Ball Buster

by Kara Sheridan

Bottled waters had been set up on the tables. He forced the cap off and took a deep drink, his gaze never leaving Sadie. Not ready for her to see him yet, he made sure to slump down in his chair.

  The room had grown disturbingly quiet, leaving Carson with only one thought: he wasn’t the only man wishing he could take Sadie home tonight. And that realization made him growl out loud with unspoken possessiveness. Though he lost any right to her, something primal and raw boiled below the surface from just one look at her. Carson didn’t know what to think about his feelings. Unresolved issues remained between them, but he had moved on—or at least he’d thought so.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” Sadie said. “My name is Sadie Reynolds. I’m a senior marketing and image consultant with Charles Longley Publicity.” She gazed around the room. “All of you were handpicked to work with me. I’m here to teach you how to engage with the public on a more professional level—to guide you through the process of fostering trust and admiration from your fans. We’re going to spend the next two months together. In case you don’t know what my job entails, I’ve put together a little presentation to demonstrate the kind of work I do. Could you dim the lights, Coach Rangall?”

  Carson wet his lips and sat up in his chair. Was Sadie indifferent to him? Or had she just not seen him yet? One look—just one…Carson begged silently, praying Sadie would meet his gaze before the lights went out.

  But she didn’t see him, not yet. Or she was avoiding his hungry eyes on purpose. As the big screen lit up, Sadie clicked the controller and a collage featuring team members appeared. Pictures from the nightclub in downtown Mobile they frequented after the games. Some of the guys were holding beers, others were holding women in various stages of undress.

  “When the average person in Alabama thinks about a player from the Warriors, this is what they describe the most. Partiers. Players. Bad boys. That’s not what we want, gentlemen.”

  She clicked the controller again. More pictures from around the city appeared. “Two hundred people from random locations in Mobile, Columbus, Montgomery, Birmingham, and Huntsville were surveyed recently. Eighty-six percent agreed that they had negative views on pro athletes. That football players were as corrupt as politicians.”

  “Shit,” someone commented.

  “Not shit,” Sadie shot back. “Simple truth. Congress has a better approval rating than the Alabama Warriors. Why, you ask?”

  The next slide nearly made Carson fall out of his chair—his exposed flesh filled the screen.

  Laughter exploded.

  Sadie cleared her throat. “Clothing isn’t optional, gentlemen, it’s mandatory. And if you think this is acceptable behavior, let me remind you of something. Many states would deem this an arrestable offense if you didn’t have permission to take this picture.” She turned to the screen, the light haloing her beautiful profile.

  Did she just smile? Was she ogling Carson’s ass shot? He leaned forward. There’s no way she didn’t recognize his body; he had that tattoo in high school. And if he remembered anything about Sadie, she had always loved his butt. Practically drooled on it whenever they got naked.

  She faced the crowd again. “Social media is a powerful tool. It can make or break your career. Can you think of a couple examples of people who paid the ultimate price for posting risqué photos of themselves?”

  She waited patiently for someone to answer, but no one did.

  “Okay,” she continued. “Does Brett Favre ring a bell? Anthony Weiner? Remember one thing: anything you post becomes part of the public record. You can delete all you want. It might disappear from your account, but trust me, it’s out there, forever.”

  More laughter followed.

  “I’m glad you all have senses of humor,” she said, “because it will take an equal balance of sincerity and good old-fashioned humor to admit you’ve made mistakes and need to start over, to rebrand yourself. I’m familiar with your personal data, gentlemen. All of you have very different profiles and backgrounds. This week, we’ll spend a little time one-on-one getting to know each other, discussing what we need to do to help reverse some of this negative publicity. Coach Rangall mentioned something about interest in community service. You can turn the lights up, Coach.”

  Once the lights were on again, Coach stood at the front of the room. “All right. I expect you all to do your best with Ms. Reynolds. I have meetings scheduled for the next three days. But I’m always available if you have any questions.” He excused himself, leaving Carson one man closer to being alone with the woman he’d always wanted.

  Even after she graduated high school and moved to New England for college, he never forgot her. How could he? That face. That body. That sass. All the memories they’d built together. Yeah, they lived separate lives now, but Sadie wasn’t the kind of woman any man could get over, not completely.

  “Mr. Savage?”

  Carson flinched. She’d finally acknowledged him. “Back here.”

  “Yes,” Sadie said, capturing his heart with her smoldering gaze. “You’re a co-captain of the team?”

  “Yes,” he said. “And the one called on the most when it comes to situations like this.”

  “I understand you’re the victim of the unfortunate photo I shared just now.”

  “Which one?” he whispered sardonically, not expecting her to hear him.

  “The back shot,” she said politely.

  God, he knew that face so well. Even after all this time he could tell when she was laughing on the inside, at his expense, of course. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s my ass.”

  “Yes,” she said again, a slight tremor in her voice. “How did it make you feel to find out your friend posted it without your permission?”

  He shrugged. “A little pissed. But I expect it.”

  “Oh?” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “How so?”

  “It’s part of the game,” he said. “Part of being a football player. If you want to join the brotherhood, you look the other way a lot. Learn to blow crap off.”

  Their gazes locked and her million-dollar smile faded, replaced by a sad expression. “Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Savage.”

  “Call me Carson,” he said, needing to hear her say his name.

  “I prefer Mr. Savage.”

  “No one calls me Mr. Savage, Ms. Reynolds.”

  She clicked her tongue, then raised her chin. “Here’s a learning moment, gentlemen. Part of the problem is we’ve lost that formality between each other. It’s been replaced by false familiarity with people we don’t really know. Manners mean something.” She gazed at Carson again. “So this is a good start. Using formality to address each other. Right, Mr. Savage?”

  “Sure,” he said. “If I didn’t know you. But I do, Sadie, and we’re the same age. Let’s try something else, because there’s no way I’m calling you Ms. Reynolds.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and Carson immediately regretted what he’d said in front of his teammates without thinking. Never let emotions get the best of you, on or off the field. But it was too late to take it back.

  “Will you join me in the hallway, Mr. Savage?” she asked.

  Similar to a high school classroom, his teammates taunted him as he made his way to the door, following Sadie. Dear God, her ass looked even better close up. He shut the door behind them and waited.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him, her green eyes full of brimstone and fire. “Just what are you trying to accomplish, Carson?”

  In the past, whenever Sadie got mad, he’d kiss her happy again. The temptation to do so now nearly overpowered his restraint. “Keeping it real.”

  “Real?” she asked. “What’s that supposed to mean? I think you’re trying to show off or undermine me.”

  “And why would I do that, Kitty Kat?”

  She went dead still at the sound of her old nickname. “Don’t you ever call me that again.” She poked him in the chest with one of her long, blood-red fingernails. “I don’t want anyon
e to know about our past. No one.”

  “Might be a little too late for that.”

  “Why?” She chewed on her bottom lip, making him think about things he shouldn’t.

  “A couple of the guys already know who you are.”

  “Everything?”

  “We’re friends, Sadie. They know I had a life back home.”

  “Did you know I was coming?”

  Carson shifted on his feet. “Of course not. Do you think this is how I wanted us to see each other again?”

  Sadie shook her head. “If you’re anything like me, you never expected to see me. There’s no reason for us to be in each other’s lives. Anything we had to say has been said a long time ago.”

  His shoulders stiffened at those words. Did she really dislike him that much? Had she forgotten everything they’d been through together? Or how she up and left without explanation, without even a goodbye? In his opinion they hadn’t said all that they needed to. But he tried to shake it off. “We’re obviously adults now, Sadie. Capable of working together.” But Carson had ulterior motives already. He never turned down a chance for a rematch, especially when someone had kicked his ass before. And Sadie had left him down and desperate. Getting her to go out with him would be a victory for him.

  She nodded. “Can I rely on you to help me get through today without any more resistance?”

  He leaned against the wall, his gaze drifting lazily up her body. “Sure thing, Kitty Kat, but it will cost you.”

  “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Nope.”

  “What do you want, Carson?”

  “Dinner. Tomorrow night.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Technically, she did, but if Carson guessed correctly, she needed his help with this whole social media rehab thing. He was more open to change than most of the men sitting in that classroom.

  “Not really,” he said. She clearly still possessed the same stubborn streak because that same adorable pout appeared. The one that usually made him give in to anything she wanted. But not this time. He had one chance to get her alone, one chance to sit her down and tell her how wrong he’d been all those years ago. Not that it would change anything, but maybe he’d feel better afterward. Maybe he’d stop dreaming about her gorgeous face. It was worth a shot.

  “Fine. Pick me up at my hotel at seven. The Royale, on…”

  “I know where it’s at.”

  She sighed and turned away. He opened the door for her, and she stepped inside the media room. It quieted down as Carson made his way to his seat in the back. Fate had brought them back together; he’d put money on it. And Carson didn’t believe in coincidence. Everything happened for a reason. Touchdowns and interceptions. Wins and losses. And second chances.

  Chapter Four

  Sadie poured herself a glass of red wine, then sat on the king-sized hotel bed with her laptop. Seeing Carson again had brought up a whirlwind of emotions. Nothing could have prepared her for the moment they first made eye contact. The look on his ruggedly handsome face made her want to run back to South Carolina. Fat chance of that happening now. She’d agreed to take this assignment. Failure was not an option.

  Besides, she’d never let Carson Savage have the satisfaction of scaring her off, even though he was more intimidating than ever. Sexier. More successful. She could already tell he was determined to challenge her every move…which made him more of an asshole. Taking a gulp of wine, she opened Skype and called Barbi.

  Her best friend’s pretty face always made her smile. “Thought you forgot about me, girl.”

  “Sorry I’m late, Barbi. I took a long bath and had a glass of wine after work.” She held up her half empty glass. “Wish you were here.”

  “Me, too.”

  In reality, Sadie’s hometown of Fairhope was only a thirty-minute drive away. There was no excuse for not inviting Barbi and Erika up for a visit this upcoming weekend. Barbi was just too good-natured to say anything, which made Sadie feel like crap. “Maybe after everything settles down you can take a drive this way.”

  Barbi nodded with understanding. “Must have been a hell of a reunion.”

  “If you call Carson embarrassing me in front of his team members and then cornering me in the hallway and demanding I have dinner with him tomorrow night a reunion, then yeah.” She set her wine glass on the nightstand, then repositioned herself on the bed, lying on her stomach and propping her head up on her hands. “These guys get paid millions of dollars and act like juvenile delinquents.” She reached for one of the files Coach Rangall had given her earlier. “Look at this.” She held up one of the pics. “Recognize anything?”

  Barbi’s eyes widened. “Can you tilt the photo some?”

  Sadie could do better than that, she held it in front of her face, filling her friend’s computer screen with the image.

  “Oh. My. God! That’s Carson’s ass, isn’t it? I remember when he got that tat, after winning the state championship his sophomore year. How many times did our team moon everyone—didn’t Harp, Jonathan, Georgie, and Miguel get matching tattoos to commemorate that season?”

  Sadie cringed. Their high school football team was the Fairhope Vipers. Carson, Harp, Jonathan, Georgie, and Miguel were known as the Front Five—comprising four of Carson’s offensive linemen and him. They were as cliquey as the characters from Mean Girls.

  “Yes.” She lowered the picture and stared at Barbi. “Do you know how hard it was keeping a straight face in that classroom when I shared his pic?”

  Barbi took a sip of her Red Bull. “I think his ass is a little more muscular though.”

  Sadie couldn’t hold in the snort. “You always were an ass woman.”

  “So are you!”

  Having already committed Carson’s great posterior to memory, Sadie couldn’t disagree. But she wanted to talk about something else. Something to get her mind off the danger of falling apart over Carson, over being back in Alabama. “How did dinner go with Matthew?”

  “No…you’re doing it again. Changing subjects because you’re uncomfortable.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know, Sadie. If you stayed at the retreat and completed the classes, you might know exactly what I mean. By the way, I rescheduled our holiday.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “In four months, we’re going back to the Red Horse Inn and finishing what we started.”

  Not likely! If everything worked out in Alabama and Sadie landed the long-term contract for her company, she planned on rewarding herself with a long vacation in Europe—maybe touring Scotland and Ireland. “I’ll leave that to you and Erika.”

  Barbi frowned.

  “Now, are you going to tell me about Matthew?” Just because Sadie didn’t have a love life worth talking about, she could still live vicariously through her best friend, who never seemed to have a problem hooking up with quality men.

  “We skipped dinner and ordered dessert in my room.”

  “Dessert, huh?”

  “Yeah—fondue—chocolate syrup and strawberries. You should have seen the look I got from the maid the next day when she showed up to change the sheets.”

  “Let me guess, you didn’t exactly eat the strawberries?”

  “Melted chocolate is great for finger painting. And Matthew’s body is quite the canvas.”

  “Is that it?” Another thing Sadie had a hard time with—hooking up with a stranger for a one-night stand. Not that she hadn’t tried before. It just never worked out. The minute a man stuck his fingers under her panties or in her bra, she freaked out.

  “No, he’s flying down next weekend.”

  Sadie clapped her hands. “Finally!”

  “Nothing serious—we’re just friends.”

  “Okay. Friends. Like us.” Before Barbi could reply, Sadie’s hotel phone rang, startling the shit out of her. “I better get that.”

  “Okay, girlfriend. Night.” Barbi blew her a kiss.

  Sadie
made it to the phone by the sixth ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello, gorgeous.”

  Carson. Her whole body went rigid. “What can I do for you, Mr. Savage?”

  His deep-throated laughter made her skin prickle with angst and desire. “We’re still wrapped up in formalities, Kitty Kat?”

  That nickname had been buried with their failed relationship. “Stop calling me Kitty Kat.”

  “Why? It’s the only thing I have left of you, sweetheart.”

  Frustrated by his persistence to not honor her request, she decided to simply end the conversation. “Goodnight, Carson.”

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “I’m in the lobby.”

  “Good for you.” She lowered the handset.

  “Sadie. Don’t hang up.”

  Weighing her options carefully, she’d give him a last chance to make his point. “I’m exhausted, Carson. We have an early morning, remember?”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  “Fine. I’m in room…” The line went dead.

  Two minutes later, Carson knocked on the door. Forgetting to grab her robe, Sadie opened it. The intensity of his roving gaze reminded her of what she was wearing—or what she wasn’t wearing. Dressed in a silky camisole and matching shorts, she probably looked like she was ready to seduce him.

  “Christ, Kitty Kat, is this your way of making up for lost time?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Go away, Carson.”

  He shook his head and proceeded to invite himself inside the room.

  If she caused a scene, someone might call security. She closed the door. “Make it quick, Carson.”

  He groaned with satisfaction as he studied her again, then looked around the room. “This is a nice hotel.”

  “Adequate accommodations,” she agreed, trying to sound detached. “Why are you here?”

  “To make a friendly offer. Staying in a hotel can be uncomfortable, and my house is closer to the stadium, Sadie. I have a guesthouse.” Carson seemed to read her dark thoughts because he quickly added, “No expectations, sweetheart. Just seemed like the neighborly thing to do, since we’re old friends.”

  She stared up at him. Those blue eyes were uncomfortably observant. Soul-reading eyes that had always made her feel like she was under constant scrutiny. “Old friends?” She snorted. “Honestly, thanks but no thanks, Carson. We need to establish boundaries.”