by L. M. Carr
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
The Play Maker
Copyright © 2019 by L.M. Carr.
Cover design and formatting by Juliana Cabrera, Jersey Girl Design
Edited by Kim Young, Kim’s Editing Services
First Edition: November 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to retailer and purchase.
Chapter One
Two weeks earlier…
My tongue swipes across my bottom lip, eyes fluttering to a close when I feel his breath at my ear. A whispered reminder of our late-night rendezvous causes my skin to prickle and body to shiver. Dragging his fingertips up along my arm, the man standing behind me pulls me flush against his body, then curls his slender fingers around my waist. Spurred on by his erotic and filthy words, my mind conjures up the images of our tangled bodies pleasuring each other, taking and giving without reserve.
“Last night…,” his warm voice starts, then fades.
With pursed lips, I open my eyes and turn to face him, exhaling sharply, an expression of admonition on my face. “Justin…,” I sigh with exasperation and shake my head before I eventually crack a smile. I cup his chin, resting my index finger on his lips. “We’re at work,” I growl unconvincingly as humor threatens to betray my furrowed brows.
A sly grin emerges on his face, causing his lips to part and my finger to slip into the warm cavern of his mouth. The swirl of his tongue around the fleshy pad sends a direct signal to my core.
I narrow my eyes. “Keep it up and see what happens,” I threaten halfheartedly.
His teeth clamp down, applying the slightest pressure before he reaches for my wrist, tugs gently and releases my finger.
“I can’t wait to see what happens,” he rasps and pulls me close, securing me against him with a hand to the small of my back. Heat from his solid chest radiates through his thin dress shirt and warms my taut nipples.
His lips graze my earlobe. “I love you,” he mumbles, repeating the same words he professed last night.
“I know you do,” I sigh, my chin on his shoulder as my fingers slide through the waves of dark hair that kiss his collar.
Over Justin’s shoulder, my eyes zoom in on the gigantic television hanging on the wall and widen, my entire body freezing, blood pounding through my ears.
“Get a room!” Curt, a senior reporter, cackles.
I immediately step back and distance myself, hoping our colleague didn’t hear Justin’s uttered words.
Curt points to the TV. “They really hired him?” He hums in disbelief. “I thought for sure they were going to go with Rosenberg.”
Justin’s attention follows mine to the image displayed.
A surge of adrenaline erupts in the pit of my belly and quickly flows like lava to my lungs and heart. Astounded by my reaction to what my eyes see, I cover my gasp with a cough and reach for my chest, my heart pounding feverishly. I force a swallow past the lump in my throat.
There’s no way, I think to myself. This has to be some mistake. He can’t come back here.
With my body temperature heating, a sheen of sweat forms at my hairline. I quickly move my hand from my chest to the damp skin inches above my arched eyebrows, subtly wiping away the moisture.
Unable to pull my eyes away from the screen, I stare at the face of the man who dominates my dreams and haunts my nightmares. His beautiful blue eyes still possess the ability to hold me captive, even though the memory of the last words he spoke to me still hurt.
I watch and listen to the breaking news about his return. Utter disbelief causes my head to shake, and anxiety forces the tip of my tongue to slip to the corner of my mouth.
The bold headline is simple.
J. MACK IS BACK!
The show’s four senior analysts, three retired players and a coach, each provide their own personal commentary as they discuss the details of Julian MacIntyre’s new contract, debating the team’s decision to hire him. The screen flashes with footage of a high school senior wearing a red ball cap as he reveals his decision to attend the University of Alabama. I bite back the rising emotion when I recognize so many familiar faces. The video flashes forward to him slipping on a Texans jersey over his fitted suit at the NFL draft.
Then it shows the hit that ended his career.
Everything is silenced by the violent pounding of my heart as the memories of that day rush forward. I clench my teeth and suppress the vomit threatening to rise.
“Babe, you okay?”
I turn to meet concerned, brown eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I clear my throat. “I think something I ate at lunch didn’t settle right. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Commanding my feet to move, I hurry to the ladies’ room and lock myself in a stall. Groaning loudly, I shove the heel of my palms into my eyes, determined to ward off the welling moisture. Between a shattered heart and destroyed dreams, too many tears have already fallen because of that man.
Finally in control of my life, I refuse to let his presence derail me. My path is clear, and I will not allow myself another second to stumble through the rough terrain of memory lane and care that J. Mac is back.
§
Present Day
Stepping out of the elevator and rounding the corner, I take long strides to maintain pace as I walk between my two colleagues and laugh at their comments. We follow the path of colored tile that leads us back to our own offices.
With genuine excitement, I interject, “I’ve seen a lot this season, but I still can’t believe Perkins made that catch! A one-handed grab in double coverage!”
“Imagine what he’s going to do after a few years in the league. Those rookies coming up are something else,” Justin comments, raising his arm over my head to offer Curtis a celebratory high five.
“There’s always room for one more!” I shoot my hand up quickly and sigh quietly, inwardly annoyed at the obvious exclusion. Just another reminder that I am a woman working in a male-dominated field. I know what people say about women like me. Some
attribute my success to my family name, while others think I’ve slept my way to the top.
“Room for one more?” Justin asks, looking down at me with a roguish smirk and a raised brow. “Is that so?”
I read the expression on his face, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.
He continues. “The more the merrier?”
I press my lips together, lock my gaze with his and murmur, “I already told you. That is never happening.”
I feel the vibration of the cell phone in my back pocket. While listening to Curtis and Justin talk about going out for drinks tomorrow night, I grab it and glance down at the number. Anger stirs in me, my grip tightening around the small device. After staring at the name for a moment, I sigh and decline the call, sending it to voicemail—again.
“You planning on joining us?” Justin asks, unable to hide the determination and hopefulness in his voice. “You know, ‘the more the merrier’ and all.”
When Curtis stops for a moment and steps away to speak to another colleague, I grab Justin’s arm and pull him away.
“You can beg all you want, but I already told you a threesome is never going to happen,” I growl, annoyed that he is broaching this subject once again. “Say it with me… Mo…nog…a…my,” I drag out each syllable with a raised brow.
I can’t deny that while I have found myself in bed with Justin quite frequently over the last two weeks, I battle the growing feelings on a daily basis. My philosophy has been the same for several years now. The L-word isn’t going to change that anytime soon. Men can have my body, but nobody gets my heart. It is off limits, sidelined, benched for eternity. Besides the fact he has intimated at scenarios I’m not entirely comfortable with, I think it’s safe to assume his sexual tastes vary from mine. While I don’t want his heart, I do want his body in my bed…alone.
“A threesome?!” Justin raises his hands defensively, then looks around and lowers his voice. “Whoa, baby. I was just talking about dinner and drinks tomorrow night.”
My face flushes, mortified, when I realize my imagination has run off again. “Oh.”
Justin leans down to whisper into my ear. “I know it’s taken me a while to figure it out, but you are the only woman I want in my bed…and out of it.”
I smile tightly so as not to offend him. I like Justin, I really do, but I don’t see myself with him forever. His face isn’t the one I see when I close my eyes at night, and his body isn’t the one I imagine thrusting into me.
Curtis jogs over. “So, you coming out with, AJ? Bring Naomi. She’s fun.”
“Can’t,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I’m heading out to San Diego.” Quickly, I attempt to divert the conversation. “Isn’t your wife due any day now?”
Curtis laughs. “Six weeks, which you would’ve known if you had gone to the baby shower.”
Justin throws his arm over my shoulders and chuckles. “Come on now. Everyone knows AJ doesn’t do babies.”
I frown up at him, which he responds to by planting a kiss on my head. I don’t appreciate being patronized. It’s not that I don’t like babies. I just prefer them when they can talk and tell you what’s wrong instead of screaming until they pass out.
“Wait. You’re not interviewing for ESPN out there, are you?” Curtis asks, a panic-stricken expression on his face. He flicks his thumb toward Justin. “You can’t leave me with this guy!”
Justin responds dryly. “Thanks a lot, dude.”
Shifting my attention to the soon-to-be father who has more hair on his chin than on his head, I grin and shake my head. “Sorry to disappoint, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m sticking around here until something bigger and better comes along.”
Janine, one of the college interns who likes to flirt with every guy who walks by, walks up and asks Curtis if she can speak with him.
I press my lips together and raise my eyebrows.
“You guys go on. I’ll catch up later.” Seeing my expression, he furrows his brows. “What?” he demands in a hushed whisper, raising his hands as if defending himself before he’s accused of anything.
“Be careful. I heard she eats men like you for breakfast,” I warn quietly, suppressing my chuckles.
“Don’t forget,” Justin adds. “We’ve got a two o’clock meeting with the producer.”
Curtis offers a quick thumbs up and nods as he and Janine walk away.
Justin and I continue to stride down the corridor.
“You didn’t mention you were going away this weekend.”
I glance over and try to ignore the accusatory gaze in his eyes.
“So, what’s in San Diego? Or should I ask who’s in San Diego?” His accusatory tone causes me to look at him, his insecurities written on his face. Justin is well aware that long-term relationships are somewhat of an anomaly for me. “I know it was late and I had a little too much to drink last night, but I’m almost positive you moaned the name Jay in your sleep.”
I feel slightly dizzy, my face flushing as my heart rate increases. Looking away, I inhale quietly, buying myself several seconds to formulate a response. I know I should be truthful about the dreams I’ve been experiencing, but I don’t want to face additional interrogation.
I shrug. “I must’ve been dreaming.”
“Who’s Jay?”
I laugh nervously and raise my eyebrows. “Um… Last time I checked, your name begins with the letter J.”
He mumbles something under his breath, then looks at me, hurt in his expression. “Are you going to see Rence while you’re out there?”
“Yes. He’s the reason I’m going,” I snap, suggesting he should already know this. “I haven’t seen him in a few weeks and it’s his birthday. Are you sure I didn’t tell you about this?”
“I’m sure.” Justin licks his lips and blinks slowly. “I would’ve gone with you...if you’d asked.”
A nonchalant shrug suggests I’m fine traveling alone. “Thanks, but I could use a little time to think some things over.”
Justin nods, his lips pursing in deep consideration. His chest rises when he inhales sharply. “You’re not sure about us moving in together, are you?”
I lift a shoulder again. “It just seems kind of fast.”
“AJ, we’ve been together for almost six months.”
“Has it been that long?” I blink several times, truly surprised. Between our busy schedules and traveling, there are sometimes long stretches when we don’t see each other. Sometimes it feels as if we are having a long-distance relationship.
I stop walking and turn to look at him. I caress his arm subtly, wanting to ease the tension on his face. “Justin…”
“When will you be back?” he asks quietly.
“Late Sunday night. We’re just going to hang out and catch a game.”
We walk on in silence, the growing tension palpable.
“I hate this, AJ.” His low, desolate voice matches the look on his face.
Tilting my head, I try to understand what he’s talking about. “What do you mean? You hate what?”
“I hate that some bastard broke your heart and I’m paying the price.”
As if he plunged a knife into my heart, I gasp, wishing I could contest his words, but I can’t. Unfortunately, they’re true.
“Call me as soon as you get in,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I’ll be back before you leave.” Justin smiles sadly and leans in for a kiss.
I don’t know what possesses me to turn my face and offer my cheek instead. I feel absolutely horrible when he tenses, his lips lingering on my skin before pulling away. We speak at the same time, his amorous words of affection silenced by my no-nonsense attitude.
“I love you.”
“I’ll text you later.”
Stepping away, he nods with a tight smile. Perhaps he knew this day was coming. Perhaps my conscience knew what was inevitable. I’m AJ Hamilton. I don’t do love…not anymore. God knows I don’t want to hurt Justin, but I can’t give him what he lo
ngs for. My cold heart constricts at the thought of his usual, easy-going smile or the huge, roguish grin he boasts after sex.
I cross my arms, watching as he pivots and heads down the adjacent hall toward his own office. Before disappearing around the corner, he glances back, my guilt returning. Justin is a great man. Just not the one for me.
“Have a good weekend,” I call out, then turn…nearly bumping into Curtis. The concerned expression on his face causes my forehead to crease.
“What?” I demand as we walk in the opposite direction.
“Can I give you a word of advice?”
I cock my eyebrow and purse my lips, knowing the unsolicited comments will reach my ears regardless. “Like the advice I gave you about staying away from Janine?”
“She’s harmless,” he scoffs. “Unlike you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You might want to stop leading him on. Everyone knows he’s crazy about you, but you’re just going to break his heart.”
I quickly spin on my heels and face Curtis, who stands only a few inches above me. “I’m not leading him on! I truly care about him.”
He scowls in disbelief.
I place my hands on my hips. “Tell me something. Why is it that men around here can engage in playful, flirtatious banter, but the minute I do it, I’m leading somebody on? That’s bullshit.”
Grasping my elbow, Curtis leads me into the breakroom. I immediately shrug out of his hold.
“AJ, you’re a sports reporter like the rest of us, but you sure as hell don’t look like us.”
A small smile threatens to emerge at his words, but I suppress it, choosing to refute his claim. “Look, I’m so sick of hearing how I’m a woman in a man’s world. I know this industry is dominated by men, but that shouldn’t exclude me from doing my job. I know this game just as well, if not better, than anyone with a penis.”
My choice of words elicits an exasperated sigh as his face hardens and he rolls his eyes. “Oh, that wasn’t overly dramatic now, was it? No one is questioning your credentials or that fact that you’re one of the best. I’m talking about Justin. The guy’s in love with you.”
