Risky Game (7 page)

“Give me a break. I’m not that stupid, Shannon. The wine’s for you.” He took the basket from her hand before she dumped it on the floor, putting it and the wineglass next to their plates.

Shannon had the grace to blush. “Oh, well you shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t drink wine. It makes me silly.”

Brody laughed. “All the more reason you should have some. You’re the most serious person I know.”

Her face dimmed and he felt like a heel. “Shannon, come sit down and tell me about your research while the fish cooks,” he pleaded.

She looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but in his kitchen as she reluctantly slid into the chair at the wide breakfast bar. Her mind seemed to be warring with itself as she scrunched up her brow and contemplated the wineglass in front of her before finally taking a sip.

“It’s pretty boring, Brody. Are you sure you want to hear about it?” she asked shyly.

Brody would listen to her explain the theory of relativity if she kept looking at him like she was just now. He nodded his encouragement.

“It’s complicated, so keep up.”

So much for her vulnerability.

The next half hour flew by as she explained carbohydrate burn and ketones and how his body processed glucose. He ate his dinner—capers included—in rapt fascination of her knowledge and exuberance about the science of nutrition. Despite her earlier warning about the subject being complicated, she took her time to explain the concepts in a way he could relate and easily understand. She would make a wonderful teacher.

When she’d finished, their plates were clean and her wineglass was empty, leaving a soft glow on her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or her excitement for the subject matter, but he did know he liked this relaxed Shannon. Somehow he didn’t think she let herself enjoy this state too often.

“No wonder Nate is so nasty to you,” he said in all sincerity. “He’s afraid of you. You’re brilliant, Shannon.”

Her face flushed deeper and he felt a measure of satisfaction at making her happy.

“Why did you pick nutrition?” he asked as he cleared both their plates to the sink.

“I was the cook in the family. Mama always worked in the evenings and Meemaw fried everything until it was unrecognizable as anything other than a shoe.” She actually laughed and Brody was transfixed. “It was a matter of self-preservation, I guess. Then I discovered that if I ate properly, I would swim faster and what was once a chore became part of my training regimen.”

“You swim?”

“Since I was seven. It’s how I was able to go to college. I swam backstroke for the Longhorns for four years.”

He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised, she had the build of a sleek backstroker.

Shannon twirled her fingers around the stem of her wineglass. “It was nice to have something I was good at.”

“Did your sister swim?” He sat back down next to her, his own fingers itching to reach out and stroke her the same way she was touching the glass.

“Yeah, every morning until we were twelve. Meemaw made her stop because the chlorine was too damaging on her hair. Teryn could have argued that it didn’t matter, she wore a wig for pageants, but truth be told, she hated getting up at five thirty every morning.”

“Your grandmother didn’t care about your hair?” Brody wasn’t sure why, but he felt defensive of Shannon.

She gave a self deprecating laugh. “No, my hair didn’t matter. I wasn’t the pretty one.”

An ugly burn settled in his stomach.

“So tell me your secrets, Brody. For instance, why does a grown man in his late twenties have a basket full of Tonka trucks in his great room?”

Brody relaxed in the chair again, ready to divulge anything she asked of him. “I’ll give you three reasons: Adam, Chandler, and Rachel, my nephews and niece.”

Her eyes danced. “Do they come over to play with you often?”

“Like I said, my family is in and out of here a lot. One of my sisters is working on a big class action case with a law firm here in Baltimore, so she’s in every other week. My oldest sister Gwen, mother to Adam and Rachel, is my assistant, so she tries to visit a couple of times a month. The sister closest to me in age, Tricia, is getting married in a few weeks, so she hasn’t been down lately. Chandler’s mom, my sister Ashley, is my stylist so she comes down to go through my clothes once a month.”

“Pardon?” she asked. “Did you say your sister is your
stylist
?”

Okay, maybe he should have been a little more circumspect with the types of things he shared with her. “She’s in the fashion business and she figures it’s a reflection on her if I look bad in public.”

Shannon’s smile was wide now. “And what exactly does she do?”

“I don’t know.” He was growing a little more defensive. “She coordinates my clothes so everything looks like it goes together.”

“Does she leave you a list or something?”

“No. She organizes them in my closet.” Yep, he’d definitely gone too far if the twinkle in her eyes was any indication.

“Like Garanimals?” She sprung from the chair. “Oh, Brody, this I have to see.”

Shannon was out of the kitchen before he could stop her, those long legs eating up the distance to the center staircase. The house’s lighting system was operated by sensors, the hallway lights illuminating her path up the stairs with each step toward the master bedroom.

“Shannon, wait!” But it was no use, her rich laughter taunted him from the just inside the door to his bedroom. It stopped suddenly as Brody crossed the threshold. Shannon stood still, her eyes glued to the king-sized bed in the center of the room, the pillows mussed from where he’d laid down earlier, a pair of his nylon running shorts lying on the floor beside the big bed.

He leaned up against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you wanted to check out my bed, Shannon, all you had to do was ask.” He’d meant it to be flirtatious, but when she turned around, her face was a contortion of desire and embarrassment. Once again, he was reminded she was a conundrum.

“Next time you come over, Texas,” he warned softly, “you should probably wear a hairnet.”

Her face aghast, Shannon bolted from his bedroom and his house.

“You seem to know
an awful lot about this blogger, Miss Everett.”

Shay’s palms had begun to sweat. She tried not to squirm in her chair under the shrewd gaze of Donovan Carter, the director of security for the Blaze. He studied her carefully from his perch on the corner of general manager Hank Osbourne’s desk. Fortunately, Mr. Osbourne’s eyes held more amusement. Once again, she’d acted on impulse, seeking out management before coming up with a plan. She blamed her rashness on lack of sleep brought on by studying and working long hours. It was either that or acknowledge a deep character flaw.

“Not really, Mr. Carter,” she said. “I just know whoever is writing the blog can’t be everywhere at once. Someone is feeding him or her information. And for some of the more personal stuff, it has to be someone with access inside the organization.”

“She has a valid point, Carter,” Mr. Osbourne said, peering at Shay through his steepled fingers. “The league is pursuing the blogger, but maybe there’s something we can do to step up security so nothing else gets out about Blaze players.”

Mr. Carter bristled at the affront on his current security measures. From what Shay had seen, he was a man who took his job seriously. “There’s not much else to step up. Ever since the abduction of Carly and Troy Devlin and the coach’s daughter last season, we keep a pretty tight watch on who comes and goes into this facility, our hotels, and any stadium we play in.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but it might be someone who’s already in the organization. Perhaps an employee who needs money?”

Both men stared at her. “Is this just supposition, Miss Everett?” Mr. Carter asked. “Or do you have some actual knowledge?”

Shay was walking a fine line here. If she shared too much, she risked implicating herself. She unfolded the piece of paper in her lap, its edges frayed where she’d been gripping it in her damp hands. “This was inside my cubby last week.” She handed the paper to the director of security. “I saw them in all the kitchen staff cubbies. The housekeeping cubbies, too.”

Mr. Carter scanned the sheet, swiping a hand over his bald head in exasperation before handing it to Mr. Osbourne. The silence stretched in the room as the GM read the text. He heaved a sigh. “So, she’s offering money—a lot more than I presumed—for the stuff she reports. And she’s soliciting the low-income staff on the teams to obtain it. She’s aggressively diabolical, I’ll give her that. But it still begs the question, what’s her bigger purpose? And who’s bankrolling the whole thing?”

“We still aren’t even sure it’s a she.”

Both men’s eyebrows shot up at Shay’s statement, but as a scientist, Shay knew it was foolish to rule out half the population without proof.

Mr. Carter picked up the paper that Mr. Osbourne had flipped onto his desk in disgust. “I’ll call around to the other teams to alert them to be on the lookout for one of these. Can I keep this?” The question was obviously a formality because he quickly stood, his body poised for action.

Shay waved a hand. “I don’t want it.”

The director of security contemplated her. “Thanks for bringing it to our attention.” If he wondered why it had taken her a week, he didn’t ask.

Shay stood, too, ready to make her escape.

“Miss Everett?” The amusement was back in Mr. Osbourne’s tone. “My sincerest apologies if this incident has upset you personally in anyway.”

“Pardon?” She wasn’t sure where the GM was going with his apology.

“Your . . .
relationship . . .
with Brody Janik. I’m sure a woman like you couldn’t be too happy to see it spread all over the Internet.”

Oh, snap
. She’d left the door wide open for him to weigh in on her relationship with Brody. What if the GM wasn’t as tolerant as the coach and he dismissed her right on the spot? She’d lose her internship for sure. All because she didn’t want Brody to think she was the snitch. What was her mama always telling her?
Pride goeth before the fall
.

Shay was embarrassed that the GM thought she and Brody were involved. No doubt the man believed she was incredibly unprofessional, a starry-eyed student who looked at the job with the team as an opportunity to score. Heat stained her cheeks at the thought. She stammered, hoping something intelligent would come out of her mouth.

Before it could, she caught sight of Brody sliding to a halt in front of the open door of the GM’s office. His eyes went wide as he spied her looking very much like a chastised schoolgirl standing in front of Hank Osbourne’s desk. He was obviously dressed for practice, in gray knit shorts and a white Blaze T-shirt stretched over well-defined muscles. Shay was confused as to why he’d be in this part of the building.

“There you are.” Brody stepped into the office, his normally cool composure seeming a bit frayed.

He came to stand beside her, thankfully not touching. Her own nerves were still fraught from the night before when she’d been in his bedroom. Her skin burned more furiously at the thought. She’d been so forward, charging up to his room. How many women had he brought to that mammoth bed? All of them more beautiful than her. How he must have laughed at her when she charged out of his house.

“Everything okay here, Hank?”

A bemused smile spread over the GM’s face. “Yes, Brody, everything’s fine. Isn’t that right, Miss Everett?”

Shay nodded, hoping that was her cue to head for the door.

“Cool.” Brody gestured for her to precede him out of the office.

“By the way, Miss Everett,” Mr. Osbourne called after her, halting her progress. “Thank you for helping out with food services. I know it wasn’t the intern experience you expected, but with the catering liaison out unexpectedly with a serious illness, Nate has had to fill in to coordinate the nutritional aspect of training. He tells me you’ve been a big help. I just wanted you to know how much the team appreciates it.”

Shay was so stunned she could barely manage a thank-you.
Nate was singing her praises to management? What could he possibly want from her?

“I believe practice is about to begin, Brody,” the GM warned.

“On my way,” Brody said as he herded her out of the office.

Shay pulled on her hairnet and quickly made her way toward the stairs leading down to the commissary. She needed to get the protein shakes ready before practice began. Apparently whatever had Brody in the management side of the building was forgotten because he was shadowing her stride for stride.

“What the hell were you doing?” he hissed.

“What I said I was going to do.” She bounded down the stairs, trying to distance herself from him, but the attempt was futile. “I’m trying to catch the snitch.”

“Jeez Louise, you’re one bull-headed woman. Will you give it up already about this supposed snitch?”

Shay had to catch herself to keep from stumbling at the base of the stairs, she was so angry with his refusal to believe her. Brody quickly grabbed her elbow to steady her. Unable to bear the reaction her body had to his touch, she tried to yank her arm free.

“Go away, Brody. I can take care of myself.”

“That’s debatable.” He opened one of the training room doors, tugging her inside before closing and locking it behind him.

Shay was too angry to panic about being alone in a room with him again. “You’re going to be late for practice.”

“Yeah and it’s your fault. I had to track you down all over this building to make sure you didn’t do something stupid.”

So he’d been looking for her
.
She tamped down the flutter of excitement in her chest. “What’s it to you?”

“Shannon, if they find out it was you in that locker room, they’ll fire you. Isn’t that what we’re trying to avoid here?”

And there it was.
We.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Brody. You’re not worried about me. You’re worried about you. As usual. If I get fired, you lose your leverage over me and you won’t have anyone to fix your meals.”

His lips formed a grim line. “Not quite all my leverage, Texas.”

That part was true, but it was against Shay’s nature to concede defeat. “What’s done is done. Now can you let me out of here so I can go do my job?”

Brody blocked the door, his muscled arms belligerently crossed against his chest, his feet spread wide. He muttered something beneath his breath. “Do you give all your boyfriends this much trouble?” he asked as he took two steps toward her.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Brody.” It was a credit to her acting abilities that she could hide the disappointment in her voice.

Somehow he’d managed to move to within striking distance. He narrowed those cobalt eyes at her and suddenly there wasn’t a breath of air left in the room.

“So then I shouldn’t do this.”

Ever so gently, he cupped her face in his hands. Shay was too stunned to react as his lips descended toward hers.
He definitely shouldn’t be doing this
, she thought to herself. But she did nothing to stop him. She couldn’t. Even more embarrassing, she wasn’t able to stifle the soft moan of pleasure that escaped from the back of her throat as his lips made contact with hers. The sound was all the encouragement Brody needed.

He opened her mouth with his and she welcomed the invasion, his tongue sliding along her own. Heat pooled in her belly as Brody groaned, her embarrassment quickly replaced by satisfaction. Her hands had somehow found their way into his hair and she threaded her fingers through the soft strands, the movement bringing their bodies closer. Brody lifted his hands from her face to explore the contours of her body, leaving a warm flush to her skin everywhere he touched. She sighed in protest as his lips left hers. But when they moved to caress the sensitive spot beneath her ear, her knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.

“I should have never let you leave my bedroom last night.”

The sensual haze was surely playing tricks on her hearing because men like Brody didn’t say those kinds of things to women like Shay. If she were dreaming, she didn’t want this interlude to end. Turning her head, she sought out his lips again. He didn’t disappoint, claiming her mouth in a full, searching kiss. Shay arched her body into his as his hands cupped her bottom. Her own hands had somehow managed to slip underneath his T-shirt, her fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of his muscled abdomen.

Brody suddenly flinched, his breath catching in a hiss. Shay came to her senses with a start, breaking the kiss and taking a giant step back. She glanced up at his bewildered face. His hair was mussed from where her fingers had been and he was breathing as if he’d just run the length of a football field.

It was a moment before he broke the charged silence. “Sorry. I got a stinger in practice yesterday, that’s all.” He lifted up his T-shirt to show her his bruised stomach. “See, nothing serious.”

Shay wasn’t paying attention to his babbling, however. Shame washed over her as she caught sight of his very lusty arousal. She’d been two minutes from shedding her drawers in the building where she interned. With a man who’d most likely done this thing a hundred times before; maybe in this very room. Worse, she’d wanted it as much as he did.
Probably more.

“Shannon?” His tone was gentle as he took a step forward.

Shay put her hands up to stop him, unable to find her own voice. She needed to get out of there. Making a halfhearted attempt to right her appearance, she spied her hairnet lying on the floor next to his sneakered feet. But she didn’t dare retrieve it. Not if it meant getting close to him again. Instead, she scrambled out of the room as quickly as she could, a strangled sob escaping her throat. Brody swore as she sped out, but thankfully, his current condition forced him to stay put.

 • • • 

Two days later, Brody
was still edgy from his close encounter with Shannon. She’d made herself scarce again, prepackaging his dinners and snacks while he was at practice and leaving them in his fridge with detailed cooking instructions. He’d been wrong when he said Nate would be a prick about his diet. Shannon Everett was worse.
Way worse
. She strictly regimented his day by what he ate and when. But he couldn’t complain because his head was finally as clear as it had been before his symptoms started five months ago. As maddening as he found her routine, it was working. Now all he needed to do was to make the other parts of his body happy.

“Yo, Brody! Where’s your girlfriend?” DeShawn called across the ballroom of the Baltimore hotel the Blaze stayed at the night before every home game. The team was reassembling for the coach’s nine p.m. motivational pep talk before they dispersed to their rooms to catch the recap of the day’s college football games and get some shut-eye. The same local restaurant catered the pregame meals for all the home games, so Shannon had the night off. Of course, that hadn’t stopped her from organizing Brody’s meals. How she’d managed it with the caterer he didn’t know, but he was beginning to suspect that nothing stopped Little Miss Texas when she put her mind to it.

He gave his teammate a shrug. “She has the night off.”

“Man, you need to be more careful with your lady,” the tailback said. “You shouldn’t let her tend bar without us there to keep the riffraff away.”

“She isn’t tending bar tonight, either.” At least he hoped not. He’d spent five hours the previous evening nursing mineral water at Celtic Charm, keeping watch on Shannon as she mixed drinks. The three slugs from Santoni’s had wandered through the bar area, along with the rest of the frat house, but they didn’t linger. Most of the men vying for Shannon’s attention had been his teammates, allowing Brody to relax a little. But only a little.

Thanks to the charade he was perpetrating with Shannon, he couldn’t very well have hooked up with any of the women who’d been hitting on him last night. That little miscalculation was wreaking havoc with his body, with no relief in sight. Making matters worse, he wanted Shannon. God only knew the reason why. She wasn’t going to grace the cover of the
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit edition anytime soon. Not to mention Little Miss Texas was ornery as a mule. A man didn’t stand a chance controlling a girl like that. Especially one with an IQ in the
Big Bang Theory
range. Hell, given the choice, he’d take a high-maintenance woman any day; she’d be less work than Shannon Everett.