The All-Star Antes Up (Wager of Hearts #2)

by Nancy Herkness

  He held out his hand. “Sit with me.”

  She put her hand in his and let him help her onto one of the plump cushions. When he settled beside her, she snuggled into his uninjured side. “I’m glad you’re here, so why shouldn’t you be?”

  The arm he had draped around her tightened. “Because my brother is an asshole.”

  “I’m not getting the connection.” She felt the tension in his body and rubbed her palm in circles on his chest to ease it, stroking the fine, soft cotton of his shirt.

  A sigh expanded his ribs. “When I got home from the gala, Trevor was throwing a party at my place. That was a jerk move, but I could have swallowed it. However, he broke the cardinal rule. There were drugs.”

  Miranda let all the implications of that circle through her brain. Now she knew why they’d had fast, hard door sex, and why he’d apologized for it. Luke was venting his anger at his brother. “So you needed to get out immediately and find someplace else to go.”

  “Yeah, where there was someone who would corroborate that I wasn’t at the party to take the drugs, in case the press gets wind of it. I have a good friend cleaning up Trevor’s mess, so I don’t think it will be an issue, but I shouldn’t have involved you.”

  He might be right, but Miranda felt a warm glow of pleasure that he’d chosen her as his refuge.

  Before she could say anything, he continued, his tone reflective. “I can’t remember the last time I did something I knew for a fact was wrong.”

  “You’re a highly principled person.”

  She felt him shake his head. “The temptation hasn’t been there. Until now.” He tipped her face up so their eyes met. “Do you know how damn good this feels?”

  “Really damn good,” she said.

  “I was cranky as a bear about going to that gala without you.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.

  Miranda felt it all the way to her toes.

  “There was a necklace there I wanted to buy you.”

  She held up her hand. “No more gifts.” Knowing he’d wanted to buy her something was enough of a thrill.

  “I haven’t given you anywhere near what you’ve given me. You broke me loose. I don’t know how—” He fell silent.

  “How what?”

  “How about a glass of that wine, after all?” he said.

  She could tell he wasn’t going to finish his sentence for her. “Red or white?”

  “Real men drink red wine.” His humor didn’t reach his eyes. They were shadowed by something she couldn’t read.

  Before she could get up, he rose to his feet. “I’ll give you a hand.”

  She led the way to her small kitchen. When Luke stepped in, the space seemed to shrink, so she could practically feel the air moving when he did.

  Pulling her best bottle of merlot out of the tiny built-in wine rack, she rummaged through a drawer for a corkscrew.

  “I’ll take care of that,” he said.

  As she put the wine and the corkscrew in his strong hands, she glanced up at him with a smile. “I was pretty grumpy about not being with you tonight, too.”

  It took him only a few seconds to extract the cork. “Good to know.” His answering smile flashed and was gone as he poured the garnet-colored liquid into the two balloon glasses she set out.

  “It’s not that I begrudged the charity your presence at their gala,” she said. “It’s that we have so little time left, I hate to give up even one day.”

  His glass halted in midair. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “You have to go back to football on Sunday. You don’t have, um, relationships during the season.” She’d read all about how Luke didn’t date during football season. She didn’t expect to be the exception.

  “So you know about that.” He finished lifting the glass to his lips and swallowed a slug of wine. “I didn’t start out with the intention of getting this involved.”

  That stung, even though she understood. He had gotten more involved than he expected, which was a backhanded compliment.

  “I didn’t, either,” she said with equal honesty. “Sometimes circumstances weave themselves together to create a moment out of time. And when someone walks into that moment, you can’t stop what happens. You just savor it for what it is . . . a strange, wonderful interlude.”

  “An interlude.” He stared down at the wine he swirled in his glass. “Is that what this is?”

  “What else could it be?” She’d expected him to be relieved that she knew the parameters of their relationship. So why didn’t he look pleased?

  He lifted his glass with a smile that didn’t come close to warming his eyes. “To interludes,” he said, touching the rim to hers. Then he tossed back the entire glass. “Strange and wonderful.”

  He refilled his glass and met her eyes. “Maybe it could be—” An electronic tone sounded from his inner jacket pocket. “Ah, hell!” he said, reaching inside his tux and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ron.”

  Miranda wanted to strangle Ron, even though he must be the friend cleaning up after Trevor. Luke had started to say something about their relationship. Some sort of possibility. Maybe it could be . . . what? A dangerous flicker of hope came to life in her heart.

  “Thanks, man. I’ll send over those tickets tomorrow.” Luke’s shoulders went rigid. “I’m going to make some things real clear to him.”

  He disconnected, and drained his wineglass to the bottom. “My friend Ron says the coast is clear. I guess that means I should go.”

  So he wasn’t going to finish their interrupted conversation.

  “Stay here as long as you like,” she said. She’d welcome any time she could steal with him.

  “I have to talk to Trevor.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression grim. “Hell if I know. I was pretty definite about the rules, but he either doesn’t listen or doesn’t care. Or both.”

  Miranda saw the hurt in Luke’s eyes. For all his confidence and success, his brother’s betrayal still wounded him. “It must be hard to be your brother,” she said. “Trevor knows that he’ll never be as successful as you are.”

  “He could be, in his own field,” Luke said. “He’s smart, really smart.”

  Miranda thought of Trevor’s free use of his brother’s apartment and the concierge services that went with it. “I get the feeling you’ve helped Trevor a few times along the way.”

  “Why wouldn’t I when I have the resources to do it?”

  “That might create resentment. He feels entitled to take what you offer because you have so much, but he sees himself as a failure compared to you. So he tries to pull you down.”

  He pinned her with those laser blue eyes. “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

  She met his gaze. “Tell him you love him. Explain how much power that gives him over you, even though you appear to be invulnerable. Hope he rises to the occasion.”

  “Trev and I aren’t big on that kind of talk.”

  “Maybe this is the time to try it. He wants your attention, so he might respond better than you think.” She touched his shoulder in comfort. “You can’t force other people to behave in a certain way. All you can do is be true to yourself and hope your brother can respond to that positively. If he can’t, maybe he shouldn’t be a significant part of your life.”

  She watched for his reaction, but he had on that impenetrable mask he wore on the football field.

  “Cut him off?” Luke asked.

  “That would be the most extreme outcome.” Miranda hoped she hadn’t started something that would damage Luke and Trevor’s relationship further.

  He stood with his head bowed as he appeared to consider her words. But when he lifted his gaze, his eyes blazed with a hunger that meant he was done with the topic of Trevor. “I don’t know why I’m wasting our time together talking about my brother.”

  He put her glass on the counter and interlaced his hands with hers, pulling
her in so he could slant his mouth over hers. She tugged one hand free and curled it around the back of his neck to bring him closer, putting all she felt into the kiss.

  He gave her back the same intensity in a long, temperature-raising embrace. When he lifted his head, Miranda wanted to shriek in frustration. His erection was hard against her, and she was liquid with need.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, his voice husky. “Spend the night with me.”

  “Yes,” she said, her yearning nearly at a point of pain. “Where?”

  His voice turned granite hard. “I’m pretty sure I’ll have my place to myself again.”

  “Remember that you love him.”

  “Sugar, that’s the only reason I told Ron to leave Trevor for me.” He turned her so that she was snugged up to his side. “Walk me to the door. I don’t want to let go yet.”

  That made her melt into him, even as she thought how glad she was not to be Trevor tonight. There was cold anger blazing in Luke’s eyes. She could feel it in the rigidity of his body.

  They reached her door, where he tightened his arm in a brief squeeze and released her. “No more kisses to tempt me,” he said.

  She laid her palm against his cheek. “Good luck with your brother.”

  He turned the doorknob. “I’ve always believed you make your own luck, but tonight I’ll take whatever you can send me.”

  And he was gone, closing the door firmly behind him. She jogged to the window and twitched back the curtain to watch him stride across the street to where his driver waited. As he started to fold his body into the backseat of the car, Luke looked back and raised his hand in farewell.

  So he’d caught her at the window. Unembarrassed, she waved in return before letting the curtain fall back into place.

  A cold, hard lump of panic clogged her throat. Only two more days.

  Luke sat back on the car’s leather seat and stretched out his legs. “Back to my place.”

  As the limo glided down the empty street, Luke folded his arms and let his chin sink onto his chest. Trevor should be his most pressing concern, but instead his mind turned to Miranda.

  That rule he had about not dating during football season? He had made it, so he could break it. Problem was, everyone knew about it. People would talk, and it would create expectations.

  He grimaced. And what about his thirty-six-year-old body? When he was around Miranda, he wanted to touch her. If he touched her, he wanted to make love to her. His body needed rest when he wasn’t training. Could he force himself to kiss her good night and go to his own empty bed to sleep?

  He muttered a curse.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Just talking to myself, Brian,” Luke said. “I guess that’s a sign of my age, too.”

  “Your age? You’re only as old as you feel, and the way you play, you must feel like a twenty-year-old.”

  Luke shook his head. “Age and treachery can fend off youth and talent for only so long.”

  Especially when the Super Bowl was on the line.

  Could he ask Miranda to give him time, to wait until the end of the season? He shifted on the seat as he considered how to phrase the request. Look, I’m interested in continuing our relationship, but not until the football season is over. Can we put whatever is between us on hold until then and try to pick up where we left off? It was only for a few months. She might be willing to do that.

  Unless she met someone else. He smacked a fist onto the seat beside him. He had no right to expect her not to see other men just because he was focused on moving a pigskin toward a goalpost.

  Maybe she was already dating someone else. She’d called their relationship an interlude. She might consider him just an extended one-night stand before she went back to her other boyfriend.

  He was about to pound the seat again but got a grip on himself. That wasn’t Miranda. If she were already in a relationship, she would have given Luke the tour on Tuesday and then told him—very politely—she wasn’t interested in anything more.

  That made his dilemma worse. If Miranda agreed to wait for him, she wouldn’t allow herself to start another relationship. Since Luke had no idea what their long-term prospects were, he didn’t feel right asking her to put her love life on hold.

  He slammed the seat cushion so hard he felt the blow vibrate up his arm.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you, Archer?” Luke muttered to himself. He stood in his own foyer with his head thrown back and his hands shoved in his pockets, curbing his anger to a manageable level. He didn’t want to go in and confront Trevor. He wanted to go back to Miranda and forget about his brother’s betrayal. He’d never before hesitated to do what needed to be done. But Miranda’s words echoed in his mind. Trevor was not a teammate or a coach. He was Luke’s brother, and Luke loved him. That complicated things.

  Taking a deep breath, Luke walked into the quiet, tidy living room. It was empty, but the sliding door to the terrace was open, letting in a draft of chill October air. As Luke passed the coffee table, he noticed that the glass top had been wiped to a sparkling clean. Ron was thorough.

  Luke stepped out onto the tiles of the terrace and slid the door closed behind him. Trevor sat slumped on one of the rattan sofas beside the glowing embers of the fire pit.

  “Go ahead. Rip me a new one,” Trevor said, not moving.

  Luke sat across from him. “You knew you were screwing with my career.”

  “Yeah, I suck.”

  Luke sat forward and laced his fingers together between his knees. “No, you have a lot going for you, Trev. Now get off your ass and use it.”

  “Says the legend-in-his-own-time billionaire quarterback.”

  Luke kept his expression neutral, but his anger surged. “I’m not here as some yardstick for you to measure up to. Live your own life. If you do that, I’m here for you.” He waited, hoping his brother would respond, but Trevor made no comment. “But when you betray my trust, I draw the line. It’s time for you to leave.”

  “I’ll remove my noxious presence in the morning.” Trevor’s words were slurred. He must have had a hell of a lot to drink.

  “Tonight. You tell my driver where you want him to take you. Once he drops you off, I’m done.”

  Trevor levered himself upright. “It’s the middle of the night. Where am I supposed to go?”

  “This is the city that never sleeps.” Luke gave it another shot. “Why, Trev?”

  “Because I heard from your alma mater today, and their answer was no.” Trevor glared at him. “I’m so crappy that not even your all-powerful influence at the University of Texas, where they worship the ground you walk on, could get me a job.”

  “I’m sorry, bro.” Luke had told the dean at UT he’d appreciate the search committee giving Trevor a good, long look, but not to hire him if the fit wasn’t right. Maybe he should have been more insistent.

  His brother sagged back again, his head angling upward so he was looking at the sky. When he spoke, his voice was low. “Sometimes I hate you.”

  Trevor’s words slammed into him like Rodney D’Olaway’s massive shoulder.

  “No, I hate how you make me feel,” Trevor said, correcting himself. “Like a loser.”

  Now pure rage boiled up in Luke, scalding hot. “So you want me to blow the season so you can feel better about yourself?” He huffed out a snort of derision. “Stop playing the victim.”

  “You should try being your brother. Ma and Dad are so in awe of you that they can’t believe you’re their son. I’m just the average kid they had to help with homework and college applications while you were off becoming a superstar.”

  “Ma and Dad think I’m a mistake, a jock in a family of brains.”

  Trevor shook his head. “You’re dead wrong. When I was fourteen, I overheard Ma talking to one of her friends. Ma said you would succeed at whatever you went after, whether it was a Super Bowl ring or getting elected president of the United States. The best thing she could do was to get out of the way.”


  Luke’s worldview tipped and spun. All those years of thinking his parents favored Trevor because he was more intellectual had been wrong. But his parents had been wrong, too. He’d needed them as much as Trevor had, in a different way. “You get your digs in about my lack of a PhD.”

  “It’s my one puny weapon in a losing battle.”

  Soul-deep weariness rolled through Luke. “It’s not a battle. We’re on the same side.”

  Trevor made a sound of disbelief. “You’re the most competitive human being I’ve ever met. You have to beat everyone.”

  That was like a pair of cleats stomping on his chest. “Have I ever done anything but help you?”

  “Why shouldn’t you? You won’t miss what you give to me.”

  “So I don’t give you enough?” Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  Trevor sat up, only to drop his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” He raised his gaze to Luke. “I’m out of here.”

  He pushed himself up from the sectional and stumbled to the sliding door, fumbling to get it open. Luke leaned back and scrubbed his palms over his face. Miranda would probably want him to let Trevor stay until morning, but Luke was too pissed off.

  And hurt. Yeah, it hurt to know his brother dismissed what Luke had done for him over the years. It hurt to hear that Trevor thought they were competitors. It even hurt to find out that his parents thought he hadn’t needed their help.

  Did they think he was made of stone? That they could pound on him, lean on him, take from him without inflicting any damage?

  No, they thought he was made of ice.

  Chapter 20

  Miranda couldn’t stop yawning, even though the morning had been hectic. After Luke had departed last night, she hadn’t been able to go back to sleep for another hour. Even when she did, she had vivid dreams that involved tuxedos, football helmets, and Luke wearing both or nothing at all.

  Today she felt a sense of frantic melancholy. He hadn’t contradicted her when she said their relationship was going to end the day he jogged back onto the practice field, so she was desperate to spend as much time with him as possible. Now here she was, waiting for the phone screen to light up with his caller ID.