by Frost, Sosie
“And the SD card?” he asked.
Jackass. “My camera is destroyed!”
“But what about the pictures?”
“I lost the SD card. It’s somewhere in a gutter in Gainesville now.”
“Goddamn it, Elle. How could you let this happen?”
“It’s not like I wanted my camera to get run over.” Or my career. “Look, this is risky enough. Maybe its karma or something? We shouldn’t be doing this, Peter. What if someone found me out?”
“Don’t let anyone find out.” His gaze hardened, the familiar blues now cold and calculating. “This is important, Elle. Fortunately, you should have enough money from your promotion to buy some new equipment.”
“Peter—”
“Maybe even your own eight hundred millimeter lens.”
My mouth dried. “That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar lens.”
“You’re doing twenty-thousand-dollar work.” He returned the hunk of camera to my bag. “With every risk comes a reward.”
“Elle!”
We both jumped. Lachlan jogged up the tunnel with a grin and a wink. The guys practiced in full-pads today, and Peter was smart to step-off when Lachlan got near. He might have grinned like a fool with dimples that’d charm the devil, but he was still a monster in his gear. My goofball was more than capable of cracking Peter in two if he had a reason.
Lachlan dropped his helmet and grabbed my bag. “You know your camera’s broken?”
“Thanks, Charming. I’m well-aware.”
“What happened?”
Peter cleared his throat. “She was mugged.”
“Mugged?” Lachlan’s voice rose. I so didn’t need this lie getting out to the team. I couldn’t be the naked, sultry vixen and damsel in distress. Their heads would explode. “Jesus, Elle!”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “No one got hurt.”
Those sea-foam eyes were too green—intense, protective, playful. Lachlan played the charming prince and mischievous rogue all rolled into one hyper-active superhero.
“I should have known better than to keep the camera out on a sketchy street,” I said.
“This sucks.” Lachlan’s smile revealed otherwise. “No. You’ll get a new camera. Today.”
I turned, hiding my face from Peter’s view. “I’m handling it, Lachlan.”
“So am I. You tell me what camera you use, and I’ll get it for you. Right now.”
I couldn’t get him involved in this. “I have it covered. Insurances and things.”
“Nope. You’re my wife, and I’m buying you a new camera.”
Oh Lord. “It’s okay. Seriously.”
He rummaged through the bag, peeking at the broken equipment. “Let me do this for you. It couldn’t have cost that much. A couple grand? That’s pocket change for me, Red.”
Peter patted my shoulder. “Elle, the first rule of a happy marriage—always take money your husband offers.” He tried to joke, but I didn’t laugh. “The pictures are gone, but the camera isn’t as irreplaceable. You’ll need a new one soon.” He smiled at Lachlan. “Besides, everyone helps everyone else on the team. Remember that.”
Peter shouldered his bag and hustled to the team as they began warm-ups. Lachlan waited with me. I didn’t mind seeing him so early in the morning, but his butt should have been on the field ten minutes ago, especially as a rookie who had fallen from Coach Thompson’s good graces.
“Problem solved,” Lachlan said. “Don’t fight me, Elle. I’m trying to do something nice.”
“I appreciate it, but—”
“And since you won’t tell me what really happened with the camera…indulge me.”
I stilled. How the hell did he know? What did he know?
“What you mean, what really happened?”
“Just seems strange, those dangerous Gainesville streets. You catching a mugger and then losing the camera anyway?”
I crossed my arms “Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”
Lachlan expertly dodged the question. “Listen to us, bickering like an old married couple instead of newlyweds who haven’t seen each other in two days.”
I headed to the field. “You need to stop saying we’re married.”
“What if I like calling you my wife?”
“Then you’re either being cute…or suffering delusions of grandeur.”
“Fight me all you want, Elle…” He took my hand and ignored the whistles summoning the players to the field. The sun glistened off his blonde hair and the line of stubble on his chin. “But you like me. You can’t deny it.”
“I’ve already promised you a second date.”
“But you haven’t said those three magic words.”
“Temporary Restraining Order?”
“Run all you like, but you’ve seen my time on the forty. I’ll catch you soon enough, and then you’ll have to admit what you feel.”
I wished my heart hadn’t thudded so hard, fierce and raging. That damn adrenaline he loved so much was drowning me in my own fluttering panic.
Why did he have to look so sexy in his pads and uniform?
“What do you think I feel for you?” I asked.
“Utter enchantment.”
“Your nickname shouldn’t be Charming—I should call you Conceited.”
“I’m taking you out on our day off.” He wasn’t asking me. “Clear your Tuesday. I’ve got something perfect planned. You’re going to love it as much as you love me.”
“Setting the bar kinda low, aren’t you?”
Lachlan didn’t ask permission. He pulled me close, crushing me against his pads for a kiss. I should have fought him off, but his lips brushed me for only a moment before they were gone.
“Just wait, Red. I got some magic planned for you yet.”
He left me on the sidelines, sprinting to the field as Coach Thompson flipped shit. Lachlan didn’t stay with the team—he owed the coach a lap around the field at full speed for being late.
Idiot boy.
Sexy man.
Unwanted complication.
He shouldn’t have made me feel better. I still shook with rage and fear and painful betrayal, but Lachlan had calmed me. I could think a bit more logically. And I formed a plan for putting out the giant fire that was my life.
First, I’d do everything I could to build a case against the Rivets that didn’t implicate anyone innocent. Emails. Files. Pictures. Conversations. Everything documented and completely transparent.
And then I’d plan for my next date with Lachlan.
One down, two to go.
He still thought he could make me fall for him in three nights.
It was crazy…but I’d started to hope he was right.
10
Lachlan
“You want me to do…what?”
Elle was gorgeous when surprised. Her eyes widened and her voice wavered with that innocent quiver that practically whispered good girls don’t do this.
I leaned in close. Encouraging her. Teasing her. “Come on, Red. I think you’re gonna like this.”
“It’s a little too…adventurous.”
“Nothing to be afraid of. It’s just us. Together. Sweating. Pumping.” I took a chance, nibbling her bottom lip. “I promise you’ll be wet.”
“But it’s so dangerous.”
“We’ll use protection.”
She hesitated. “But what if the rubber breaks?”
“Never had it break on me yet.”
“Are you sure I can stroke good enough?”
“You won’t let me down.”
“And if I go end over end?”
“At least I’ll get a good look at you.”
Elle arched an eyebrow out the car window. She wasn’t impressed with the riverside town, but I’d heard amazing things about the rapids in this area.
“You’ve really never white-water rafted before?” I asked.
“I’ve always tried to avoid slamming my head on razor sharp rocks.”
&nb
sp; “What a coincidence!” I pushed her out of the car. “That’s the whole point of rafting. You’re a natural. A match made in Heaven with the other people in our boat.”
“Excellent. We can all share the elevator up to the Pearly Gates when we drown.”
Elle stretched, and I enjoyed every second of her curves on display. It took a two-hour car ride to get here, but I blocked the whole morning and afternoon for a river adventure she’d never forget.
“The rapids here aren’t too rough,” I said. “I’m starting you off easy.”
Elle searched the wilderness surrounding the river. The trading post rented bikes and organized tours from a path leading into the hills. Granted, it wasn’t like trekking the Yukon, especially with the McDonalds a quarter-mile back, but the air was clean, sun warm, and the whole valley smelled of sweet pine and adventure.
Elle was up for a challenge, though she preferred to stay away from the danger. Her camera hadn’t left her hands the entire drive up, begging me to pull over so she could get pictures of the trees, the sunrise, a damn garbage can with a bottle broken next to it that she decided was a great illustration of the human condition.
At least she liked the camera. Made the astronomical price tag almost worth it.
She snapped a picture of the warning sign in front of the outfitters, detailing every which way someone could lose their limb or life on the river.
“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?” Elle asked.
“My contract says nothing about rafting.”
“I think you’re supposed to read between the lines on extreme sports. What if something happens? What if you get hurt and can’t play? You might not get another chance.”
“Come on, Red,” I groaned. “We’re supposed to be having fun. Stop worrying about the team.”
“I always worry about the team. I have to. And so should you.”
“I do, but this is just a little boat ride. I wanted to bring you out here. I needed a break, and what better way to enjoy my day off than by spending it in the company of a beautiful woman?”
“Suave,” she said.
“I’m trying to give you the best date of your life so you can give me the best night of mine.”
“Not so suave.”
“Points for honesty?”
She laughed. “Believe me. I know how badly you want to sleep with me.”
“The plan isn’t to sleep. I’m gonna rock your world.”
“Rock my boat is more like it.”
I grinned. “That’s the spirit!”
I wouldn’t beg her to raft with me, and I wasn’t going to force her, but I needed to do this. Something fun and wild. A couple hours of pulse-pumping, muscle-rending fun that I could use to forget how fucking terrible I was doing at training camp.
I’d rather face some Class III rapids than another red-faced coach, hurdling linebacker, misread route, or blown catch.
Except the outpost felt a little strange. No groups waited for their turn with a guide. No tourists took pictures. No little vendors selling ice cream and t-shirts. No music. No people.
Just one particularly surprised middle-aged woman enjoying her never-ending game of Candy Crush. She lowered the phone as we approached.
“Hi, folks!” She pointed to the stack of over-sized inner-tubes behind her. “Ready for some relaxing river tubing?”
Elle got excited. “You have tubing?”
“Yes, ma’am. A leisurely, four-hour trip down the river, with a shuttle service to pick you up at the end. Even has some complementary ice cream waiting for you on the trip back.”
“Wait.” I pointed to the calendar on her wall, proudly displaying a raft with six people battling their way through rocks and white caps. “Tubing? What about the rapids?”
“Oh, honey.” She laughed, snapping a piece of gum between her teeth. “Haven’t had any rapids for two years now. Whole region’s had a bit of a drought and some odd weather. No rapids now. Just a slow and steady float down the river. Perfect for the elderly or children!”
“Aw, we should have brought Bast,” Elle said.
No. This was all wrong. “Look, there has to be rapids somewhere.”
“Best I can tell you is to travel down to Maryland or up to New York. Weather changes have affected us all. The rapids used to be a big tourist draw here, but now…we tube! I can also rent you bikes if you like. There’s a lot of trails.”
Elle pointed at me. “No bikes. You’ll jump right off a cliff. The tubing sounds great.”
I nearly swore. “I wanted rapids, Elle. This was supposed to be something fun.”
“Tubing sounds fun. You’re not getting a do-over on this one, Mr. Reed. Are you in or out?”
She dropped her bag and peeled off her shirt to reveal a deliciously wicked, vibrantly purple bikini top. The violet material caressed her curves with an almost vulgar modesty. Her dark skin complimented the decorative beading, shimmering across good and perfect in the sunshine.
She took a tube from the clerk. “You coming, Lachlan?”
“Not if I think about baseball.”
“Get in a tube before I drown you.”
I paid for the event—including an extra inner tube to carry an overpriced cooler and her photography supplies as the river had to have some beautiful landscapes to shoot.
The clerk showed us to the cement ramp loading us into the river. Elle squealed as she fell backwards into the tube and paddled off the shore. The most excitement I’d get was nearly toppling out of the tube and into the clear water.
And we were off.
At a breakneck speed of stationary.
But Elle seemed to love it. She relaxed in the tube and sighed, letting the sun warm her already toasted body. She kicked her toes—painted the same coral purple as her bikini.
Was she really content to let the river carry her in this fucking monotony?
“How long is this trip?” I asked.
“She said four hours.”
“And how long have we been in the water?”
Elle peeked open her eyes. She pointed behind me, to the little bend in the river that was only now hiding the trading post.
“Five minutes.”
I groaned. This was a disaster.
No rapids. No water falls. No unknowingly deep water crawling with sharp-tooth fish.
No parachutes. No harnesses. Hell, no tattoo parlors for twenty miles.
What was I supposed to do for four hours when we weren’t even sharing the same damn tube?
She snapped a picture of me. Apparently the river was tame enough for her to trust grabbing her brand new camera to document my misery.
“Smile, Lachlan.” She snapped another picture. “Say relaxation.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You know what your problem is?”
“Tell me.”
“You think it’s going to kill you to sit still for a few minutes. This will do you good. Haven’t you ever just relaxed before?”
She was unaware that holding her camera near her chest squeezed her tits until they nearly spilled from the bikini.
I chuckled. “You think I can relax this close to a half-naked woman?”
“You promised me fun today. Well guess what, Charming. This is fun.”
“There’s only two things I do laying down. One is sleep. And the other?” I sucked in a breath. “You’re a little too far away to partake in that adventure.”
Elle was mischievous when four feet of gentle, sun-warmed river separated us. “From what I can remember…you didn’t lie down that much.”
My cock twitched. “I live to serve. Want me to prove it?”
“Can’t we just enjoy this beautiful day?”
“I’d rather enjoy you.”
“This really is bothering you, isn’t it?” She giggled. “You need that daredevil excitement.”
“I don’t like being bored.” I splashed the water. “This is boring. Tits are not. Off with the suit.”
“You don’t like to be bored,” she said. “Or sit still. Or be serious. Those, dear husband, are the clues to a greater mystery.”
“You don’t need a magnifying glass to examine anything on me, Red.”
“I bet…you have to keep moving. You need something to do. You keep finding bigger adventures to undertake because otherwise…you sit down and start thinking.”
“I know the joke is that all football players are idiots,” I said. “And it’s mostly true. But my brain does fire off a neuron between loads.”
“I never said you were dumb. But you don’t like to confront whatever it is that you think about when you aren’t drowning in rapids or jumping out of a plane.”
I stroked a hand through the water. It didn’t paddle me closer, just spun me in a circle. At least that was more entertaining than her dissecting my psyche.
Or admitting she was right.
I shrugged. “Guys aren’t that difficult to read. You don’t have to try so hard.”
“Not you…” She teased me with a smile. “You might have those charming dimples and puppy-dog excitement, but you’re hiding something more to you. Something deeper.”
“Like what?”
She snapped another picture of me, but the camera lowered slowly as she examined me. “I’m not sure yet. But no man runs off and gets married to a random stranger when his number one priority is family.”
“Blame it on the tequila.”
“Why did you marry me?”
I caught her foot as I spun, dragging her tube closer to mine. “Can’t we just agree both of us had a little too much to drink?”
“I think we were at the bar, and we were both upset.”
Damn. She was remembering more and more. I reached into the cooler floating beside us. She wanted a water, but I needed a beer for this conversation.
She arched an eyebrow. “What could possibly upset the carefree Lachlan Reed so much that he’d drink away his troubles at the bar with a stranger?”
Fuck me. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? “An ex-girlfriend had called me, right before the combine started. I guess she saw my name flash on Sports Nation and thought she’d try her luck.”
