Sarah Curtis - Pursuing (Alluring Book 3)

by Unknown

  Pursuing by Sarah Curtis Copyright © 2016 by Jeanine Grasso

  All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, alive or dead, and events are coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover image © iStock.com/LesByerley

  A special thanks to my Beta readers. You know who you are, and you know how important you are to me. Your input and friendship is invaluable. Thank you so much for taking the time to help me.

  Thank you, LaTracie Brown for helping me edit and making sure I didn't use too many commas.

  Thank you to all the bloggers and authors who take the time to spread the love. This indie appreciates it.

  A very special thank you to my two girls, Layla and Brynne, for holding my hand, sharing in my highs and lows, and always being there for me. Love you both.

  As always, this book is dedicated to my hubby. Without his encouragement, I would have never even tried.

  Other books in this series

  Alluring

  Engaging (Alluring 2)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  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

  Author Bio

  Other Books by Sarah Curtis

  Chapter One

  Jo was running late for work. There was nothing she hated more than rushing first thing in the morning, it always threw her whole day off. Jo usually liked to wake up slowly, sipping a cup of coffee while reading a few chapters of whatever book she may be reading, liking to start her day with peace and quiet and end her day the same because she sure as hell had no peace or quiet in between.

  Rushing around the bedroom, she cursed the fact that her phone had died sometime in the middle of the night, so her alarm didn't go off this morning, putting her in her current state of upset, then cursed her idiocy for not having a backup alarm and made a mental note to rectify that soon.

  She threw a black, V-neck, cotton top over her head and shimmied into a pair of jeans while slipping her feet into a pair of leather flats. Spending most of her day out in the field on her feet, she refused to dress up or wear heels. Her supervisor had argued with her for a year on her choice of casual wardrobe before finally giving up. Jo could be stubborn, but it was a useful quality for her job in social work.

  In the bathroom, she did a quick brush of her teeth and hair, throwing her long, brown locks into a high ponytail and with no time for make-up, dashed to the kitchen where thankfully a full coffeepot awaited her. She sent up a quick prayer to the coffee gods for automatic timers while pouring coffee into a travel mug and screwing on the lid. Throwing her phone and charger into her purse, she scooped up her keys and snatched her black blazer from the back of the kitchen chair before running out the door.

  Jo lived in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of central Las Vegas in a cute little starter home she'd saved two years for a down payment on. Her parents, while not wealthy, were well off and paid for her college education, leaving her debt-free as she forged into adulthood. And while Jo didn't make a ton of money as a social worker, she did make enough so was comfortable and not struggling to pay her bills.

  She'd lived in Las Vegas her whole life, growing up in a cozy, upper-middle class neighborhood, not too far from where she lived now, in a house her parents still lived in. She learned ballet and how to drive a car in Vegas. Had her first kiss with crappy boyfriend number one, lost her virginity to crappy boyfriend number two, and met her best friend, Debbie, in Vegas. Went to and graduated from UNLV with a bachelor's degree in social work, got her first job, and bought her own home all in Las Vegas.

  Although she'd lived in Vegas her whole life, she'd traveled to various places. Her father, a prominent and well-respected pediatrician, religiously took two weeks off from his practice every year to take his family on vacation. They visited the Grand Canyon, Pikes Peak, Carlsbad Caverns, Disneyland, and one year even Disney World and while she'd enjoyed the many places they'd visited, Vegas felt like home.

  Jo made it to the office in good time. Traffic had been surprisingly light for a Monday morning, making the drive refreshingly stress-free. The Department of Family Services (DFS) building was about five minutes from the Las Vegas strip, and it always amazed her how drastic a neighborhood could change in such a short distance. Like the scene from The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy opens the door in her black-and-white world and steps into a realm full of color, that's the Las Vegas strip compared to the rest of Las Vegas.

  She parked her car and no longer late due to her frantic getting ready skills and the ease of the morning commute, calmly made her way into the nondescript city building and took the elevator up to the Child Protective Services (CPS) department. Her department took up half the floor and was one large, open room with the exception of a small supervisor's office in the back. The décor was "city" dreary with a splash of "government" chic. Desks–made of some type of metal that would survive world destruction–were strategically placed, creating rows and aisles. No one had any privacy and thank goodness everyone mostly got along.

  After fishing out her cell and charger, she threw her purse under her desk and plugged in her phone. While booting up her computer, her desk phone rang. "Joanna Welsh." She listened for a moment. "Yes, sir, I'll be right in."

  Brandy Davis, her desk neighbor, gave her questioning raised eyebrows as Jo stood from her desk. She returned her silent question with an answering shrug and made her way to her supervisor's office, tapping lightly on the door and entering at the responding shout.

  "Take a seat, Joanna," Mr. Reynolds requested, with a wave of his arm at the empty chair at the front of his desk.

  He eyed her from behind his desk, and Jo squirmed in her seat. Ed Reynolds was a large guy, tall, and a little overweight but carried it well. He had a dark complexion, brown eyes, and short, light-brown hair with a receding hairline that had grown more prominent since she started with CPS six years ago when entering the mentoring program while still working on her degree.

  She had never asked but figured he was in his late thirties to early forties with a quick temper but even quicker smile. He loved and doted on his family but did not hesitate to complain about the latest fad diet his wife had him on or the sad state of his son's grades.

  He was a fair yet grueling taskmaster that expected perfection but understood failure, hence the little wiggle in her seat, unsure how this conversation would go. Never one for convention, she could be called to task on any number of things.

  He sat back, elbows resting on the chair arms, fingers steepled under his chin. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke, "I got a call this morning from Rick Jensen."

  Jo frowned, racking her brain, but the name wasn't familiar. "I'm sorry, sir, am I supposed to know who that is?"

  Reynolds smiled for the firs
t time since her entrance. "Not even a little bit," he laughed.

  Jo found herself smiling with her boss even though she hadn't the first clue what the joke was.

  "Rick Jensen is in charge of the summer youth football boot camp program for the Nevada Pursuers. Since you're probably not familiar with the program, let me lay it out for you. Every summer local kids can sign up, for a fee, to spend six weeks training with some of the top players from the Pursuers but this year, they also want to incorporate underprivileged kids into the program. Their sponsors have put together a campaign and are funding twenty kids, ten boys for football camp and ten girls for cheer camp, and they need us," he said, holding his arms out wide, "to supply those kids."

  He leaned forward in his chair, arms now stretched across his desk. "That's where you come in. I'm putting you in charge of this little shindig. The camp starts next Tuesday, so you have just over a week to get everything in order. I want you to supply them with kids from your houses, kids you think will benefit most from a program like this. The only criteria is they must be between the ages of twelve and fifteen. You're also now the official spokesperson for CPS. I gave Rick your numbers, and he knows to contact you directly with any future questions, comments, or concerns." Reynolds leaned back in his chair once more and gave her a thin smile. "Any questions?"

  About a hundred questions drifted through her head, but she knew her boss well enough to know he really didn't want to answer any of them. He'd washed his hands of this project and thrown it in her lap, and now he expected her to take care of it.

  Jo stood, shaking her head. "I can't think of any right now."

  "Good." He tore a piece of paper from the pad on his desk. "Here's Jensen's contact info. If you have any further questions, you can contact him directly."

  Translated, leave me the hell alone and go away. Jo took the paper. "Thank you, sir, I'll get right on it." He had already turned away, fiddling with something on his computer. Jo read the paper she held as she made her way back to her desk, having a feeling this Rick person was about to become her new best friend.

  She knew why Mr. Reynolds had chosen her for this project, the four group homes she was responsible for were in the East district, a section of Vegas with a growing gang population. Mr. Reynolds was not stupid. He had been with CPS for a very long time and was Head Supervisor for a reason. He probably figured supplying the kids with a different outlet would steer them away from the recent gang activity.

  Once at her desk, she pulled up a roster of her children on her computer. Her four homes housed ten kids each, and the first thing she did was check the names of the children that fit within the age parameters. That left her with twenty-three kids, thirteen boys and ten girls, three boys over. No way she'd leave only three kids out. Time to meet her new BFF, she picked up her phone and dialed Rick.

  Jo stood in the aisle at the head of the bus and raised her hands to get everyone's attention. Slowly the chatter quieted, and all eyes came to her. "I know I don't have to tell you this," her eyes locked with a few of her more troublesome kids before she continued, "but I want you on your best behavior today. I'm not exactly sure what you'll be doing, but I'm sure whatever it is, it will be fun."

  She heard movement from the bus stairwell and turned her head. A tall, good-looking man, wearing what appeared to be a very expensive suit came into view. He gave her a smile, holding out his hand. "You must be Joanna Welch. Rick Jensen, nice to finally meet you."

  She took his hand while giving him a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, too."

  They had chatted on the phone a few times over the last week, ironing things out. As always, when speaking exclusively with someone over the phone, her imagination never envisioned them properly. She'd pictured Rick as a short, somewhat older, balding man, but in reality, he was the total opposite. His brown hair, while somewhat long, was cut and styled to frame his face, accentuating his strong features and dark-brown eyes. He had a set of perfectly straight, white teeth that gleamed brightly as he smiled at her.

  He was very good looking and with the way he held her hand, lightly caressing her knuckles with his thumb, she knew if she gave him any indication of interest, he wouldn't hesitate to ask her out. But unfortunately, the suave, polished type just wasn't her thing. No, she liked the strong, rugged, muscular type who didn't put on airs and who wasn't afraid to sweat. But again, unfortunately for her, that type seemed to have a lot of complications that went along with them, at least that had been her experience.

  Rick gave her hand an extra squeeze before releasing it, giving her a long lingering stare before turning his attention to the kids. "Hi, everyone, my name is Rick. Today will be an orientation day. We'll be signing you up, suiting you up, and assigning you lockers. You'll also meet this season's coaches. We've got a great lineup this year, including star quarterback, Mason Connor."

  The kids exploded in cheers and shouts, and Jo honestly couldn't tell who were more excited by the news, the boys or the girls. Jo didn't know much about football, and the little she did know came from what she'd learned over the past week from articles on the Internet. The name Mason Connor came up quite a bit during her search, so she assumed he was pretty popular in the football world and from the shouts of excitement he'd just received, it seemed she figured right.

  "So is everyone ready to get started?" Rick yelled, over the clamor. If possible, the noise level grew.

  Everyone got off the bus, and Rick informed her that camp would be held on the Pursuer's practice field. As they walked, she took in the sights around her. Having never been to the stadium, she hadn't realized it was such a vast facility, stretching as far as her eyes could see.

  The day, already hot at nine in the morning, promised to be a scorcher. Heat radiated from the concrete, and the sun blazed overhead, burning Jo's scalp, making her wish she'd thought to wear a hat. She had been smart enough to dress in shorts and a T-shirt, taking the time to slather all exposed body parts with sunscreen. She glanced over at Rick, who'd been at her side since they'd left the bus. Not a bead of sweat dotted his brow. How was he not hot in that suit?

  "I wasn't expecting someone from CPS to be so young and pretty."

  Uh oh, Jo hoped he was just trying to make polite conversation and that wasn't some form of a pick-up line. He seemed nice enough the few times she'd talked to him, but no way was she mixing business with pleasure. Not wanting to encourage his advances but knowing she had to play nice with the program's big-wig, she mumbled a simple, "Thank you."

  They walked a few more steps. "It must be very rewarding working with children."

  She did find it very rewarding working with children. It was also wonderful, amazing, inspiring, and often times surprising. But it could also be troubling, painful, daunting, and sometimes unbelievably heartbreaking. Of course, she wouldn't share all that with Rick. She liked to keep her personal life personal. This was business. So instead, she said, "Yes, it is."

  He didn't seem to notice her answers were short and concise, or if he did, he didn't seem to care. He just continued on. "So, Joanna, or may I call you, Jo?" He didn't give her a chance to respond, continuing as if her agreeing to his use of her shortened name was a given. "I think we've gotten to know each other quite well over the last week. How about I take you out for drinks tonight after work?"

  So now that she wasn't a random voice over a phone line, but a "young and pretty" (his words) face, he wanted to ask her out? Pass. Although she was trying to date more out of the norm of her usual type, and he definitely fit that bill, she thought it best if they kept things professional.

  "Thank you for the offer, but I'm dating someone." That was a lie, but she had found, in the past, it was easier to get out of a date if she used that excuse. Men didn't like to hear the word no but seemed to back off if they thought you were already taken. It worked like a charm every time.

  "Oh, I see. Well, please keep my number and give me a call if your situation changes." He gave her a sidelong look. "You'r
e a very attractive woman, and I'm very attracted to you."

  Thankfully, they reached their destination before she had to respond and before he had a chance to say anything further. Her kids had stopped, clustered at the gate. Jo looked across a sea of green to the other side of the field where tables were set up, and a long line of young teens stood, waiting. She knew it would be difficult for her kids to intermingle with the children that could afford a program like this and hoped not too many conflicts formed.

  With that in mind, Jo pushed her way to the gate and once through, turned to her kids. Her eyes scanned their faces, noting some looked excited, scared, happy, or belligerent, but beneath the surface, they all looked a little apprehensive. She gave them a big smile for encouragement. "When you step through this gate, I want you to remember you're here to have fun and make some new friends. This isn't a competition, it's an opportunity for you to learn something new, taught by professionals. I also want you to remember, this is voluntary so if for any reason you stop having fun, I want you to come to me, so we can work something out. There's no pressure here. Any questions?" When no one said anything, she said, "Good, then let's go."

  Chapter Two

  Mase slipped a whistle over his head then slammed the door on his locker, leaning his forehead against it, trying to gain some energy. He'd had a very late night, or should he say early morning, getting about only two hours of sleep, and he knew after standing a few hours in the heat, he would be done for. The sad part was, he'd done it to himself.

  "Hey, man." Mase picked up his head and turned to see Tom Minks, one of his linebackers, walk into the locker room. He was a big guy, tall, muscular, with the darkest skin Mase had ever seen and short, cropped, black hair. Tom had helped him coach the summer boot camp for the last three years. He was a good friend and a valuable asset to their team. He stopped a few feet from Mase and placed his hands on his hips. His usually serious face was currently sporting a very big grin. "You look like hell. Late night?"