“No,” he said. “Eating healthy is good for you. Stay strong.”
“It’s the holidays! When else can you eat junk and blame it on festive cheer?” I demanded, walking toward him.
“All the more reason to eat healthy,” he said logically. I couldn’t say I was very interested in logic at this point. I was craving junk.
“Just hand over the junk food and no one gets hurt,” I growled, attempting menacing, but afraid I was coming off as cute puppy instead. He was shaking his head, but I saw his eyes cut to the door to the garage. Aha! Hadn’t I seen a fridge out there when we came in?
I darted for the door, but damn that man could move. He stood in front of it before I got there, blocking my way. I attempted to dodge past him, but he grabbed my waist, holding me back. I will admit to the tingle that ran through me, at feeling his big warm hands on my waist. Those were hands that could cradle a football or a baby with equal ease. I erased that thought. I couldn’t be distracted from my goal. Junk food was behind that door.
I growled, and this time it must have actually sounded menacing, because I saw his head rear back slightly. “Is there chocolate in there?” I asked, determined.
He answered, “No,” but I saw his eyes flicker to the side, a classic sign of lying. Now I knew I was going in there, and no way was he stopping me. I only had one thing going for me, and that was surprise. I had to throw him off balance long enough to get through the door.
Colt
Chapter Three
I didn’t anticipate spending my evening defending my junk food stash, but that’s exactly how it was turning out. My fingers flexed on her waist, and it occurred to me that I could probably span it with my hands. I shook the thought when she growled, causing the hair on the back of my neck rise. I was going to need to be on my game.
I saw the calculating look in her eyes. I was twice her size. There was no way she was getting past me physically. I wasn’t underestimating her, though. I’d seen guys bigger than me brought down by cunning.
We were at a stalemate, eyes locked, neither giving in, when I saw her eyes flicker. Before I could react to the small smile I saw cross her lips, those lips were pressed into mine.
I’d like to say I wasn’t distracted by a gorgeous woman kissing me, even if her only intention was to get past me to my junk. But that would be a lie.
My hands slid up her back, as I pulled her tighter into my arms. I deepened the kiss; surprised by the heat I felt flashing over my skin. I slipped my tongue past her lips, the wet heat of her mouth intoxicating me. My hand brushed the silky ends of her dark hair, and I shifted my hand higher, wanting to tangle it in those dark strands. She moaned against my mouth, as her body shifted into mine, setting me off balance. I stumbled slightly against the door at my back, and suddenly I was falling.
I tightened my grip on her body, in an attempt to protect her, but it was still a jolt when we hit the garage floor. All of the air in my lungs left in a sudden rush at the impact. I couldn’t help lying there stunned, as she wiggled on top of me, trying to sit up. I looked up at her straddling me, her eyes wide and her mouth forming a perfect O. I closed my eyes against the sight.
“That wasn’t quite how I anticipated that turning out,” I heard her say, her voice even huskier and causing me to shift uncomfortably, because I knew why it was huskier.
“Really? Lit a match, but didn’t anticipate an explosion?” I said dryly. I’d taken worse hits on the field, but this might be the most embarrassing, as she hopped off me and headed straight for the fridge in the corner. I shook my head. I should have known I couldn’t keep her out.
“What the hell? You were keeping frozen pizza from me?” I heard her yell before gasping. “And peppermint patties? What kind of sadist are you?”
“One that doesn’t like to share his junk food!” I told her, irritably. “That stash has got to last me. I have no plans of leaving this mountain till the New Year. Now, I have to share with a junkaholic.”
“So you thought you could be snowed in with me for multiple days and no chocolate?” she hissed, her eyes narrowing. I have to admit; I’d faced two hundred fifty pound linebackers that were less scary than her at that moment.
“I hadn’t really thought it through,” I said placating, hands raised non-threateningly.
“Obviously,” she said, turning back to the fridge, while simultaneously shoving a peppermint patty in her mouth. I really wanted to tell her not to eat all my peppermint patties, but I didn’t have the courage. She pulled a bottle of champagne out of the fridge, giving me a questioning look.
“It was a gift,” I replied. “I don’t really drink much. Empty calories.” She nodded and tucked it under her arm, while balancing the frozen pizza and bag of peppermint patties. “Let’s go heat this bad boy up,” she said, smiling, as she walked past me. I shook my head, biting my tongue, so I didn’t tell her I was already hot enough.
I followed her inside and watched, while she pulled the pizza out and heated up the oven. She then proceeded to pull the mushrooms off the pizza and pile them on one side. She caught my puzzled look.
“You may not like mushrooms, but I do. No point in wasting them on you,” she told me. “Get glasses for the champagne. We’re having it with our pizza, and don’t even say anything.” She waved her hand at the protests forming on my tongue.
I grabbed the glasses and plates before opening the bottle. I poured us each a glass and watched her take a sip. Her nose crinkled at the bubbles and the tart taste.
“I’ve never had champagne,” she admitted. “My family are wine and beer people. They didn’t even have champagne at their weddings.” I nodded in understanding.
“My family either. But they shove the stuff at you when you start playing pro ball. Everywhere you turn, it’s in a gift basket or served at some event they want you to attend,” I told her, emptying my glass before refilling both of ours.
“You don’t like talking about your family do you?” she asked me observantly. I seriously doubt it was the champagne hitting my system so soon, but I wasn’t as irritated by her question as I would have been earlier.
“Nope, long story,” I finally said, moving away from her into the living room. She looked toward the window where the snow was still swirling down, blanketing us into our own private world.
“We’ve got time. If you decide to tell me,” she replied quietly. I heard her, but didn’t respond. I hadn’t talked about that day to anyone. I didn’t feel like dredging up the old memories, or the pain that accompanies them. Something told me she wouldn’t give up though.
Sophie decided she wanted to have a picnic, so I grabbed a blanket off the couch and threw it in front of the fireplace. We settled down with our food and the bottle of champagne. She told me stories of her students and the first semester she started teaching. She had only been teaching a couple of years and told me most of her students were her age or older at the college. She admitted they didn’t take her seriously and how she didn’t either in the beginning.
“I guess I thought I was playing school. It took me till the end of that first semester to realize this was my life, and I needed to do a job that I could respect,” she admitted. “Over the winter break, I read everything I could get my hands on about different teaching techniques. I came back and the spring semester was rough, but I succeeded.”
“What about football? It has to be different playing pro,” she asked me, her fingers playing with the fringe on the blanket.
“It is. Completely different and exactly the same,” I said, smiling at her confusion. “The game is the same, no matter where you play. It’s always about the game. But the team, that’s a different thing. High school to college, there’s a difference. College to pro feels like a different world,” I said, with a soft laugh.
“My first day at training camp surrounded by seasoned pros would always be etched in my memory. I’d never felt more inadequate, or like I was right where I belonged. I’d never given up at any point
in my fight to get to the pros. That day was the culmination of years of work and the fulfillment of multiple people’s dreams.”
She stopped me at that point, “Multiple people?”
I sighed, as I told her, “My family. Everything they did was to get me to that moment. And the truth is I hated them for it. Until that moment. Standing on that field, knowing I was right where I belonged, I finally understood the choices they’d made.” I rubbed my chest in an effort to ease the tightness. She didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue. “I’d forgiven them along the way, but I couldn’t understand why. It took achieving the dream to realize that maybe they understood me better than I understood me.” I paused, finally admitting a truth I’d been denying. “That they made their own sacrifices, so I could live my dream.”
I felt a burning behind my eyes, but there was no way in hell I was letting this woman see me cry. I stood up and flipped the switch to turn the flames off. “I’m going to bed,” I said shortly, walking to my bedroom.
Sophie
Chapter Four
I picked up the picnic slowly, pondering the conversation we’d had. I still didn’t know what had happened with his family, but it seemed to me like a wound that hadn’t fully healed. I folded the blanket and placed it on the couch, turning lights off as I went to bed. When I looked at the clock, I saw it was almost midnight. We’d been talking for hours, and the time had flown by.
Once I got to my room, I headed to the bathroom. I’d noticed the giant jetted tub earlier, and I wasn’t squandering the opportunity to use it. My family wasn’t poor, but we also didn’t have the type of luxury this house offered. I sank into the bubbles, feeling the jets against my body, as I pondered my odd day. This morning, I was headed to the cabin, dreading another holiday with my family, where I felt inadequate, and now I was soaking in a luxury tub.
I found myself captivated by Colt’s story. It wasn’t simply that he was gorgeous, but also my need to know why he was so closed off. It was like he had broken pieces rattling around inside of him that I felt the need to fit back together.
I shut my thoughts down, as soon as I realized what I was thinking. I would not be the one to fix him. I had my own life to think of. I hadn’t figured out what I wanted from my life, and there was no place for a famous football player. Our lives were utterly different, and there was no middle ground. It was a temporary twist of fate that had brought us together.
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon. I must be dreaming. There was no way Mr. Health Freak had bacon in the fridge and I missed it. But I knew that smell. It was bacon. The scent lured me out of the incredibly comfortable bed. I walked into the kitchen, rumpled, because I didn’t even bother stopping in the bathroom to fix my hair. He gave me a quick once over, eyes lingering on my tank top, where I was clearly not wearing a bra, before skating to my bare feet.
“Done?” I asked, snarkily, moving around the bar, sniffing like a bloodhound on the hunt.
“I am and what a lovely view to wake up to,” he said, lifting a tangled strand of my hair. “Glad you stopped to comb your hair before breakfast.” I gave him a squinty glare, but was instantly distracted by the plate of bacon he had in his hand. I reached over and grabbed a piece, munching as he said, “I wondered which one would wake you. The smell of coffee or bacon.”
I raised my eyebrows at him, since my mouth was clearly full of bacon at the moment.
“Good to know you’re a bacon girl,” he said, smiling. I swallowed and said, “I don’t like coffee.”
“Interesting. Also good to know. Something I won’t have to share,” he said with a lopsided grin. My eyes narrowed at this new Colt. He was charming and therefore dangerous. That grin should come with a warning label. I looked around to distract myself from it, and my eyes land on waffles. I blinked rapidly, because it must be a mirage.
“Bacon and waffles?” I said, stunned. I looked at him, “What did you do with Colt? Are you the evil twin? No, you’d be the good twin. What did you do with evil Colt?” A laugh rumbled out of him, as he replied, “Someone told me it was the holidays, and the best excuse they knew of to forget diets.”
“That was a wise person. You should listen to everything she said,” I said, nodding sagely.
“Who said it was a she?” he bantered back.
“Clearly, with advice that good, it could only be a woman,” I stated, piling a plate with bacon and waffles. He nodded, acknowledging my truth, and piled his plate. We sat down, and I reached for the syrup, my hand hovering over it, as I saw what brand it was.
“Geez, you even went with real syrup and not some sugar free crap!” I exclaimed. He shook his head and said, “Hurry up.” I poured the syrup, making sure each hole was filled with it, as he looked on.
“So what are we doing today?” I asked, around a mouthful of waffle. “Card games? I could read a book. We could play twenty questions. Truth or dare.”
“I was thinking we could get in a workout,” Colt answered. I looked over at him, because he must be joking. But, nope, his face was completely serious.
“Only if you promise to do it shirtless,” I told him, with utmost sincerity.it was his turn to blink at me, shocked, but eventually he realized I was serious.
“That can be arranged. Will this be a mutual arrangement?” he asked, his look cocky.
“Nope,” I replied. “But I do have a sports bra and shorts buried somewhere in my luggage.” He choked slightly at those words, so I pounded my hand on his back. Or stroked my hand over his back … same difference.
He was serious about working out after breakfast, so I went to change into my workout gear and met him in the living room. I hadn’t found a workout room in my self-guided tour the day before, but that could have been due to my natural reluctance for any type of exercise. He led me through the garage and past the fridge full of junk, pulling me really, as I tried to grab the handle of the fridge, and into a room on the other side. I couldn’t help but be awed when we entered it. He had more equipment than most gyms I’d seen. Well, I hadn’t actually been inside of a gym before, but I’d looked in a window or two, and his was much more impressive.
He kept his promise. After I got on the stationary bike, he took his shirt off. I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me when I saw his wide expanse of heavily muscled chest. I could write an ode to the definition of his biceps, the light dusting of dark hair on his chest. I wasn’t a virgin, but never had I been lucky enough to ogle a man as beautifully formed as this one.
He laughed at my blatant staring, before settling onto a workbench. I spun away on the bike, as he grabbed and pulled on things, making his muscles flex. I had no idea what it was called, but I already loved the machine that made sweat pour off his body, turning it into a glistening canvas of muscle.
Finally, the screaming of my thigh muscles made me tear my eyes away from him. I stumbled off the bike, realizing I’d been pedaling on it for over an hour. I thought I’d discovered my incentive for working out. He got up from the machine he was at, rubbing a towel over his face and tossing me an extra one. I noticed a tattoo on his bicep. It looked like a name, so I wandered over to him for a closer look.
I saw the name Grace tattooed on his arm. For a second, I thought it was the girlfriend that did a number on him, but then I remembered, that was the granddaughter’s name. I’d assumed she was his niece, but why would he have his niece’s name tattooed on his arm when he hadn’t seen his family in years? Maybe it held another meaning and not a name.
“Why Grace?” I asked, motioning to the tattoo. He looked startled, then angry at my question. “None of your business,” he growled, before stomping from the room. Must be his niece, I thought to myself before following him out.
I caught up with him in the kitchen, his back turned to me, as he guzzled a bottle of water. I enjoyed the view of his workout pants clinging to his tight derriere, waiting for him to turn around and acknowledge me.
“Why do you always have to ask
questions? Do you ever think maybe things are personal and not meant for you to know?” he finally shouted, spinning around.
“Sure,” I told him. “But you have it tattooed on your arm. I figured it was a conversation point, and not some deep dark secret!” I exclaimed, aggravated myself at this point. I felt like I had to tiptoe around every topic of conversation, never knowing what would set him off.
“Look, you want to see mine?” I shouted at him, as I pulled the edge of my shirt up. There was a small set of wings tattooed over my ribcage, as close to my heart as I could get. “This is for my mom. She died when I was sixteen, and the last thing she told me was to fly, to never stop following my heart. So I tattooed wings by my heart, so I would never forget.” Tears were choking me as I finished, and his face was shattered.
I was done with him, as I walked toward my room, and then I heard his cracked voice say, “Sophie.” My steps slowed involuntarily at the pain I heard, forcing me to pause and look back at him. His hand was wrapped around the tattoo on his arm, almost as if he was protecting it.
“Grace is my daughter. I’ve seen her once, when she was a baby. And I haven’t seen her since, but that’s my fault.” I could tell the admission was costing him. His eyes were red, and he was breathing heavily. I nodded, feeling his pain as acutely as my own, before escaping to my bedroom.
Colt
Chapter Five
I knocked on her door a few hours later, since she hadn’t come out at lunch, and I was worried. After only a day, I knew she wasn’t the type to miss a meal. She didn’t respond to my knock, but I wasn’t going away. I kept knocking, and it was over five minutes before she finally ripped the door open with a wild eyed glare.
“WHAT?” she yelled at me. Her face was puffy and her eyes were red rimmed, but she was still beautiful. I was relieved when she opened the door. I’d rather face her angry than not at all. I was starting to figure out she wasn’t the type to run away from a fight, though. Maybe take a timeout, but never abandon the field.
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