by Desiree Holt
Hello, morning boner.
“Don’t hang out in the doorway.” He motioned her forward, unsmiling. “Did you bring my coffee?”
Okay, so Mr. Grumpy was still hanging around.
“Not today, smart guy. Today we’re getting you out of bed right away, getting your blood moving before you get your first lesson in taking a solo shower.”
He snorted. “That will be an interesting change.”
“Whatever. I’m getting your juice and coffee, but you won’t get it in bed. It’s a nice day. I’m taking it out onto the patio. And I have a treat for you.”
His eyes widened slightly and a corner of his mouth ticked up in a hint of a grin. Was Mr. Grumpy leaving? “A treat? Are you going to have breakfast with me in the nude?”
What he said didn’t bother her half as much as the fact that she sensed he was only pretending to joke. The slight buoyancy he’d gotten from the removal of the soft cast and the news he could start wrist therapy and showering by himself had dissipated. At first she’d chalked it all up to him just feeling sorry for himself, but as she got to know him better, she had a sense it went much deeper than that. She understood that football was a big part of his life, but what was going to happen if it turned out it could only be a small part from now on? What would he do?
In that moment, it became a goal of hers to show him that there was life after football. That there were other things, like this Good Shepard House and more opportunities she’d come across in his mail. She almost laughed at her thoughts, but at least it would give her something to focus on besides the void her life was currently in.
“Erin?”
Jake’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. She grinned.
“Uh, no, I’m not dining in the nude with you. But I did get fresh bagels, banana nut muffins, and cinnamon streusel coffee cake from Take the Cake.” She forced a smile. “Ivy texted me it’s one of your favorites.”
He eyed her for a long moment. “Is that supposed to sweeten me up?”
Her lips quirked up in a smile. “As if. But you might enjoy it. Come on. Out of that bed.”
“Wow.” His forehead creased in a scowl. “No more Miss Sweetheart, right?”
Erin had to chuckle. “She forgot to show up. Now come on. Get your ass to the bathroom like a good little boy, and I’ll get breakfast. I also have some more stuff to go over with you.”
Still scowling, he pushed himself upright and reached for his crutches. “I’m telling Ivy on you. She promised me someone nice.”
“Yeah? You’d have to get her to talk to you first. And I can be nice when I want to.” Now why the hell had she said that? “See you in a few.”
“Wait. What happens if I fall on the way to the bathroom or out to the patio?”
She sighed in exasperation. “You’ve been doing just fine for the past few days. But if that happens, I’ll call someone with a forklift to haul your ass back upright.”
Knowing that was her best exit line, she left the room and headed for the kitchen.
Chapter 10
“You know, I’m actually beginning to enjoy breakfast out here.” Jake helped himself to a banana nut muffin, cut it precisely in half, and took a bite.
“That was the point,” Erin told him. She refilled both their mugs from the carafe of coffee. “Getting you out of that bed.”
“And do you have a plan for me getting you back into it?” The words were out before he even realized it, but he wouldn’t have taken them back. He was pleased to see a soft blush creep up Erin’s beautiful cheeks.
“I think that ship has sailed.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Things seem to be going along okay without it. Why rock the boat?”
Well, crap.
Jake kept hoping he could scale that big wall that was back in place around her, and he planned to keep trying. With his future still uncertain, it gave him something to focus on.
She nodded at her ever-present iPad, now sitting at her elbow. “We need to get at the e-mails and messages after breakfast. You’ll be happy to know I cleaned out most of what was in there.”
“See?” He grinned. “I knew you were perfect for the job.” This one and a few others.
What are you doing, Russell? What will you even have to offer her if you get the death blow when the cast comes off? Talk about being selfish. But he just could not seem to help himself.
“Ivy finally called,” she told him.
“Damn nice of her,” he grumped.
“She wanted to check on your progress.” Erin bit off a piece of muffin, chewed, and swallowed.
“Did she at least apologize for getting you into this mess?” And me, he wanted to add.
Erin shook her head. “Not a bit. She did say she’d be by to see you when you stop wanting to rip her head off.”
He didn’t comment, so she looked at her iPad again. Today’s list, he was sure.
“After breakfast we have to do your toes.”
She said the words so primly he actually burst out laughing. “I’m sorry if that offends your sensibilities. Don’t you work with the appendages of your regular clients?”
“I work in a spa or a resort.” She emphasized the words. “Their toes don’t usually come into play.”
“No? Well, maybe they should.” He saw the muscles in her jaw tighten. He was really getting into pushing her buttons. “The therapist said they were getting swollen. You’d hate for me to have swollen toes, wouldn’t you?”
He loved the feel of her slender fingers on him as she worked each individual digit the way the therapist had shown her. It might not be on her list of favorite things to do, but she sucked it up and handled it. He got the distinct feeling that sticking this out to the end had become a point of pride with her.
“I could see you were developing a problem. I’ll take care of it.” Another sip of coffee. Another bite of muffin.
Alrighty!
He could hardly wait until the guy showed up later to show them how to wrap his cast. Would she have to cover his leg all the way to his balls? Would her fingers brush against them? Touch his dick? The thought of that intimacy made him painfully hard. It took every bit of discipline he possessed to push the images out of his brain. “Do you have time in your busy schedule to watch a movie this afternoon?” he asked.
“My schedule is busy with you,” she reminded him, “so yes. If that’s what you want to do.” She pinned him with a look. “In the great room, though.”
He burst out laughing. “Afraid to watch it with me in my bedroom, are you?”
One corner of her mouth twitched as she tried to hide a grin. “Just aware of your ulterior motives.”
“Maybe they wouldn’t be so ulterior if you would just remember how hot we are together and give us another chance.”
“There’s a Mustangs game on tonight,” she told him. “How about watching that with me?”
Just like that, his rare good mood vanished. “Way to kill a nice buzz,” he snapped.
“Are you planning to boycott them forever?” she asked.
“When I’m back in the harness, I’ll have plenty of time to watch game films.”
“Not the same thing,” she pointed out.
“Don’t care. Just forget it.” He pushed back from the table. Obviously, though, she was through letting him just lie in bed, feeling sorry for himself. He had to admit she nagged almost as well as Ivy did.
“Let’s do my toes. I can hardly wait.”
“You know you’ve been a real bear the last few days,” she told him as she rose from her own chair. “I was beginning to miss that side of your charming personality.”
At this particular moment, he was in no mood for her snarkiness. The frustration of his situation like a sore spot that he kept pushing at, as if to remind himself exactly how rotten this whole thing was.
“I suppose,” she went on, “this means you still don’t want to take any phone calls?”
&n
bsp; “There’s no one I want to talk to,” he insisted. “I’m not in the mood to handle that stuff myself. You agreed to do it, so do it.”
When they were finished with his toes, and Erin went to clean up after breakfast, he clumped his way to the den where he fired up his laptop. No one ever entered this room except him. He made his way into the room early enough to put away all the things he didn’t share with others. Personal mementos that had little to do with the game or his career. Things that reminded him of very intimate parts of his life. It took him a while, but when he finally collapsed back into the desk chair, the only visible signs of his life and career were a few framed photos that had been published everywhere.
Seated at his desk, he decided to check out the Coyotes Facebook page. For kicks, he got an account of his own, something he had resisted until now. Despite what some would call a flamboyant lifestyle, with a string of Eye Candy Mandys, he didn’t flaunt himself the way a lot of the other guys did.
“Nice picture.”
He looked up and realized Erin had walked into the room.
She’d spotted the photo of the state champion Granite Falls Coyotes team, the one where they’d hoisted the big trophy, front and center on his desk.
“You know what it is? Oh, of course you do. What else would it be?”
“I did a search for them the other night,” she told him.
“You did? How come?” That was interesting. According to everything she said and did, she had zero interest in him. Zip.
She shrugged. “How could I not? I have the usual dose of human curiosity. You guys were apparently the talk of the state for a long time. Not just for winning but for the community service work you did and for how tight you were together.”
He managed a smile. That was true, every bit of it. “Yeah, we were like family. It was great.”
“So how come you haven’t kept in touch with them since then?” she persisted.
He shrugged. “We all went in different directions after graduation. Then we all got busy with whatever we were doing.”
“So, are you checking Coyotes Win on Facebook now?”
He nodded. “Shay Reilly did a very good job setting it up,” he noted.
“She did,” Erin agreed. “I see she’s got head shots of all the players from the yearbook and current ones for some of you guys. And bios when she was able to get them. Some of you still play in the NFL, some others are retired for a variety of reasons. And then there are those who never played after college.”
“Uh-huh.” He studied the shots.
She moved into the room. “You know Joe Reilly does a show on Fox Sports.”
“Mm-hmm.” He was well aware of Joe’s program, Inside the Helmet.
“Rafe Ortiz works security for the owners of the stadium,” she continued. “Hank Beckham is an engineer.”
He thought about sending Shay a message to ask where he could send stuff about himself, but since he had no idea where he’d be after this season, he decided to wait.
Quit feeling so sorry for yourself.
But it was damn hard. Without football, he really didn’t know who he was.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I have some things to take care of.”
He was still engrossed when she called him for lunch. He said little, and Erin, sensing he was in no mood for conversation, left him to his silence. His meeting with Lynne Corday was that afternoon and he wanted to prepare for it. He crutched back into the den, realizing he was actually getting much better on the clumsy things. The physical therapist had told him to practice with them daily so they became easier to use. Still, every time he propped them under his arms he cursed the circumstance that made them necessary.
He wanted to see today’s visitor in the den, though. Other than his bedroom, it was really the only room in the house that gave him the situation he wanted. Needed. He could close the door and their conversation could be completely private.
He leaned back in the big upholstered chair, his foot propped on an ottoman, crutches leaning next to the desk at the ready, and forced himself to relax.
“Knock, knock.”
He looked up to see Erin in the doorway, holding a large tray.
“I thought you might like to serve something to your guest,” she told him. “I ran to the bakery for some special cookies and fixed a pitcher of iced tea. Is it okay to set it on this little table?”
“Sure. Thanks for this.” He watched her place the tray and rearrange the plates and glasses. “You do good work. Maybe I could hire you full time.”
There was more truth than poetry in his words. With each passing day, he realized how important she was becoming to him. It went way beyond the sex. Somehow he had to make this work between them, because he wanted her in his life and for more than just sex.
“To be your personal caretaker? Ha!” She made a face. “We both know how well that would work out. Well, if you’re all set, I’ll just hang out in the kitchen until your guest gets here and I can let her in.”
“And what do you plan to be doing in the kitchen?”
She shrugged. “Working at my laptop.”
“How’s the hunt for job openings going?” He asked the question casually but he damn well didn’t want her finding something.
“Still nothing. But I’m eternally optimistic.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Just out of curiosity, what will you do if you find one before your obligation here is up?”
“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But even if I find something, the process takes forever, so I don’t think you’ll need to be placing a classified ad just yet. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
He studied her for a long moment. God, she was so prickly. So edgy. So independent. And so damn sexy. She was everything he wanted in a woman, and he’d managed to make himself into something that was the total opposite of what she wanted.
She looked so appealing standing there in her slacks that fit her butt and her hips so well and the short-sleeved sweater that draped over breasts that made his mouth water. Her soft, plump lips were slicked with a pale lip gloss. Other than that, she wore no makeup. God knew she didn’t need it.
The other night she’d been into it as much as he was. No way could she fake her responses. But the damn cast had been a mood killer, and since then she’d acted as if nothing happened. Still, the heat never stopped simmering in her eyes. Oh, yeah, she still wanted him, no matter how much she tried to deny it, just as much as he wanted her. He sure didn’t plan to make love to her only in dreams, especially since she’d admitted she’d had dreams, too.
“Jake?”
She stood there, waiting expectantly for an answer, so he gave himself a mental shake.
“No, nothing else. Thanks for this.”
“All right then. I’ll show your guest in when she arrives. Enjoy your afternoon.”
She obviously wasn’t about to hang around and make idle conversation with him.
Lynne Corday arrived promptly at three thirty. Erin showed her in, nodded at him, and closed the door.
“Nice companion,” she teased him. “Although I have to say she doesn’t seem quite your type. Or the type to be a housekeeper.”
Jake ground his teeth. “She’s not.”
“Oh?” Lynne lifted an eyebrow. “That sounds interesting. Is there a story behind this?”
“I needed some help here until I can manage by myself, the team wanted someone who was a buffer between me and the public, and my sister is trying to play matchmaker and pissing both of us off. And, well, she needed a job.”
Lynne chuckled. “From my few conversations with her, I’d say she’d have no trouble getting one.”
“She wants to stay in training and spa work. It’s what her degree is in, and there doesn’t appear to be any openings around here at the moment. Anyway, I’d rather not discuss Erin Bass, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Of cour
se.” She looked at the tray Erin had left. “If these are for me, you get high marks. I love the cookies from Take the Cake.”
“Help yourself, please.”
She poured iced tea for both of them, helped herself to a cookie, then opened her briefcase.
“The reason I asked for this meeting is I have the estimates on the renovations and addition you asked for.” She took another quick bite of cookie before pulling out a folder and handing it to him. She took out a similar one for herself. “I’d like to go over the figures for you and get a feel for what you want to do and when you want to proceed.”
“This is all just between you and me, right?” he asked. “Not even anyone on the staff knows?”
“Yes. Just the two of us.” She lifted a shoulder. “But it still puzzles me why you are so determined to be completely anonymous. What you’re doing—have done—is so wonderful. You’ve helped so many people. Why don’t you want people to know about it?”
“For the same reason you don’t publicize the house itself. To protect the safety of the women and kids who come to you there. They don’t deserve to have their privacy invaded.”
“I agree.” She nodded. “But at least let us recognize you within the organization. I mean, for goodness sake, you spend time there during the off-season with the kids when I know you must have other things to do. And I can’t count the number of boys you’ve coached on the mini football field you had built for us.”
“Just leave it be, okay? It’s my choice. Let’s go over these estimates and drawings.”
By the time they’d gone through everything in the folder and debated the items on the list, making adjustments as they went, they’d finished the tea and the cookies were gone. And Lynne Corday wore a pleased smile on her face.
“So you’ll get the new contracts drawn up and bring them by?” he asked. “And get me the start date. The earlier the better.”
“I’ll try to have them by the end of the week.”
“Good deal.”
