Bad Business

by Nicole Edwards

  That’s a huge point in Stone’s favor and mine.

  But, it’s not all positive. Then again, it never is. He could be a saint and there would always be someone who’s out to get him.

  Looks as though my father and brother were right. Stone’s archnemesis is none other than Luke Devereaux, the lead correspondent for Sports Tonight.

  I don’t know Mr. Devereaux personally, but I do know that he’s not well liked by many people in the league. He’s always looking to dig up dirt on players. I’m not even sure the guy knows a damn thing about the game, but that doesn’t seem to matter. He’s developed his own fan club with his unveiling of past and present players’ indiscretions.

  As for why I’m feeling all protective of Stone, I’m not sure. But I am.

  And though I’m reluctant to spend too much time with Stone—for selfish reasons only, because I happen to like him—I think my father might be onto something. Keeping Stone on the field is not only important to my father’s organization, but it’s important for the game of football. At thirty-four, Stone isn’t even close to needing to retire. Now, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a good reason for wanting to. However, I would like to know what that is.

  What’s a girl to do?

  I know for a fact that I do want to get him to do some publicity events. At the very least, it’ll keep assholes like Devereaux off his case for a little while.

  Grabbing my phone, I pull up Stone’s contact information and tap the text message button. I lied when I told him I hadn’t kept his phone number. However, I think I did a good job of convincing him.

  I shoot off a quick text.

  Thinking more on it. If you’re cool with me pulling together a group of kids for a field trip to the stadium, I’d like to do that. Thought maybe I could get Snyder out there with you. You know, for entertainment value. Thoughts?

  I hit the send button and stare at the screen, my mind working a million miles a minute as I come up with a plan to put this together. I know there are tons of elementary schools near the stadium that would likely jump at the opportunity for this type of field trip, but I also think that reaching out to the school Stone went to would be more personal.

  His story still resonates with me, how he watched the neighborhood kids play while he wasn’t invited. I know that’s not unusual, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. All kids should be included.

  Granted, I do have to take into account the team’s travel schedule. I know my father mentioned he wanted me to travel with them, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Then again, it would give me more time with Stone.

  To work on a plan, that is.

  My phone buzzes and I instantly zero in on the screen.

  I’m at your mercy. In any way you want me.

  God, this man…

  I wonder if he knows how close I am to jumping him for the second time, given the first opportunity.

  Wait.

  No.

  That’s not part of the plan.

  In fact, that could be a bad idea. Considering what my father has asked me to do, if someone ever did find out, then it would look really bad on me. Like really bad.

  Taking a deep breath, I tap out: Well, I’d like you bright eyed and bushy tailed for the event. Think you can manage that?

  Damn it.

  Why do I always do that? Taunting the guy is not what I intended to do.

  Stone: As long as you’re there, I’ll be anything you want me to be.

  Savannah: I’ll be right there by your side, so you can put your best smile on.

  And I mean that. If Jason Stone is willing to go above and beyond to please the fans, I can certainly step out of my comfort zone and help him every step of the way.

  I can only hope that I don’t end up falling for him in the process. Because we all know what happens when you mix business with pleasure. The outcome is never good.

  My phone buzzes.

  When you say right there…how close do you actually mean? Like close enough to touch? Will you be wearing that cheerleader outfit?

  I find myself smiling.

  Although I know I shouldn’t.

  Chapter 13

  “You were an unrestricted free agent as of the end of last year. How did you feel when you learned the Wranglers were interested in acquiring you this season?”

  “I knew someone was going to realize my true value.”

  “So you consider it a smart move on the Wranglers’ part?”

  “I consider it a mutually beneficial move for everyone involved.”

  “And when you realized that you were leading a team that has a real chance at the playoffs this year?”

  “Oh. Well, at that point, I pulled out the vodka.” Stone grins.

  He’s not kidding.

  —Excerpt from Sports Unlimited’s Bad Boys of Sports edition

  Stone

  “Go long!” I call out, rearing back before launching the ball to Alec Torres, a second-string wide receiver who’s been taking passes for the past half hour.

  With practice pretty much over, I wanted some additional time on the field. That’s the way I work, and it seems the team has come to accept the fact that I’m going to give two hundred percent all day, every day. I don’t know any other way to do it. Regardless of what some people say about me, I have worked my ass off year after year, giving everything I have to reach the end goal. I think it’s safe to say I’ve proven myself.

  “Hey, Stone! Think you can take a break?”

  I hold up a finger to stop the kid from tossing me another ball. Turning, I glance in the direction the voice came from.

  That’s when I see her.

  Savannah.

  A strange sensation erupts in my chest and I find myself smiling. It’s been three days since I last saw her. Three days in which I spent a significant amount of time fantasizing about the woman who has somehow captured my interest at a time when I didn’t think it was even possible.

  “Take a break, kid,” I call out, then jog in her direction. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “This is a nice surprise.”

  “Is it?” She looks sheepish.

  “Well, it was, right up until you looked at me like that.”

  Savannah chuckles, then glances behind her. “Don’t worry, I don’t have an entourage of eight-year-olds ready and waiting.”

  I’ll admit, I’m grateful for that. Mainly because the thoughts that are currently running through my mind are not something an eight-year-old should be privy to. No way can I hide my interest.

  “Well, then what brings you out here today?”

  “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood.”

  Her smile is flirtatious and I can’t help but respond in kind. Every second I’ve spent with her, I’ve spent twice as much time thinking about her. Her smile, her eyes, what she looks like naked. In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since the first night I met her. And honestly, ever since I set my mind to taking this team all the way, women have been the last thing on my mind. Like Savannah, I’m focused on my career right now, so women have taken a backseat.

  “You look good out there,” she says and I realize I didn’t respond to her previous comment.

  “Think so?”

  “I know so.” She moves a step closer. “You think you’re ready to play Green Bay?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Do you have a pre-game ritual? Something you do to prep?”

  “Besides relax, no.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “So, you don’t get in your own head? Have some sort of routine you go through? Maybe dig out your stinky socks to wear because they’re lucky
and you’ve worn them in every game you’ve won since high school?”

  “Now, those would be some interesting socks,” I tell her.

  “True.”

  “And no. I’m not superstitious like that.” I grin. “Well, maybe I was a little back in high school. I had this quarter. I thought it was lucky. Kept it in my shoe.”

  “Really?” Savannah’s eyes widen and I see genuine curiosity there. She’s too easy.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  She smacks my arm and I laugh, loving how easy she is to tease. More so, how easy it is for me to be around her.

  “Smartass.”

  “There is one thing I do. For real. I call my mom before and after every game. No matter where we are.”

  “Really?” Her eyes soften as she stares up at me, and I realize exactly what I’ve revealed about myself.

  But, I’m not going to lie about my relationship with my mother, no matter what jokes I might endure because of it. If it weren’t for my momma, I wouldn’t be where I am today. She has supported me and my brother through all the good times and the bad, never once thinking we weren’t capable of accomplishing anything we set our minds to. “It’s true. She’s my lucky charm.”

  The way Savannah looks at me right then makes me feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. I’m not sure why that is either.

  “Do you even know how sweet you are?”

  That pulls a laugh from me. “Trust me. I’m not sweet.” If the woman knew all the dirty thoughts I’ve had about her, she’d call me anything but.

  She gives me a look that says she doesn’t buy that. But it’s true. I’m not sweet. I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but never that.

  “Was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab a bite to eat,” Savannah suggests. “After you’re finished here. I need to meet up with my dad first, but after I’m done…”

  She leaves the sentence hanging, and I can’t seem to stop smiling. “Are you askin’ me out, Andrews?”

  “Not on your life, Stone. But, as your publicist, I know you’ve gotta eat and there’re things we need to discuss.”

  Ah, so she’s back to relegating me to a client now, huh? I’m not sure I like that, but I figure what the hell. I can go with it. After all, it gets me closer to her.

  “I could eat,” I tell her and it dawns on me that I’ve said that before. The last time, when she invited me to breakfast. “Think maybe I could pick the restaurant this time?”

  “As long as it doesn’t require me to dress up and use the proper fork for each course.”

  I’ll admit, when she took me to Denny’s, I was a little shocked. I’m not sure why, but I had expected one of those fancy places that supply a copious amount of silverware and linen napkins. After all, Aaron Andrews is one of the wealthiest men in professional sports. I’ve seen the elaborate mansion her father lives in. Although I’ve come into a decent amount of money in my lifetime, I can’t seem to break old habits, choosing to live relatively lean in an effort to not have to worry about my future. It’s the one thing I’ve been consistent with throughout my life.

  “I promise, I’ll stick with places the common folk gravitate to.”

  Savannah seems to consider this for a second before she says, “All right.”

  I nod. It’s obvious Savannah Andrews likes to be in control whenever possible. I’m okay with that. I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of guy.

  Up to a certain point.

  I just have to wonder if we’ll ever get to that point again.

  I get the feeling, if Savannah has a say in it, I’m going to be permanently relegated to the friend zone. Or the client zone. Personally, I have no intention of remaining there, but I’ve got all the time in the world to find a way to get this sexy, sassy woman back into my bed.

  And no, I’m not in any hurry.

  Savannah

  “All right, so here’s the deal,” I say after we’ve placed our order at Chili’s.

  Stone leans back, resting his arms across the top of the booth, his full attention on me.

  I do my best to ignore the way his chest muscles stretch the fabric of his charcoal-gray Dallas Wranglers T-shirt.

  “In Green Bay,” I continue, “I’ve handpicked a couple of reporters to talk to you after the game.”

  I see his face fall, his arms coming down. In an instant, his body language is closed off, and I know he wasn’t looking forward to talking about work. However, that is the reason I’m here and I told myself this morning, after I spent most of the night dreaming about the sexy football player, that I needed to keep this about business. I’ve allowed myself to fantasize more than I should, and it’s not going to help anyone in the long run.

  “I’ve come up with a list of questions I’d like them to focus on.” Again, I’m taking the opportunity presented to me, wanting to give the fans a little personal insight into our star quarterback.

  “Okay.” He seems genuinely interested in the condensation on his water glass.

  “Stone?”

  “Hmm?” He doesn’t look up at me.

  I wait.

  He still doesn’t.

  Reaching over, I touch his hand. “Hey.”

  His eyes instantly snap up to mine, yet I don’t move my hand.

  When his big hand turns, clasping mine, I suck in a startled breath, my gaze dropping to the movement. His fingers are warm and strong, calloused, but gentle. That simple move makes my toes curl and my belly flutter. I remember all too well what it feels like to have his hands on me.

  “Would it be possible to pretend this isn’t about work for a little while?” he asks, the deep baritone of his voice sliding over my skin like a lover’s caress. “I get that you’re probably used to living in the office, but maybe we could enjoy dinner first.”

  I find myself nodding although my brain says that’s a stupid idea. If I allow myself to get closer to this man, I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to do my job. As it is, I spend far too much time remembering what he looks like naked, the way his skin feels against mine, his body covering me, sliding deep, deeper…

  Shit.

  Seriously. I’m so eager to sate my Jason Stone urges, I even did some additional searches to locate footage of him after a game. I found one when a reporter caught him just after his shower. He was wearing a pair of shorts and no shirt…let’s just say I’m probably borderline stalker-ish when it comes to that video.

  But I can’t seem to help myself. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been around a man who’s so easy to talk to, to laugh with. I like Stone. A lot.

  “Okay,” I say, inconspicuously pulling my hand from beneath his and reaching for my iced tea. “How was work?” I ask with a smile.

  His eyes soften and there’s another flutter in my belly. He resumes his position with his arms across the booth and once again I’m drawn to the movement, to the way his pecs flex.

  I take a drink, my face suddenly hot.

  “Same ol’, same ol’. You know how it is,” he says with a smirk. “How about you? What was on your agenda for the day?”

  I shake my head. “Nothin’ really. A little this, a little that.”

  “You try on any new outfits?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did…” I smile. “Not.”

  His smile widens, those dimples flash, and heat consumes me once more.

  This is not working out the way I’d planned. Not at all.

  Chapter 14

  Stone

  I’ve learned that it’s not difficult to get Savannah off topic. Keeping her there requires a little more skill, but tonight I’ve managed relatively well. At least we made it through dinner without going over the logistics of Operation: Keep Jason Stone in the Friend Zone.

  But no
w, as I walk her to her car, I get the feeling she’s going to turn this right back around to business. I’m not exactly sure what her motivation is here, but I don’t think either of us can deny that there is an attraction that’s getting more and more difficult to fight.

  “You’ll be at practice tomorrow, right?” she asks when we stop in front of her Mercedes.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And then the team’s travelin’ on Saturday.”

  It wasn’t phrased as a question, but I nod anyway.

  “And a game on Sunday.”

  “That’s the plan, sure,” I say, taking another step closer just to see what she’ll do.

  Not surprisingly, Savannah backs up until she’s practically molded to her car, her eyes fixed on my face as I stare down at her.

  “Stone?”

  If I’m not mistaken, this beautiful woman keeps glancing down at my mouth. It doesn’t help me resist the urge to kiss her, that’s for damn sure.

  “Hmm?” Now I’m looking at her mouth.

  “What are you doin’?”

  I’ve noticed that her drawl has been significantly thicker than usual tonight. I’m not sure if that’s because she’s relaxed or nervous. I hope it’s the former. Although, the idea of me making the take-charge Savannah a little nervous isn’t a bad thing.

  I meet her eyes. “Nothing. What are you doing?”

  “Are you…?” She licks her lips and my dick jumps. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

  “Was thinkin’ about it,” I murmur, leaning in a little closer.

  It’s almost completely dark, but thanks to the parking lot lights, we’re far from concealed. And that means someone could be watching us. That someone could even be a reporter.

  I know that should bother me, that I should consider who it is I’m about to kiss, but I can’t seem to care. I haven’t known this woman that long, but I can safely say that kissing her again has been on my mind since the first night I had her mouth on mine. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how I’ve resisted so far.