In the Red Zone

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In the Red Zone Page 8

by Crista McHugh


  He looked behind him at the big empty room and equally empty king-sized bed. In the past, he would’ve headed straight for the clubs to pick up some fun for the night, but right now, there was only one woman he wanted to share his space with. “Would you like to come down and join me?”

  “Frank—”

  He heard the note of rejection in her voice, but he cut her off and plowed ahead, desperate to sell her on the idea. “I’ll even pay for a first-class ticket, Kiana. We could catch a few games, have some nice dinners, maybe even play in the amusement parks. And then, at the end of the day…”

  He purposely left it hanging to let her fill in the blank. He already knew what he’d do if he had her with him.

  Silence lingered on the line, and he offered a silent prayer that meant she was considering his offer. But when she spoke, he caught a hint of the conflict raging inside her. “It sounds wonderful—it really does—and I’d love to be able to join you, but I—” Her voice halted like she’d almost let something slip out and caught herself just in time. “I just can’t.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he stood up straighter. “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t.”

  “Give me a good reason why.” He’d either learn the truth, or he’d win her to his side. Until then, he wasn’t going to accept her answer.

  “Frank…” She said his name like an exasperated sigh. “Unlike you, I have a job I have to go every day.”

  “But it’s the weekend.”

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that I have plans and appointments and other things that I can’t brush aside.”

  He gritted his teeth, and the knots returned to his stomach. “What’s so important that you can’t get away for a few days?”

  Another pause filled the line, and he curled his fingers around the railing of the balcony.

  “Please, Frank, between the foundation and my family, my schedule is full.”

  “So you can’t make any time for me? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No, I didn’t say that,” she snapped, and for the first time in this conversation, he felt the tide turning in his direction. “What I’m saying is that I’m not the spontaneous type, so if you want to do something, I need to know in advance so I can make arrangements.”

  Her explanation still didn’t settle the suspicions forming in his mind. “Prove it.”

  “Why, you arrogant—”

  He cut her off again, this time with a low chuckle. Somehow, he’d managed to rile her up as much as she had him. “Forgive me if I want to spend time with you, especially after our meeting this morning.”

  A secretive giggle answered him, and he could almost picture her cheeks flushing like they had when they’d almost gotten caught. “Fine. When are you coming back to Atlanta?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe at the end of the week.” It was a dick move, but if she could play vague, so could he. Make her wonder what he was up to.

  He hoped it would spark some flame of jealousy or possessiveness, but instead, all he got was a cool, collected voice accompanied by a few clicks of a mouse. “Would Friday work for you?” she asked as though she were scheduling him for a dental appointment rather than a hot date.

  Damn the woman. She had him so turned around, he wasn’t sure which end was up. “Friday night would work, but only if it involved dinner. And dessert.”

  He said that last part in such a low, seductive way that there would be no doubt in her mind that she was what he planned on indulging in after the meal.

  Her breath hitched, and he silently laughed. Maybe she would be game for skipping dinner and going straight for dessert if he was lucky.

  A few more clicks followed, and that professional voice returned. “I have you tentatively penciled in for dinner on Friday night at seven.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus! Would he have to schedule sex with her, too? This was why he hated phone calls with women. It was always much easier to convince them to go along with his plans when he could exercise all his charms on them in person. But he wanted her so badly, he’d play along. “You sure you can’t come down here sooner?”

  “Sorry, Frank, but—” She dropped her voice to a whisper and finished. “But I look forward to Friday night.”

  There was just enough sexiness in her reply to keep him from listening to the warning bells going off in the back of his mind. “I’ll make reservations for STK.”

  He’d wine her and dine her, just to prove to her he could be a gentleman. But after dinner, he made no promises.

  “Deal.” She hung up, giving him enough time to clear his mind and dissect the conversation.

  The back-and-forth bothered him, but at least he’d managed to convince her to go out with him again. One thing became undeniably clear, though, from the hushed tones and hesitations.

  She was hiding something from him.

  He paced the balcony while his mind raced with possibilities. Maybe she was with another man. Shit, maybe she was married and was just using him to help her foundation. For a second, he was tempted to call Tre and find out, but based on the existing tension surrounding the two siblings, he didn’t want to cause Kiana any more grief there.

  He needed answers, and there was only one person he could turn to for them.

  He dialed Adam’s number.

  “Please tell me you’re not in jail or the hospital,” his eldest brother answered as soon as he picked up.

  “Cut me some slack, Adam.”

  “This is you we’re talking about, Frank.” The sound of women’s voices filtered in over the line and grew more distant with each second, so different from the muffled, one-way conversation when Kiana answered. “Sorry, but Lia and I have Mom over for dinner. Now, what have you done, and how much is it going to cost me to bail you out?”

  Frank rolled his eyes and stepped back in the air-conditioned hotel room. He was already getting enough heat from his brother. He didn’t need the extra humidity. “It’s not like that at all. I’m down in Orlando, alone, in my hotel room, working on business.”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

  Easy laughter rolled up from the center of Frank’s chest. “What’s the matter, Adam? Not used to hearing that I’m behaving?”

  “Again, this is you we’re talking about. But there must be something up for you to call me, and I have a suspicion it might have something to do with why you’re alone on a Friday night.”

  “Bingo.” Frank sat down at the desk and fired up his laptop. “I’m trying to figure out Kiana.”

  He did a Google search for her name and was surprised to find the picture of them at the Hawks game near the top of the list. The memory of that kiss sent the blood rushing from his head to his dick, and he slammed the laptop shut before it robbed him of all common sense. “I have a feeling she’s withholding some important information from me.”

  “Such as?”

  “That’s what I want to find out.” He jumped up from the desk and raked his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “I know she was mixed up with that asshole I sent to the hospital, and from what I can gather, he hit her when they were together, but my gut tells me that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “All women have secrets,” his brother said in a calm, matter-of-fact way.

  “I know, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s got more than most women.”

  “And your reason for unearthing them would be…?”

  Frank sank down on the edge of the bed and wished his stomach would stop churning. “I like her. A lot, actually. But I want to know what I’m getting myself into before I get in too deep, if you know what I mean, but I have no idea how to broach the subject.”

  “Hmmm…” A keyboard clicked on the other side of the line, and Adam said, “Looks like you have no problem locking lips with her in public.”

  He must’ve found the picture from the basketball game, too.

  “Do you blame me?”

  “I’
m a married man, so I plead the Fifth.”

  Frank grinned. “Worried Lia might give you a hard time if you admit Kiana’s hot?”

  “Not when the woman in question obviously has a thing for my brother. Besides, I told you I like petite Italian women.”

  A feminine laugh came from the distance, and Frank could almost imagine his sister-in-law listening in on the conversation.

  “But I’ll contact Cully in the morning and see if I can get some answers for you,” Adam continued.

  “I don’t think we need to go to that extreme. I just wanted some tips on how to bring it up without getting my face slapped.”

  “Just be honest, but not confrontational. If she sees you as a threat, she’ll raise her defenses. I hope that helps. In the meantime, I think Mom wants to talk to you.”

  Frank groaned. He already had enough on his mind without his mother prying into his personal life. He hoped Adam had enough sense to hide the picture of him and Kiana at the game, but luck wasn’t on his side tonight.

  “Who’s that lovely young woman you’re seeing, Frank?” Mom asked, her voice full of matchmaking hope.

  “One date, Mom. It was just one date.”

  “But she’s stunning. And you two make such a handsome couple.”

  I need to smack Adam on the back of the head next time I see him. He bet Mom was already planning his wedding.

  “Her name’s Kiana,” he answered, giving his mom as little information as possible.

  “And what does she do?”

  “She manages a charity foundation.”

  “Oh, like Becca?”

  Frank bit back a bitter laugh. Ethan’s girlfriend ran a foundation, too, but it was entirely different from what Kiana dealt with on a daily basis. Becca had it easy. She had her family’s fortune at her disposal. Kiana was out in the trenches trying to raise money to help the kids who benefitted from her hard work. “Not exactly.”

  “Still, that’s a much better occupation than some of the other women you’ve dated.”

  Frank silently cursed. Had his mother been spying on him? “Yes, Mom. She’s a nice young woman from a respectable family here in Atlanta.”

  “You’ve met her family?” He could almost hear her asking why she hadn’t met Kiana yet.

  “I’m friends with her brother. And it was just one date.” This conversation was growing more awkward by the minute. He was going to kill Adam.

  “Well, it looks like you two hit it off.”

  Frank flopped back on the bed and flung his arm over his eyes. His face burned. “It was for the Kiss Cam, Mom.”

  “Isn’t that the excuse Ben gave for the night he met Hailey?”

  What his mom meant to ask was if his evening ended the same way his brother’s had. “Mom, I did not take her back to my place.”

  Of course, if he’d had his way, his evening would’ve gone exactly like Ben’s had, ending with some unforgettable sex. The only difference would be that he’d make sure to wear two condoms. He was way too young to be saddled with a kid.

  “Oh, really?” His mother actually sounded disappointed. The woman wanted grandkids so badly, she didn’t care how she got them. She’d made a huge fuss over Jenny’s baby, and it wasn’t even Dan’s. He only hoped it would ease up once his brothers gave her what she wanted.

  “Mom, can we please stop talking about my personal life?”

  “Very well,” she said with a heavy dose of resignation. “Have you been staying out of trouble?”

  “Yes, Mom, I’ve been a good boy. I’m even down in Orlando for some charity work.”

  “And would this charity be in any way related to Kiana?”

  His mother was too smart for her own good. “Yes, Mom.”

  “You’ll have to tell me more about it.”

  “Maybe later. It’s late, and I have some early meetings in the morning,” he lied, using the excuse Kiana had given him the night of the game.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Frank?”

  He wanted to tell his mother about the odd ache in his gut and the way his breath quickened whenever he was around Kiana, but it felt too personal, especially when he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it himself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  “I’m just not used to you acting so…um, responsible.”

  Everyone was a comedian, especially when it came to picking on him. “Would you prefer I revert to my old ways?”

  “No, no, no. I’m just very proud of you, dear, that’s all. You’re finally growing up into the fine young man I always knew you’d be.”

  “As opposed to the screw-up I was before?”

  “I’d never say a three-time Pro-Bowler was a screw-up, dear.”

  His lips twitched into a half-smile. Mom always knew how to make him feel better. “Just trying to make you proud.”

  “You always have. And I hope to hear more about this young lady you’re seeing. Maybe I can plan a little trip down to Atlanta in a few weeks. I’ll even bring Jasper with me.”

  “Hold on a minute, Mom. Let’s take things one step at a time. I need to make it to a second date first.” And he definitely didn’t need his mother’s big, slobbering dog shedding all over his place if he wanted to have a chance of convincing Kiana to stay the night.

  “But he’s such an excellent judge of character.”

  “Chill, Mom.” Frank rubbed his chin, though, as he thought about it. Maybe the Jasper test would be faster than waiting to get the truth from her.

  “Yes, dear. In the meantime, you get some rest, and don’t forget to give me a call every now and then.”

  Ugh! The guilt. He’d forgotten how good his mother was at dishing it out. “Yes, Mom.”

  He hung up before his family found something else to tease him about and stretched out on the bed. Life would’ve been so much easier if Kiana had just accepted his invitation. Instead, he was left hanging in the balance and unsure of what he needed to do next.

  ***

  Kiana hung up the phone after accepting Frank’s dinner invitation and fanned her flushed face. She’d just started getting Savannah ready for bed when he’d called, and she’d been so scared her daughter would start wailing in the background. But her fears were unfounded, as Savannah had remained perfectly silent after she’d slipped out of the nursery.

  Maybe it was time to tell him about her daughter. Before she got in over her head. Denise had said to listen to her heart and her gut, but it was her raging hormones that were driving her decisions right now. And all her hormones told her to get at least one night of pleasure from Frank before dropping the bomb on him.

  She typed out a quick text message to Madison, asking if she would mind staying a little later on Friday. If her nanny couldn’t, she’d turn to Sherita or Denise for baby-sitting duty. Luckily, though, Madison replied in less than a minute that she could.

  One hurdle down. Now, picking out something nice to wear.

  She peeked into the nursery and found Savannah playing in her crib. As soon as her daughter saw her, she stood up, arms extended, and said, “Mama.”

  Kiana’s heart melted the same way it did every time she saw her little girl. The precious child had helped her make hard decisions in the past, so there was no question where she stood on the list of Kiana’s priorities. No man was worth risking her daughter’s safety and well-being.

  As she picked Savannah up and carried her to her bedroom, she wondered where Frank would fit into their family. He’d already proven that he had a white knight complex when he’d come to her rescue that night in the club, and he’d shown more restraint than any other man she’d dated.

  But Tre’s words still haunted her. Frank seemed to lack a serious bone in his body, and yet he’d shown more than his fair share of responsibility for his part in the fundraiser. How would he react if she told him about Savannah?

  She rubbed her hand over her daughter’s soft curls and asked, “So what should Mommy wear to dinner?”

  Savannah blew her a droo
l-covered raspberry.

  Kiana grinned and set the toddler down at her favorite place in the closet—the shoe rack—and typed out one more quick text message.

  Looking forward to dinner next week.

  A minute later, Frank replied back, Me too, lovely lady.

  Her heart melted again, but this time, for an entirely different reason.

  Savannah had already grabbed a stiletto and was trying to slip her tiny foot into it when Kiana looked down. “Starting the addiction early, I see,” she teased the toddler.

  Then she made her way down the row of dresses hanging in the closet. “So, Savannah, should Mommy go for naughty or nice?”

  Savannah replied by grabbing a sparkling silver strappy sandal with six-inch heels and offering it up to her.

  Kiana took it as a sign. “Naughty it is, then.”

  Chapter Nine

  Frank Kelly sat alone in a booth at one of the best steakhouses in Atlanta on Friday night and stared at his phone.

  7:25 PM.

  And no sign of Kiana.

  He’d only touched base with her once since he’d called last week because he was afraid he might let it slip that he was having her investigated. But in that brief conversation, no matter how many times he’d offered to pick her up, she’d insisted on meeting him at the restaurant.

  Which, of course, set off his spidey sense once again that she was hiding something from him.

  And now she was standing him up.

  He tried calling her for the third time that evening, but like the other times before, it went straight to voice mail. Any other guy would’ve read that as a loud and clear sign she wasn’t interested, but when he clicked on her info, he saw the text message she’d sent him when he was in Orlando.

  Looking forward to dinner next week.

  He turned off his phone and flagged the server for his check. It was only for a drink, but there was no reason to tie up the table any longer. He left a generous tip as an apology and went to the one place he stood any chance of getting answers.

  Her office.

  ***

  Kiana was on hold.

  Again.

  She tapped her foot on the floor and raked her fingers through her hair while she listened to bland music on the other end of the line. She’d been on the phone all afternoon after learning they’d sold more tickets for the gala than they’d planned. That meant getting a bigger space. And bringing in more liquor. And now, trying to get an estimate from the caterer on the food. And they all put her on hold when she asked for a number.

 

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