Dare To Love Series: Dare Me Again (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Cora Seton

  “My situation is different than yours was. For one thing, I’m not flat broke. I own a house and a car, and I have savings, too. I won’t have to cart a baby stroller around on a bus.”

  “True, but you’ll still be up around the clock when she has colic, and you’ll have to put her into daycare for fifty hours a week if you want to maintain your work schedule. What about when you have to travel for presentations and awards banquets? It’s possible to raise a baby on your own, but it’s not easy.”

  “It’s better than not having a baby at all.” Carolina finished her martini and held up her glass. The bartender nodded. A minute later he brought a replacement.

  “Better yet would be to pick a man who’d like to be a father.”

  Winnie could afford to be smug. When Carrie was two, Evan Streeter had hired Winnie to manage his art sales, and the two had fallen head over heels in love. Evan played stay-at-home dad from eight to two while Winnie performed her virtual assistant duties, and then Winnie took over while he went into his studio to paint.

  “Evan is one of a kind.” She hoped Winnie would drop it, but of course she didn’t. This was how they helped each other—and drove each other batshit crazy. They pushed and pushed until the real answers were exposed—the answers that made all the difference.

  “You don’t think Connor could be a supportive husband?”

  “I don’t think of Connor that way at all!”

  “Bullshit. Valentine’s Day, three years ago.”

  Carolina drained her martini in one gulp. “You are never, ever going to let that go, are you?”

  “Nope.” Winnie took a delicate sip from her non-alcoholic drink. “You said you loved Connor. That he…how did you put it? Oh, right. He got you hot, wet and hungry.”

  “I never said that.” God, that was disgusting. “I blame the Daiquiris.”

  “There were a lot of Daiquiris. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.”

  Carolina signalled the waiter again. “Look, I do love Connor. As a friend. He’s been there almost as long as you have and he’s funny and loyal…”

  “And smokin’ hot and gorgeous and a football player and…”

  “And I don’t want a husband.”

  “Oh, here we go.” It was Winnie’s turn to drain her drink. “Barkeep, get me another,” she said, pretending to slur her words. “I need to be drunk if I have to listen to this again.” Carolina rolled her eyes. Winnie could drink a dozen mocktails and not get a buzz. Her friend was such a stick in the mud these days.

  “I’m not going to depend on a man,” she said.

  “… on a man,” Winnie echoed. “I was burned once and I’ll never trust anyone with a y chromosome again! Am I getting this right?”

  “Yes, you’re getting it right,” Carolina said stiffly.

  “And you’re getting it wrong. Prince Charming is right in front of you. You’ve got the glass slippers on your feet and you’re in love with him already. Get in the damn carriage and ride away with him!”

  “So the clock can strike twelve and it can all disappear? No thanks.”

  “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

  “I’ve always known that. Now help me figure out how to convince Connor to knock me up.”

  Richmond Rule #3

  Practice, practice, practice.

  How do you know when you’re ready for the big leagues? When playing is as natural as breathing…

  “BRODY, CAN YOU tell me what happened out there today? You were on fire!” Carolina elbowed her way between two half-naked football players to reach the Thunder’s wide receiver, who had just led the way to the team’s first win in three games. With her slight build, it would have been all too easy for her to get lost in the crowded post-game locker room, but Carolina had long ago learned to be assertive. Her success depended on it.

  “I knew it was make-or-break time for me,” Brody said. “I knew I let my team down in the last two games and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s letting down my team. I told myself I needed to show up today. Not just come and play the game. Not just give it a hundred percent. Show up, like you say in your blog.”

  Carolina smiled. Now she had football stars quoting her. That was a drastic turn of events from when she started Go Long five years ago. The Thunder players knew she’d rake them over hot coals if they deserved it, but they also knew she’d raise them up as heroes and role models when they earned such praise.

  As she wrapped up the interview, she quickly scanned the other players. She knew Brody would headline her blog this week. He’d epitomized her fifth rule for success in the game, and even quoted it, for heaven’s sake. She couldn’t ask for a better set up for her column. But there was another player she wanted to speak to—for far more personal reasons.

  She spotted Connor in the corner pulling a shirt over his broad, well-muscled shoulders. Just like every time she looked him over, something low in her gut tightened and reminded her it had been far too long since she’d had any fun with a man. If she’d been the type to swoon, any number of players in this room should have bowled her over. She didn’t know what it was about Connor that did the trick. His rock-solid body—all 225 pounds of solid muscle and sculpted flesh? His killer smile that didn’t cross his face often, but knocked the breath right out of her when it did? The way he studied her when she talked, as if he wanted to pry beneath her exterior and learn each and every one of her secrets? Or the lethal combination of all these things?

  Whatever it was, Carolina found it hard to breathe, let alone speak, whenever Connor came near. Considering he worked hard to get near her every week, that made her job all the more difficult. Most of the time she kept a measure of distance between herself and the players, but Connor was special. Without him she wouldn’t even have access to them. She hated to admit it, but the truth was when it came time to transform her idea for the Go Long blog into a reality, she’d choked. She’d never forget the way she’d felt five years ago when she’d stood outside the locker room door for the first time and found herself unable to reach out and grab its handle. She’d been so determined to succeed she’d psyched herself out.

  Connor, who’d hung back on the field to talk to the coach while the rest of his teammates filed inside that day, came up behind her. He hadn’t asked who she was or why she thought she deserved locker-room access. Instead, he’d reached around her and turned the handle. “Here’s the way it works,” he’d said, and pushed it open wide. “Now you walk right on in.”

  She’d done that, bracing herself for his ridicule, but he hadn’t ridiculed her. “Looking for someone in particular?”

  “The player who most embodies success.” She’d thanked God her voice had come out strong and clear.

  She’d expected Connor to point to Brody or possibly to puff out his own chest and suggest she interview him. Instead, he led her to a cornerback, Ryan Weaver. “Here’s your man. Did you see how he caught LeRoy June in the second quarter? Nobody runs like Ryan. Nobody weaves and dodges like him. That man can spot a path to success in a thicket of opposition.”

  Carolina had quoted Connor verbatim in her column and talked about the importance of identifying goals and planning your pathways to them. She’d talked about ways women could chart their paths, from traditional business plans to new age vision boards. She’d also talked about keeping light on your feet and changing your direction when unforeseen obstacles came up. Her idea to illustrate her points with football lingo but gear her column toward women instantly caught the attention of the blogosphere and soon Go Long became the go-to column for up-and-coming female leaders—both on the playing field and in the boardroom.

  Carolina had sent Connor a thank-you note. In return, he’d invited her to dinner. Heady with her new success she’d said yes—and then instantly regretted it. Wasn’t this exactly the scenario she always cautioned other women against? Mixing relationships and business never worked. Unfortunately, going back on your word was another no-no. She’d gone to dinn
er and had a terrific time, despite her intention not to, but as soon as she’d taken her last bite of filet mignon, she’d set down her fork and told Connor she needed to leave, as she had another engagement.

  Connor had watched her with that assessing gaze of his, then flashed a smile that ignited a slow burn deep inside her. “That’s a shame,” was all he’d said and stood up to walk her to the door. She’d known even in that moment she’d probably turned down the best thing she’d ever been offered in her life.

  She’d stood her ground, though, and declined all further overtures, although they’d become fast friends over the years. When Connor’s attention turned elsewhere she told herself it was for the best.

  That was a lie. Each time she spotted Connor with a new woman after a game or at an event, the blow to her heart was just as hard as the first time. Somehow she’d never found an appropriate man to replace Connor with either, someone who didn’t run in the same circles she did. She supposed that was the problem; no one running in different circles would get the chance to meet her, since all she did was work.

  Not anymore, she reminded herself.

  She thanked Brody for his time and inched her way through the crowded room until she could reach out and tap Connor on the arm. Engaged in tugging on a pair of jeans over boxer briefs that outlined every muscle of his powerful thighs, he turned to look, clearly startled.

  “Carolina.” He finished zipping his fly, did up the button and crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t see you coming.”

  “My evil plan worked.”

  “You have an evil plan?”

  “You sound surprised.” She tapped him on the arm again, liking the solidity of the muscles beneath his skin.

  A corner of his mouth curved up. “Enjoying yourself?” He nodded at her hand.

  “Surprisingly, yes.” She smiled back at him. “Are you coming to Robert Dare’s birthday bash this weekend?”

  He blinked, then grinned. Once again desire kindled inside of her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Are you going to come this year?”

  “Thinking about it. Who’s your date?” She hoped her tone was suitably nonchalant.

  “Don’t have one. How about you?”

  “I don’t have one either. But then, I never do.”

  He leaned against the row of lockers. “I could never understand that. How does a beautiful woman like you stay single in this town?”

  “By turning down the invitations of everyone remotely connected to football.”

  “Someone in Miami must hate the sport.”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t met him yet. Anyway. Just wanted to see if you’d be free.”

  “Are you asking me out, Carolina Richmond?”

  “I’m asking you to help me fleece Bill Sanchez out of a few of the dollars he’s hoarding in his vault.” Bill Sanchez was noted for his wealth—and for the difficulty of parting him from it. Carolina wanted to set up a scholarship fund for female athletes looking to enroll in Florida State’s engineering department. But that wasn’t why she had asked. Connor knew it as well as she did.

  His smile grew sardonic. “Good luck with that. Why do you think I can help?”

  “Because I’ve watched Bill Sanchez a long time. He’s not a bad man, but he is sexist, and he loves football. You can convince him to fund my new program.”

  “Okay, I’ll help you whip Sanchez into line. In return, I want a promise.” He touched her arm just as she had touched his, but it wasn’t a tap; it was a caress.

  “What kind of promise?” She edged away.

  “You’ll stick with me all night. No cutting out before dessert.”

  She smiled at how well he knew her. She liked to conduct business early during these affairs and leave before the long, boring speeches started. “I’ll stay until the gala is over.”

  “And you’ll dance with me.”

  It was her turn to make a face. “If I have to.” But secretly she looked forward to it. Connor’s arms around her, his hands resting on her hips… She was hot and bothered already. All the better to get pregnant when they made sweet love.

  “And you’ll talk about the future with me.”

  She frowned. It was as if he’d read her mind, but that was impossible. Surely he couldn’t tell she had designs on his body… and his sperm.

  “Sure, I’ll talk about the future with you,” she said to Connor. “In fact, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that? My performance isn’t up to snuff? I noticed it’s been a while since you featured me on your blog.”

  “Actually your performance does come into it.” She smiled as he straightened and all humor vanished from his face. Connor took football very seriously. “We’ll talk about it more on Saturday night when you pick me up.”

  “I think we should talk about it now.” The edge to his voice could have sliced through steel.

  “Okay, we’ll talk about it now.” Her smile spread into a grin. “How would you like to make a baby with me?”

  OF ALL THE requests that Carolina could have made, helping her to make a baby was the last thing he’d expected her to say. Hell, he couldn’t get her to have dinner with him, let alone steal more than a single kiss. They’d never approached the subject of sex. Now she wanted to jump straight to children?

  Maybe his evil plan was working.

  “I’m in.” He grinned at her. He couldn’t help himself.

  “That was fast. Don’t you want to think it over?”

  She looked flustered. Good. He liked Carolina flustered. It didn’t happen often enough for his taste. He figured he’d fluster her some more. Reaching out, he cupped her chin and drew her close. Before she could protest, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her mouth. She tasted delicious, just like the last time. Carolina made a little sound, half-protest, half-whimper and he forgot about everything else. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Deepening the kiss, he let her know he didn’t need to think anything over. When he finally pulled back her shock gratified him. “Yeah, I’m definitely in.”

  “For God’s sake.” Carolina tried to pull away, but he held fast; it had taken five years to get her into his arms. “Connor, you’re being ridiculous. I just want a baby. I don’t want a relationship.”

  “What?” He let her go and she stumbled backward. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about single motherhood. I want a child. I need a sperm donor. Your sperm should do the trick.”

  “My sperm? Are you kidding me?” He took hold of her elbow and firmly led the way toward the showers.

  “Connor!”

  “We need to talk privately. No one’s in here. Oh, sorry, Holden.” He pulled Carolina aside as the linebacker walked past.

  “No problem.” Holden hitched up a towel that was slung low at his waist. “Hi, Carolina.”

  “Hi, Holden. Good game.”

  Connor craned his neck around the corner. “We’re clear.” He tugged her farther away from the crowded change room. “Do you honestly think I’d have a kid with you and walk away?”

  “I thought you football players did that all the time.” It was a low blow and she knew it. Some players were callous like that. Others had been victimized by women looking for a meal ticket. As some of them had learned the hard way, even when a paternity test exonerated you from any wrongdoing, the taint on your character from the accusation still stuck.

  “I don’t.”

  She sighed. “Of course you don’t. Which is why I’m picking you.”

  “I suppose you want me to hand over a test-tube full?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “I kind of hoped we could do it the old-fashioned way. It’s cheaper.”

  “Well, hell—yeah, money ought to be your first consideration in the matter.”

  Carolina just looked at him.

  “Fuck.” She was a piece of work, and the worst thing was, he still didn’t want to walk away. “Yeah. Sure. I’m in.�
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  “You are?” Carolina brightened.

  “One condition, though.”

  Her smile disappeared. “What’s that?”

  “You marry me first.”

  Carolina gaped at him. “Marry you?”

  He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I dare you to say yes.”

  She pushed him away. “I’m being serious here.”

  “So am I.”

  “We’ve never gone on a date—”

  Connor drew himself up. “We sure as hell did.”

  “Dinner,” she scoffed.

  “Not my fault you cut it short.”

  “Look, I’m not asking for a commitment. I just want a baby. Is that too much to ask?”

  With her looking at him like that, her gray-green eyes begging him to agree, he almost wanted to give in. Trouble was, it was too much to ask. “Any child of mine’s going to have a father. Me,” he clarified. “Come on, Carolina, even you have to know this isn’t something to joke about.”

  She deflated suddenly. “Yeah, I know that.” Her finger tapped on her arm. “Maybe I’ll look into adoption.”

  He stifled the urge to growl aloud. “Or you could marry me.”

  “Wright, get real.”

  “Just how real do you want me to get? You want me to do this on bended knee? I’ll do it.”

  She grabbed at him when he began to sink down, just like he knew she would. “Fine. Forget I ever said anything.”