by Desiree Holt
So maybe she owed him a little something, She could be upset that he hadn’t shared his situation with her, or even told her his last name, but she was as guilty of a lack of communication as he was. They’d both been hiding something. She was hurt that he hadn’t given her a chance to explain herself, to convince him she hadn’t tracked him down to this beach resort. Still, after the hell he’d been through, she guessed she couldn’t blame him.
She might not be able to do anything about her own situation at the moment. Still no offers of employment. But she could use her contacts and her skills to help Ryan. Maybe that would convince him he could trust her. Because she’d discovered once she got past the hurt and the anger that she had feelings for him that went way beyond a momentary hookup. Way beyond.
And then what, Kaitlyn?
Yeah, then what? She lived in New York while he lived in Tampa. They each had separate lives. Even if there was more than this interlude between them, where could they go from here?
Well, if it got to that she’d figure it out. First things first.
Searching her email address book she pulled up an addy she hadn’t used in a long time. Probably too long. Bob Del Rio owed her a big favor. When he was launching his sports blog from the second bedroom of his tiny apartment, he’d needed a big publicity boost. He had contacted Kaitlyn and asked for help. His idea fascinated her and she’d put enough of a spin on the story that Ed okayed a sidebar profile. That article launched his blog. Now Before the Game was the hottest blog about both professional and collegiate athletics. Even agents and managers and owners read it to get the latest news. Now it was payback time and Kaitlyn wasn’t afraid to shame him into paying her back.
She was aware how busy he usually was so she was surprised when she got an answer to her email in less than five minutes.
Call me. Here’s my phone #.
Fifteen minutes, later she hung up with a smile on her face. It seemed Bob had his own suspicions about the situation. He’d seen too many like it that created a media stir because one of the people involved made a gigantic fuss and wasn’t averse to telling lies.
“I tried to dig into this,” he told Kaitlyn, “but his agent and the team refused any and all calls remotely related to media. I guess I can’t blame them but I had other stories to deal with. Anyway, you should know I have contacts and can find out things the cops don’t know about.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“I’ll get in touch with them right away and get the ball rolling.”
“Thanks for your help,” she told him.
“I should be thanking you.” He laughed. “This will double the subscribers to Before the Game to even more astronomical figures.”
“I thought everyone in the world already read your blog,” she teased.
“There may be one or two this will drag in.” He laughed again.
“I guess this means you still owe me a favor.”.
“I’ll have to think about that one.” She could almost see him grinning. “Meanwhile, let me get off the phone so I can get busy on this.”
“When will I hear from you?” she asked.
“Give me until tomorrow. I should have what I need by then. I’ll touch base with you before I actually publish this, okay?”
“More than. Thanks so much for this.”
“I should be thanking you. Talk at you later.”
Getting through the hours of waiting rubbed her nerves raw. Her ankle still gave her enough of a twinge that taking a run on the beach was out of the question. A walk didn’t appeal to her. She finally decided to take a long, hot shower, scrubbing the fatigue and grime from her body and her hair. Too bad the cottage didn’t have a bathtub because she could sure use a long hot soak.
Clean at last and dressed in fresh shorts and a T-shirt, she curled up on the couch with a cold drink and started skimming the sports channels on television, looking for any breaking news on the situation. It was old news so no one was paying it a lot of attention at the moment except to wonder where things stood and what the resolution was going to be. People were still digging around but it seemed no one was talking. Reporters were still hot to talk to Ryan, but he continued to be unavailable.
Kaitlyn knew training camp started in a couple of weeks. She was sure everyone wanted this cleared up by then. If Bob Del Rio’s contacts came through right away, he’d be able to get the blog out there just in time.
Kaitlyn had no idea how she got through the rest of that day. Two beers helped her sleep that night, although fitfully, but by the next morning she was itchy in her own skin. A dozen times she started to call Bob and ask him what was happening but she didn’t want to disturb him if he was in the middle of something. She also didn’t want to irritate him and have him drop the whole thing. This was too important. If a story exonerating Ryan appeared in Before the Whistle, it would clear his name faster than cleaner on a whiteboard.
Forcing herself to focus on something else, she went back to doing a search for jobs, this time looking at smaller cities and publications that might not care about what Renzulli said or did or thought. Her grumbling stomach was sending her signals that lunch night be in order when her cell rang. She snatched it up in mid ringtone.
“Bob?”
“Were you expecting someone else?” he joked. “My heart would be broken.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks for the joke. What did you find out?”
“I had my moles start with this woman’s closest friends.” He whistled. “What an eye opener that has been.”
“So give already.”
She took notes as he spoke so she wouldn’t forget anything although she hardly thought that would be possible. This story would be burned on her brain forever. She was tempted to drive up to Tampa and confront the psychotic woman herself except that would do no good. But this, Before the Whistle, would. Definitely.
“Thank you so much,” she told him. “You have more than repaid the favor.”
There was a moment of silence then he said, “Kaitlyn, I know what Renzulli did to you. It’s the talk of the industry.”
“Thanks for letting me know my fame is spread even wider than I thought,” she snarked.
“That’s not my point. You have no idea how many people know you or of you and have a lot of admiration for you. They want to see you back in the business.”
“Good. Maybe one of them will give me a job.”
Another pause. Then, “I actually have one to propose to you?”
Her eyebrows rose. “No kidding? Doing what?”
“Your profile that time helped make me into an entity that people kill to advertise on. I hardly have to look for money. It just comes rolling in.”
“How nice for you.” She took a sip of her cold coffee, making a face.”
“It could be for you, too. I’ve had a lot of people from all aspects of the industry suggest I should have a companion blog writing the news from a female point of view. I’m a lot of things but definitely not a female.”
“That’s for sure.” She laughed.
“I, uh, was wondering if you’d like to be that person.”
For a moment Kaitlyn was so shocked she was speechless, an unusual occurrence for her.
“Bob, I don’t know nearly as much about athletics as you do. I wasn’t even aware of Ryan’s situation although apparently most of the country was.”
“You can learn the mechanics,” he persisted. “I can teach you and a lot of people will answer questions. In fact, it might be even better if you wrote as someone who doesn’t have a lot of knowledge. Most people don’t.”
He went on to outline the job, when he wanted to launch the new blog and then named a salary figure that took her breath away.
“You meant it when you said the money was rolling in.”
“You could live anywhere you want and Renzulli can’t touch you. He has no influence here.” He chuckled. “In fact, people might read it for no other reason than to find out about the woman he bla
ckballed. You could even write a column about that.”
By the time the call ended, Kaitlyn felt the first real excitement since her firing and Ryan walking out after his hurtful accusations. Bob had promised to bump what he had scheduled and run the column on Ryan the next day She wanted to keep herself occupied until then. Energized, she put on a pot of fresh coffee and began to make notes on what she’d use as topics.
*****
“What’s the big emergency?” Ryan asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Looking at the clock he saw it was barely eight in the morning. He needed the caffeine after yet another restless night. “It must be a real disaster to bring you here this early in the morning.”
“Not an emergency.” Walt grinned at him. “And, for a change, not a disaster. Where’s your laptop.”
“My laptop?” Ryan blinked. “Why do I need a computer at the crack of dawn.”
“Just get the damn thing.” Walt was so hyped he sounded like he’d already had more than his share of caffeine.
“It’s right there on the kitchen counter. Help yourself.”
In seconds, Walt had it open and booted up. His fingers danced on the keys as he brought up the browser and typed something into the search bar. When Ryan saw Before the Game come up on the screen, his stomach knotted. Oh, hell. Was his disaster now starring in the most read sports blog on the Internet? But, when he saw the headline, he nearly dropped his coffee.
Ryan McCabe a Victim of Vicious Lies
His eyes bugged out, “What the hell?”
“Read it, for god’s sake,” Walt told him. “I already called the Rough Riders and spoke to the key people there. Then the cops, who have dropped the charges against you like a hot potato. But Marlo Andrade better hightail it out of town and change her name.”
Ryan read it as he sipped his coffee, refilling his cup and then reading it again.
“How did he find these people who knew all about her,” he asked, “when the police couldn’t. Nor your investigator.”
“Nobody wants to be painted black in this blog. Everyone who knows a tiny thing about sports reads this as the gospel. He told Marlo’s friends he’d name them all if they didn’t come clean.”
Ryan shook his head in bewilderment. “But the cops talked to them. So did other reporters.”
“But none of them are Bob Del Rio,” the agent pointed out. “He’s a god on the Internet and anyone who can even spell the word athletics reads his blog. He’s got more muscle than anyone else.”
“Damn.” Ryan raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t understand. Did you get him to write this?”
“Not me.” Walt shook his head. “I tried to talk to him early on but he said agents always put a spin on things.”
“Then who?”
Walt held out his cell phone with a number already punched and ready to go. “He said you’re the only one he’d tell.”
Fifteen minutes, later Ryan disconnected the call and stood there in a daze.
“I feel like the world’s biggest ass.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t help. I believed what I wanted, rushed to judgment, and made a mess. I’m surprised she even wanted to help you.”
“I should have believed in her to begin with.” He fisted his hands. “If I hadn’t let you mess with my head and drag me out of there so fast, I might have thought about it and realized the woman I’d gotten to know would never do something like this.”
“She sure looked guilty to me,” Walt protested. “All the signs were there.”
“But think about it. All the signs were there for people to believe Psycho Marlo’s story but I wasn’t guilty of a damn thing.”
Walt rubbed his jaw. “Point taken. But remember, I was only trying to protect you in this.”
“I have to see her right away. Is she still at the cottage?”
Walt nodded. “I had someone check. Come on. I’ll get you past the media animals clustered outside. As soon as that blog appeared, they invaded in force again.”
It took some doing, but fifteen minutes later Ryan was out of there and on the interstate. He hadn’t even bothered to shower and change clothes, driven by the urgency to make things right. In the past forty-eight hours, he’d done little sleeping and a lot of thinking. He considered himself a pretty fair judge of character and despite what Walt had told him, Kaitlyn did not seem like the kind of person who would do what his agent accused her off. In the intimacy of their situation, he gotten to know who and what she was as a person. Something was wrong, he’d told Walt, and now he was proven right.
He didn’t know if she’d even talk to him now but he’d pound on her door until she let him in. Then he’d beg for her forgiveness, groveling as much as he had to. Then he’d try to convince her to move to Tampa so they could be a real couple in the real world. Because he realized on the drive down the interstate that without even knowing her last name or anything about her, he’d fallen hard for Kaitlyn Reese. He wanted her with him, in his city. In his home. In his life.
By the time he drove down Pelican Lane, he had worked himself up into a nervous frenzy. When he parked in her driveway, he had to take a minute to settle himself so he didn’t fall completely apart. When he thought he had himself under control enough, he bounded up her stairs three at a time and knocked on her door. When she didn’t answer at once, he knocked harder.
“Kaitlyn,” he shouted. “Open the door. I have to talk to you.” Still nothing. “Kaitlyn, I know you probably hate me but if you don’t open this door, I’m going to break it down.”
He heard the click of the deadbolt and the door swung open, although not too wide. Kaitlyn looked at him her face devoid of all expression but hurt and anger smoldered in his eyes.
“If you came to bitch me out again, you could have saved yourself the drive.”
Ryan nudged her inside and slammed the door behind him. He took a moment to gather himself again then, startling her, he pulled her against him and kissed her, a kiss so hot it singed his lips. She struggled in his grasp but he held tight until a lack of oxygen made him break the kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he said before she could get a word out. “I am so fucking sorry. I’ll get down on my knees and grovel if that will help.”
“You talked to Bob.”
He nodded. “I did, but I’d already begun to doubt what my agent said. The woman I’d gotten to know here wasn’t the kind who would do something that sneaky. I was already thinking about driving back here.”
“You were?” Hope flared in her eyes and he took that as an encouraging sign.
“I know about how your job situation got screwed. Walt Alston is willing to do whatever he can to get it straightened out for you. But—“ He stopped.
She cocked her head. “But what?”
“I know I don’t have any right to even bring this up, but I’d love it if you could find a way to relocate to Tampa.”
When a smile teased at her lips, a faint seed of hope began to grow inside him.
“I guess I could find a place to live there as well as anywhere.”
“I have a place in mind, but what about getting a job?”
When she told him about Bob’s offer to her, the seed of hope blossomed into a real flower. He pulled her into a hug that stole the breath from both of them.
“And where is this place you have in mind for me?”
He blew out a breath and cupped her chin in the palm of his hand. “I know I have a lot to make up to you for, and I’m going to spend every minute doing nothing but that.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “The place I have in mind is my house. What would you say to that?”
Finally, she smiled. “I’d say if there’s a lot of groveling in mind, we could give it a try.”
“Whatever you want. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was too stupid to see it, but I’ll never make that mistake again.”
He pulled her into a hot kiss, his tongue stroking the velvet of her lips until she opened for him then thru
sting hungrily inside. She met him with her own tongue, stroke for stroke, until they finally broke the kiss to breathe.
“Just so you know,” he told her, “I’m never letting you go.”
“Just so you know,” she replied, “I’m holding you to that.”
Ryan laughed, a sound that freed his soul, swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He wanted to start right now showing her how much she meant to him, in every way.
Sideline Infraction
By
Desiree Holt
Huge thank you to Carly Phillips for including me in her Dare to Love Kindle World. This turned out to be one of the most favorite stories I wrote and hit #1 in Kindle Worlds.
If you enjoyed this book and characters, please check out Carly’s DARE TO. LOVE series books here - http://www.carlyphillips.com/category/series/dare-to-love/
Chapter One
Sarah York fiddled with the stem of her wine glass and stared at the debris on the table. The party was definitely over. They’d all gone off and left her, all six of them. She guessed that was what happened when you were the odd man out. How stupid of her not to realize the others would couple up. Had she missed out because she held herself aloof from that? She’d come here to meet up with her study group from law school to celebrate their long journey to becoming a lawyer. New Orleans, the official party town, seemed a great place to celebrate. They’d partied hard for three days. Then tonight the atmosphere had shifted. How had she missed the signals that her six study buddies were building up to a night of unrestrained sex? And that she was odd man out. What the hell? The very last thing she’d expected was for the others to couple up and leave her sitting here alone.
