by Cindi Madsen
The passion that flared to life in his eyes echoed through her, and suddenly she was worried she’d never survive the drive home without spontaneously combusting.
“My place it is,” he said, firing up the car.
This time, she didn’t complain about how fast he drove. Seconds after he’d parked, they’d climbed out of the car and resumed their kissing. During their private elevator ride up to his floor, they went from PDA to risqué. He ran his hands over her ass, her breasts, up her thighs, and under her skirt.
She was a panting, needy mess by the time they spilled into his penthouse.
Instead of peeling off her clothes, he took a step back, and an involuntary whimper came out.
“I’ll take care of you, babe, I promise. I just wanted to take a second to soak in the sight of you standing in my place, your lips red and swollen from my kisses.”
“Speaking of soaked…”
He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. His eyes drank her in from head to toe, heat licking every place they touched, and she couldn’t wait for his hands to do the same. “I also want to make you a promise. I’ll never doubt you again. Never treat you the way I did the night of Mitch and Stacy’s wedding.” His blue eyes implored hers. “I need you to know how sorry I am.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but he dragged his thumb across her lower lip, and her mind went hazy with desire.
“This life—our life if you stay with me—is going to be crazy busy. There will be a lot of traveling and stressful decisions, but it doesn’t scare me as long as I know you’ll be by my side every step of the way.”
“I will be,” she said, then she tipped onto her toes and lightly kissed his lips.
“I didn’t get to the rest of my promise.”
“Well, get to it already,” she teased, pinching his side.
He clucked his tongue at her. “Patience.”
“We’ve established I don’t have any of that.”
He grinned, his thumb swiping across her lip again. “I love that about you. Love everything about you. Which is why I promise that you’ll always come first. And if I’m not putting you first, you have my permission to smack some sense into me.”
“I’ve been doing that without your permission, so I think I can handle that.” She leaned closer and dragged her nose across his cheek. “I appreciate it, though.” She kissed the scruff she’d missed, enjoying the scrape against her sensitive skin.
“Now…” She skated her hands down his chest to the center of his stomach to the bulge in his pants.
A ragged groan ripped out of him as she squeezed over the fabric.
“Your groveling debt has been paid in full. Groping time is on.”
His low laugh echoed through her, and then his hands were on her ass. He hauled her against him so that her core lined up with his erection, and he ground against her as his mouth descended on hers.
He boosted her into his arms and walked them toward where she assumed his bedroom was.
Sure enough, a king-sized bed greeted them.
“Oh, before this goes any further,” she said, “I should probably get my laptop and update our love contract.” His face dropped, and she laughed. “Only kidding.”
He tossed her on the bed and crawled over her. “I’m going to make you pay for that.” He parted her lips with his tongue, sliding it inside her mouth and stroking her into a frenzy.
While they’d had a lot of great sex, this time was different. Deeper, more meaningful, their bodies so perfectly in sync. He whispered I love yous as he painted kisses across her skin and imprinted himself into every nook and cranny of her heart.
At one point, she’d cursed the day Lance Quaid had walked into her life and made such a mess. But as they lay in bed cuddling afterward, she realized that in a lot of ways, he’d put her back together.
Epilogue
If Charlotte didn’t stop chewing on her nails, she wouldn’t have any left. She wasn’t even a nail bitter, but apparently the first game of the season—which would be starting in about seven minutes—had turned her into one. The preseason games had gone…okay. The dynamic of the new and old players with the new coaching staff took a lot of adjustments, and they were getting there, but they’d still had a few things to work on.
This was the first game that counted, and she told herself that it wasn’t the end of the world if they lost.
She didn’t voice that opinion aloud, though, because for all of Lance’s replies about being “fine,” she’d never seen him so high-strung.
She walked over to where he was sitting in the owner’s box and put her hand on his shoulder. He started, almost as if she’d yanked him out of another world, and then lifted his hand to cover hers. “I’m fine,” he said.
“I know. Just like I’m fine. In that way that I’m gonna puke and my heart is alternating between pounding too fast and forgetting how to beat.”
He slid his fingers up to circle her wrist and tugged her around so she was sitting on his lap. There was a good chance cameras would flash on them, and the old her might’ve thought it too improper, but the current her needed to be in his arms and as close to him as possible.
The door swung open, and Maribelle and Chuck stepped inside.
“Charlotte!” Maribelle rushed toward her, and she stood and opened her arms for the hug coming her way. Lance’s mom clung on like she never meant to let go, and it warmed Charlotte from the inside out. Enough to chase a bit of her nervousness away. “I’m so, so happy to see you.”
“Right back at you,” Charlotte said. They’d talked on the phone here and there over the past several months, but they hadn’t seen each other since the wedding.
Charlotte hugged Chuck, and Maribelle turned to Lance and gave him a big squeeze before patting his cheek and telling him to relax.
He told her he was fine.
“Fine. Sure. Thank goodness you have Charlotte.” Maribelle took her hand. “You’ve got a real keeper here, and you nearly gave me a heart attack when I found out you’d lost her. I thought I was going to have to fly down and knock some sense into you.”
“That was months ago, Mom.”
“Still.” She put a hand over her heart. “Messing with your poor mother’s emotions like that.”
Charlotte smiled at him over his mom’s head, and he winked at her. “I promise that I fully realize what I have, and how lucky I am that she gave my sorry ass a second chance.”
“Language!” Maribelle said, which saved Charlotte from having to— They were in a professional environment after all.
Lance and his dad exchanged a quick bro hug and stifled their emotions together, and then they settled into their seats right in time for the coin toss.
Two minutes into the game, Gavin fumbled. Charlotte fought the urge to bury her head in Lance’s shoulder while Williams strung together an impressive amount of swear words that no one dared to reprimand him for. Not when they’d all been thinking a variety of the same thing.
“He’s getting there,” Charlotte said, squeezing Lance’s hand. “Everyone fumbles from time to time.” Now that she knew Gavin Frost better, not only did she think he was the best quarterback for their team, she genuinely liked him as a person. He was funny and hardworking and a total team player. But he’d instantly won her over when he’d shown up for his first official day as a Mustang with his best friend since childhood in tow, an adorable blonde named Julie. They explained that she worked as a pathologist in Phoenix now, but that every big step one of them made, the other person showed up for if at all possible, and becoming a Mustang was a huge step. The two of them kept up via phone and computer, and Charlotte made a mental note to see about getting Julie to a game. Maybe that’d help steady him, and she cursed herself for not thinking of it before.
It’s okay. He’ll make up for his mistake during our next possession.
Lance glanced toward the door, and it hit her that he’d been doing that a lot.
“Are you ex
pecting someone?” she asked.
He gave a noncommittal head wobble before scooting forward in his seat, his attention back on the game.
“That’s our boy, shutting them down,” Charlotte said as their first draft pick, Darius Fox, sacked the other team’s quarterback, forcing them to kick off.
The door opened, and Charlotte did a double take when her dad walked in. She slowly stood, blinking, thinking it might be a mirage. She felt Lance behind her. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “I’m here if you need me,” he whispered.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, and he walked over and hugged her. They’d met up a few times since she’d gotten back from her trip. He was doing well, working his construction job and going to meetings, but they still had some work to do on their relationship, and thanks to her crazy schedule, they hadn’t seen each other much.
She introduced him to Lance, who leaned around her to shake his hand.
“We chatted on the phone,” Lance said, “but it’s nice to meet you in person.”
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I thought it’d be nice to have our families at the game.” He lowered his lips to her ear. “He said he wasn’t sure he could come, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
That explained why he’d been extra cagey.
A strange, extremely proper air seized the box for a minute or two, but then they started cracking jokes and cheering and coaching the players who couldn’t hear them.
The game went back and forth. The other team would score, and the Mustangs would answer, but they never managed to take the lead.
“He’s going for it?” Lance asked when Coach Bryant sent the offense out for the fourth down.
There were still four minutes to go, but they needed a touchdown to win. It was a risky play. They needed three and a half yards for a first, and if they turned it over on the other team’s forty-yard line, they could—and most likely would—make a field goal that would put them far enough ahead that the Mustangs would need to score twice to have a shot at winning.
“We hired Sean because he takes risks,” she said, despite worrying it was too great of one. Usually she was a go-for-it kind of gal, but they needed to start winning games to get and keep fans in the seat—not to mention to have a shot at playoffs—and the pressure was so much stronger now that she’d tied her life to Lance’s.
Both the fan side and her professional side were internally screaming.
They erupted along with the crowd as Nitrofanov, the rookie running back the team had dubbed Nitro thanks to his explosive speed, broke through a gap she hadn’t even seen and ran the three and a half yards…
Plus another ten.
Hit the twenty-yard line…
The ten…
“He’s going to score.” Charlotte slapped a hand over her mouth, scared she’d jinxed it, but her dad grabbed her free hand and squeezed tight.
“He’s got it,” Dad said.
They jumped to their feet as Nitro crossed the goal line. They cheered and exchanged hugs, and she turned to Lance, who planted a heated kiss on her lips.
“That was all you,” he said.
She shook her head. “Um, that was you being ridiculous and making me choose someone with seconds to go. Plus, Williams was the one who snatched up our new fullback. I mean, did you see that block?” She spun and held up her hand to the GM. “Rockin’ the picks, Williams.”
He was a tad old-school and had definitely not known what to make of her, especially after the debacle in the war room on Draft Day, but he grinned and slapped her hand. “We make a good team.”
She bounced on the balls of her extra-tall heels, putting her trust in Lance, who’d undoubtedly catch her if she wobbled out of control.
Not a single butt was in a seat as the last couple minutes of the game ticked down.
The clock hit zero, and their losing streak was officially broken.
Charlotte and Lance exhaled twin breaths. She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, telling it that it was okay to relax now. “One down…”
There was a lot to go, but they had more hope than they’d had in a long time. Especially considering they’d just beat the team that’d been ranked fifth after last season.
When she turned to Lance, he was down on one knee. A black box was open, a big-ass diamond ring inside, winking against the lights.
“Holy shit,” she said, and he laughed.
“Isn’t swearing at a professional work event against section three of the handbook?”
She threw her hands over her mouth.
“My mom made it clear she’d disown me if I let you go again, and like I told her, I have no plans of ever doing that. I love you, Charlotte James. You challenge me and calm me and make me better, and I couldn’t ask for a better partner. As I’ve said before, you’re my Sam, and there’s no one else I’d rather go to Mordor with.”
He grinned extra wide, and while she was sure everyone else in the room was slightly confused, a thousand butterflies erupted inside of her. It was the most perfect, nerdy thing to say, especially with the juxtaposition of all the NFL regalia in the background. It was so perfectly them. “Of all the deals I’ve made this year, that one to take you to my brother’s wedding was by far the smartest, and the one I’ve gotten the best return on.”
“Kinda making me sound like a hooker again,” she said, and the people around them chuckled. “Probably shouldn’t have taken that left at Mordor.”
“Well, I didn’t have you to help edit this speech for me.” His blue eyes lifted to her face, the love shining in the depths enough to make her breath catch. “At one point, I didn’t think I had time in my life for love, but now that I’ve experienced how awesome love can be, I realized I don’t want to waste any more time not being married to you. What do you say? Wanna strike another bargain involving a wedding? This time it’ll be ours.”
She laughed. “Don’t you need me to run some stats first? On you, on me. On you plus me.”
“Go with your gut.”
“My gut says you have a deal.” She smiled down at him and added, “Of course I’ll marry you, Lance Quaid. Even though I’m not sure you technically asked.”
“Oh, I asked, and you already said yes, so no taking it back now.” He slid the ring on her finger. He stood and planted a kiss on her that would’ve knocked her on her butt if he hadn’t also wrapped his arm around her waist, and judging from the feedback in the room, she was pretty sure their proposal had just been telecast wide.
Good. Now everyone will know that he’s all mine.
“Is it too hasty to request they hurry and strike your name from that eligible bachelor list?” she asked against his lips. “Like right now?”
“I’ll have my people call their people.”
“I’m your people.” Technically it’d probably go to PR, but she’d be the one who’d talk to them, so really it was just cutting out the middle man.
“You’re mine, that’s for sure.” He skimmed his hands down her sides. “I’m guessing this means we’re gonna have to fill out some more forms?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t tell me you’re some kind of uptight rule-follower.”
He laughed, low and deep, and his lips found that spot on her neck that drove her crazy. “Only for one woman.”
She grinned and kissed him again, letting herself fully fall into it. Then she pulled back so she could peer into the face of a man she was so in love with that it made it impossible not to believe in true love and the one and a whole mess of things she thought she’d never believe in again. Which made it all that much more fun to surprise him and say, “Well tonight, Mr. Quaid, I’m thinking a little rule breaking is in order.”
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Chapter One
The boat house came into view and Addie’s excitement level went from its already high seven to a solid ten. An emergency meeting had been called, and all of the guys were going to be in attendance. Every single one, including the guy she’d been dying to see for so long that she’d almost worried their sporadic phone calls, texts, and messages were the only way they’d ever communicate again.
Addie pulled up next to the sleek, compact car she’d have to make fun of later—right now it meant that Tucker Crawford was here in the flesh, and within a few minutes, the whole gang would be here as well. She wasn’t sure why Shep had called the meeting, but it took her back to high school when so many of their evenings and weekends were spent here at the Crawfords’ boathouse. Lazy afternoons and countless poker games. Nights spent celebrating team wins or commiserating over losses, whether it was the high school team that the guys had all played for, Crimson Tide football, or our NFL teams, on which they were a house divided—it’d led to some of Tucker and her most heated exchanges.
The scent of Cypress, swampy lake water, and moss hit her as she climbed out of the beater truck she often drove, and since she was hoping for a minute or two with Tucker before everyone else showed up, she rushed up the pathway, her rapid steps echoing against the wood once she hit the plank leading to the boat. “Tucker?”
“Addie?”
She heard his voice but didn’t see him. Then she rounded the front of the boat, where the chairs and grill were set up, and there he was. Even taller and wider than she remembered, his copper brown hair styled shorter than he wore it in high school, although the wave in it meant there were always a couple of strands that did their own thing, no matter how much gel he put in it.
A laugh escaped as she took a few long strides and launched herself at him, her arms going around his neck. “I’ll be damned, you actually made it this time.”
