by Liz Matis
“See you at the next home game.” Angel grabbed another bag of nuts on her way up the steps, apparently unconcerned that her husband had missed the pass.
Hayden nodded, biting her tongue.
Hannah followed Angel without a word but then stopped and came back down the steps. “Hayden, a word of advice.”
“Sure.”
“Be Liam’s fiancée, not the owner’s daughter. The players get enough grief from the coaches, press, and fans. Your man needs your support.”
“I’ll break out the pom-poms.” She’d shore up his ego for the sake of next week’s game. She knew her football in and out, but she’d play dumb and pretend he didn’t stink up the field today.
Just a week ago, she would have called him a loser to his face, but now she couldn’t bring herself to do it. His poor play was partly her fault with all the media coverage leading up to the game. She’d done enough damage.
Besides, she had a part to play—the adoring fiancée. Unfortunately, it was becoming less and less of an act.
Chapter 9
While Liam iced his shoulder in the trainer’s’ room, the team’s cute but no nonsense public relations liaison kept the press at bay. Thank God for Meredith. Faced with a no-win scenario, Liam didn’t know which he dreaded more—tackling the sportswriters or Hayden, who he was sure would have a lot to say.
He didn’t need his quarterback rating to tell him he’d played his worst game as a Cougar—or ever—which was saying something since he’d had a lot of bad games as a professional quarterback.
Today, he couldn’t hit the side of the barn he’d use for practice as a kid. The quarterback was the pulse of the offense and Liam’s arm was dead on arrival. Throw after throw, too hard, too soft, too high, or too low. Getting sacked three times didn’t help. His body ached from the blunt force of the tackles, but nothing hurt as much as losing did.
Near the end of the final quarter, he’d thought the only good thing the analysts might say is that he hadn’t thrown an interception. But he jinxed himself even thinking about that. Not that he really believed in jinxes, but the thought rattled his confidence on the last play.
He didn’t need to see a replay on ESPN to remember how he lost the first game of the season.
Billy Burner ran from the sideline to join them in the huddle. “Hail Mary the ball to me.”
Liam hated the stupid nickname for the desperation move. Long pass in the final seconds, low probability of success. The quarterback who originated the term said he’d need to pray for divine intervention to connect with his receiver.
“Right up your alley, McQueen,” Hondo had said.
Liam ignored him. Just as he didn’t believe in the jinx, he didn’t believe that God cared much about football. Miracles belonged to the dying, not to millionaire athletes. Liam never prayed to the win the game. He did pray for God to make him strong and to keep him and the players free from injury. “Just keep Dunham off my ass.”
The huddle broke and Liam read the defense as he approached the line of scrimmage. Blitz. They were going to come at him. He could call an audible to try and throw them off, but the defense, heck, the whole stadium knew there was only one play, one chance for the home team to tie the game. Instead he decided to throw them off with a quick count. He backed off into the shotgun position. “Code red one,” he’d yelled.
Hondo knew the signal and hiked the ball back to Liam’s waiting hands. His linemen bought him precious seconds as Burner flew down the field, but Liam needed more time as Dunham broke through and chased him out of the pocket. Hurdling over a fallen lineman, he released the ball just before hitting the line of scrimmage. The crowd roared as the ball sailed in a movie-perfect arc toward the end zone. Then the ball brushed off Burner’s fingertips and landed into the Warriors cornerback’s hands. Intercepted. Game over.
The collective moan from the fans had deafened Liam’s ears more than any cheer ever had. He’d disappointed them. Again. Then the booing rained down from the stands. Some players claimed they couldn’t hear the fans, but Liam felt each hiss and catcall like a tackle from a charging lineman.
“Sorry man,” Burner said as they’d headed to the locker room.
“No, bro, it’s all on me.” Liam thumped his chest.
“Win as a team, lose as a team.”
Liam nodded, even though he knew it wasn’t true. Nothing would be said, but his teammates would silently place the blame on him, especially the defense who held the Warriors to only a single touchdown, keeping the Cougars in the game. Then there was Romer, the rookie quarterback, who would no doubt be gloating about his rival’s bad start.
So Liam iced his shoulder and took his time in the shower, going over in his head how he should handle the inevitable onslaught of questions.
Dressed in a suit and feeling calmer, he left the safe haven of the trainers’ room ready to face off against the press. Because of the media frenzy created by his engagement, the Cougars had set up a formal press conference rather than the usual post-game stand-up.
At least a table would separate him and the press. Win or lose, he hated how the reporters got up in his face with their microphones and cameras after every game. He almost felt sorry for Hayden, dealing with media on a daily basis. Though she seemed to enjoy all the attention.
As he took his seat, flashes from the cameras nearly blinded him, and the shouts of a dozen reporters muddled his ability to distinguish a specific question. But he caught old man Middleton’s glare from the back of the room. Good, maybe the owner was having second thoughts about the wisdom of using Liam as his sacrificial lamb.
Determined to set the tone of the conference, Liam leaned forward to the microphone to issue a statement. “I’m not talking about my personal life.”
Meredith, handling her public relations’ role, pointed to a reporter from the New Jersey Examiner. “Tony, get us started.”
“How much do you think your poor play has to do with your engagement to the daughter of the Cougars owner?” the reporter asked.
Liam rubbed the tension knotting the back of his neck. Maybe he could deflect further inquiry with a self-effacing remark. “I don’t need anyone’s help to suck. Just look at last year’s Championship.” That earned him a few chuckles.
Tony followed up. “So you don’t think Hayden Middleton is a distraction?”
“During a game?” Liam decided to stick with humor. “Only if she came running naked out on the field. Did I miss that too?”
A burst of laughter sounded off the walls. Liam joined in. “Now can we talk about football? Otherwise, I’m out of here.”
“Given your past, isn’t your engagement to a known party girl a danger to your sobriety?” The question came from the back on the room.
Scowling, Liam identified a reporter named Ender—a hack who had gleefully written about his hard fall from grace. Who let that prick in? The team had revoked Ender’s press privileges long before Liam even joined the team, after the so-called sports reporter targeted running back Miller and his supermodel wife with a torrid personal piece that had nothing to do with the game.
Liam didn’t intend for the same thing to happen to Hayden and him.
“I said no questions about my personal life.” Before anger got the best of him, he rose from his seat and headed deliberately away from the microphone.
The room exploded into chaos as he walked out the door. Meredith followed him, her heels clacking like cleats on the concrete floor, pleading with him to return to the lion’s den. He kept walking. Middleton created the media circus; he could darn well rein in the rabid reporters too. The sour smell of stale beer hit his senses as he passed by the entrance to the stands. Even though beer wasn’t his poison on choice, a craving for a drink hit him hard.
And it had nothing to with Hayden. She might he harder on him than the press, but at least she’d stick to football, even if it was to tell him he sucked. That he could handle. Questions about his past left him ashamed. He’d yet to
forgive himself and he never would.
He didn’t expect to find his fake fiancée waiting with the wives and girlfriends. But there she was, chatting with Hannah and Angel. Now there was a turn of events. He’d heard first hand how nasty Hayden was to Angel last season. Now they were laughing like best friends.
She waved good-bye and walked over to him with a big fake smile plastered across her face. It was a little creepy. Running back and confronting the reporters seemed less scary.
“Hey, babe,” she said as she reached up to pat his shoulder.
“Hey,” he said cautiously. Where was the Hayden that called him a loser? Who hated the use of the word, hey?”
They walked to his car. “It’s only the first game of the season. You’ll get em’ next week.”
“Yeah.” Confused, he slowed up as they reached his Hummer.
Hayden kept on to the passenger side. She turned to face him. “And don’t get me started on the refs.”
“Okay, did you have a brain hemorrhage or something?”
“What? I’m just trying to be a good fiancée.”
Suddenly, he didn’t care about the false engagement. He pulled her into his arms. “Then, I guess I should be a good fiancé and kiss you.”
“Like, finally.”
A soft mewing sound escaped her mouth as he brushed his lips against hers. The desire to bring out the feline side of her hit him hard. He wanted her to hiss with frustration when he wouldn’t let her come, to roar with release when he did, and then purr her satisfaction as she fell asleep in his arms.
But they had an audience. He let her go and nodded to the crowded parking garage. “We have spectators.”
She looked oddly disappointed. “Good to know.”
Liam signed a couple of autographs for the kids who asked, glad that anyone valued his signature after that loss. A couple of Hayden’s fans asked for her autograph too. Once the crowd dispersed, they both slid into his car.
“Look Hayden, I appreciate the show of support, especially in public.” He started the car and then turned her, outstretching his right arm across the passenger seat. “But you don’t have to boost my ego. When we’re alone, you can be real with me.”
“Oh, thank God.” She put his face between her hands. “Because you totally sucked today.” Then she planted a big kiss on his lips.
The kiss she unleashed softened the blow of her words, but hardened him elsewhere.
He groaned when she climbed over the console to straddle his thighs. Grabbing her luscious ass, he pressed her against his erection. She rocked her body along his throbbing cock and tightened her thighs against his. The bruising pain from the beating of the defense and the humiliation of defeat faded until only one part of him ached.
She broke away, panting for breath. Her blue eyes darkened with lust. “You can score with me, Liam,” she whispered.
“You’re killing me, Hayden.”
“That’s the idea,” she said her voice soft. He held her gaze as she sucked his thumb into her mouth.
To hell with his stupid vow of celibacy. She wanted him and he wanted her. Now. Losing himself in her would numb today’s loss. She’d ease his need for a drink…
Then she pushed back her hair and he caught sight of her engagement ring—the diamond that had sanctified a marriage that had lasted sixty years.
No woman had ever tempted him like Hayden. Not even close. But he didn’t want to lose himself or be numb with her. Just the opposite. He wanted to feel with his whole heart, to find himself again.
Hayden was a beautiful distraction and a naughty influence. She wasn’t a danger to his sobriety, but to his sanity. Heaven help him.
But it wasn’t his heavenly Father who saved him from breaking his vow in the front seat of his Hummer.
Hayden’s father pounded his fist on the hood. Hayden giggled as she untangled herself. Plopping back into the passenger seat, she zipped down the window. “Hello, Daddy.”
The fury on her father’s face made Liam thankful that she was protected in his tank.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Middleton said more to Hayden than to Liam.
“I was just consoling my fiancé about the game,” she said with a toss of her head.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Hayden.”
Liam knew exactly how he felt.
Chapter 10
Hayden surveyed her father’s decorated yacht with dread. She loved a good party, but the impromptu engagement soiree her father was throwing tonight—a black and white cocktail party—had her stomach in knots. The fake engagement was becoming all too real. So were her feelings for Liam.
Liam squeezed her hand. “Nervous?”
“No,” she lied. She looked up at him, her heart stopping at the sparkle in his chocolate diamond eyes. They said diamonds are a girl’s best friend, and Hayden did love her diamonds. That must explain why his eyes fascinated her so much. But she didn’t want Liam as a best friend—she wanted the sexy quarterback as her lover.
And in truth, much more. Somehow, she had let him sneak into her heart.
She smoothed her white satin dress and linked her arm through his. Dressed in a black suit and white silk tie, he looked like a powerful CEO. His slicked-back hair, while chic, made her fingers itch to mess it up. The breeze off the river carried his scent of earth and mint. She wet her lips, longing for the cool freshness of his kisses.
“Hayden, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to throw you in the river to cool off.”
Damn. He’d caught her staring.
“You wouldn’t dare.” She laughed it off and defaulted to her best defense. “Why don’t we ditch this party and have one of our own?”
“I’m waiting for my wedding night.” He swatted her on the butt. “Now, behave.”
“You are obsessed with my ass.”
“Hayden, the whole world is obsessed with your ass,” he said as if stating a fact.
She laughed with her whole heart, something only Liam seemed to be able to accomplish. He was right, though. There were probably more photos out there of her going than coming.
They stepped onto the gangway. Why did she feel like she was walking the gangplank instead? It wasn’t even going to be a large gathering. She’d texted a group of her old friends, but none had responded. Not surprising. Even before good-guy Liam entered her life, she hadn’t heard much from them. Once she traded in her cocktail dresses for pajamas because of her probation, her friends had disappeared one by one. They’d either deserted her for the wilder parties around New York, or they just didn’t care.
At the time she couldn’t blame them. If she were honest, she would have done the same thing to them. Who wanted to go to the movies or to dinner, when they could choose a party or club instead?
Except Hayden had discovered she kind of liked quieter evenings. That night at Martini Madness had been her brother Harry’s idea. Then, he hadn’t shown up, and Franko had pulled a gun. Now, Liam was stuck with her until her probation ended.
“What’s your judge doing here?” he asked as they entered the yacht’s interior space. “Did your father invite him?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t.” Hayden eyed the imposing figure of Judge Mayer chatting with her father in the corner. Why were they both smiling at her? She almost snagged a glass of champagne from a passing tray to calm her nerves.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother. Why wasn’t she in Paris? Please, please, don’t be drunk. Hayden watched her approach, noting the purple cocktail dress. Maybe the shade was dark enough to look black? The dress hung loose on her mother’s slender figure. A figure that Hayden had not inherited.
“Darling, how could you? A mother should be the first to know. First, your engagement and now a surprise wedding!”
Wedding? Surprise? WTF. “It’s an engagement party, Mother. A black and white themed event.”
“Shhh. White’s just for you.” Her mom put a finger to her mouth then gav
e a drunken wink. “Introduce me to this hunk of man.”
“This is Liam McQueen.”
“An honor to meet you.” Liam inclined his head.
“Please call me Charlize.” Her mother waved an empty glass of champagne in the air. “Finally someone is making an honest woman of my daughter. Twenty-eight, and this is her first engagement. I was beginning to despair.”
Hayden rolled her eyes. “Mother—”
“Your daughter is nothing but honest.” Liam took Hayden’s hand and kissed it.
Her mother’s drunken laughter sounded louder in the near-empty space. Hayden wondered what Liam thought about her mother’s behavior. With all the alcohol around, would he be tempted to join in?
“Hayden, we need to speak in my office.” Her father interrupted. “McQueen, you too. Charlize, greet the guests as they arrive. They should be here soon. In the meantime, try to stay upright for once.”
Hayden winced at her father’s cruel words, but followed him to his study. Harry and her father’s attorney stood off to the side. What the hell was going on?
“I’ll get right to it.” Her father moved behind his desk. “Your engagement is becoming a media nightmare. It’s time to end it.”
“We told you the press wouldn’t leave us alone,” Hayden chimed in. She should have cheered with relief. This was what she’d been working toward. But oddly, she didn’t feel much like celebrating. Suddenly, being right felt very wrong.
But then her father patted Liam on the back. “Once you’re married, I’m confident the speculation will quiet down. Judge Mayer will be performing the ceremony tonight.”
Relief turned to panic, but before Hayden could utter a protest, Liam said. “He threatened her with jail again, didn’t he?”
“I told you he loved his football. Last week’s loss, the lawsuit the photographer filed against you for pushing him down outside Hayden’s apartment, and now,” Her father held up a tabloid, “Ender’s article claiming your engagement is fake.”
“I don’t care what the judge says. I’m not getting married,” yelled Hayden.
