Shay wasn’t surprised. Her daddy had always favored her sister. A weak smile never failed to touch his eyes when he gazed at Teryn. If he recognized Shay when he looked at her, he never let on.
“She was very curious about your new boyfriend.”
“You didn’t tell her anything, did you?” Shay had told her mama about her arrangement with Brody, leaving out the part about him blackmailing her, however. Her mama didn’t need to worry any more than she already was about securing the loan.
“No way,” Mama laughed. “It was nice to see the girl have her comeuppance, finally. Let her think you have a hot stud for a boyfriend. Meemaw allowed her to live in the limelight for too long. It’s your turn, now.”
Shay swallowed around the lump in her throat. Teryn may share their mama’s killer good looks, but Shay knew she and Mama shared a lot more, including a more realistic outlook on life.
“Thanks, Mama, but the relationship’s not real. I’m just doing a job.”
“Well, if that boy doesn’t see how much you have to offer, then he’s a dang fool.”
“I don’t think either of us should get our hopes up,” she said as she fingered the sex toy catalog she’d picked up at a store near campus. Just reading the descriptions of some of the “toys” in the catalog made her sweaty. And agitated. No wonder Brody said he would be embarrassed to have the glossy pages in his locker. He’d claimed he didn’t need any of these things to make a woman happy. Shay quivered just thinking what exactly Brody could do to make her happy.
“You okay there, Shay?” Her mama’s question pulled Shay out of the sensual fantasy with a start. She shoved the catalog into the folder with her paperwork accepting the job at the prison so she wouldn’t have to look at either.
“I’m here, just woolgathering. You get some sleep, Mama. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“G’night, Shay. Don’t stay up too late studying, ya hear? Love you, baby girl.”
“Love you too, Mama.”
Shay disconnected and stared at her cell phone. As it had for nearly a week now, her mind wandered to the subject of phone sex. What exactly constituted phone sex? Brody had been emphatic that there would be no phone sex between them, so she wasn’t likely to find out. Trouble was, Shay suddenly wanted to know a whole lot more about it.
• • •
Brody’s father eyed him carefully over a plate of chicken wings. “You’re looking a little pale there, Brody. You okay?”
No, he wasn’t okay. It had been unusually warm on the field for late September, and the heat had drained him. His blood sugar tanked at halftime, but Shannon had anticipated the weather, leaving him extra oranges and a protein shake in the training room. The woman was a veritable Mary Poppins. A very sexy Mary Poppins.
“Just a little dehydrated, Dad.” Brody took a pull of his water, making sure to avoid his dad’s clinical gaze. “I didn’t take enough fluid during the game.”
“You wouldn’t have known by the way you played today, Brody. Twelve receptions with two of them for touchdowns. My fantasy football team might have a chance this week with that performance.” His brother-in-law, Mark, saluted him with his bottle of beer.
“I can’t believe Garrett had to miss the game,” Skip, his sister Gwen’s husband, said. “I still don’t get why the poor schmo had to be there for the shower.”
Brody, his father, and his two brothers-in-law were having dinner on the patio of a local bar after the Blaze had soundly defeated the New York Jets a few hours earlier. The males of the Janik family jumped at the excuse of a football game to escape Boston in order to avoid his sister’s bridal shower.
“It ought to be a crime to make a guy go to his fiancée’s shower,” Skip said.
“Speaking of fiancées, Rob Henshaw and his girlfriend set a date for their wedding. It’s next spring some time.” His father was obviously on a mission of some kind because he’d sooner know when Robbie was getting married as he’d know his wife’s shoe size. “First Tricia and then Robbie. Your mother and Joyce Henshaw will be looking for another wedding to plan.”
“Jeez, Dad, I hope you’re more subtle when you’re giving your patients a root canal.” Brody chewed on a chicken wing.
His father had the grace to laugh. “Okay, I promised your mother I’d mention it. You boys are my witnesses.” He glanced at Skip and Mark. “Sybil will just have to wait a few more years for another wedding.”
“Mom does know she still has another unmarried child, right? Even better, Bridgett is a girl. Mom would have free rein to plan the entire thing.”
Mark coughed to cover his laugh while Skip openly snickered. Brody’s father sighed heavily. “It’s going to take a special man to put up with your sister.”
“What your dad is trying to say as kindly as only a father can is that Bridgett is a ball buster. She’s brilliant and gorgeous and sometimes that isn’t the best combination in a woman, if you know what I mean,” Skip said.
Brody waited for his dad to argue with Skip, to defend Bridgett, but his father just shrugged as he reached for another chicken wing. Was this how Shannon’s family felt about her? In Brody’s opinion, his sister wasn’t any prettier than Shannon. Bridgett just had a bit more fashion sense and a lot more disposable income. Both women were uncannily bright—Bridgett graduated fourth in her class from Harvard Law—and determined to be successful. And stubborn. He recalled a time when his sister refused to dissect a frog in biology, claiming it was inhumane. Brody had been the only one in a family full of dentists to side with Bridgett back then. He smiled at the memory, thinking that Shannon would easily relate with the same mulish determination.
“Anything else Mom needs to know?” Brody asked.
The trio of men went silent for a moment. He let his gaze circle the table from his brothers-in-law to his dad.
“Well, your mother is a little upset that you’re not bringing your new girlfriend to Tricia’s wedding,” his dad said sheepishly.
Brody tossed his finished chicken wing into the bone bowl. “It’s a little early in the relationship for that. Everyone knows you don’t bring a woman to a family wedding unless it’s serious.”
“So this is just a casual thing then?” Obviously, his father was given strict instructions from the coven of Janik women to somehow quantify his relationship with Shannon. Brody declined to comment, crunching on a celery stick instead.
“Those are the best kind,” Skip said. “Especially when she’s pulling double duty as his own personal chef.”
Brody made a mental note to speak with Gwen about how much of his private life she shared with the rest of the family. He also didn’t like the way Skip trivialized his relationship with Shannon.
Disappointment flickered in his dad’s eyes. “You’re not using that girl, are you Brody?”
Mark chimed in before Brody could answer. “Dan, it’s what they call a mutually beneficial relationship.” He grinned and it was all Brody could do to keep his dinner down as his brother-in-law added: “I’m sure the woman is very happy to oblige.”
His dad slumped back in his chair, disheartened, and suddenly Brody was angry. Mark and Skip made him sound like a jerk celebrity jock who used women and Brody was getting tired of being portrayed as that guy. He was more than that. Problem was he just hadn’t figured out exactly what he was yet. He did know one thing: the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Shannon. Or let down his parents.
• • •
Shay was late. Nate had insisted she stay thirty minutes longer to help in the kitchen because the league brass was visiting the Blaze offices and, on the off chance they might want coffee from the commissary, he’d made her stick around while he headed off to practice. The team practiced most of Wednesday afternoon each week before breaking out into various classrooms to study film and review that week’s game plan. The sessions normally lasted well into the evening
.
But Shay was glad she’d been forced to hold down the fort. As she was rushing to her car to hightail it to her seniors water aerobics, she’d overheard Donovan Carter speaking with one of the league security people. The Blaze and several other teams were implementing tight restrictions on access to their locker rooms as a result of the blogger’s latest post. For their road trip this weekend, the Blaze would only be allowing players, coaches, trainers, and team officials in the locker room area. If she wanted to plant a morsel for the snitch, this would be the perfect time to do it in order to narrow down the suspects. Now all she needed to do was convince Brody to go along with her plan.
Stopping at Santoni’s after her swim class, she’d picked up the ingredients for stir-fry. She and Brody had been avoiding one another since the night in her apartment more than a week ago. Shay usually fixed his dinners and snacks at her place, leaving them in his fridge while he was at afternoon practice. So far, their arrangement was working well. But tonight, she needed to speak to him in person, to persuade him to plant something in his locker, and that meant cooking at his house.
Struggling with a bag of groceries and her book bag, Shay punched the code to Brody’s door. The sound of a whistling teakettle greeted her as she rounded the corner from the mudroom to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of an elegant woman standing in front of the stove as if she belonged there.
“Hello.” Flawless makeup and beautifully styled long blond hair made pinpointing the woman’s age difficult. If Shay were gambling on it, she’d guess late twenties, early thirties. The woman’s business suit was designer and it fit her petite frame to perfection. She’d shed her shoes somewhere else in the house, standing in Brody’s kitchen in her stocking feet as if it was her right.
The mystery woman was everything Shay wanted to be when she grew up. But as evidenced by her own chlorinated hair and her shabby sweats, she still had a long way to go.
“Um, hi,” Shay managed.
Brody had said something about his family visiting often. Could this be one of his sisters? He usually warned her when one of the Janiks was in town, though. Suddenly, Shay was hit with another uncomfortable realization: maybe this woman was a former girlfriend? Or worse, a current one.
“I’m Bridgett.” Mystery woman poured water into a mug she had no trouble locating.
“I’m Shannon. But everybody calls me Shay.” Neither woman offered up a handshake. She glanced at the bag of groceries in Shay’s hands.
“I’m Brody’s personal chef.” Shay thought before the woman made her out to be a vagrant, she best explain her presence in Brody’s kitchen.
The woman’s eyes were calculating as they studied her over the rim of her mug.
“But not his girlfriend?”
“No, um, I mean, yeah, I’m that, too.” Shay sounded horribly unconvincing. She knew Brody wanted to stick to the girlfriend ruse, but what if this woman was a jilted lover and had come to exact some sort of revenge? Suddenly she started to feel a little shaky.
The woman gave her a shrewd smile. “Interesting.”
Before Shay had time to calculate ways to defend herself, Brody’s voice came booming through the garage. “Bridgett!”
The soles of his sneakers squealed on the hardwood floor as he screeched to a halt in the doorway. Judging by the expression on his face, he didn’t expect to see either woman in his kitchen.
“Hey, Shannon.”
Shay gave him curt nod before turning to the counter to unpack the groceries.
“I thought you were flying out tonight,” he asked Bridgett.
“Fog in Boston.” Bridgett blew on her tea. “It’s supposed to clear in a few hours. I should get out by nine.”
Brody fisted his hands on his hips as he contemplated both women.
“So, you two have met.”
Shay nodded, not bothering to mention she only knew the woman’s name, but not who she was.
Bridgett perched herself on one of the barstools. “We’ve established that she’s your personal chef and maybe your girlfriend.”
Brody mumbled something. “Ignore my sister’s third degree, Shannon. She’s an overachieving lawyer who likes to harass people.”
Letting out a breath of relief that Bridgett was his sister, Shay began to slice up the vegetables for stir-fry.
Bridgett laughed. “I thought maybe we could grab some dinner, but I can see you’ve already got plans.”
“I bought enough for two,” Shay said before realizing her mistake.
Brody narrowed his eyes at her.
“Interesting,” Bridgett repeated. “You’re not eating with him?”
“Um, no, not tonight.” She looked anxiously at Brody for rescue, but he was no help. “I have a class to teach at the pool,” she lied.
Bridgett studied them both before deliberately placing her mug on the bar. “All right out with it. Tell me he’s at least paying you to cook for him, Shay?”
“Uhh . . .” Shay stammered.
“None of your business,” Brody growled at his sister.
“And please, don’t tell me the commodity he’s offering is sex, because, ick, he’s my little brother and the thought of that just disgusts me.” She shuddered. “What’s more, you’re not his usual type. I suspect there’s actually more than a bubble between your ears. So what’s he got on you?”
“Dammit, Bridgett, leave her alone! Keep your nose out of my business.”
Bridgett ignored her brother, peppering Shay instead. “My brother is Tom Sawyer incarnate. He can persuade people to do whatever he wants just by batting his eyelashes. But I know you’re not his girlfriend. So what are you doing in his kitchen cooking his meals? And what the heck do you need a personal chef for anyway, Brody? You never cared how nutritious your food was before. What gives?”
“She is too my girlfriend!”
Shay’s heart was beating out of her chest at the vehemence of Brody’s declaration. Heck, she almost believed him. But she knew he wanted to distract his sister from her other line of questioning: the one about his diet.
“No way, Brody. You’ve been in this kitchen five minutes and you’ve both been dancing around the room as if you’re afraid of being in the same space together. Furthermore, you call her Shannon when”—she did a passable imitation of Shay—“everyone calls her Shay. Isn’t that right, Shay?”
“Sorry, Nancy Grace, you’re not right this time.” Charging across the room at Shay, he pinned her against the fridge. “Play along,” he said before his mouth took hers in a savage kiss.
Shay had no time to react. Brody was kissing her so deeply it was almost if he wanted to lay claim to every part of her. Trapped between his hard hot body and the cool stainless steel of the refrigerator, her own body had no trouble playing along. Trailing her hands over his pecs, she swiped her tongue against his. He groaned deep in his throat as his arousal pressed against her lower belly. Shay’s own sensitive parts throbbed and she brought her hips closer to his. Her fingers were on his scalp now, a piece of her own wild hair catching in the stubble of his five o’clock shadow as their kiss became more urgent.
“Okay! That’s enough. You’re grossing me out here.” Bridgett’s voice permeated their passionate fog. “Please don’t make me spray you two down with the kitchen faucet hose.”
Brody broke the kiss, but he didn’t move away, which Shay was thankful for. She wasn’t sure she could stand if he released her. Touching his forehead to hers, they both took a moment to regulate their breathing. She couldn’t read his eyes—they were contemplating the floor at the moment—but she had a nice view of his full lips wearing a satisfied smile. His fingertips had found their way beneath her sweatshirt and they were drawing lazy circles on her skin just above her hips. Shay knew it was all an act but she couldn’t help dreaming of what might happen if his sister wasn’t standing five feet
away.
“You’ve only proved that the two of you are hot for each other like a pair of rabbits, but I’m not sticking around for any more evidence.”
Bridgett had apparently found her shoes because she was tapping across the floor toward the door.
“But Brody, my purpose for getting together tonight was to warn you about the litany of single women awaiting you at Tricia’s wedding.”
Brody groaned, moving his head off Shay’s to bang it on the refrigerator door. The move gave Shay’s lips access to his neck and she had to bite the inside of her check to keep from kissing him there. Or possibly licking him.
“There’s a list of at least eight eligible bachelorettes although I’ve warned them about keeping Megan Riley on it because she’s only seventeen and that would leave you vulnerable for all things statutory in nature. Consider yourself warned.” The garage door opened. “It was nice to meet you, Shay. Please don’t be a fool and lose your heart over this idiot.”
Eleven
Brody heard his sister slam out of the kitchen, but he couldn’t seem to take his hands off Shannon. Her breath was warm against his neck and he wanted nothing more than to seal his mouth over hers and finish what they’d both started. He didn’t even care if they made it to the bedroom; the kitchen floor would work just fine.
“She’s gone now.” Her raspy voice caressed his ear. She squirmed against him and Brody couldn’t keep the hiss from escaping as his hard-on got unbelievably harder.
He turned his head so his lips rested just beneath the shell of her ear, her pulse beating steadily against his mouth. “Hold still before you frickin’ kill me,” he groaned, breathing in the wildflower scent of her skin.
Risky Game Page 11
