by Carrie Elks
“I’ve no idea.” Mia walked over to the refrigerator to pull out some food. She liked to feed the boys early. That way they had plenty of time to burn off the energy before bedtime. “Hopefully he was driving through and we won’t see him again.”
Yeah. And she’d keep telling herself that. Because she didn’t have the time to think about sexy NFL players who had a swagger that made her legs feel weak.
“Cam Hartson. Yeah, I know him,” Sam said later that evening, when Michael asked him about the football player. “His family comes from around here. His dad lives just up the road. And you’ll have heard of his brother, Gray.”
“His brother’s Gray Hartson, the singer?” Mia asked.
“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “There are four boys and a girl. All of them live around here.”
Five kids? Damn, two were enough to deal with.
“But Cam lives in Boston, so he must be visiting,” Michael mused. “I wonder if he’s staying with his dad.”
“Michael, don’t start stalking football players. You have too much school work for that.” Mia shot him a look and Michael groaned.
“I wasn’t planning on stalking anybody. It’s just interesting, that’s all. I thought this place would be boring, but it isn’t.”
“I like boring. Boring is good,” Mia said, shaking her head.
Sam chuckled. “Not when you’re fourteen it’s not. Am I right, Mikey?”
He held up a hand and Michael high-fived him, grinning. “Hell, yeah, you’re right.”
“Language,” Mia reminded him.
“I can’t say hell? Seriously?”
“Not in front of me, and definitely not in front of Josh.” Mia lifted an eyebrow.
“It’s okay. He swears all the time when it’s just the two of us,” Josh piped up from where he was playing with LEGOs on the floor.
“Tattletale,” Michael muttered.
“I am not.” Josh folded his arms across his chest.
“It’s bedtime,” Mia told them. A chorus of groans greeted her suggestion.
“I’m not tired,” Josh told her.
Michael crossed his arms. “I’m older than Josh. I should get to stay up later.”
“You can go and read to Josh,” Mia told her eldest son. “And then maybe read something yourself. Give us all some peace.”
And maybe then she’d have some time to think about the ten thousand dollar problem who happened to have eyes that made her breath catch in her throat.
Chapter Five
Mia waved at Josh as he walked into the school yard, then put her Honda Civic in drive and pulled out of the kiss and ride line. School drop offs were so much more civilized here than they ever had been in Kansas City. Half of the kids here walked to school, and a lot of the moms parked in the parking lot and walked their children into the yard, rather than joining the drop off line. Which meant this morning’s drop off had been smooth and fast.
Thank goodness. Because she had just over an hour until her interview at The G. Scott Carter whiskey distillery. She’d spent most of the past two days researching the company and the industry, as well as looking at different marketing campaigns their competitors were using, and making notes on ways they could utilise successes from other industries.
She’d created a presentation to take them through, even though they hadn’t expressly asked for one. But she needed this job. There was nothing else that suited her skills so perfectly, or that paid the kind of money she was going to need to get her and the boys back on their feet. If she got this job, she could actually start paying rent to Sam.
Hell, she could even look at getting their own place eventually.
The thought of a little house of her own made her heart clench.
The distillery was on the east side of town, an easy drive through deserted roads lined with farmers’ fields and tall trees. She put her foot down on the gas, figuring she could arrive a little early and re-read the notes she’d written down before going in for her interview, but then a loud bang echoed through the interior, and the car lurched to the right, the steering wheel spinning through her grasp.
Adrenaline rushed through her as she realized it was a blow out. For a second, she thought about hitting the brakes, but knew that would only send the car into a skid. Instead, she fought with the steering wheel, trying to keep it as straight as possible as she lifted her foot from the gas pedal, her breath coming fast as the engine creaked loudly and the car slowed down.
By the time she’d came to a stop, the car was off the road and on the soft shoulder, the fender facing a line of trees. With her heart still pounding, Mia climbed out and looked at the front right tire. The black rubber was torn at the seam, gaping away from the metal hubcap. It was completely flat. She stared at it for a moment, her throat dry and scratchy.
She was going to miss her interview. Dammit!
Inhaling raggedly, she started to give herself a pep talk. She could deal with this. She’d dealt with worse, after all. She could try to change the tire – she knew for a fact there was a spare in the trunk – and if that didn’t work, she’d call the distillery and throw herself at their mercy.
Beg, if she had to.
The spare was heavier than she’d expected, but somehow she’d managed to lift it out and roll it along the ground. It would have been a lot easier if she wasn’t wearing a black blouse and tight grey skirt. And these damn heels were a liability.
Kicking them off, she grabbed her phone to bring up a YouTube video on how to change your tire. Her hand shook, causing her to drop her phone. As luck would have it, the device slid beneath the car. It felt like the final straw.
“Why?” she shouted at it. “Why today? Why me?” Why the hell was it that when one thing went wrong, others followed like dominos, until your life was torn to ruins around you?
With a grunt of frustration, she dropped to her knees and started to fish around under the vehicle, but her cell was too far away. She dropped her body flat on the grass and shuffled as close to the underside as she could.
The low rumble of an engine cut through the silence, but she didn’t dare look up. Not when she almost had her phone. Just as it was getting louder, she finally curled her fingers around it, letting out a shout of victory as she pulled it toward her.
“You okay, Ma’am?”
With her phone clutched in her hand, she slowly turned her head, all too aware that her skirt was ruched up to her hips, exposing her panty hose, or what was left of them after they’d done battle with the ground.
That’s when she saw him. Thick, jean clad thighs. Black t-shirt that clung to his chest, and left her in no doubt that an eight pack was superior to a six pack. And then that face. Handsome, square jawed face, staring down at her splayed out on the ground, shoes kicked off, legs splayed out.
When they’d met a few days ago, at least she’d felt like his equal. For a start, she hadn’t known who Cam Hartson was then.
But now, she was at an extreme disadvantage. Not just physically, though that was bad enough. But situationally, too. She had an old, run down car with a blown out tire, and he was either going to find it funny as hell, or he was going to feel sorry for her.
Kneeling, she brushed the dust off her blouse, trying desperately to regain some poise. Her eyes slid to his, and sure enough there was amusement there. But something else, too.
Concern?
Damn he had such pretty eyes. They were way too distracting.
“Mia? You okay?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
She got to her feet, and yeah, there were snags and runs all down her pantyhose. “I’m fine,” she told him. “Just a small snafu.”
“Did you fall out of the car?” His brows pulled together. “How come you were under it?” He walked around to the front of the Honda and dropped to his haunches, inspecting the tire. “Damn, that’s a bad one.”
“I dropped my phone,” she admitted. “I was trying to find a video on YouTube.”
His lips
twitched, but to his credit, he didn’t laugh. “A video?”
“One that shows how to change a tire. I wanted to do it correctly.” She looked at the spare on the ground next to her. “I haven’t done it before.”
Cam nodded. “You got tools?”
“Um. Probably.” There was a bag of them in the car, but she had no idea what was in there. “What will I need?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Oh no. I couldn’t let you do that.” She gave him a tight smile. “I’ll do it and get on my way.”
He eyed her carefully. “You’ll need a jack and a lug wrench.”
Walking around to the trunk, she pulled the big bag of tools toward her, and looked inside. Finding the jack was easy. It was the biggest thing in there, bright orange with four castors fixed to it.
The lug wrench wasn’t so obvious. There were about ten wrenches in there, all old and rusty. She pulled a couple out, turning them in her hand. They looked like the kind of wrenches you’d use for plumbing.
Cam’s body slid against hers as he leaned into the trunk and pulled out a long stick, that looked like something a band major might twirl.
“This one,” he said softly, as he stood back up, his arm brushing against hers again. She swallowed hard at the contact.
Even harder when she realized she could smell his cologne. Damn, he smelled good. Like a forest on a rainy day.
It took a lot of effort for her to stand up and turn to face him. “I should have known that’s the lug wrench. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and his gaze dipped down, his eyes hooded.
“You wouldn’t need to know unless you were changing a tire.”
Feeling the heat of his gaze on her face, Mia tried to stop her cheeks from flaming. There was something about this man. Not just his confidence, that was too obvious. He had the kind of swagger you only got from being a big deal, multi million dollar sportsman. Not brash or smug, just a pure, masculine assurance that made her throat tighten when she looked at him.
She took a ragged breath and stepped back. Unless she got the spare tire on her car soon, she’d have no interview, and definitely no job. “I should get this changed,” she muttered, walking around to the flat tire.
“Loosen the nuts first. If you try to do it when it’s jacked up, the wheel will just turn.”
She scooted down and slid the wrench onto the nuts, gripping it tight as she attempted to turn it. Her teeth grinded, determined to do this by herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to prove anything to Cam Hartson. It was her own fragile confidence that needed the reassurance.
And when the first nut finally came loose, it felt like a huge victory.
“Yes!” She wanted to pump a fist. Behind her, Cam chuckled.
“Those can be tough. You’re doing good.”
“Thank you.” This time her cheeks really did blush.
It took another ten minutes to change the tire. He helped, but she did most of the work. She appreciated the way he let her take the lead, murmuring suggestions and encouragement when her patience got the better of her.
“Don’t drive too fast on that spare,” he told her, as he lifted the blown tire easily. “Are you headed home?”
She shook her head. “I have an interview.” Her body felt like it was in a heady rush. “I need to head straight there.”
“Whereabouts? I can follow you, just to make sure there are no problems.”
“It’s fine, I can—”
“Mia,” he said, his voice low. She looked up at him, and his gaze was locked on her face. “I want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all. For my own peace of mind. So I’m going to follow you. Not because I’m a creeper or a scary guy, but because I’m a man who was brought up to care for women and make sure they are safe. Once you’re parked up, I’ll turn around and go on my way.”
There was something in his voice – a catch – that made her chest tighten. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you. My interview’s at the G. Scott Carter Distillery. Only a couple of miles from here. Do you know it?”
“Yeah, I know it.” There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite make out. But she didn’t have time to decipher what the heck it was. So she let him carry the blown tire to his car, and using the Honda to shield her from the road, she quickly shimmied out of her pantyhose and slipped her feet back into her heels.
It wasn’t perfect, but when she got to the distillery she’d do what she could to look presentable. Maybe even make a joke about it at the interview. Tell them that she was good in a crisis.
God knew, she’d had enough of those this year to last a lifetime.
“Cam,” she called out, as he closed his trunk.
He looked up at her, his head cocked to the side. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry that you’ve been inconvenienced again.”
He pressed his lips together, and nodded. “It’s okay. I’ve got nothing better to do.”
As soon as she’d parked outside the distillery, Cam turned his car around and headed back up the road toward the highway. He was late for dropping his car off at the dealership, but he figured they’d forgive him. Brian had booked the car in for him, no doubt dropping his name like a pro. And the delay was worth it, anyway.
His lips curled up as he remembered how much she’d protested against his help. Mia Devlin had fire inside her, and he liked it.
It hadn’t taken him long to find out who she was yesterday. One phone call to Maddie, his brother Gray’s wife, and he knew that Mia was Sam Soper’s great-niece, newly arrived in town with her two boys, but no husband.
And yeah, he liked the no husband bit a lot.
She’d gritted her teeth as she yanked at the lug wrench, muttering to herself until the nut came loose. And all he’d been able to do was stare at her. Take in the soft curve of her slender neck, covered with a dusting of golden hair, swept up into a low bun. Her blouse was slightly transparent in the morning sunlight, revealing the warmth of her skin. And that skirt. Grey and tight and emphasizing the enticing curve of her hip. He’d fisted his hands to stop himself from reaching out to trace the curve of her spine as it disappeared below the waistline.
What had he told her? I’m not a creeper. Yeah, right. That’s why he couldn’t stop staring as she’d pulled her ripped pantyhose down and slid her bare feet into those gorgeous heels, and the blood rushed to a part of him that had no business being part of this.
He sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel. It was pure sexual frustration, that was all. Could have happened at any time. He knitted his brows together, trying to remember the last time he’d had a date, let alone had sex, and he couldn’t even remember.
He’d been too busy. With football. With his headaches. With appointments at the hospital. But more than anything, he hadn’t even had the inclination. Sure, when he was younger he’d loved being the center of female attention. He’d revelled in the adulation and easy sex. But he was older now. More mature, and if he was brutally honest, easy sex was never as good as his teenage self had thought it would be.
All the best things in life were hard won. That’s why he loved playing football.
The sound of his phone ringing echoed through his top-of-the range speakers. He glanced at the dash, raising an eyebrow when he saw his agent’s name appear on the screen.
“Accept call,” he instructed, and the ringing stopped. “Derek?” he said, eyeing the name on his dashboard.
“You answered. I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”
Cam bit down a smile, because he’d been doing exactly that. “I’ve been busy.”
“So Brian told me. You made it to your hometown, then. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I sent an email.” Cam merged onto the highway. According to the GPS, the dealership was two exits ahead. “Didn’t you get it?”
“A round robin email. I saw your housekeeper was on the list, too. I can’t do my job if you don’
t talk to me. I’m hanging on a limb here.” Derek huffed. As long as Cam had known him, he’d been dramatic. And demanding. But he was one of the best agents in the business. If you had Derek representing you, you tried not to piss him off.
“I’m here now,” Cam said lightly. “What’s up?”
“I want to know what your plans are. I asked Brian how long your lease is, but he said it’s a family deal. Your brother? I need to know how long you’re gonna be hiding away.”
“I’m not hiding.” Cam inhaled sharply. “I’m thinking.”
“Okayyyy…” Derek huffed again. “How long is the thinking gonna take? Because I’ve got the Bobcats breathing down my neck wanting to know what’s going on. You can’t just leave town and not expect a backlash.”
“Marty told me to take a break.”
“He told you to think. Then you either need to get back on the field or tell them you’re retiring. The sooner you do it, the easier my life will be.”
Cam almost wanted to laugh. “I can’t make a quick decision just to make your life easier.”
“Yeah, well while you’re staying in your nice house overlooking the creek, I’m being hounded by Marty asking me whether he needs to buy a new safety or not.”
Cam licked his lips, his gut clenching at the mention of the Bobcats’ owner. Marty Landsman had always been good to him. He treated everybody working at Freedom Field like family. He owed it to him to be honest.
“I’ll make a decision soon,” he promised.
“Could you not think in Boston? Come and watch some games, show some team spirit? They want you there, you know that.”
The memory of that bar in Boston flitted into his brain, and Cam swallowed hard. Watching his teammates on the field while he was on the sidelines physically hurt. He couldn’t even be around Boston, let alone sit at Freedom Field while they were playing.