Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel

by Julie Brannagh

  It was no secret that Cameron had stalkers. It was, unfortunately, an occupational hazard for anyone in the public eye. The PSN studios were well-fortified. She had personal security whenever she did sideline reporting for a game, too. She didn’t see her own mail until Kacee and PSN security verified it was safe. She was escorted home from work, and she knew there was at least one guy with an earpiece and extensive martial arts and firearms training in her vicinity at all times in New York City. The last place she expected to be confronted was a quiet street in Seattle’s suburbs.

  Her attacker had been so high on meth he’d told the police his name was Moonfire Starshine; he’d been packing a gun and several hundred rounds of ammunition in his car. Mr. Starshine had driven to the Sharks headquarters from somewhere in Idaho. He’d told the police that he was her husband, and he was sent from God to start a family with her. He’d also told the police that she was disobedient and she needed to be punished. That’s what the gun was for.

  Cameron threw herself down on the bed, covering her face with her hands. She wasn’t sure she could face what she imagined would be Ben’s less-than-sympathetic grilling and, most likely, Kevin’s smirking. Kevin was about to get his fondest wish: more airtime at PSN. Sharks security and the local police department told her it would be safer for everyone concerned if she did interviews in a more controlled area, and they sent Logan to the practices to do the filming. In other words, she couldn’t do the job she’d been sent here to do, and there would be consequences for her—and additional air time for him—as a result.

  She’d brushed her teeth three times already. She felt like her stomach was tied in a series of knots. She knew she’d feel better if she ate something, but she was afraid it would come right back up. She wanted a few more minutes to get it together, but she let out a groan as she glanced at the clock on her cell phone. She was going to be late.

  Someone tapped at the door as she pulled herself into a sitting position. “Who’s there?” she called out.

  “Cameron, it’s me. May I come in?”

  Letting Zach into her dorm room wasn’t the smartest idea ever. She was going to do it anyway. She crossed the room and pulled the door open.

  “Hi,” he said. The look on his face was inscrutable. He had a paper lunch sack in one hand.

  “Hi,” she said.

  They stared at each other for a moment. Cameron resisted the impulse to run her hands over him, checking for injuries. He wasn’t fragile. He spent Sundays from September until February each year doing battle with guys as big as he was. They weren’t carrying a loaded weapon onto the football field, though.

  Tears swam in her eyes again. She battled them back. He wasn’t hurt, she told herself. He walked away. She did, too. Why did she feel so guilty, then?

  How would she have ever explained to his family if it hadn’t turned out so well?

  He crossed the threshold and let the door shut behind him. He set the bag down on the computer desk in her room.

  “The chef said you needed some soup to settle your stomach.” He nodded at the bag. “There’s a roll in there, too. If you’re still hungry, we can get you something else to eat.”

  “That’s really nice of him. Thank you for bringing it.”

  It was always good to thank someone else for doing something kind for you, but it wasn’t the thanks she should be offering right now. She rubbed her hands over her face again.

  “Zach, I don’t know what to say right now.” She felt herself shaking again. Her stomach was churning, and her voice quavered. “You saved my life this morning.”

  “I did not. I threw some guy who wanted to hurt you over the hood of a car until the cops got there.”

  “No. You—I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if you weren’t there, or you hadn’t figured out so fast that there was something wrong with that guy. I . . .” She shook her head. “It sounds so inadequate to just say ‘Thank you,’ but I don’t know what else there is to say.”

  His big hands closed over her upper arms as he pulled her into him. His arms slid around her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. She listened to his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breathing. The cotton of his t-shirt was soft against her cheek, and she felt the scratch of the stubble on his chin against the top of her head. He always smelled like he just got out of the shower.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about it since she saw the security guards disarm her stalker: She could lose Zach. It had nothing to do with a breakup or a divorce. It had everything to do with the strong, vital man in her arms, and the thought that a bullet, a speeding car, or a plane crash could take him away from her permanently. He would be gone, and there would be nothing she could do to bring him back again.

  She’d thought she could live without him. She’d spent ten years telling herself that he didn’t matter, that the spark she felt when he was anywhere near wasn’t real. She would have laughed outright at any other woman who insisted that somehow she knew she’d met her twin soul after he spilled a beer on her in a crowded night club. Her spirit responded to what was inside him, too.

  His voice dropped. “He wasn’t getting past me.”

  “He had a gun.”

  She heard the emphasis in his voice. “He wasn’t getting past me. Does this happen a lot, Cameron?”

  “The network has security. Have I received mail and threats from stalkers? Yeah. Do I think about it every day? No. I wouldn’t leave the house if I did, let alone be able to do my job.” She let out a sigh. “I have to go downstairs and meet with Ben and the PSN group. I don’t want to.”

  She saw his lips purse in concern. “That’s convenient,” he said. His arms tightened around her. “The meeting was called off about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I don’t understand. How do you know this?”

  “Here’s the quote. ‘The Sharks and PSN have suspended the filming of Third and Long until further notice. Both organizations are strategizing security upgrades for players and coaches after this morning’s incident at Sharks headquarters.’ I was standing there when our GM read the statement on-camera. Plus, I told Ben you weren’t meeting with anyone but me for the rest of the day.” He snorted a little. “I think he wanted to ask if he could film us.”

  “I’m afraid PSN will fire me for being a security risk. This was a really close call,” she said. Film them doing what?

  “Nope,” he said. “Not gonna happen.”

  He hadn’t let go of her, and she made no move to step away from him. He was supposed to be mad at her. She was supposed to pretend like being so close to him didn’t make her heart pound, her palms sweaty, and bring back every memory she had of feeling safe and protected in his arms.

  “Do you boss everyone in your life around?”

  “Nobody but you, Cameron.”

  She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he nuzzled her hair. His hand slid to the side of her neck. He tipped her chin up with his thumb, and his lips brushed hers seconds later—the barest, most tender touch. Their breath mingled.

  Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she whispered, “You taste exactly the same.” She slid her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against his much scratchier one.

  “You smell the same.” He didn’t seem to mind that she’d flattened herself against him. Certain parts of him seemed to really like it. “You feel the same, too.”

  She worked her fingers into his hair and let out a contented sigh.

  “Darlin’?”

  “Mmhmm?”

  Seconds later, she heard the heavy footsteps of an unknown number of men outside of her door, and raised voices.

  “Where the hell is Anderson?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  “He’s going to be late to the meeting.”

  “Like he’s getting a fine for anything he screws up on for a while. The PR department practically has an orgasm every time his name is mentioned.”

  “I saw him headin
g up here a few minutes ago.”

  “He’s probably in his room.” The herd moved away from Cameron’s door and back toward Zach’s. Zach and Cameron heard pounding on a door and shouts of, “Anderson! Answer the door!”

  “Maybe he’s outside getting interviewed again. Isn’t it enough that he had Cameron Online? I’d like to talk to that babe from NFL Network, too.”

  Cameron could identify Drew’s voice from behind the shut door. “All you’ll have to do to get her attention is save her from a crazy stalker with a gun. Piece of cake.”

  She heard the rumble of Derrick’s voice. “Shit, yeah. No problemo.”

  “It doesn’t look like he’s home right now. Maybe he’s being interviewed by CNN or something.”

  “Do you know how much ass he’s going to get because of this? The women out there have totally forgotten about you, McCoy. They’re on his trail now.”

  Gales of masculine laughter and name-calling greeted that statement.

  Zach stepped away from her, but he still held her hand. He spoke softly enough that the guys weren’t going to hear him.

  “I gotta get out of here before the coach kicks my ass for being late. Take it easy. Eat the soup, will ya?” Zach said.

  “You can’t leave right now,” she said. “They’ll see you walking out of my room, and it will be on Twitter five minutes later.”

  “Uh, yeah.” He glanced around. “It’s too far up to climb out the window. Maybe they’ll give up and go elsewhere.”

  Of course, seconds later she heard Derrick’s voice again. “Let’s check in on Cameron. Maybe she needs some company.”

  ZACH DIDN’T WANT to leave Cameron’s room at all, or even spend five minutes away from her right now. The incident this morning had been a little too close for comfort. He had a few hurdles to jump before he got to the finish line with her, though, and he needed to talk with her about one of them as soon as possible.

  She felt the same, she smelled the same, she kissed the same, and goddammit, his feelings for her were the same. He wasn’t afraid of what her dad could do to him and his career anymore, either. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to his little sisters. He wanted another chance with her, and they weren’t going to approve. Even worse, they wouldn’t accept her. He loved his sisters, but they could really kick up a fuss when they weren’t happy about something.

  He was resisting throwing her on the bed in her room and tearing her clothes off with everything he had. If they were anywhere else, he would have done it. He wasn’t so sure being caught in her room right now was such a great idea, though, and he’d like to rekindle their relationship with as much privacy as possible.

  He heard a number of his teammates’ footfalls moving closer toward her room. He glanced around for somewhere to hide. Hiding places were thin on the ground at an NFL training camp. He’d be seen immediately if he got under her desk. There wasn’t a big enough gap between her bed and the floor to roll under there. It was the closet or her bathroom, and he made a split-second decision. He threw himself in her closet, pulling the door shut behind him.

  He heard several knocks at Cameron’s door, and she called out, “Who is it?”

  Like she didn’t know, but he had to smile. She wasn’t making it easy for them.

  “We have a meeting in a little while, but we’ve got some time to kill. Want to play Just Dance with us for a few minutes?”

  He’d bet five hundred bucks that game had never darkened the doors of the Sharks training facility, but it wasn’t like they were inviting her to play Madden with them. They probably thought a dancing game would appeal more to a female. He was willing to bet she didn’t play a lot of video games, but would choose something more challenging and action-packed like Halo or Grand Theft Auto if she did.

  “I’m a little tired.”

  “Come on, Cameron. We’ll have a good time,” Drew coaxed. “Open the door.”

  Through a crack in the closet door, he could see her turning the knob.

  “There she is,” Derrick said. “How are you, gorgeous?”

  Six guys invited themselves into her room. She looked a little embarrassed, but she smiled at them as they filed in.

  “I thought you guys were outside or something.”

  “We did some stretching. Practice was cancelled today. It isn’t the same when you’re not out there.” Zach was going to kick the ass of that rookie who kept flirting with her.

  “Awww. You’re sweet. Did you all have lunch?”

  “Yes. Are you hungry at all? We’ll get you something.”

  “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

  Drew nodded at the paper sack sitting on her desk. “It looks like someone dropped food off for you already.”

  “It’s some soup. I’ll eat it in a few minutes,” she said.

  Drew raised an eyebrow and looked toward the closet. “Have you seen Zach? We’re looking for him.”

  Zach could see the slight flush moving over her cheekbones. She didn’t look into Drew’s eyes, either. He’d better tell Cameron she might want to forget about playing poker—her “tells” when she was lying were pretty obvious. “I think he went downstairs to the meeting room.”

  Drew’s voice was silky. “Is that so? We’d better go track him down, then. Come on, ladies. Good to see you, Cam.”

  “It’s nice to see you all, too.” She watched the other guys file into the hallway. Drew seemed to be hesitating. Zach tried to move further into the closet, and ended up smacking into some shelves. It friggin’ hurt, and he couldn’t stifle the “Shit” he let out.

  Drew strode to the opposite side of the room, pulled the closet door open, and stared at him.

  “You suck at hiding, Anderson. I could see your ugly mug through the crack in the door. Get your ass out here. You’ll have to try to pick up on Cam later.”

  Zach was going to kill him. Slowly. Maybe he’d pull all that pretty blond hair out by the roots. McCoy wouldn’t get so many dates if he were bald.

  “C’mon, brother. Let’s go,” Drew said.

  Cameron patted Zach’s arm. “Thanks for the soup.”

  “Yeah. We’ll talk again later,” he said as he was being hustled out into the hallway.

  The rest of Zach’s day passed in a blur. He wanted some time with Cameron, but he knew she wasn’t going to be alone for the foreseeable future, and he had things to discuss with her he didn’t want to talk about in front of others. There were typically several meetings a day with the position coaches. He knew football fans would be amazed to learn that it wasn’t the on-field action that wore their asses out. He drank black coffee and ate handfuls of sunflower seeds to stay awake during mind-numbing discussions about the playbook and the endless hours of watching game film.

  He strolled out of the last meeting of the day to encounter Cameron’s co-worker, Kevin Adkins, leaning against the hallway wall. Kevin straightened up and stuck out his hand.

  “Good to see you, Anderson. How are you doing after this morning’s adventure?”

  Kevin had retired from San Francisco’s team four years ago after a ten-year career as a wide receiver. Zach imagined that most people would think they’d have something to talk about as a result, which would be wrong. He’d never been much of a fan. Kevin was a loudmouth and a show-off. Most of the guys who played with or against him wanted nothing to do with him. Zach wasn’t interested, either.

  Zach shrugged a massive shoulder. “Fine. Maybe you should ask Cameron Ondine how she’s doing instead.”

  Kevin tried to look concerned. “I haven’t seen her all day. Plus, PSN thinks that this all might be too much strain for her. They’ve asked me to take on some of her interviews. I’d love to sit down with you and get a few comments on tape.”

  Zach edged away from him. “Maybe later.” He didn’t want to give the guy an interview, especially since he knew Cameron was perfectly capable of handling her job. He also had a voicemail full of other sportscasters that had already asked. He knew if Kevin sc
ooped her, he would be hammering on Cameron’s dorm door as quickly as he could to crow about it, too. What an ass.

  “We’re going live in an hour or so. I’d love to get an exclusive.”

  “No, thanks, Kevin.”

  He started to walk away, and Kevin stopped him in his tracks.

  “I have three separate reports that you were seen in Cameron’s dorm room this afternoon. Care to comment?”

  Zach stopped mid-step, and pivoted to face the smirking Kevin. He pulled breath into his lungs. He realized his hands were forming into fists.

  “I can see you’re a little upset about this,” Kevin said.

  Zach stared him down. “Oh, not at all, Adkins. I’d have to actually care what you think to get upset, and truthfully, I don’t.” He let out another long breath. “I realize you believe that knifing your co-worker in the back will help you get ahead, but you seem to forget that everyone here likes her a hell of a lot more than they like you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get her airtime anyway.”

  Zach and Kevin stared at each other as Zach moved closer to him. Zach noticed the sheen of perspiration on Kevin’s upper lip. He almost laughed aloud as Kevin took a step back.

  Zach shook his head. “You’re not worth it.”

  He spun on his heel and walked away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  * * *

  ONE WEEK LATER Zach hit the remote for the security gate and turned into the driveway of his house. The sprawling ranch painted in neutral colors was bathed in late-afternoon sunlight. He smiled at the Elmo sprinkler on the front lawn. His sisters must have taken Butter out for some playtime in the water earlier. His grandma and sisters had no idea he was a few minutes away from the front door. He craved a little bit of home and his family’s routines the way some guys wanted an overnight at the Playboy Mansion.

  To everyone’s surprise, the Sharks head coach had given the players the evening off. He’d sleep in his own bed tonight. The first cuts were coming up next week, coinciding with the first preseason game. Even a few hours at home with his grandma, sisters, and Butter would do him a world of good.