The man’s heated presence unnerved her, sending her pulse skyrocketing, but so far, he was more interested in Gollie than he was of her.
“Sounds like someone has her panties in a wad.” He grinned and took the book from her hand, flipping it open. “I’m a responsible man, and I like to get things taken care of. Not let them go.”
“Yeah, sure. My mom’s taking her this afternoon.”
“Send me the bill.”
“I will.”
Awkwardness clutched her as she swayed on her feet and grabbed another book from the cart. Once this dog business was over, she’d never see him again. Which might not be a bad thing since he’d distracted her from digging deeper into King David’s relationship with the Philistine king, one that could have been viewed as traitorous, since the king was a sworn enemy of King Saul and coveted Israeli territory.
“Care to have lunch with me?” Cade’s voice broke her from staring at his feet, encased in nicely oiled Timberland boots.
“Sure, why not?”
Oops, that had been too eager. Half the town of Itasca would be eager to have lunch with the traveling stud, er, Irish setter owner. And goodness, when he turned on the charm, and his eyes twinkled under his furrowed brow, she and every woman in the library could just as well melt into a puddle of slush.
“I don’t make you nervous, do I?” Cade grinned, lumbering above her.
“No, not at all.” She heard herself squeak. Warm shivers tingled over her shoulders at how close he was between the narrow shelves. Face it, she was helpless in the face of his rugged magnetism, and she yearned to sample those strong lips and run her hands over his hardened physique. And if he humped anywhere as eagerly as his dog … Oh my, the global warming caused by one Cade, dog breeder, would thaw the icicles off all the windows in Itasca.
“Great.” His lips curled up. “Let’s grab a bucket of red hot wings and go back to my place.”
“Your place? I only have an hour for lunch, I mean, it’s probably too far, and I usually eat at one of the cafeterias here.”
“I live in College Town, above the Big Red Bar.”
“How fitting. You have a big red dog, you live above the big red bar …”
She stopped herself, biting down on her tongue, wondering what else was big and red about him.
As if he could read her dirty mind, he smirked. “Big and red go together, don’t you think? I’ll meet you out front around noon.”
* * *
Cade hadn’t come to Itasca to score women. As a professional football player, he was well aware what targets they presented. Everyone assumed athletes were vulgar and violent, sex studs who couldn’t keep their jockstraps on, and for the most part they were right, except for the violent part—that was reserved for the playing field.
Most groupies would bare any part of their body to get a selfie taken with him to post on social media, and woe to the man who accidentally impregnated a stripper. These days, paternity could be easily proved, and a man hit up for twenty years of child support without access or shared custody.
So why was he flirting and inviting Andie, librarian and King David groupie, back to his place?
It wasn’t like she came on to him, or even had a clue who he was. She assumed he was a dog breeder. He’d given everyone in town his alias, Cade Preston, close to his real name Cade Prescott, but no one had even narrowed an eye and looked at him sidewise. His head was shaved bald, and he’d never worn a beard before, so he was safe there. Best of all, the brown colored contacts took the blue right out of his eyes. Nope, no one would recognize him, especially in a town where cross-country skiing took precedence over team sports.
He hurried home and took Red out for his walk before returning to the library. His pulse thudded under the thick jacket, and he rubbed his gloved hands on his pants. What would it feel like if she stood him up?
He checked his watch and walked around in circles under a snow laden pine tree. Was this how regular guys felt? The ones who were nerds or not athletic? The ones who stuttered or had fallen arches?
Maybe being bald knocked him down a few pegs. Maybe she wasn’t attracted to his scruffy beard. He glanced at his watch. Her lunch break was dwindling. Maybe she was caught up with work, and she couldn’t contact him because she didn’t own a cell phone. Blowing out a steamy breath, he stomped on the doormat to remove the snow from his boots and opened the door to the library.
It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Appearing casual, he checked out the circulation desk. No Andie. He strolled through the main floor. Not a flash of red hair beckoned to him. He couldn’t very well check out all the floors and basements of this extensive university library.
Cade admitted defeat. He walked out of the library with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He’d always been the big man on campus, since he threw his first football in the Pee Wee league. Girls chased him left and right, and he never lacked for a selection. Heck, grad night for him was one big screwfest, followed by party hardy college ball, and then the pros where money flushed in a river of women.
Except now, he was the Super Bowl Dog of the Year. And women talked. They’d probably laughed about him behind his back and bragged about bagging the guy who couldn’t aim.
Splat. Something icy and cold knocked the side of his face, and a gleeful woman’s laugh jumpstarted his heart. Andie!
Before he could bend down and pack a snowball to retaliate, she slammed another one at close range, then shook the pine bough and dumped a load over his shoulders.
“I’m gonna get you,” he roared as he tackled her and they rolled on the snowbank, busily stuffing snow into each other’s coats.
Chapter Six
Andie squealed and bit her lip as an icy blob of snow trailed down her belly. She and Cade were outside the student store in between classes, so few people trampled by. Besides, the ones who did were tethered to their electronic devices, so they could safely horseplay without interference.
She smashed a hurriedly packed snowball onto Cade’s neck, pushing it down his collar.
“You vixen, you.” He growled, his voice husky with promise. “You know we’re going to have to get out of these wet clothes or we’ll catch our death of cold.”
“Stop, stop, my underwear’s wet,” Andie said, breathlessly. Could she be any more forward and suggestive? She couldn’t imagine any of King David’s lovers uttering such a seductive come on.
“I’m sure it is. Do you have an extra change of clothes handy?” He leaned over her, his eyes intent on her lips.
Andie’s heartbeat skittered and she wet her lips, feeling her face flush. Was he about to kiss her? Should she let him?
Cade chuckled while he pulled her up from the snowdrift. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a bevy of students with their camera phones trained on them.
An Asian man waved at her. “Can we take a picture with you?”
“Sure,” Andie said at the same time Cade turned away.
“I’ll take the picture,” he said to the man and motioned to his women friends.
They giggled and squealed, motioning to Cade. “We want a picture with real Americans.”
“Let me go first,” the man said, putting his arm around Andie. “Can you take off your scarf so we can see your red hair?”
Uh, seriously? They were posing with her because she was a redhead? Oh, right. Red is an extremely lucky color in China.
“You get in the picture too.” One of the women grabbed Cade. “I have a selfie stick.”
“A selfie stick?” Andie’s jaw dropped. What the heck was that?
Quick as a whip, the Asian woman pulled out a telescoping rod and snapped her cell phone to the clip.
“Uh, I hate to be rude,” Cade said, stepping back. “But I have to go.”
Before Andie could say a peep, he turned and wound his way down the slope behind the cafeteria building.
“Say cheese. Look this way.” The woman put her arm around Andie
from the other side and jutted the stick with the phone in front of their faces.
The group was lively and jovial, and after several combinations of cheese, including goat cheese, blue cheese, and their favorite, American cheese, the students were finally satisfied, each scrolling through their phones.
“Do you have an email where we can send you a copy?” the male student asked.
A snowflake had landed on his eyebrow and he was kind of cute, so Andie gave him her library email. She never understood why anyone would want to carry a device around and read email all day long.
“Bye, thank you,” the students called out as they headed for their classes.
Andie shivered as a snappy wind reminded her that her clothes were wet. Where had Cade gone? He’d seemed leery of having his picture taken. Perhaps he was an escaped convict or a fugitive. No matter how charming and polite he seemed, she should do a bit of background research.
Her stomach growling, she trudged into the library and bought a plastic wrapped sandwich from the vending machine.
She ate it at her workstation, logging in and searching for “Cade Preston.”
The problem with common American names was too many hits. It was the same for her. Having a common name meant anonymity online. Scrolling through images, arrest records, obituaries, and blogs, she found nothing and gave up.
Fortunately, neither the FBI database nor any other law enforcement organization listed Cade’s name. However, he was also not listed as providing stud services for Irish setters by any of the breeder’s clubs.
Interesting and strange.
Cade Preston, who are you? And why did you run?
* * *
Cade hated the fact that he’d given Andie a false name. Hated it, except it was necessary. He spied her sitting in front of one of the library computers, no doubt searching the internet. That had been too close. If those students had gotten a picture of him onto the internet, his cover would be blown.
He wasn’t ready to return to Los Angeles and face the paparazzi and be groped by hordes of women. Itasca was a small, remote hamlet, and it suited him just fine.
Next time he played with Andie, he’d take her somewhere more remote where he wouldn’t run into cock blockers with selfie sticks.
With nothing to do, he wandered among the shelves, picking up magazines and newspapers. A sports magazine caught his eye.
Dang. He was on the cover with a shot of his face right at the moment his pass was intercepted. The headline was “Not O-Cade.”
Rage ripped through his veins, and he tore the magazine cover. He found the article and couldn’t help but skim it before ripping the pages and crumpling up the lies being bandied around about him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A stern voice froze him. It was Andie’s boss, the portly woman who’d earlier shown him the map. “How dare you deface library property?”
She wasn’t looking that friendly once she figured out he wasn’t interested in her brand of customer service. Earlier on, while she was flirting with him, something had gleamed in her eye that suggested she was onto him. She’d seem too eager to have him apply for a library card on an application that included background checks and a thumbprint—all of which he’d declined to do.
One would think the materials in this library belonged in the Smithsonian with the way she went on and on about security.
It would be better to appease her. He flashed a contrite grin. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll pay for it.”
“No, I’m calling campus security.”
“Please, please, I can explain.” Cade backed himself to a more hidden location between the shelves. “It’s a stupid football article.”
“Give it over.” The woman stuck out her pudgy hand. “Right now.”
Like a chastened schoolboy, Cade handed her the remainders of the magazine. She pressed the pages and smoothed out the cover. Her mouth dropped, and she stared at him, narrowing her eyes.
The picture of him had blue eyes, and right now, he was wearing brown contact lenses. Cade opened his eyes wider as she compared him to his picture.
“That’s my brother,” he said lamely, hoping to deflect her suspicions.
Finally, she said, “Pay for the magazine and I won’t call security. This is obviously one of those scandal sheets. I have a brother who’s always in the gossip rags and I understand how you feel. They exaggerate for entertainment without any consideration to how his family or loved ones feel.”
“Yes, that’s correct. I apologize though and it was wrong of me to do what I did.”
“Apology accepted,” she said. “Give me your name and address and I’ll send a bill. But a word of advice to your brother, ‘Don’t read your own press. You’re never as brilliant as they say you are, and you’re never as horrible as they report you to be. The truth is found somewhere in between, and it shouldn’t matter if you know who you are.’”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Cade scribbled his pseudonym and the address he was staying at. “I appreciate your understanding.”
The woman winked and brushed her fingers on his arm. “Anytime you want to take a tour of the library, you let me know. I get off at five.”
“Sure, thanks,” Cade mumbled as the woman departed with the carcass of the destroyed sports magazine.
When he turned around, Andie stood there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“Who are you? And what are you hiding?” she hissed. “Why are you always at the library? Are you stalking me?”
Cade removed his watch cap and ran his fingers over his smooth scalp. So, this was how life was for ordinary men without bulging wallets and professional sports contracts.
“No, miss. I came to pick you up for dinner since our lunch plans got intercepted by those snap happy students.”
Her lips curled into a crooked smirk. “I will be a star in China with my beautiful red hair. And like Margo, my boss, I also get off at five.”
And at six, and at seven, and at eight. Hope sprung in his pants as he leaned in and brushed his lips on her cheeks. “Look forward to a platter of very red and very hot wings.”
Chapter Seven
Beer and hot wings in a apartment over a bar. How convenient. Since it was Friday night, noise vibrated through the walls and the floor shook below them. Even though Andie had gotten off work at five, Cade had to walk his dog before they could have dinner. Her Gollie was spending the night at the vet getting her “problem” taken care of, which meant she was free as a bird.
Her stomach fluttered as she settled onto a giant beanbag chair in the tiny apartment. Face it, she knew what it meant to be eating in at a guy’s apartment instead of down in the bar or at a swanky restaurant, although from the furnishings of Cade’s apartment, she doubted he could have afforded more than wings and Budweiser.
“Have a beer,” Cade said, handing her an open bottle, cool and wet. “You are legal, aren’t you?”
Duh, he should have asked before inviting her here. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked. “Depends on what we’re in for.”
“No, seriously, age. I need to know.” He held onto his dog’s collar as the Irish setter strained to sniff her, his tail thumping her leg.
“Twenty-four, do you need to card me?” She took a swig of the beer.
“I’ll take your word. Let me get Red his food and we’ll leave him in the kitchen.”
He unlatched the child safety door that separated the kitchen entrance from the rest of the small apartment. The dog licked his fingers and wagged happily toward his food bowl.
Andie sucked on the rim of the beer bottle as she ogled Cade’s beautifully tight ass and broad back. What would she bet that she could bounce a quarter off how hard he was?
Given the weight bench that took up the rest of the living room and stacks of weights he piled next to it, the guy had to be a workout freak or a bodybuilder.
Interestingly, he didn’t have a TV, but he did have a wireless router and a la
ptop, a compact stereo, and books sitting on planks of plywood mounted on cinder block bricks. His sofa, if you could call it that, was a simple plush pad on top of another row of cinder blocks with pillows arranged for the back against the wall.
Cade latched the child safety door and placed a tray of vegetables with dip and hot wings onto his simple cable spool table.
“Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Wales.”
“Why so formal, Mr. Preston?” Andie tipped the beer bottle his direction. Was he nervous about the apparent seduction, or maybe he’d only asked her here to be a friend and lend a ear.
“I find you very interesting, that’s all.”
Yeah, more like interested in getting into her already damp panties.
She took a carrot stick and swirled it in the ranch dressing before sliding it into her mouth.
His honey colored eyes darkened, and the muscles around his jaw tightened as he leaned toward her and picked up a hot wing. “I didn’t know what spicy level you liked, so I made it a ten.”
“Way to go, champ.”
“That wouldn’t be me.”
“Why not? Is there something you’re running from?” She crunched on the carrot stick nice and slow, heartened that he licked his lips and swallowed hard.
“What makes you think I’m running?” His voice was not quite smooth.
She shrugged and let her eyes rove his furnishings. “I bet these came with the apartment. Why would a guy who owns a champion stud be masquerading as a poor graduate student?”
“Who says I’m masquerading?” The ease of his grin diminished as he dipped the wing into the dressing.
“I don’t know, you tell me. Are you a wanted man? An outlaw?” Her heartbeat quickened. What if he wasn’t who he said he was? Her internet search had turned up empty, and he was definitely not listed in the student directory.
“An outlaw and wanted. It all depends on the perspective, doesn’t it?” He sucked the meat off the chicken wing with one slurp and grinned.
Intercepted by Love: Part One: A Football Romance (Playing the Field Book 1) Page 3
