Ball Buster

by Kara Sheridan

“Jealous?”

  The orchestra started to play a waltz and Carson didn’t wait for Sadie’s reply, he guided her to the dance floor, holding her close—breathing in her scent. She rested her cheek against his chest, swaying to the soft music. She belonged to him. As his hand slipped up her back, he wondered if this could last forever. Was this really their second chance at happiness?

  A half hour later, Carson found an empty table for them to sit at and then wandered off for drinks and food. He returned with two beers, sushi rolls, and chocolate-covered strawberries.

  Sadie eyed the temaki. “Should I be nervous about what’s inside the wrap?”

  “Not at all,” he assured her. “Anything served out here is safe.”

  “But…”

  “Martin was just showing off before, sweetheart. He liked you.”

  Braving a taste of sushi, she made a satisfied noise as she swallowed her first bite. “The crab melts in your mouth. Taste it.”

  Carson took a sip of beer, then grabbed a piece of the cone-shaped sushi. He bit into it, crab, spicy tuna, and rice filling his mouth.

  “Well?”

  “I’d rather hand-feed you in my bed.”

  Sadie shifted on her seat. “That can be arranged.”

  “Can it?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” she said, reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry. She took a delicate bite, then offered the rest to Carson. “Like this?”

  He licked her fingertips as he accepted the treat, undressing her with his eyes. He’d never be able to get enough of her. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

  “That was too easy.”

  “Nothing easy about it,” he assured her. “I’m dying to get inside you, Sadie. And if we don’t hurry up and go, I’ll find an empty bedroom here—though a closet or bathroom will serve just as well.”

  She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin, then folded it neatly and set it on the table. Crooking a finger at him, Carson had no choice but to lean closer to Sadie. “How desperate are you to make love to me?” she asked.

  “Incredibly desperate.” Now everybody was going to know about them, but Carson didn’t care. He wanted his relationship with Sadie to go public. It would show her how serious he was. “Do you need more convincing?” This time he offered her a strawberry, enjoying the way her full lips wrapped around the decadent dessert, her pink tongue licking the trace of chocolate from her bottom lip.

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment, imagining what her tongue could do to his cock—what explosive passion her tiny, warm hands could inspire.

  “Carson?”

  He grinned. “Sorry, Kitty Kat.”

  “Kitty Kat?”

  Carson frowned at the male voice, finding Jag standing next to Sadie. “Jag,” he said, extending his hand, irritated by the intrusion.

  Jag shook it. “Not joining us in the VIP tonight?”

  “I have plans.”

  Jag’s gaze slipped to Sadie. “I can see that.”

  “Tell the team I’ll see them at practice tomorrow.”

  “Mind if I dance with the lady before you go?” Jag asked, focusing on Carson again.

  Carson stood. “Yeah, I do mind.” He offered his hand to Sadie, and she took it, rising from her chair.

  “Does she?” Jag gestured at Sadie.

  Carson’s body went rigid. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

  She gazed up at him, then glanced at Jag. “Thanks for the tempting offer, but I’m not done playing with the quarterback.”

  She squeezed Carson’s fingers, signaling she was ready to go. It pleased him to witness her shutting Jag Patera down. But something kept niggling at his gut as they walked through the house and out the front door. What did Sadie mean by saying I’m not done playing with the quarterback? Jag had obviously approached Sadie before. It pissed him off, but he wouldn’t push the issue right now. It just meant he’d have to keep a closer eye on his teammate—and on Sadie, because he didn’t trust Jag to respect boundaries.

  The valet delivered his truck, and once they drove away from the house, he turned on the radio and rested his hand on her knee, trying to concentrate on the road. A couple miles into the drive, he sighed, overcome with both desire and anger. “That’s it,” he declared as he pulled off the street, putting on his emergency lights, and killing the ignition. “I can’t wait.”

  As if she felt the same, Sadie unbuckled her seat belt and then opened her door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Out here.” She closed the door and started for the woods a few feet away from the shoulder.

  “Sonofabitch.” Carson climbed out of the truck and followed her, more than ready to make love in the woods.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Three days later, Sadie and Carson met for lunch at a downtown café. She’d chosen a patio table, away from the crowd, overlooking the busy street. He arrived on time, wearing jeans and a Disturbed T-shirt, a baseball cap, sunglasses, and boots. As he wound his way through the maze of tables, Sadie couldn’t help watching the way people reacted to his presence. Whether they recognized him or not, he was impossible to ignore.

  He reached their table and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Hope I’m not late, Kitty Kat.”

  “Not at all,” she said.

  “So why here? We could have met at your hotel or at the stadium.”

  Sadie opened a menu and scanned the list of lunch specials. “I thought neutral ground would serve best.”

  “Neutral ground?” The crease between his eyebrows deepened. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” She looked up. “Sorry if it came off that way. We just don’t need any distractions, like a bed or desk.”

  That made him smile. “What about wrought iron tables?” He patted the table top. “Seems sturdy enough.”

  Sadie cleared her throat. “In the middle of the lunchtime rush?”

  “Since when has that ever stopped us?”

  She thought about it. Nothing ever deterred them from making love. “We’re not teenagers anymore.”

  “Thank God,” he said with a wink. “I prefer the grown-up version of Sadie Reynolds and everything she has to offer.”

  Folding her hands to keep from touching him, she cleared her throat. “That’s enough innuendo from you, Mr. Savage.”

  “Is it now?” He lowered his sunglasses on his nose, peeking at her.

  “I meant this to be a professional meeting.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ve been thinking about how we could move forward with sharing the farm experience with your fans—giving them a candid look into your life without being too intrusive.”

  “I already agreed to do whatever you wanted. I like the idea overall, as long as there’s no backlash with my mom and sisters.”

  “That’s just it…”

  “What?”

  “Good afternoon.” A server approached the table. “What can I get you to drink?”

  Sadie had been craving a cup of Turkish coffee but changed her mind the moment Carson had arrived. “Gin and tonic with extra lime,” she ordered.

  “What about you, sir?”

  “Iced tea.”

  As soon as the server walked away, Carson resumed the conversation. “What’s just it, Sadie?”

  Resting her elbows on the table, she decided to speak freely. “I know there’s more work to do on the farm, but I think it would be a great idea to present the property to your mother early. And to hold a charitable event at the same time for Big Brothers Big Sisters. Maybe a picnic—we can hire a band and have face painting and a magician for the kids. I’m sure local restaurants would be happy to sponsor the event.”

  Carson’s expression remained unchanged as he leaned back in his chair. “That’s impossible.”

  It wasn’t the reaction she had expected. “Why?”

  “Because it goes against everything I told you. Asking Charlie Silva to appear is challenging enough. Asking
Mom and the girls to step into the spotlight is selfish.”

  “Not if we plan it carefully.”

  “No.”

  “You’re being stubborn.”

  He shook his head. “I’m being protective.”

  “Stubborn.”

  The server arrived with their drinks. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Give us a few minutes,” Carson said.

  “Carson…”

  “Ask anything else of me.”

  “Won’t you even take the time to review my proposal?”

  “Proposal?”

  “Yes.” Sadie scooted her chair back and reached for the leather briefcase sitting on the ground at her feet. She opened it and pulled out a file. “I’ve taken the time to draft a timeline complete with a synopsis of what I’d like to achieve.” She handed the folder to Carson.

  With a quirk of his lips, he opened the file.

  The server returned, and Sadie ordered a chef salad for herself and a French dip and fries for Carson.

  “Sadie…” He watched her intently for a long moment. “You’ve contracted a professional camera crew to follow us around the farm?”

  “Proposed,” she corrected.

  “All right, proposed,” he repeated. “That doesn’t change anything. KTCA gets exclusive reporting rights in exchange for the use of one of their camera crews.”

  “Yes, simple economics for that part. KTCA is an award-winning station. They have an extensive audience—especially online. What better way to connect with your fans and make new ones? Plus, they’ll handle the Big Brothers Big Sisters involvement—as well as Rex’s relationship to you—with care.”

  He nodded and returned his attention to the paper. “So, you’re suggesting multiple interviews and visits to the farm? And you want to involve my teammates?”

  There’d be no regrets on this project. She’d spent the better part of two days coming up with the final plan. “Like a miniseries,” she said.

  “So now I’m expected to be a reality star?”

  “The interviews will be featured on the evening news, but the extended episodes about your family, the kids, and farm will be on the internet. We’ll schedule several live feeds so fans can ask you direct questions.”

  Carson scrubbed his chin, looking more and more irritated. “Sadie.”

  “I know it sounds intrusive. But it’s not. You can’t buy that kind of promotion, Carson. Think about the money we’ll raise for Big Brothers Big Sisters. And if we’re successful, maybe it can be an annual event. Getting kids out of the city for the day is a wonderful thing.”

  The server brought their meals. Carson took a bite of his sandwich and chewed aggressively.

  “There’s some time to think about it,” she said.

  She ate a few forkfuls of salad, nervous Carson might blow the whole thing off. Yes, she’d pushed the limits, but she just had a feeling if he agreed to the terms, he’d see the value in it once they started working together to organize the event.

  “If I agree to this, I want to tell my mother and sisters about the farm in private first.”

  Sadie thought about it. Capturing their emotional reactions on film when Carson surprised them with the property was half the appeal of her idea. But she understood why Carson wanted to protect his family. “We can work around that.”

  “I love the idea of involving Big Brothers Big Sisters, Sadie. They’re my favorite charitable organization.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to meet Charlie.”

  “He’s a great kid. Loves math and science.”

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “You just inspired another idea”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Does it involve taking our clothes off?”

  “No.” She smacked his hand. “Work first. Play later.”

  “All work, no play makes me a dull boy.”

  She snorted. “Seriously, Carson. Instead of the typical kind of entertainment for the kids, what if we sponsored an imaginarium?”

  “Like a museum?”

  “Yes. Interactive learning, math, science, the arts…We can do whatever we want, really.”

  “That’s a great idea, Kitty Kat.” He rubbed his stubbled chin. “My mom and sisters would love a chance to help.”

  “You’re actually getting excited about it now?”

  “Sadie…” He cradled her hand in his. “This reminds me of the way we used to be in high school. Working together on projects and…”

  “I tutored you, Carson.”

  “I know. But we clicked, didn’t we?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “And we did a damn good job organizing fundraisers for the team.”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “That’s why this feels right.”

  “I have one demand,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The dunking booth. That stays.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Really?” she practically squealed.

  “On one condition.”

  She’d do anything for him. “Everything is negotiable.”

  “Glad to hear it, Kitty Kat. Because if I have to step out of my comfort zone, so do you.”

  She set her fork aside and folded her hands on the table. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Spend the weekend with me in Fairhope.”

  Her flight instinct kicked in. She reached for a glass of ice water and took a long, nervous drink. “That’s not possible.”

  “Why? Help me understand what’s so intimidating about going home.”

  Sadie couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to. But if she expected Carson’s cooperation, she’d have to give in. “I’m horrified by the prospect of seeing anyone we used to know. You saw what happened with Jason.”

  “Well what if we just see Barbi? Erika? What about my mom?”

  She cocked her head. Her resentment of the place where she grew up was as strong now as it was back then. Never mind that she was educated and successful and had nothing to be ashamed of. But the very thought of walking down Main Street and having someone recognize her, especially one of her you-ruined-Carson’s-life accusers, made her want to curl up in bed all day. “Where would we stay?”

  “I keep an apartment.”

  “Where?”

  “A studio off Fairhope Avenue.”

  She laughed. “Widow O’Brian’s house?”

  His face lit up. “You remembered?”

  “How could I forget? She was one of your biggest fans. How is she?”

  “Still as ornery as ever.”

  “With all your money, I can’t believe you don’t just buy a condo or house there.”

  Carson shrugged. “I like helping her out.”

  “Do you ever do anything for yourself, Carson?”

  “Beyond football?”

  “Yes.”

  “Only when I promised myself I’d win you back again after seeing you in that classroom.”

  Warmth radiated through her body. The man never failed to have the right words, to give the right look, to know when to touch her. “I-I…”

  “You don’t have to say a thing, Sadie. I know how you feel.”

  Did he? Or was he just guessing? Because underneath all the bravado was a brokenhearted boy who’d lost her. “Tell me.” She stared at their joined hands, liking how perfectly her smaller one fit in his.

  “You love me, Sadie. Plain and simple. And if I ventured a little further, I’d say you never stopped.”

  She blinked, giving no indication of whether he was right or wrong. Yes, Sadie loved Carson Savage. “You’re so arrogant,” she teased.

  “Confidence is different.”

  “Says who?”

  “The experts.”

  “What experts?” she asked.

  “My mother.”

  That made Sadie smile so much it hurt. “You win, Carson. I’ll go to Fairhope with you. But promise we can keep the public appearances to a minimum.�
�

  “Dinner and drinks with a few friends on Saturday night?”

  “Agreed.”

  They finished eating and Carson paid the bill. She watched him with even deeper interest now, the way he interacted with people and carried himself—like he wasn’t an NFL quarterback with a multimillion-dollar contract.

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the restaurant and down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. “Going back to the stadium?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I have some paperwork to finish up and a scheduled meeting with my boss.”

  “I’ll follow you, then,” he offered.

  As she climbed into her car, Sadie knew she never wanted to leave Carson Savage again.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  With the regular camp starting in four weeks, Carson’s practice time had been cut in half to avoid injury. He reported to the strength and conditioning coaches more than anyone now, and he had some extra time to review film footage and finalize his playbook. Once he finished for the day, he decided to make a quick trip to Fairhope to prepare for the upcoming weekend. Sadie needed to feel safe and comfortable, to learn how to love her hometown again.

  Carson parked in the Liberty Insurance parking lot and knocked on the back door of the office where most of the employees entered/exited the building. He’d known the secret knock since college: bang on it three times, pause, then knock twice again. A few seconds later, Gretchen Black, one of the agents, opened the door and smiled.

  “Is your mother expecting you, Carson?”

  “Nice to see you, Gretchen. She’s not expecting me. Am I allowed to come in, even if it’s a surprise visit?”

  She swatted at his arm and waved him inside, then closed and locked the door. “Give an old woman a hug.”

  Carson gave her a toothy grin and dragged the older woman into his arms, giving her a good squeeze. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Grabbing a cup of coffee in the break room, I think.”

  “Mind if I wander around some?”

  “Go ahead, I have a conference call in ten minutes. Good luck with the opening game.” Gretchen walked down the hallway.

  He turned right and found his mother in the break room sitting at a table with her back to the door, her face buried in a newspaper. Standing quietly for several minutes, he admired the woman who had taught him to believe in himself, to keep his word no matter how insignificant the promise he’d made might be, and to always tell the truth. Sometimes he faltered as a kid, not living up to her high standards, but she’d always forgive and say it was never too late to start over.