He trotted over to the huge box of Sharpies that the PR department put out each afternoon after practice and grabbed a couple of them. He caught a glimpse of Cameron inside the facility. She appeared to be scribbling on her iPad, while Earphones One and Two tried to blend into the woodwork again. He stared at her until she glanced up, grinned at him, and went back to what she was doing.
He had a surprise for her. It took an outrageous number of phone calls, making a side arrangement with Earphones One and Two, and promising Cameron’s boss he’d play in the network’s charity pro-am golf tournament next year during the offseason, but he hoped things would go off without a hitch. He wondered if she’d read his text yet.
CAMERON HEARD A tremendous cheer from the practice field. She had been told the coach was giving the team twenty-four hours off to rest and relax before the final preparations for their second pre-season game in Oakland. She sent Logan out to Autograph Alley to film a few of the rookies signing this morning, with a special emphasis on Grant Parker, the Sharks’ latest QB prospect. She would have to reschedule tomorrow’s interview with him for later in the day, which might be a challenge. Everyone else wanted an interview with him, too. He was a first round draft pick that the organization hoped would be the heir to their All-Pro gunslinger Tom Reed in a few years. Most Sharks fans greeted Grant’s arrival in Seattle with cautious optimism. He was the Sharks’ third try to bring in a kid smart enough to listen and learn from someone who was winning high school and college championships while Grant was still in Pull Ups.
Grant seemed to have it all: articulate, friendly, and handsome, he had a blemish-free personal life, a rocket for an arm, and he was smart and fast enough to scramble out of the pocket at will. It was Cameron’s job to find out if the too good to be true twenty-two year old was really all that.
Her phone chirped with an incoming text, but this one vibrated as well: Urgent. She pulled it out of her pocket to check.
I’LL PICK YOU UP IN AN HOUR AND A HALF. BRING A TOOTHBRUSH. ZACH
She clicked on the attached photo. She saw a covered wooden porch-style balcony with comfortable-looking wooden chairs weathered to light gray and an equally-weathered table for two. The balcony’s view was of serene water and blue skies. She had a million and one things to do today between another taping of her show and dealing with the continuing filming of Third and Long, but she wondered where Zach’s balcony was and how long it would take them to get there.
She was still scribbling notes on her iPad when she heard the click-clack of football cleats on flooring. She heard Zach’s voice: low, sensual, and for her ears alone.
“I’ll be out of the shower and dressed in half an hour.”
The mental images that phrase produced made her blush. She’d been in the shower with Zach before, but it had been a while. Maybe he’d learned a few more moves. She wasn’t going to think about where—and with whom—he’d learned whatever he had in the past ten years, but she was fairly sure she’d enjoy them.
“That’s nice to know,” she said.
His lips moved into a confident grin. His eyes twinkled. “Why don’t you go grab your toothbrush and a change of clothes? I’ll pick you up at your door.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He sauntered away before she could tell him that she had a ton of work, that it wasn’t like she could just leave, that she had to reschedule her interview with Grant, that she . . .
She needed to get a life.
The Sharks’ training camp facility wasn’t unpleasant. The food was good, the room was comfortable, and she wasn’t unhappy. The shows being filmed here were setting ratings records, despite her colleagues’ continual mocking of the Zach and Cameron content. At the same time, she longed for a few hours of relaxation. She hadn’t had a day off since she got here. She’d ended up having to fire Kacee for absenteeism a week ago, so she was handling all the details herself, like scheduling interviews and dealing with the production staff. She’d also like some time alone with Zach.
Ambition warred with sheer exhaustion. She set her own schedule, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t get any time off if she needed a day. If that balcony in the picture was anywhere near, she wanted to go there, even if she knew she had to be back first thing in the morning.
She grabbed her phone one more time, pulled up the contact information for PSN’s production staff, and tapped in I’M ON ASSIGNMENT. I’LL SEE YOU ALL TOMORROW MORNING.
Her phone rang less than five minutes later. She hit the answer button and held it up to her ear. “This is Cameron,” she said.
“Have a great time,” her producer Ralph said. “We’ll see you tomorrow, chica.”
Cameron raced to her room and threw a change of clothes, underwear, and some toiletries into the Birkin bag her mother insisted she couldn’t live without. She upended the contents of the bag she typically carried inside the Birkin, too. Maybe her mother thought that carrying a twenty thousand dollar handbag big enough to function as an overnight bag was a good thing. One of the additional benefits of carrying a big-ass bag: She wasn’t advertising to everyone in the dorm and team facilities that she was planning on an overnight stay elsewhere.
She stepped out of her high heels and into a pair of flats. She locked her iPad in the room safe. She was fairly sure nobody would steal it, but after the unpleasantness with Kacee, it was always good to be careful.
Speaking of “safe,” Cameron dug through her suitcase for the box of condoms buried under the still-rumpled clothes she’d never quite unpacked. As always, it was the single—in her case, divorced—woman’s conundrum: Bring them, and let Zach know she was a sure thing, or forget them and end up either declining or on a frantic hunt for a drugstore at some ungodly hour. She hadn’t slept with every guy that offered over the past ten years, but she’d slept with enough to know that Zach was the best she’d ever had. She’d like more.
She stuffed them into the bottom of the Birkin.
A minute or so later she heard a knock on the door and Zach’s voice: “You ready?”
“Not quite yet.”
“Open the door, will you?” She could hear many heavy, running footsteps in the hallway, and she heard Drew’s voice, too.
“Cam, you’d better get your pretty little ass out here, or I’m going with him.”
Zach had devised a method of getting out of the building that bypassed the media still hanging around, his teammates, coaches, and everyone else that might find it interesting that he and Cameron were obviously leaving together. It was really nobody’s business where they were off to, but she knew Ben would think differently.
Fifteen minutes later she and Zach were in the back seat of a black SUV with tinted windows, and Earphone One was driving.
“Where are we going?” she asked for the fifth time.
“You’ll find out.” Zach leaned forward and patted Earphone Two on the shoulder. “We have a reservation at the ferry dock both ways, so we just get in line.”
“Got it,” Earphone Two said.
“The ferry dock?”
Zach reached out for her hand. “The ferry dock.” He looked amused. “You seem a little stressed, Cameron. Let’s try something I learned from yoga class. Take a deep breath, hold it until the count of eight, and release that breath.”
She concentrated on lowering her voice. Earphone One and Earphone Two did not need to hear everything she had to say. “We only have twenty-four hours. I blew off everything I had to do today, but I can’t do that tomorrow. I have to—”
He captured her chin in his fingertips. He brushed his lips over her mouth. The temperature in the car shot up twenty degrees in ten seconds or so. He stroked a gentle fingertip down her nose.
“I have things I have to do tomorrow, too, like make the football team. We’ll be back in plenty of time. Right now, though, I have you all to myself for a few hours, and I’d like to enjoy them.”
ZACH’S PREPARATIONS HAD paid off in a big way. They arrive
d at the dock in record time. Late morning and mid-week turned out to be the ideal time to take a ferry to Whidbey Island.
“Have you been on a ferry before?” he asked her.
“In New York.” Cameron grinned at him. “It probably isn’t any different.”
“Sure, it is. You’re with me. Let’s get out and go stand at the bow,” he said. He took her hand as they wove amongst the parked cars together. He took deep breaths of the fresh air and salt water spray as they advanced on Whidbey. It was a perfect, gorgeous sunny day in the Seattle area, and he was with a woman that made the day pale in comparison. He knew one of the earphones was close by, but nobody else approached them as they stood wrapped in each other’s arms.
Earphones One and Two also proved to be adept with programming an address into the car’s GPS. Zach and Cameron arrived at the Inn at Langley a short time after the ferry docked on Whidbey Island.
The Inn at Langley was secluded, private, and offered a 180-degree view of Saratoga Passage, a peaceful waterway. There was a beach steps from the building. Zach couldn’t wait to get out there with a blanket, a bottle of wine, and Cameron.
“Zach, this is gorgeous,” she breathed. She glanced around eagerly as she grabbed her huge handbag off the floor of the car. The bag was big and sturdy enough to double as a weapon.
“I hoped you’d like it,” he said. “Let’s go get checked in.” He opened the door for her to precede him into the lobby. Earphones One and Two would be enjoying a day on Whidbey Island as well. Zach was fairly certain they wouldn’t have a lot to do. Maybe they could practice incapacitating someone with a paper clip or something.
MINUTES LATER, ZACH and Cameron were shown to a luxurious guest suite with an unobstructed view of sky and water through panoramic windows that took her breath away. The sitting area featured a cozy-looking couch, a wood-burning fireplace, a flat-screen TV and a table perfect for two. Cameron saw a window seat on one side of the doors opening out onto the balcony that would be great to snuggle into on a stormy day.
The bedroom was dominated by a queen-sized bed made with sumptuous white linens, a down comforter, and fluffy pillows. The bathroom had a soaking tub built for two. The porch-style balcony was the thing that drew her, however. She dropped her bag on the floor next to the couch and walked out to take a look.
“Zach, you have to see this,” she called out to him. She turned to see him grabbing the bottle of Chateau Ste. Michelle Eroica Riesling out of an ice bucket, along with two glasses and a corkscrew, and heading out to her.
Cameron’s parents could afford the finest of everything in life. She made a great living, too. She didn’t want for much, and if she saw something she needed, she bought it without a second thought. She’d been some pretty wonderful places in her life, too, and stayed in some of the greatest hotels in the world. This was better than anyplace else she’d ever been before. The combination of rustic, cozy charm, the quiet, and the beautiful view was irresistible. She’d just gotten here, and she knew she was coming back again as soon as possible.
Maybe it was the company.
She glanced around at 180 degrees of blue skies and water. Zach gestured to the weather-beaten pair of lounge chairs on the balcony. “Sit with me?”
“Absolutely.”
The wine was cool, crisp, and refreshing on a summer’s day. She leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on the conveniently placed footstool. Zach moved his chair closer to hers, and reached out for her hand. He sprawled back in his chair, too, crossing his feet at the ankles.
They absorbed the view for a few minutes. He took another sip of wine and put his glass down on the small, low table between them. She glanced over at him.
“The hotel’s chef made a picnic for us. Want to go to the beach with me?” His smile melted her heart.
She took another sip of wine as she nodded. The stuff was great. She tasted peaches, a hint of lime, and a burst of subtle sweetness. She tried to remember when wine had tasted so wonderful, when the air had smelled so fresh, and when holding any man’s hand had made her heart beat rat-a-tat-tat.
She’d felt the same way ten years ago in the desert outside of Las Vegas. This time, she wanted it to last. She couldn’t bear to let him go again.
“Let’s have some more wine first,” she said.
“We don’t have to leave, you know. We can have our picnic right here.”
“It’s good to have an option.”
He picked up his glass again and touched it to hers. “To options,” he said. He held her eyes, and he didn’t look away as he sipped. She sipped, too.
Putting her glass down, she got to her feet and moved to stand between Zach’s spread knees. Holding his gaze, she perched on his thighs. He scooped her legs up and settled her against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, “Do we ever have to leave?”
“Not tonight, darlin’. Not tonight.”
CAMERON’S HALF-LYING AGAINST him was worth every bit of effort it took to get them out here for twenty-four hours.
“This is perfect,” she said.
“It could be this perfect all the time, Cameron,” he said. He rested his cheek against the top of her head. It was go big or go home, and he had no intention of going home without her again. “Stay with me.”
He felt her let out another long breath. Her arms tightened around him.
“What happens when we go back?” she said. “Your sisters don’t like me. My dad’s going to ratchet things up. I still have to work with people who are mad at me for firing Kacee and think I shouldn’t be involved with you, and I need another assistant.”
“My sisters will come around. Do you care that your colleagues mouth off to you about being involved with me?”
She peered up at him, and he saw her mouth curve into a smile.
“Truthfully?” He felt her exhale. He also felt the tension draining slowly from her. “Nope.” He’d like to ask her about it. He’d like to ask her about a lot of things. Right now, though, he had another agenda.
“We’ll talk about how we’ll make it work. I promise.” She gave him a squeeze in response.
“It’s a miracle anyone gets together, isn’t it? Don’t all these people focusing on us have something else to do?”
“That’s their problem,” he said. “I’d rather concentrate on you.” He nuzzled her temple, which won him a breathy little laugh. She kissed the side of his neck. He had to kiss her again.
Her mouth was soft, cool, and tasted like the wine they’d been drinking. He felt her tongue slide against his, and she moaned a little. The party in his pants was definitely on.
“Let’s make out,” she whispered, and he had to laugh.
He held her against him with one arm while he slid his other hand over her belly, under her top, and cupped her breast. He felt her nipple harden against his hand. The breeze blew strands of her hair over his face. He could smell the shampoo she used, the clean scent of cotton clothes, and the lilies and musk scent she had been wearing since the first time he held her. It still drove him crazy.
They didn’t have to worry about anything at all for the next twenty hours or so. Nobody was asking for an autograph. They were safe from crazed stalkers, his teammates and coaches, her co-workers at PSN, and both of their families. They had food, wine, a cozy bed behind a locked door, and each other.
The sun bathed them in light and warmth. The scent of salt water mixed pleasantly with the wine in their glasses. Things were amazing.
She pulled her mouth off his and straddled him, scooting up to rock against him. Her soft palms flattened against his abs, sliding her hands up and taking the polo shirt he wore with them.
“You don’t need this right now,” she said.
She pulled it over his head, dropped it onto the floor beneath them, and bent her head to swirl her tongue around one of his nipples, pulling it into her mouth. She suckled him. He almost came in his pants.
“Cameron,” he rasped.
“Mmm?”
He saw a flush rise over her cheekbones, but he loved her sweet boldness with him.
She teased his now-hard nipples with gentle fingers as she leaned forward to kiss him again. He didn’t think it was possible, but he felt himself get even harder.
He brushed the hair out of her eyes, and drank in the half-lidded look of desire on her face. She wanted him. He wanted her, too. He shoved himself off the chair, wrapping his arms around her bottom and carrying her inside to the neatly-made bed.
He gave the glass door leading out to the balcony a nudge with one foot as they passed. They were three floors up, still kissing. Their clothing flew as they undressed each other.
The mid-afternoon sun spilled onto Cameron’s nakedness. She speared her fingers into his hair, twining her arms around his neck. His fingers were a little busy, too, as they roamed over the body he was getting reacquainted with. She was thinner than ten years ago. He felt muscle built by workouts, but her skin was sun-kissed and even softer than he remembered. He pulled her into him with both hands.
“Cameron,” he said. He was already breathing hard. She was, too. He tossed her on the bed and followed her down. She let out a sexy little laugh as she bounced a bit on the mattress beneath them. She wound her legs around his hips as she took his face into her hands. Their tongues slipped, stroked, and twined around each other.
She pulled her legs higher around his hips. She slipped her arms around his neck again and ground her pelvis against his. It was his turn to groan.
She yanked her lips off of his long enough to say, “Will you think I’m a really huge slut if I tell you there’s a new box of condoms in my bag?”
He suckled one of her nipples and she arched against him. He slipped his fingers through the moisture between her legs and slid one finger inside of her. She gasped. He had to smile.
Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel Page 19
