Ask For It

by Selena Blake

  Rather than give him constant directions, she’d left that to the computerized voice.

  A horn blared from behind them and she turned in her seat to see her brother Ronny stepping out of his car. His wave and dashing grin let her know he’d tapped the horn on purpose. If she didn’t know better she’d think that Thomas was the oldest because Ronny was much too laid back and fun loving to be the ‘serious, responsible’ eldest brother.

  “Gang’s all here,” she said lightly, though butterflies were doing figure eights in her stomach.

  Ronny trotted across the yard and took the porch steps two at a time. She chewed her lower lip. Rain had such lousy timing. Now they’d be cooped up until it passed. She didn’t want anyone to ask Trevor questions that made him uncomfortable.

  Almost as if reading her mind, he squeezed her hand. “I can handle it.”

  She’d kept a tight rein on her inquisitiveness for a month. She didn’t want everything to blow up in her face, just when she felt like they were developing into something…more.

  “I just don’t want them to give you the inquisition… or—”

  “Or?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Or ask you about your knee.” Something she hadn’t dared to mention until now.

  “If they ask, I’ll tell them the truth. Rain makes it hurt like a son-of-a-gun.”

  She huffed out a short, but relieved laugh.

  “Should we go inside?” Trevor asked, still sounding amused.

  JJ let out self-deprecating sigh and nodded. This was family. Her family. Friends she’d known for ages. They’d love Trevor and he’d like them and they’d all get along and be one big happy family.

  That’s just the way it had to be.

  Rain pelted them as they strode up the walkway to the wide front porch, cake in hand. JJ picked out the voices flowing from the open doorway. Dad, Thomas, Greg, Cindy, Adam and a few neighbors she’d known almost all her life.

  As her foot hit the bottom step, JJ reminded herself that she hadn't been this nervous the first time she'd entered the men's locker room for an interview. So this should be a piece of cake. A walk in the park. That helped ease a little of her tension. The warm hand at the small of her back helped even more.

  “If things go south, just remember I can bench press two fifty and run the forty yard dash in four point two nine seconds,” Trevor whispered in her ear.

  JJ paused, a feeling of rightness and calm washing over her, through her. A rain drop smacked her on the cheek but in that moment she wouldn’t have cared if she’d been soaking wet. Trevor Wyatt had her back. It was amazing…and surreal.

  “I so want to kiss you right now,” she whispered back. But she couldn't. Her dad had spotted her and was striding through the over-sized front door.

  “Peanut!” With no regard for the cake carrier in her hand, he swept her up into a bear hug. As always, he smelled of Old Spice and coffee.

  “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

  “Eh, the only reason I allow you kids to continue throwing birthday parties for me is to get everyone together under the same roof.”

  “We're here all the time,” she said, even though she knew her job kept her away far too often. Just one more reason to get out of field reporting as soon as her bank account would allow it.

  “Now, introduce me to your—” He pulled back and faced Trevor, a look of surprise lifting his features. “Don't I know you from somewhere?”

  “Daddy, meet Trevor Wyatt. Trevor, my father Ron Fairchild. Trevor used to play—”

  “For the New York Wolves. I know. I know,” he cut her off and extended a somewhat weathered hand to Trevor. “Pleasure meeting you.”

  She'd known it wouldn't take the men in her family long to recognize Trevor; after all, she'd been raised in a die-hard-tailgate-happy family.

  “I always wondered if our little sis would bring home an athlete.” Ronny, her oldest brother, put her in a quick headlock and gave her hair a tease. True to form.

  She elbowed him in the ribs and he let her go, laughing like always.

  “You don't need an introduction, but I'm Ronny.”

  Thomas and Greg had followed him. Greg, the baby of the family by a few months, looked doubly impressed by the handsome man at JJ's side.

  They introduced themselves, handshaking ensued, and there was a tiny moment of silence before the football talk began in earnest.

  “I knew this was going to happen,” JJ muttered. Trevor must have heard her because he chuckled.

  “Let's take this party out back,” her father said, above the dull roar of conversation and pouring rain.

  “I put the box on your old bed,” Thomas whispered.

  “Okie doke.” She excused herself as the men picked up Cindy, Adam and several of the neighbors on their way through the house. JJ was glad to have a momentary reprieve and rushed up the stairs to wrap the present.

  It took her all of five minutes and then she was back downstairs, making sure the kitchen was set up. Trevor had left the cake on the counter. She heard everyone laughing through the open French doors and smiled.

  “Seems like your young man is a hit,” Mrs. Bradley said, watching the fuss through the back window. The group had congregated on the covered porch.

  “We’re a football crazy bunch. You know that.”

  Mrs. Bradley and her husband had been a fixture at holiday parties, birthdays, and the annual Fairchild Super Bowl Extravaganza for as long as JJ could remember.

  “I think it’s more than that.” The older woman artfully arranged trays of food on the kitchen island. Though her black hair was peppered with gray and her beautiful ebony skin had a few more wrinkles than she’d had back in January, she’d aged well. JJ often wondered what her mother would have looked like as she aged. “He suits you. They can see it.”

  “Let’s hope. I wouldn’t want him to go home with buckshot in the—” she cut off before she said ass. Mrs. Bradley had been a friend of her mother’s for many years and undoubtedly would not approve of a woman using such words. Unfortunately, JJ had picked up ‘language’ during her years watching sports, roughing with boys, and dealing with athletes.

  By the way Mrs. B’s lips curved JJ knew the older woman hadn’t missed JJ’s near-slip of the tongue. She was gracious enough that she didn’t call her out on it.

  JJ pulled the caramel cake from the carrier and placed it among the desserts on the counter.

  “That looks delicious.”

  “It should be. Southern Living never did publish a bad recipe.” JJ forced a smile.

  “For dating a football legend, you don’t look so happy.”

  JJ’s smiled faltered. Trust Mrs. Bradley to say it like she saw it. She’d never been one to mince words.

  She supposed the older woman could see her nervousness. Someone was bound to bring up Trevor’s quick exit from the sport. It was inevitable, she supposed. But she didn’t want him to feel—

  “He’s a big boy, Julia. He can handle whatever they dish out,” Mrs. Bradley said before she turned and joined everyone on the back porch.

  JJ stared after her. Mrs. B was right of course. JJ simply needed to find a way to stop worrying about it. He’d been so vehement when he’d thought she was there to interview him, poke into his life. But they’d gotten past that. He seemed to trust her now.

  She needed to trust him to be the man he was. Strong and capable, perfectly able to handle his own affairs. And while she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, she needed to realize that life was life. Something was bound to happen to make him uncomfortable at some point. It wasn’t her job to protect him from that.

  As she leaned against the counter, watching the men laughing at something Trevor had said, she knew that Trevor was making an effort to be a part of her life. He’d shown up. It was about time she showed up and joined him. If she wanted a relationship, she had to get over her insecurities and worries about how he’d react, step off the sidelines and join the game.

  Sh
e glanced at the family portrait hanging above the family room fireplace. Her mother had battled cancer for several years before she’d died. And in those years, she’d thrown caution to the wind and really learned to live.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, JJ blinked away the tears. Her mom would have liked Trevor. Not just because he was easy on the eyes. But because he was good to her daughter.

  “Life’s too short,” she’d said several times during those last years.

  “You’re right mom,” JJ whispered to the empty room.

  Life was too short to sit on the sidelines, hemming and hawing over the future. The future was uncertain. Trevor was here. Now. And that was good enough.

  On her way to his side, she stopped by the cooler for a beer. They made room for her in the circle and Trevor slid an arm around her waist. Wasn’t this what she’d dreamed of for years? And if she was honest, hadn’t she wanted the man at her side to be none other than the wide receiver from the Wolves with the knee-banging smile?

  “Trevor was just telling us that the producers of that dance show want him for next season,” her father said.

  “Is that right?” JJ cut him a glance. He hadn’t said a word about it. The idea of one of those gorgeous dancers in a barely-there costume made her blood pressure rise. She recognized the flare of jealousy and wouldn’t apologize for it. But she reminded herself that the pro dancers were just that…professionals.

  And maybe he’d learn some smooth moves he could use on JJ.

  “Show us your moves,” Ronny said.

  “You had a pretty good touch down dance, as I recall,” Thomas added.

  One of the things she loved most…whoa, girl. Okay, admired most about Trevor was his comfort in his own skin. Years in the spotlight gave him plenty of experience to draw from, plus some really hilarious jokes.

  He turned and gave a goofy impression of a butt-shaking cowboy lassoing a calf. Everyone cracked up.

  “Your man’s a hit,” Cindy whispered in JJ’s ear.

  “I knew he would be,” she said automatically and realized it was true. Despite his once-upon-a-time Bad Boy status, he had the kind of magnetism that drew people in. Was that why she’d been so attracted to him for so many years?

  “It’s a good thing he only has eyes for you. Some unscrupulous woman might try to steal him.”

  JJ had accepted that fact years ago. That first smile he’d given her had rocked her universe. But she’d known then that he belonged to the world. A man with talent like his couldn’t be locked away. It wasn’t fair.

  But he’d locked himself away after his accident, hadn’t he? She didn’t see his name in the news much anymore; he’d left the team. Maybe he didn’t belong to anyone but himself now.

  “Good thing the rain stopped. I’m issuing a challenge,” Greg told her, his light blue eyes glittering.

  “I’m still gonna kick yer butt,” JJ told him, laying the southern drawl on real thick.

  Ronny moved to the built in bench at the edge of the porch and retrieved the football they’d had since they were kids. “Time to get muddy!”

  JJ still remembered the first summer her hands had been big enough to hold that hunk of cow hide properly. There were very few moments in her life where she’d been that proud.

  “I think we’re going to need bonus points,” Thomas said, stealing the ball and tossing it up in the air.

  “Bonus points?” JJ put her beer on the table and started for the yard.

  “You know, like the curve in math class. Trevor’s a professional,” her brother insisted.

  “Pansy,” JJ chided.

  “I’ll go easy on ‘em,” Trevor announced.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said. “You’re my not-so-secret weapon. Payback for all they times they—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Thomas yelled. “Just catch the ball.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Are you ready to admit defeat,” JJ crowed two hours later.

  Trevor loved the way her eyes sparkled. She was having so much fun taunting her brothers. And being a younger brother himself, he was more than happy to help her settle a few scores.

  “Fine. I’m muddy anyway,” Ronny admitted.

  Indeed he was. Trevor was a little damp, but he’d dry.

  “Good game,” he said, extending his hand to everyone.

  “Next year, I’m bringing back up,” Thomas grumbled. “You stacked the deck, sis.”

  JJ smiled mischievously.

  “Good luck trying to find someone of Trevor’s caliber,” she said as they stepped onto the stone terrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ronny, know any NFL players?” Thomas asked popping beer caps.

  “Aside from Trevor, that’d be a no.”

  “Looks like I’m gonna win next year too,” JJ taunted.

  “All right, quit planning and come eat,” Cindy called from the doorway.

  They left their shoes by the back door and descended upon the kitchen en masse. It wasn’t until he stood; plate in hand, and everyone laughed discussing their game and heaping food onto their plates that Trevor realized just how much he missed the noisy family environment. He didn’t go home nearly as much as he should.

  Julia’s father brought in a platter of hamburgers and hot dogs. “Eat up!”

  Trevor’d just snagged himself a dog when Julia’s cellphone rang. Juggling her plate and cutlery, she retrieved it and glanced at the screen. She sighed and said “I have to take this,” before disappearing into the front hall.

  “Her new boss is something else,” Cindy murmured.

  “I thought she had the weekend off.”

  Cindy paused mid scoop and glanced toward the hall. “She does. It’s a standing arrangement. Not that he gives a—” She cut off and glanced across the island at Mrs Bradley. “You know.”

  Trevor knew the type. Anything to win. Whatever it took. Harder. Faster. Better.

  From everything he’d read, Julia was great at her job. She understood sports and wrote engaging stories. Hell, Roger Morrison had handpicked her to do his first interview after he’d been indicted on chicken fighting charges two years ago. She’d done an amazing investigative piece on steroids and their lingering effects. Trevor had read almost every article she’d ever written. What did her boss have to complain about? And why the hell did she stay?

  She’d gotten a job offer this week and he highly doubted it was the only one on the table. He’d be willing to bet that she’d have her choice of stories if only she’d give her boss the boot.

  After he’d finished filling his plate he headed out to the long teak patio table and snagged a spot.

  “Want another beer, Trevor?” Ronny held up a bottle.

  “No, thanks.” He held up a bottle of water. Truth was he never had more than a glass of wine or a bottle of beer these days. One was enough to be social.

  He knew it’d take a lot more than a couple of beers to get him drunk. In fact, he knew exactly what it’d take. But he would never chance it again.

  “Where’s JJ?” Her father asked, taking a seat across from him.

  “She had to take a phone call,” Cindy said.

  Trevor turned in his seat and looked through the window. He saw her pacing back and forth through the entry way, her free hand making wild gestures. He didn’t want to interrupt, but she looked like she needed rescuing.

  “I’ll check on her,” he said and stood up.

  In the dim entryway their gazes met and she rolled her eyes. Then she held up a finger.

  “Fine. I’ll take care of it. But not until later.” She paused and listened for another moment. “John, I’ve got to go.”

  She pulled the phone away from her ear and stabbed a button with vicious intent. “That man is going to cause me to drink.”

  “Want me to beat him up?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

  “Would you? I’d be forever in your debt.” She snuggled close. “I’m sorry for
the interruption.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I figured if I came looking for you it might give you the excuse you needed to escape.”

  “It worked perfectly.”

  She tipped her head back and stared up at him. “Julia…” He couldn’t help but brush a kiss across her lips. “Don’t tempt me.”

  She chuckled softly, her lush breasts rubbing against his chest. “Come on. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

  So was he.

  “Have you let Trevor read your book yet?” Greg asked.

  Oh dear Lord, where was a sinkhole when you needed one to swallow you?

  “Greg!” she snapped then clenched her teeth.

  “What book?” Cindy and Trevor asked at the same time.

  “You wrote a book?” her father asked. “That’s great!”

  She’d known letting Greg read Game Day was a mistake. She should have made him pinky-swear that he wouldn’t tell a soul, just like she had when they’d been kids.

  “What?” he asked, completely naive to the situation.

  JJ tried not to squirm like a fish on a hook. It would only attract attention. “I wrote a book,” she said casually.

  “When?” Cindy asked.

  “Last year,” JJ mumbled.

  Her pretty blonde friend stared at her from across the table and JJ tried in vain to read her mind.

  “What's it about dear?” Mrs. Bradley asked.

  “Sports, what else?” Greg said and gave a quick laugh.

  What else? JJ frowned. Did he really think her life revolved around sports? That she couldn't write anything else? Well, it was either sports or flipping houses. Sports seemed like it’d sell better, so she supposed he had a point.

  “Actually, it's about a football star who struggles to regain his life and performance level after his wife dies in a car accident.”

  “What?” Trevor asked.

  The word was so quiet, so haunted, she turned in her seat to look at him. He’d lost some color and his beautiful blue eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them.

  She started to assure him that it was just a silly concept, entirely fictional. But as she glanced at him, she realized what a lie that would be. The kernel of the idea had hit her the moment she’d seen his press conference, confirming that he was leaving the Wolves.