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Authors: Tracy Solheim

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Sports, #Mystery & Detective, #Police Procedural

Risky Game (11 page)

BOOK: Risky Game
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This was the tricky part. Julianne would happily help Shannon pick out clothes, in fact, she’d revel in it. But executing the second part of his plan was more delicate and Julianne’s help was crucial for it to work.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could speak with you alone a minute.”

All four pairs of eyes homed in on him. Julianne’s and Carly’s were intrigued. Devlin’s, not so much. And Connelly’s—the master of the caveman persona—were wary.

“I thought we were through with you having private conversations with my wife!”

Julianne patted her husband on the chest. “Down boy.” She got to her feet, lifting Owen off Brody’s lap. “Come on, Brody. We can discuss your girl problems upstairs while I get this little one in his pajamas.”

He stood to follow her, wondering when he’d become so easy to read. He hadn’t mentioned Shannon or any other woman when he’d called.

“I warned you to be nice to Shay, Brody.” Connelly narrowed his eyes at him.

“The team took a vote,” Devlin teased. “If you two break up, it’s you who has to leave. How’s she at running a fade route?”

Brody flipped them both off as he climbed the narrow stairs leading up to the loft’s bedroom. Julianne laid Owen down on the changing table and began to undress the squirming baby. “Tell me what this is all about, Brody, before Will comes charging up here.” She smiled smugly to herself. “Not that I mind when he throws around the testosterone.”

Jeez Louise. This entire night was chock-full of TMI.
Brody sat on the corner of the king-sized bed his teammate undoubtedly used to
throw his testosterone around
in before springing back to his feet to pace the room.

“You know my sister is getting married next weekend,” he began.

“Of course I do, Brody. I designed her gown, remember?” She eyed him quizzically from over her son’s naked belly. “Will and I are guests, too. The inn is supposed to be gorgeous.” She kissed Owen’s feet. “And this little guy is going to stay with Grandma and Hank.”

Damn. How did he not know that? Probably because he didn’t give a crap who his sister invited to her wedding. Except all the single women queued up to dance with him. As if the weekend wouldn’t be awkward enough. He and Shannon would not only have his family to convince they were dating, but his über-observant teammate as well.

Brody shoved a hand through his hair. “Perfect. Listen, I was wondering if you could help out my date.”

Julianne’s hands stilled, half the snaps of the baby’s onesie undone. “Your mom said you weren’t bringing a date.”

He stopped his pacing, dumbfounded that his mother was discussing this with more people than just his sisters. “Well I am bringing a date,” he said a little too defensively.

Julianne tsked at him, resuming her task. “You need to let your mother know. There’s a lot that goes into planning a wedding, Brody. Last-minute surprises won’t be appreciated.”

Brody processed her reprimand, making a mental note to text his mother later that night. “Got it. Now, will you help me?”

Handing him the now fussy baby, she disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the diaper and wash her hands. “Of course I will, Brody. But who’s the lucky girl?”

“Her name is Shannon. She’s a grad student who works for the team.”

Julianne’s face registered her surprise as she came out of the bathroom drying her hands on a towel. “So the girl from the cafeteria really
is
your girlfriend?”

He sank back down on the corner of the bed, cradling Owen who gummed the ear of a stuffed bunny. “We’re involved.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Still, he kept his eyes on the baby rather than meet Julianne’s shrewd ones.

“I thought you gave up on casual flings? You said you wanted to find a girl who
gets
you?”

Brody wasn’t sure if it was the sweet smell of a sleepy baby in his arms or the unabashed happiness and desire he’d witnessed between his friends, but he suddenly felt as if he were suffocating. He wanted something except he didn’t know what that something was. “It’s gonna be hard to find a woman who gets me if I don’t even get myself,” he blurted out.

“Oh, Brody,” Julianne whispered.

The concern in her eyes frustrated him even more. He jiggled the whimpering baby. “Look can you just help me, please? For some reason she’s hung up on what to wear to the wedding. Can you help her out? Take her shopping.”

Understanding dawned on Julianne’s face. “Of course I can. We can go to the local discount shops and find something perfect that will fit into her budget.”

“No.” Brody shook his head. “Not discount. I want her to have the best. I’m paying. Deck her out in whatever she’ll need for the weekend. Head to toe.”

Julianne’s mouth gaped open.

“I want her to be comfortable, Julianne. To not feel . . . ashamed of anything.”

A rapturous smile lit up her face and Brody felt like a hypocrite. Yeah, he was blackmailing Shannon into going with him to his sister’s wedding, but he did want her to feel good about herself. He wanted to see those whiskey eyes relaxed and shining with happiness.

Julianne patted him on the head. “Brody Janik, you are a sweet, sweet man.”

“Well, keep that in mind because I have a second favor to ask and it’s a lot more delicate.”

Taking the baby from his arms, she pressed a pacifier into Owen’s mouth. “Well, you’ve just given me carte blanche with your credit cards. I guess I can handle one more favor.”

Twelve

Shay sat with Emma
Richardson in the nearly deserted commissary of the practice facility, the girl’s chemistry homework spread out on the table. The rest of the building was a beehive of activity as the players and staff prepared to board the buses that would take them to the team’s charter flight to Cleveland later that morning.

“Are you going to the game, too?” Emma asked.

Shay shook her head. “I think my trip to Boston was a one-time thing.”

She didn’t realize Nate was standing behind her until he spoke. “You got that right. That trip was before I knew about you and Janik being an item. You’re benched now, Shannon. I can’t risk you fraternizing with one of the star players in the hotel. He needs to be focused on the game.”

“Why don’t you worry about your own job and stop harassing Shannon about hers, Dumas.”

All three of them jumped as Brody and Shane Devlin stood behind the trainer, both men with their game faces on.

“I’m not harassing her, Brody. I’m just doing my job as her supervisor to ensure she sticks to her assigned duties. As far as I know, sleeping with the players isn’t in an intern’s job description.”

Shane Devlin’s legendary reflexes weren’t underrated. His arm was out and restraining Brody before Shay could bat an eye.

“If you want to leave this room with all your teeth in your head, Dumas,” the quarterback said, his tone brokering no argument, “go find the rest of your staff to supervise. I’m pretty sure this is Shay’s day off.”

Nate smirked at the two players. “Unlike you players who only have yourselves to look after, I have a staff of twenty to supervise and to keep out of any hanky-panky. It’s a lot harder than it looks. I don’t tell you how to do your job, Devlin. Don’t tell me how to do mine.”

Brody mumbled something profane as he took another step toward the trainer. Nate put his hands up. “Save the testosterone for the field, fellas. I’m out.”

Shane didn’t remove his forearm from Brody’s chest until Nate was clear of the commissary.

“That prick’s really starting to piss me off,” Brody said.

“Yeah, too bad he’s the best trainer in the league or none of us would be able to put up with him.” Shane walked over and kissed his niece, Emma, on the top of her head.

“He’s a turd, Uncle Shane,” Emma giggled.

“I’ll second that,” Brody said, oozing his wicked charm at the teenager. “Emma, can I borrow your tutor a moment?”

Emma nodded, her face spellbound by the impact of Brody’s smile.

The power of Brody’s charm on people never ceased to amaze Shay. As they made their way out of earshot, she felt her own heart speed up. The Blaze dress code required that players travel in their Sunday best and Brody cut a fine picture dressed in a charcoal designer suit and silk tie. His blue dress shirt made his eyes more vibrant. If clothes made the man, Brody would be ruling the world in his current state of dress.

The charming grin faded as he turned to speak with her. His eyes were weary and Shay couldn’t help but express concern. “Brody, is everything okay? Your blood sugar isn’t crazy again, is it?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m just annoyed at that . . . turd.” Laugh lines fanned out from his eyes and his mouth relaxed. “At least he’ll be with us, where he can’t bully you.”

Relieved, Shay stepped closer so as not to be overheard. “Don’t worry about me. Just make sure you stick to the schedule, eating what I wrote down for you every couple of hours, and you’ll be fine.”

The corners of his mouth turned up as his hands spanned her hips, pulling her closer. “Just in case, you’d better keep your phone with you at all times.”

Shay studied the perfect Windsor knot of his tie, her fingers resting on the soft wool of his suit jacket. Their bodies had once again unconsciously ended up only inches apart. “As long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

He sighed. “You’d just better hope it works, because I’m not doing this a second time.”

His fingertips slipped inside the waistband of her jeans and she released her own breathy sigh as he gently traced them along her skin.

Need coursed through Shay; the need to find the snitch so she could prove her innocence. Then she’d be able address her other pressing need, the one constantly pulling her into Brody’s arms. She didn’t want to consider her plan not working. Just as she didn’t want to consider that Brody’s attentiveness was just an act. It felt way too real, not to mention way too good.

“It has to work,” she whispered. Looking up, she studied his face, the desire she saw reflected there nearly made her weep with frustration. Her attention focused on a movement over Brody’s shoulder as Nate made another pass through the commissary, obviously hoping to catch her alone. “Maybe if we’re lucky, Nate will be the snitch.”

Brody chuckled. “That would be too easy. Besides, as irritating as his attitude is, Devlin is right, he is the best in the business.”

“Well, he’s back for round two.” Irritated, Shay tried to step out of Brody’s arms, but he held her firm.

“Then we should give him what he expects,” he said before he captured her lips in a slow, searching kiss.

Shay didn’t bother resisting. She’d been desperate for him to kiss her again since the other night. But this kiss wasn’t like the hungry exchanges they’d had before. This time, Brody kissed her as if he had all the time in the world. Heat simmered through her as he slowly explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue. His palm seared the skin on her back where he held her to him.

The scent of his woodsy cologne teased her nostrils as she tugged on his lapels in an effort to shift her body closer. She whimpered deep in her throat as the edge of his arousal nudged against her. Breaking the kiss, Brody gently caressed her cheek.

“Whoa there, Texas.”

Shay’s chest hurt, her pulse was beating so erratically. Embarrassment and frustration flooded her and her eyes couldn’t seem to focus. She tried to break contact with his body, but his fingers dug into her back.

“Shh,” he whispered, sounding a lot like her father did years ago when he needed to gentle one of his horses. “It’s okay.”

Except it wasn’t okay and Shay couldn’t seem to quiet the maelstrom in her belly and everywhere else below her waistline. Brody put two fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his. She sucked in breath at his anguished expression.

“Aww, Shannon,” he groaned before wrapping his hand behind her neck and pulling her mouth in for another kiss.

This time he brought the heat. Pleasure shot through her as she molded her body to his, her fingers searching for skin beneath the soft cotton of his dress shirt. All recollection that they were standing in the corner of the Blaze commissary fled her mind until a female voice behind Brody sifted through her fog of passion.

“Oh my.”

Brody swore as he broke the kiss. His hands steadying her shaking body, Shay stepped back to put some distance between them. With a ragged breath, she yanked down her sweater, trying in vain to hide the flush she was sure covered her entire body.

“Umm, Brody, you should probably come up for air. The buses are getting ready to go soon. You don’t want to get fined.” The stylishly dressed woman standing beside Brody was having a difficult time suppressing a grin of amusement.

“Shit.” Brody’s voice sounded like Shay felt: wrung out. He turned to the woman and she gave him a smug smile. “Shannon, this is your fairy godmother, Julianne Connelly, better known as JV Designs. Jules, this is Shannon.”

Julianne extended her hand, her amber eyes dancing.

“Everyone calls me Shay,” she managed to eke out as she shook Julianne’s hand.

Julianne contemplated her a moment before nodding. “Shay it is. And can I say that I am thrilled you and your sister are not identical twins. Dressing a trophy isn’t much of a challenge. Did anyone ever tell you that you have the body of a classic runway model?”

The only one who’d ever commented on her body had been her Meemaw and that was to tell her she looked like a gangly boy.

“We’re going to have lots of fun with those legs of yours.” Julianne winked at Brody and he groaned.

“Just remember, Julianne, that you’re on my team and not my mother’s.”

Julianne linked her arm through Shay’s. “No, Brody. I’m on Shay’s team.”

Shay had no idea what the two of them were talking about, but it was reassuring to know that for once in her life she had a team.

“Shoo, Brody. Go catch your bus.” Julianne waved him toward the door.

He hesitated a moment, stepping toward Shay as if he was going to kiss her again, before thinking better of it. With a swift nod, Brody hurried out of the commissary.

“Yay, can we go shopping now?” Another teenager had joined Emma at the table. Dressed in animal-print pants and a daring white sweater, the older girl also had a dramatic slash of blue through her blond hair.

“It seems I’ve recruited two assistants,” Julianne explained. “I’ve been dressing Emma since she was three, and her fashion sense is impeccable. Sophie is my sister-in-law, and don’t let her blue hair fool you, she has an exquisite eye for the artistic touches we’re going to need to make you shine.”

“Hey there,” Sophie said with a wave.

Sophie helped Emma pack up her books as Shay studied the woman next to her. Julianne was married to Blaze linebacker Will Connelly, a most unlikely combination if she ever saw one. According to what she’d read on Internet celebrity blogs, the two had conceived a son together and married quickly after the baby was born. Most predicted the marriage wouldn’t last, but the few times Shay had seen the couple, they looked very much in love. She wasn’t sure why the famous designer had agreed to help Brody, but Shay was grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you for helping me. And Brody. I hope it’s not too much of an imposition.”

Julianne gave her another one of those I’ve-got-a-secret smiles, her eyes once again assessing Shay from head to toe.

“It’s not an imposition,” she finally said. “I’d do anything for Brody.”

So would I.

It wasn’t until Shay saw the other woman’s arched eyebrow and beaming face that she realized she’d said it aloud.

 • • • 

The winds off Lake
Erie were icy as the rain pummeled Cleveland’s FirstEnergy stadium. It was only the first week of October, but winter had already come calling in the Great Lakes region. The sloppy field made for an even sloppier game. It was the end of the third quarter and the Blaze were up nine to three. For an offensive player, there was nothing worse than having the game decided by the defense and the kickers.

Brody sat on the heated metal bench, a heavy poncho draped over his shoulders during the five-minute television time-out between quarters. A hiss of steam rose up off the bench as Will Connelly sat down next to him, his uniform drenched in mud, sweat, and rain. He shook his head, showering Brody in the process.

“Dude,” Brody complained. “Ever heard of a towel?”

Connelly shot him one of his menacing looks before grabbing a warm towel from a bag hauled around by one of the equipment boys who marched up and down behind the bench. “You’re such a pretty boy, Brody,” he said as he scrubbed at his face. “And I told you not to speak to me again.”

Brody scoffed. “Jeez, dude, you’d think I asked you to cut something off. As favors go, mine was pretty painless.”

“Painless?” Will glared at him. “Because of your stupid favor, I did have something cut off: sex with my wife. And that was a dirty move involving Julianne in your little scheme.”

“Would you have put the catalog in your locker if I hadn’t?”

“Hell no! But thanks to you convincing my wife to hold out on me until I put that stupid thing out there, now I’ve got to listen to a bunch of shit from my teammates.”

Brody shrugged. Of all the players on the Blaze, he knew Connelly could easily take a little heat within the locker room. The linebacker had been through much worse just a few months before. Besides, no one on the team would challenge Will Connelly on his toughness. It was his sense of fair play that Brody was counting on.

Connelly chugged down a cup of Gatorade. “What I don’t understand is why this whole blogger thing has got your jockstrap all tangled. Your love life has been played out in the media for years and it never seemed to bother you.”

Shows what you know, Mr. Ivy League,
Brody thought. But he kept his thoughts to himself.

“It’s the girl, isn’t it,” Connelly probed. “This is about Shay.”

Brody kept his eyes on the game clock above the opposite sideline. Sixty seconds left in the time-out.

“Hell, Brody, I told you not to hurt that girl.”

“What do you think I’m trying to avoid here,” Brody snarled, aware too late that he’d given Will the information he wanted.

Forty-five seconds left. Connelly nodded finally. “Good, see that she stays that way.”

“Go play in the mud and try to keep them from scoring.”

Connelly hefted his helmet back on his head before slapping Brody on the back. “Stay dry, pretty boy. I did your favor and now I’m going to win this game. After that, I’m going home to my warm, welcoming wife.”

Brody grimaced.

“You can take your catalog home as a consolation prize,” he called as he trotted back onto the field.

BOOK: Risky Game
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