by Elise Faber
Charlie rolled her eyes, but she blushed all the same.
“Ooh, and you like him, too. You done got twitterpated,” he teased.
She could hardly deny that. “Maybe, but I’m still mad at him.”
Darius pursed his lips and shrugged. “I could help you with that, honey lamb. We could have some fun with him.
Charlie arched a brow. “Oh?”
Biting down on his smile, Darius nodded. “Hand me your phone, sugar.”
The number of text messages had climbed to ten, and she watched Darius’s eyes flare as he skimmed through them. “Oh, good Lord… poor creature…”
She watched him tap her contacts and shimmy a little with excitement before he pressed the phone to his ear.
“Charlie.” Even from a few feet away, she could hear the tension in Hutch’s voice.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Barlow. This is Darius DeMarco, Ms. Woodruff’s personal assistant for the day.” Darius’s voice lilted in a sugary tone. “How are you today, sir?”
“Um… fine… Is Charlie there?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Barlow. Ms. Woodruff is not available at present. She’s a very busy woman, but she can fit you into her schedule this evening,” Darius purred.
Charlie bit down on her smile.
“Of course, you’ll have to join her while she’s on the clock. If you’re free, there will be a ticket to the Giants’ game waiting for you at Will Call. You’ll be able to find Ms. Woodruff in Section 112. Can I let her know you’ll be there?”
“Y-yes. Tell her I’ll be there.”
Darius made eyes at Charlie at the urgency in Hutch’s voice. But she didn’t need the translation; she’d heard it all on her own. Charlie started to feel a little bad about Darius’s game, and she reached for the phone, but he shot up a hand and shook his head.
“Very good, sir—”
“And Darius? Tell her I’m sorry.”
Charlie lunged for the phone again, but Darius, who was a good six inches taller, just blocked her attempt and gave her his back.
“Give me that,” she hissed.
“Good day, Mr. Barlow,” Darius sang before disconnecting the call. He spun around with a chastising expression. “Do not mess with a master, honey lamb. That cutie pie needs to dangle just a little longer.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Uhn-uhn-uhn. You need to get yourself home and put on something other than Miss Office Pencil Skirt.” Darius crossed his arms and pressed a knuckle to his chin, scrutinizing her. “It’ll be cool tonight, so I’m thinking leggings, tunic, and an accent scarf. The Giants’ colors are black, orange, and cream. Can you work with that?”
Charlie cataloged her wardrobe. “I think I can work with that.”
“Good,” Darius said, shooing her away. “Now go home. Take a shower, and make yourself look effortlessly gorgeous. My work here is done.”
He left without a backward glance. Charlie thought about picking up the phone to call Hutch and smooth things over herself, but another couple of hours would probably do them both good. She closed her computer, packed up her briefcase, and headed home.
“… AND NOW TO perform ‘The Star-Spangled Banner,’ singer and songwriter from Oakland, Carly Bond…”
Charlie stood for the national anthem, but her eyes searched the crowd. Hutch still had not arrived. Despite the chill in the evening air, her palms had started to sweat. Why wasn’t he here yet?
She tried not to, but Charlie checked her phone a third time since finding her seat. No texts. Not missed calls. She had not heard from Hutch since Darius called him hours before.
Don’t panic, she told herself. He’ll be here.
She felt strange sitting by herself in an arena of forty thousand people. Everyone around her seemed to be having such a good time. The crowd cheered as the soulful singer belted out “and the home of the brave!” and Charlie made herself clap.
Had he changed his mind? Was he worried that being with her would always involve this much drama? Did he—
“Hey, beautiful.”
She turned. “Hutch.” His name left her on a sigh of relief.
“Sorry, baby. The Will Call line stretched all the way to Palo Alto. I’ve been here for forty-five minutes. I tried to text, but they all kept failing.”
Wearing a black Henley, faded jeans, and a rueful smile, Hutch edged into the aisle and stopped at the empty seat next to hers. Throughout AT&T Park, applause surged again as the announcer ordered the Giants and the Padres to play ball, but Hutch and Charlie stood silent and motionless, eyes on each other.
“There’s something you should know about me,” Hutch said, pitching his voice low so only she could hear him.
“What’s that?”
“I’m impulsive.”
Charlie pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t smile. “I think I’m learning that.”
“And I usually let organs like my gut or my heart call the shots for me.”
Taming her mouth grew more difficult. “Yeah, I think I knew that the day we met.”
This time, his smile was the one breaking free.
Hello, dimples.
Hutch shrugged. “They usually don’t fail me. My gut or my heart. On the field, I can trust them nine times out of ten. They tell me when to turn, leap, snag, and then run like hell for the end zone,” he said, stepping closer to her. “They told me to chase you. To come back to you. To send you flowers. To leave you notes. To pull you onto the dance floor. To follow you into the bathroom…”
He reached down and claimed her hand. He wore his hair loose. Did he know how sensual it looked? How it begged her to run her fingers through it?
“They told me to pull over on our way home and make sure you knew there were no expectations. To cook you an omelet. To carry you to my bedroom. Nine out of ten times my heart and my gut were dead on.”
With his other hand, he brushed his knuckles down her cheek.
“But I screwed up today.”
Charlie took a deep breath and let it out. “I just wish you would have said something first.”
He shook his head, grinning. “I figured you would’ve tried to stop me.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Ya think?”
Hutch’s easy laughter rained down over her, warming her from top to toe. So he’d screwed up. So what? If he followed his instincts and got it right ninety percent of the time, she could live with that. Quite happily.
“I just want us to have every chance to work. I don’t know how long you’d have been able to handle hiding, and, baby…” he said, grabbing her by the hips and tugging her into him, “…I don’t want to hide you.”
His lips came down on hers, and the heat they brought had her opening for him a second later.
“Down in front!” “Get a room!” People behind them jeered.
Charlie jerked away, collapsed into her seat, tugging Hutch with her as she covered face in her hands. Hutch just laughed and wrapped a consoling arm around her.
“See what fun it is not hiding?” he whispered in her ear.
In spite of herself, Charlie giggled.
Hutch kept his arm behind her, and he settled his other hand on her knee, tracing it with his signature circles.
Charlie’s breath hitched, and she wondered if she could go nine innings with such torture. Bringing her head back to the game, she realized her client was on the mound, so she forced herself to pay attention despite the delicious touch.
“Hey, babe, you know what I just realized?” Hutch asked.
Her pitcher wound up and released the ball, and the umpire called a strike.
Yes!
“What’s that, baby?” She looked over at Hutch and found his eyes on hers, gleaming.
“This is our first real date.”
Laughter choked out of her at the ridiculous truth. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Hutch gave her a squeeze. “More importantly, you asked me out on a date,” he teased. The umpire called a second strike.
His comedic grimace had her laughing again. She ran her fingers down one of his cheeks and planted a kiss on the other.
“My point is,” he continued. “It’s a really good date. A Giants’ game? And these seats are killer! I think I can see the batter’s ear hair.”
If he kept her laughing like this, she was going to get a stomach ache. “Stop… please,” she begged, sagging against him. “If you behave, you can come with me tomorrow and Wednesday, too.”
His eyes went wide, and his mouth opened. “Are… you… serious?”
Charlie nodded, smiling.
“Oh my God. I have the greatest girlfriend in the world!”
At the word girlfriend, Charlie’s heart somersaulted. “I’m not sure if she’s as great as my boyfriend,” Charlie said shyly.
Hutch pulled her in for a kiss as the batter struck out.
EPILOGUE
Four months later
HUTCH AWOKE WITH his arm draped over Charlie, and her gorgeous bottom pressed against him. And his body was responding — with enthusiasm. In the months they’d been together, Charlie had learned to take better care of her body, and that care had softened her curves in ways that looked and felt amazing. He smiled into her hair. The thin light from his bedroom windows hinted that dawn was on its way.
Three weeks of training camp and four preseason games — the last two away — had kept them apart for the better part of a month, but the Raiders were home for the next two weeks, and Hutch intended to make every moment count. Arriving back in town, he’d driven straight to her apartment and had taken her home with him.
He should have been exhausted. Hutch had busted his ass proving himself at camp and during the preseason games. Even though the team snagged only one win — they were still the Oakland Raiders, after all — Hutch had captured four touchdowns during his limited playing time, ensuring that he made the final fifty-three after roster reductions.
Coach Del Rio had praised him, telling Hutch he’d played his heart out. But the truth was that he played to hold onto his heart. Being cut or traded would have taken him away from Charlie, and Hutch couldn’t let that happen.
He was a man with a plan.
Leaning in, Hutch nuzzled her ear. “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered.
“Mmmm,” she groaned, rolling to face him and burying her head against his bare chest. On weekdays, Charlie shot out of bed as though she were spring-loaded, but her body seemed to know when the weekend came, and she’d lie against him almost drugged. “Too early.”
For what he had in mind, Hutch hoped it wasn’t too early.
He’d told her when they first started dating that he was impulsive, and nothing could be more true. But he also knew that she loved his spontaneity — most of the time. When he’d been in Napa Valley for training camp, he’d sent her something almost every day. Flowers. A bottle of wine. A playlist on Spotify. Those gifts were the result of impulse. Once he’d even bought her a designer dress he’d seen in a boutique window. The place was called The Mustard Seed, and she’d loved the dress even more than he thought she would.
But today’s plans were no impulse. He’d made up his mind even before camp, but he still wanted to surprise her with it in person.
He just hoped she didn’t think it was too early.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “But we have a lot to do today.”
With her eyes still closed, Charlie frowned. “What do we have to do today?” she mumbled, still on the edge of sleep.
“Well…” He clasped her hand and tugged it down between them. “…first, I’m going to make love to you…”
He placed her hand around the spear of granite that tented his pajama bottoms.
She gasped at its discovery, and her eyes flew open.
“…long… and slow… and delicious…”
“Delicious?” Her voice that had been heavy with sleep now sounded languorous with desire.
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, tipping her chin up and claiming her lips. “Because I’m going to taste you all over.”
“Oh…”
He heard the catch in her breath, the way it hitched when she wanted him to touch her. He loved that sound. He let his thumbnail drag gently down her throat and over her cami until he found her left nipple.
She squeezed him, and Hutch hissed in a breath. He needed to lay out the rest of his plans before he lost the ability to speak.
He bit back his desire and pressed on. “And then I’m going to tell you how much I love you — because it’s a whole helluva lot…”
She giggled, locking those magnificent blue eyes with his. He’d first told her he loved her two months ago, but he never missed an opportunity to say it again, especially when he was lucky enough to find himself inside her.
He tweaked her hard little nipple, and her eyes closed.
“Hutch,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”
And then he had to inhale deeply through his nose because hearing those words from her always set him ablaze.
He brought his wicked hand back to the harbor of her cheek, gazing down into the dearest face he’d ever known. In it he’d found honesty, kindness, acceptance, forgiveness… love.
And beauty. Such beauty. Life in the NFL made it impossible for him to be with Charlie every day, but he was tired of missing out on the minutes and hours when they were in the same city but not under the same roof.
Looking into her eyes, he made his play. “And after I’ve told you how much I love you, I’m going to ask you to move in with me—”
Her soft gasp didn’t surprise him, but the ready tears in her eyes did.
“And if you say yes—” He hurried on even as she laid the sweetness of her hand against his cheek. “—I want to make that happen today.”
“Yes… oh, yes, Hutch,” she said, the emotion in her voice closing in on the words.
Doing his best to keep from grinning like a fool, Hutch nodded and gave her a stern frown. “Right, but I haven’t asked yet. That’s item number three on my to-do list, and, baby, first things first.”
“Right.” She laughed, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “First things fi—”
But she didn’t finish. She couldn’t. He’d stopped her with his mouth, tasting her as promised. And as always, she tasted like peaches. And summer. And happiness. And love.
He would get to all three things on his list, but the first one would take all morning.
OFF LIMITS
by Kristin Vayden
PROLOGUE
Markus
“MARKUS!” HER TONE left no question as to why she was here. But I was expecting it; it was just a matter of time before she found out. Ava and her big brother, Bryce, were twins, and one rarely did something without the other one knowing.
This being the exception.
It was a dynamic that puzzled me at first, then drew me in, giving me a window into a world I didn’t understand but craved. Bryce was my college roommate, big, laid back and a gentle giant who turned into The Hulk on the football field. We were fast friends, he being the brawn and I being the brains — marketing brains. It was a friendship that turned pro when he was drafted, and Prestige Group recruited me. It was a match made in heaven, launching both of our careers. But you couldn’t be friends with Bryce and not get to know Ava, and the more I got to know her, the harder I fell. But sometimes, it was just not meant to be. No matter how much you want it.
And right now, staring at her beautiful and furious face, I know she’ll never forgive me.
Because I wasn’t letting Bryce play it safe.
But I knew it was worth the risk; so did her brother. But he was all she had left; their parents had died five years ago. No way would she ever see past the risk to see the reward. She’d simply see the x-rays, the physical therapy needed, the chance that her brother would never recover.
But he would recover. I knew it. He knew it
.
But she’d never forgive me, even when I would, without a doubt, be proven right.
As she stomped into my office, my throat burned with the knowledge that things would never be the same. To her, I’d picked my career over her brother’s safety, his life.
But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Because what she didn’t know was that whenever it came down to it, the first person I thought of wasn’t him; it was her.
It was always her.
Just because I knew she was off-limits didn’t mean I didn’t wish she wasn’t.
And today… today I’d just sealed my fate.
As her caramel eyes burned through me, tears making her long lashes sharp spikes as she blinked, causing angry tears to slide down her face, trailing along her wide and expressive lips, she shook her head.
Writing me off.
And without another word, she simply turned and walked away.
Out of my life.
But you can’t lose what you never had…
No matter how much you wanted it to begin with.
CHAPTER ONE
Markus
“YOU’RE AN ABSOLUTE freak of nature.” I shook my head, reaching out and pulling Bryce into a bro hug, almost entirely swallowed by his huge bulk.
Five years. It had been five years since his almost career-ending accident. Normally, linebackers didn’t bounce back from an ACL tear or a moderate grade concussion, but medical technology was progressing fast, especially for athletes.
And he’d accomplished more than any of us had expected.
Pro Bowl two years in a row.
And last year, his team had taken home Super Bowl rings.
He’d been drafted by the New York Jets then transferred to the Patriots a year later. Three years ago, the Seahawks had picked him up, and he had embraced Seattle as home.
“That’s right, I am! Boom, baby!” Bryce gave me a bone-shaking high five that had me wincing, but nothing could take away from my grin. I was so proud of him.
“Mark-KUSS!” One of the sideline coaches shouted my name, and I waved. The hall to the locker room was growing more congested by the moment, and I turned to Bryce.
