by Tracy Wolff
He was pretty sure she’d noticed the camera crew, but he wouldn’t bet money on it. When she was in the work zone, the world around her faded away. He both admired and hated that about her. Admired it because her brain was sexy. Hated it because Work Zone meant no time for spontaneous sex during the day. He liked spontaneous sex—and planned sex and good sex and bad sex. Pretty much any time he got to see Lyric naked or partially naked was a good time for him.
Was sex considered a viable form of exercise? If so, he sure as hell would give up his usual five-mile swim for a romp in the hay. He and Lyric had never done it in the barn. Knowing her, she’d insist on being on top. He glanced at her and licked his lips. He was totally on board with that plan.
“Heath, we don’t have time for multiple takes. We need to get this right the first time so we can get it into editing and on the 6:00 p.m. show.” Shelby Margate messaged him suggestively with her eyes. A couple of years ago, they’d had some fun on a beach in Playa Del Carmen. Clearly, she was ready to have a little more fun. “Drinks after?”
“Sorry, I’m busy.” His eyes went to Lyric. Maybe he could talk her into wearing some really short denim shorts, a tank top tied just under her boobs, and some cowboy boots for their wrestling match in the barn. Or maybe just the cowboy boots? She already had on a pale-pink Stella McCartney bra and panty set he’d put on her this morning. Yes, he could stand to see her in just that and the cowboy boots.
He crossed his legs and tried to get his mind to stop picturing Lyric in her underwear. Or naked. Or, better yet, naked with only a pair of cowboy boots on. Yep, that was the winning ticket—and what he was going to angle for once he was done with this dog and pony show.
“Heath!” Shelby yelled. “We’re about to get started.”
“What?” He shook his head and looked around. He’d forgotten there were a million people in the living room. It had always been that way with Lyric. He could lose himself in her. “Oh, right. Sorry.”
“All quiet,” someone on the other side of the camera called, and all movement and sound stopped except for a faint tapping of fingers on a keyboard.
Shelby rolled her eyes, looked over her shoulder, and yelled, “Hey, you, we’re taping. Could you please stop typing?”
Now that he noticed, Shelby seemed to be a yeller.
“Oh.” Lyric looked around like she hadn’t noticed the room full of people before. “Just give me a second to finish this e-mail.”
“Sure, we’ll just all wait until you’re done.” If Shelby could actually use sarcasm as a weapon, Lyric would be dead. But it was hard to use a weapon against a person who didn’t even acknowledge you existed. Lyric didn’t say anything else as she typed and typed and typed.
“I hope it was an important e-mail,” Shelby snarked when Lyric finally hit send. Shelby wanted her to kowtow and apologize, but since she didn’t know she’d done anything wrong, that certainly wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“It was very important and exciting. Stephen Hawking and I have been discussing Hawking radiation and the particle-antiparticle pair created spontaneously near the event horizon of a black hole.” Lyric closed her laptop with snap.
“All right, then.” All of Shelby’s self-importance deflated like a week-old balloon, and Heath couldn’t help grinning. That was his girl. She’d put Shelby in her place and hadn’t even known she was doing it. She really was one hell of a woman.
“Who’s she?” Shelby nodded toward Lyric.
They’d already been introduced, but whatever.
“Dr. Lyric Wright. She’s a SETI astrophysicist.” Heath was bursting with pride.
“Dr. Lyric Wright? Really?” It was the man behind the camera. “I just saw your podcast on quasar output and the effects on dark matter. Changed my life … seriously.”
“I’m so glad you liked it.” Lyric smiled broadly. “It’s a fascinating subject.”
Shelby gritted her teeth.
“Lately, Lyric gets recognized more than I do.” That wasn’t strictly true, but she did have quite a fan base.
“If it’s okay with everyone, can we please get back to filming?” Shelby really didn’t like not being the center of attention.
“Right,” said the man behind the camera. “Count it down.”
The same production assistant who’d groped him stepped in front of the camera and said, “We’re on in five, four, three …” She mouthed the two and one as she stepped out of the frame.
“I’m here today with former quarterback and new offensive coordinator for the Fort Worth Wranglers Heath Montgomery. Heath, I have to tell you, I did not see this coming.” Shelby eye flirted with the camera.
“Me either.” He shrugged his shoulders and threw out the self-depreciating smile that his publicist said could charm the pants off of anyone. Maybe he’d try it on Lyric later. He was always up for charming her out of her pants.
“From quarterback to coach—tell me how that happened.” Shelby crossed her legs and put on her best I’m-so-interested look.
He started at the beginning with the knee injury and ended with Dalton’s phone call, with Shelby prodding him for more details along the way.
When he was done, Shelby nodded and continued to smile. “Sounds like your life in football is just beginning.”
“It wasn’t a turn I was expecting, but I welcome the challenge.” And he did. He was excited at the idea of coaching.
“There’s just one more thing I think our viewers would like to know …” She waggled her eyebrows. “Is there anyone special in your life?”
He cocked his head to the left and gave her a coy smile. “I’m as single as I ever was. It would take a very special girl to put up with me.”
“I think there are many who would like to give it a try.” Shelby couldn’t be more suggestive if she straddled him right there on the sofa. She turned back to the camera. “From quarterback to coach … we can’t wait to see what happens.”
She smiled brightly.
Someone yelled, “Cut!”
That certainly was fast. The fastest interview he’d ever done.
Shelby stood and went to him. “So what exactly is up with you and the astrophysicist?”
“Just family friends.” He unhooked his mic and pulled off the battery pack. “Good family friends.”
It wasn’t what Shelby was looking for, and it wasn’t even what he wanted to say. He was so proud of Lyric that he wanted to tell the world she was his woman. But there was no way in hell he was going to drop that bomb in the middle of ESPN SportsCenter. If he did, every paper in the country would be vying for a picture, and there was no way he was going to let their wedding turn into a three-ring circus until the wedding night. Then, Lyric was welcome to act like the circus animal of her choice—though he was particularly fond of tigers.
No, he wasn’t giving Shelby the scoop. The world would find out about their wedding on Entertainment Tonight two days after the ceremony like God intended. Heath’s publicist had already scheduled the interview.
“I’m staying at the Holiday Inn Express, if you’d like to be friends with me later.” Shelby touched his arm.
“Sorry, but I’ve got to get back to Fort Worth.” He stepped back and shook off her arm.
“Can I see you for a moment, please?” Harmony ground out the last word.
“Dr. Wright has a twin?” The man behind the camera almost had a heart attack. Both Heath and Harmony ignored him as she hooked her arm through Heath’s and pulled him into the kitchen and then through the door to the garage.
Heath waited until they were away from prying reporters before saying, “What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem. But she does.”
For the first time, he noticed Lyric leaning against Cherry Cherry’s hood. “Why didn’t you tell them that we’re together? I was right there and you didn’t even mention me, even when she asked. Is it because you’re ashamed of me?”
She looked like he’d sucker pun
ched her in the gut. It made him sick.
“Ashamed of you? Lyric, I’m so damn proud of you I can barely stand it. I wanted to tell everybody that you were my fiancée. And that I adore you.” His hands shook with the need to touch her.
“It sure didn’t sound like that. And it didn’t look like it when you were letting that girl put her hands all over you, either.” Lyric was more than hurt, she was angry.
So she had been aware of what was going on in the room. And she’d been jealous? The thrill of pure joy shot through him. If Lyric had been distracted enough by the production assistant that she’d noticed it even when e-mailing with Stephen Hawking, she must care about him a lot. It had to be. Because usually she couldn’t be distracted from her work by a five-alarm fire followed by a nuclear bomb.
He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “Oh, darlin’, don’t be upset. I didn’t want to complain about the handsy production assistant because then I’d come out looking like the asshole. And as for not telling them about you … I just want to keep things quiet. The last thing we need is for the wedding to turn into a circus. I know you wouldn’t like that. Hell, I wouldn’t like that.”
“Wedding? What wedding?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “The engagement is fake. We are not getting married.” She said every word very succinctly.
“But we’re engaged—”
“Damn it, Heath, can you be serious for three seconds here? We are not engaged. We are not getting married. We’re barely dating—“
That was a knife to the soul.
“Barely dating?” He’d been bringing his A game, and she called it barely dating? “I’ll have you know we are definitely dating. In fact, we are in a relationship. And if you don’t like that, then that’s too damn bad.”
Her brows shot up to her hairline. “Are you telling me or asking me if we’re in a relationship?” Her voice warned him that it better be the latter.
But he could tell he was losing her, and it was pissing him off. And that was making him reckless. “I’m telling you. We’re in a relationship.” He needed to tell her the truth. “I have been in love with you for over half my life. We’re getting married.”
He let the verbal grenade he’d just launched at her sink in.
“I don’t understand.” Lyric looked like she was reviewing the last half of her life in her head.
“I am in love with you.” It was his turn to enunciate every word. “I want to marry you.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. You aren’t in love with me.” Lyric looked like the world as she knew it was crumbling around her. “Why are you doing this?”
She didn’t believe him. That was a shot directly to his soul. She didn’t believe that he loved her. He didn’t know whether to be offended that she didn’t believe him or offended that she didn’t believe in herself. Either way, he was angry. But he bit it back and gently took her hand.
He kissed her palm. “I’m in love with you.”
“To help my father get better. Isn’t that what we talked about?” She looked at him like she no longer understood English.
“You can’t really believe that’s what all this was. What about the tree house? And the way you made love to me, like you were giving me every part of you and taking every part of me in return? You had to know that was real. Didn’t you?”
His heart was bleeding for her.
“I just … I just thought we were having fun.” Stunned wasn’t the right word to discribe her … it was more like confused and angry.
She didn’t believe that he loved her. Worse, she didn’t trust him. He didn’t deserve that.
The idea infuriated him even as it broke his heart. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her how blind she was. But he was smart enough to know that wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he bit it back. And focused instead on the love that filled up every part of him.
“Maybe I haven’t been clear enough about my intentions.” Though he wasn’t sure how much clearer he could get, considering he’d bought her a ring and a wedding dress. Clearly, the sting of that long-ago night was still fresh for her. “I’m in love with you, have always been in love with you, and will always be in love with you. I planned our perfect wedding because I want you to see how much I love you. There is no part of our special day that I didn’t have a hand in planning. Marry me.” He struggled to get down on one knee, keeping his injured leg out straight. “Marry me because you love me and want to spend the rest of your life with me. Please, please, do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
His pulse hit sudden-death-overtime adrenaline levels. The life he wanted was right beside him, and he was putting it all on the line in the hopes that she felt the same way.
He was laying his heart at her feet and hoping she wanted to keep it. He knew that Lyric loved him too. She had to. They belonged together.
Because they were good together.
Because they were right for each other.
Because no one else would ever fit either of them as well as they fit each other.
For long seconds, she didn’t say anything at all. He could see the wheels turning in her head. She wouldn’t be Lyric if she didn’t have to think things over and analyze them near to death.
The more time passed, the more butterflies took up slam dancing in his gut.
The life he wanted was right in front of him. It was to be beside her, and he was putting everything on the line—his body, his heart, his very soul—in the hopes that she felt the same way.
Finally, he saw the answer in her eyes. And he knew, even before she said anything. “Please, please, Lyric. Don’t do this. Don’t walk away from what we have. Don’t—”
“I can’t.” There were tears in her eyes. “We can’t. I can’t. I—”
The tears destroyed him. “Lyric, please. I love you. I know you love me. We can make this work.”
“You don’t love me. You love an idea of me. You love the idea of you with me—Prince Charming rescuing the absentminded professor from her ivory tower. But that’s not real. This isn’t real.”
“It is real. We are real.” He struggled to get back up, ignoring the hand she offered.
“We’re not, Heath. We’ve never been real. When we were seventeen, you slept with me thinking I was my sister. And now, you’re with me because of a fake wedding.”
“That’s not why I’m with you—”
“It is. Oh, you may pretty it up however you want, but the only reason you’re here is because you got caught up in the drama and the story of it all. You got caught up in the make believe. But that’s not how the real world works.” She honestly believed that. It was written all over her face.
“It can be.”
“No.” She shook her head decisively. “It can’t be. Because in the real world, the prince ends up with the beautiful princess, not the absentminded professor. Once, I believed it could be different, and all that got me was a broken heart. I can’t believe it again. I won’t believe it.”
He’d done this to her, and now he was offering her his heart and she wouldn’t take it.
She blinked the tears away, then pulled herself up to her full height. “So, no, Heath. No, I won’t marry you.”
She turned on her heel and walked out of the garage.
His world stopped spinning as her words tattooed themselves on his soul.
She’d said no.
He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t—
“That was the saddest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” It was a female voice, and she sounded anything but sad—gleeful, more like.
Everything froze inside of him as he turned around to find Shelby and her crew—complete with cameraman—staring back at him. “Quarterback wins at football but loses at life. Now that’s the real story here. Unless … you want to reconsider my offer …”
He turned away. He’d just had his heart destroyed, and she wanted to use the footage as a bargaining chip. Like he cared. By 6:05 CST, the world would
know that he’d had his heart broken, and he didn’t give a good goddamn. She could plaster the story on every network in the country and he still wouldn’t care. He’d lost Lyric—no, he’d never really had her—and nothing else mattered.
Harmony came back in then—shit, he’d forgotten she was around; how much had she heard?—and started ushering the ESPN crew out. “Show’s over folks. Nothing more to see. Back into the house.”
“Not on your life.” Shelby smirked. “Keep the camera pointed on Heath, Josh, or start typing your resume.”
“I think you misunderstood me. I said to get back into the house. It wasn’t a request.” Harmony got in Shelby’s personal space and looked down her nose at the reporter. “Southern hospitality dictates that I offer you a cold glass of iced tea instead of punching you in your overly big, capped, white teeth. I’m willing to give you ten seconds to accept that glass of iced tea before I drop you on your skinny Yankee ass. What’s it gonna be?”
Harmony was fast becoming one of his favorite people.
Livinia stepped behind Harmony and glared at Shelby. “Get in the house or so help me God, I’ll shoot you for trespassing.” If she’d only had a shotgun to cock, the badass female image would be complete. He hadn’t known that Livinia had it in her.
The knowledge shattered what was left of him. Because if Harmony had it and Livinia had it … then Lyric had it too. Only she was too damaged, too broken, because of what he’d done to her all those years ago, to let her inner badass show.
Too scared of being hurt to take a risk on him.
* * *
Chapter 27
* * *
“If you stay in that bed any longer, your ass is going to be permanently attached to the mattress.” Harmony smacked Lyric on the butt and then yanked open the curtains in Lyric’s bedroom.
“I like this bed.” Lyric dove under the nearest pillow. “It’s comfortable and steady and it won’t ever leave me.” She sniffled a little before she could stop herself. But that was just because the sunlight was burning her eyes. Or at least, that was her story and she was sticking to it.
