“I know,” she reassured him gently. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you with my secret. I wasn’t ‘keeping’ it from you at all, really. From everyone else, yes, since I had my family and the success of the site to consider. But with you, I never kept it from you, because I never ‘had’ to be L.J. Hart with you. Ever. You were the only one in my life with who I’ve ever been able to be just me around. All the time, just Leila. And I liked it. So it wasn’t something I was keeping from you, it was something that sort of didn’t exist around you. Does that make sense?”
His eyes ran over her face as he nodded. “I’m glad then. That you didn’t tell me. That you could be just Leila with me.”
She watched his reaction. “That said, I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, and that you had to find out like this.”
“No apologies necessary. We told each other no deep, dark secrets until we were ready.”
A part of her speculated in that moment what his secrets were, and how she’d react when, if, she ever discovered what they were.
As if he were wondering over that as well, he stood there in his token Jackson silence.
Unsure of what more to say, she turned to leave. She hadn’t been lying earlier. She had grand plans of eviscerating Grant online the second she got home—
Leila got exactly two steps in before she was drawn to a stop by Jackson’s hand clamping shut around hers. “Why did you call me?”
She spun around. “What?”
“Clearly, you didn’t come back early from Utah to deal with this mess. So why did you come back early, sunshine? And why’d you call me from the airport?”
Here it was. That classy, non-insane declaration she had to give him.
Taking a deep breath, she said softly, “I missed…talking to you. After almost two months of talking to you nearly every day, I missed…hearing your voice.”
She looked up into his eyes. “I missed you.”
***
Heart hammering like a damn drum in his chest, he replayed her whispered confession a few more times in his head to make sure he’d heard it correctly.
Then he dragged her into his arms.
“I missed you too, sunshine. Three longest goddamn days of my life. I kept picturing your ex touching you, upsetting you, hell, breathing the same air as you, and I wanted to strangle the son of a bitch with my bare hands.”
“That can still be arranged,” she muttered in a muffled grouse against his chest, before he felt all the tension drain out of her body.
Her arms wrapped around his torso and she turned to lay her head against his chest, directly over his heart. “Say it again,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I missed you, sweetheart. So damn much I honestly think that if the whole video fiasco hadn’t happened, I would’ve caved and jumped on a plane to Utah to see you.”
Her gasp came swift, and he felt her hold it in her chest like a balloon of air.
After a few long moments, he looked down at her, puzzled, worried she was going to turn blue in the face soon. “Sunshine, what’re you doing?”
With a tremulous smile, she exhaled and confessed, “I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you a question in a classy, non-insane way, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail miserably so I’m trying to keep it to myself.”
Good lord, this woman never failed to do and say things that nailed him square in the chest. “Don’t keep it to yourself. Let me hear your question, baby, exactly as it is in that brilliant, busy little head of yours.”
She took a deep breath, and then whooshed out, “Do you have plans tonight? If not, do you want to have a movie night at my place? I was actually planning on grabbing takeout from that brewpub in your neck of the woods, the one your friend is the co-owner of. You can help me disband my website and send all my regulars into a blind panic before football season.”
It all came out as one long run-on sentence request, and it was adorable as hell.
Too focused on finally having her in his arms to be able to answer her just yet, it was all he could do to keep his caveman instincts from throwing her over his shoulder and pulling her into a cave so he could just spend a day kissing her senseless. Kissing her until she never left him again.
Even the statement had his arms tightening around her until she squeaked.
But he just couldn’t let her go.
He’d meant what he’d said earlier. It had taken just a single look at her face for him to know she was innocent. He hadn’t needed any of the proof she’d offered them. He’d seen it in her eyes, and heard it in her voice.
But more importantly, he’d felt it in his heart.
So while the rest of the men in the room had been busy quizzing her about her site, Jackson had been busy listening to what his heart had to say.
Essentially, it came down to one thing: He trusted her. More than he’d ever trusted any woman in his life.
It had been a jarring, but grounding revelation that, on instant replay now, was provoking yet another python-like hug around her perfect little body.
A muffled murmur puffed out against his chest and he grinned at the question, loosening his hold just enough so he could see that smile he’d heard in her question.
“Yes, sunshine,” he replied. “That’s a yes to all of it.”
CHAPTER NINE
Two weeks later, Jackson was still smiling.
Somehow, they’d landed on an unspoken agreement to spend time together casually. No relationship questions, no pressure.
No sex.
…And he was still smiling.
Not that he didn’t want the sex. Of course he did. Hell, there were only so many cold showers a man could take before he went insane. But honestly, it just never came up. Every night they hung out, the hours just flew by. They’d watch movies, or argue about sports, or just talk about random things until she fell asleep on him mid-sentence.
He just couldn’t get enough of her.
The only downside to this new development, however, was that, apparently—if the rumors were to be taken at face value—he turned into a growly, ornery bear at the network whenever Leila went out of town.
He was still gathering more data regarding these wild accusations.
Okay, so admittedly, her trips, even the short ones to neighboring states for NFL training camp, weren’t his favorite thing. But who could blame him? He of course loved supporting her career, but he hated thinking about her a full state away from him with dozens of professional athletes sleeping a whole heck of a lot closer to her than he was.
What’s worse, that magical thing that happened whenever he and Leila hung out—where the hours would fly by—seemed to work in the opposite direction whenever she wasn’t there. His nights were inexplicably, at least three times longer whenever she was out of town.
He hated it. But, but he had to admit, seeing her light up when she saw him for the first time again in the terminal, and feeling her launch herself into his arms was something special.
He was getting addicted to it. All of it.
He was getting addicted to her.
Which was probably why he was currently trying not to throttle their studio assistant for not telling him sooner that there was new tension between Leila and the main anchor, Dick. Important freaking news that someone, somewhere should’ve told him, damn it. Dick was immature and had a mile-wide mean streak. And while Jackson respected that Leila hadn’t ratted out a colleague, this new side of him—the one that was hopelessly addicted to her—wanted to beat the arrogant little prick for messing with Leila.
Apparently, it had started two whole freaking weeks ago, when Leila had officially shut down the Gridiron Locks and Picks Weekly site. By the end of the day, the DBC Sports Network execs had issued a public statement defending Leila, stating that after going through all her reports, they’d discovered absolutely no wrong-doing had occurred. And following the meetings she’d suggested with the Hawks, the Outlaws, and the Miners, each team’s GM had similarly
issued statements in defense of Leila.
By the next day, the DBC Sports Network’s customer service email system had become overloaded with requests for Leila to continue to do her locks and picks, only this time, on air.
And as of yesterday, Leila had become the most popular on-screen talent their network had, with over triple the social media following of every anchor at the network…combined.
As a result, Dick had been behaving badly to her ever since—talking down to her, stealing credit for her investigative work, and constantly hogging the bigger stories that Leila should’ve been allowed to reveal on air.
Hell, no. Not on Jackson’s watch.
As far as Jackson was concerned, the mysterious loss of communication between the network and Leila and her camera crew the very morning that the Hawks had picked up one of the all-star tight ends in the league was an act of fate.
…That he’d just happened to know about in advance.
What could he say, sometimes, fate needed a little nudge.
“H’lo?” Leila answered on the first ring, sounding frantic.
“Everything going okay there, sunshine?”
“Jackson! I can see Skip right now. What should I do? I just saw two news vans pulling into the parking lot. Should I bum rush him and sit on him until our comms get fixed? Oh! Or can you run down and ask Dick for the questions he wants to ask so we can break the story first?”
“Calm down, sweetheart. Don’t worry about Dick. You don’t need to use any of his questions. Just step back and think about it the way you used to do your locks and picks. Think about the stats, look at all the moving pieces. If you’re worried, you can keep me on speaker phone. That way, if you feel like you need a second, I’ll distract Skip with my hilarious wit.”
Leila chuckled into the phone line.
“Honey, you’ve got this. I believe in you. Now go out and get us that exclusive.”
Good morning. Breaking news here from the Hawks training grounds. We’ve just received word that the Hawks have signed prized tight end Brock Trufant. And we’re here with you live with Coach Harding.
Coach, does the addition of Trufant to your line-up mean that you’ll be transitioning to a more pass-heavy offense, now that your new starting tight end has a very different style of play from your former tight end, who was particularly known for his run blocking and pass protection?
At Skip’s surprised look, she shrugged and casually tapped her earpiece dangling over her shoulder instead of in her ear to let him know that she was off-comm. Any questions he may have gotten from the network for this interview hadn’t made their way into her hands.
A small smile peeked out at the corner of Skip’s mouth, before he looked right into the camera for a brief, head-shaking moment.
Jackson chuckled, knowing that Skip was looking straight at him through the camera. No doubt because Skip was well-aware that Jackson sometimes changed the fate of things that happened at the network. For the greater good.
“Only you’d ask me a ballsy question like that, Hart.”
“I take that as a compliment, Coach. I’ve been trained well.”
This time, it was Leila looking straight at him through the camera, Jackson was certain of it.
Skip let loose a rusty little laugh. And Jackson was pretty sure that wobble in the feed was the camera man doing a double take over the rare sound.
“Okay, bottom line, we just resigned our running back as well, whose strength is the run over the pass. So we’ll be trying out both offensive strategies as we head into pre-season, meaning—before you ask, because I know you will—our newly drafted quarterback might not have the ease-in we normally allow during training camp. That’s all you’re getting out of me, Hart.”
For a training camp interview, from Skip Harding, that was plenty. And judging from her wide smile, Leila damn well knew it.
Well, there you have it. Reporting to you live from the Hawks’ training camp in Flagstaff, I’m Leila Hart, and apparently, that’s all I’m getting out of him. Back to you, Dick.
The camera man made sure to catch Skip barking out another amused laugh before cutting out. Jackson was so unbelievably proud of her.
***
At exactly seven p.m. on the dot, Jackson rang Leila’s doorbell.
While he’d had every intention of taking her out to the best restaurant in the city to celebrate her epic interview, Leila had insisted over and over again that all she wanted was a quiet night at home to unwind. So he’d spent the last hour picking up all the movies he knew she’d been wanting to see, along with her favorite take-out from the Italian restaurant they’d yet to eat a bad meal from, and her favorite dessert from the bakery down the street from his apartment.
The door swung open a moment later, and the scent of strawberries and sunshine filled the air just before she hurled herself into his arms.
He loved when she did that.
And even though he’d come prepared with thick jeans—his standard survival attire for movie night at her place—the feel of her in his arms had an instant, noticeable effect on him.
Dammit, so much for wearing thick jeans.
Not that he let that detail keep him from hugging the hell out of her. After he dropped the movies and food off on the counter, he lifted her back into his arms for another hug. “Amazing interview, sunshine. They’ve been replaying it all day.” Brushing a kiss on her cheek, he chuckled. “They’re dubbing it ‘The Softer Side of Coach Skip.’ Classic. He’s been sending me scathing texts of blame all day long.”
Instead of joining in the laughter, however, Leila’s expression turned utterly serious. Concerned, he gently sat her down on a bar stool. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Is everything okay?”
She stared up at him in wonder for another long moment before saying softly, “I just…can’t believe you did that for me today.”
“What do you mean? You’re the one that saved the day during that crazy communication brown-out we had.” He smiled as he mentally replayed it all again. “You freaking knocked it out of the park, sunshine. Seriously. And I never had a doubt in my mind that you would.”
She began to say something, but then stopped.
Soon, emotions he couldn’t quite put a finger on were swirling over her features.
Sliding his hands into her hair, he asked again. “What’s wrong, sunshine? I thought you’d be happy.”
“Leila,” she supplied quietly, looked up at him with a riptide of emotions spinning away in her eyes as she requested softly, “Call me Leila.”
He hesitated.
He’d only come prepared to hide his hard-on all night, not his heart.
“Please.”
Gazing deep into those catlike eyes, he murmured, “Leila,” and instantly wrapped his arms around her waist when she shivered in response. He dropped his forehead down onto hers. “What’s going on in that busy brain of yours, sweetheart? What’re you thinking about?”
“The same thing I’ve been thinking about all day.” She leaned back and tangled her gaze with his. “You. I’ve been thinking about you. How no one’s ever believed in me the way you do. Not even me.”
“What are you talking about? You launch successful pick and lock prediction sites that become the most popular in the country. You turn your back on a life that wasn’t yours and made your own path. You spit out politicians for lunch. Why wouldn’t you believe in yourself?”
“Because the first, I did as L.J. Hart, and the other two were just me being the notoriously troublemaking daughter of a Utah congressman. But out there with a mic in hand as just me, just Leila Hart? I’ve never believed in her the way you do.”
“Honey, first of all, you’re not ‘just’ Leila Hart—you’re Leila freaking Hart. And second of all, I have every reason to believe in her. I’ve always believed in her, always will.”
Exhaling again slowly, she peered up at him. “You have it, you know.”
He blinked. “Have what, sweetheart?”
“My trust. All of it.”
A huge boulder-sized emotion filled his chest, sending his heart up to his throat. “Leila—”
Her breathing hitched. “God, I love it when you call me by my name.”
He did too. Holy shit, did he ever.
“Will you…” She broke off and looked down, a blush tinging her cheeks.
Brushing the back of his knuckles against the soft, heated skin, he asked, “Will I what, sunshine?”
“Will you spend the night? And…have breakfast tomorrow morning here with me?”
He felt the air punch out of his lungs as every male cell in his body immediately roared to the forefront, demanding he say yes.
But he didn’t. Shaking his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I don’t want us to have sex like this, Leila. Not after you finally trust me fully. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have one without the other.”
After he finished his impassioned speech, she simply nodded. “Good, because I wasn’t offering sex.”
Despite the hard-on that just grew another inch at hearing her sweet voice say the word sex, he chuckled at her ‘so-there’ response.
Then the seriousness was back in her expression when she asked, “When you and I first met, you told me that the only thing you can offer a woman is sex—do you still believe that?”
Dammit, he wanted to believe otherwise. More than he ever had in his life. But it was only a matter of time. The secrets of his life would catch up to him, and she’d end up getting hurt.
Christ, he’d never survive that.
With the heartwrenching thought of her getting hurt because of him shredding his insides into ribbons, he answered truthfully, “Yes. Yes, that’s still what I believe.”
“You’re wrong.”
Her tone was so fierce, nearly angry, he jerked back in surprise.
Pure fire was sparking in her eyes. And she was jabbing a tiny little index finger in his sternum as she repeated the two words. “You’re wrong. You, Jackson Gray, have so much more to offer a woman. If you weren’t such a stubborn ass, you’d realize it.”
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