by Carrie Elks
“There’s talk of making the playoffs. Hey, maybe you’ll be back if we do. Though the rookie is doing pretty well. Coach Mayberry likes him.”
Cam inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I heard that.”
“That’s kind of why I’m calling.” Brian’s voice lowered. He cleared his throat. “Um, Coach has suggested I help out the new guy while you’re away. He needs to get some things for his apartment, and he’s hopeless with shopping. Kind of like you, I guess.” Brian laughed awkwardly. “I said I’d ask you first. I don’t want you to think I’m going behind your back or anything. But I do have a lot of time on my hands while you’re not here.”
Weird how that question hit him right in the gut. It wasn’t like Brian was cheating on him. Just trying to fill in some time with some work to do.
Cam knew how he felt. “Yeah, sure. Whatever Coach wants.”
“Do you know when you’ll be back?”
“Not yet.” Cam kept it short, because he didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to admit he had no idea how to get back on the field. Not without causing himself greater harm. But he still wasn’t ready to let football go.
Because then what else could he do?
“I guess you’ll be coaching the high school team for a while. How is it going?”
“Yeah, pretty well.” Cam felt the tightness in his chest lessen. “They’re a good bunch of kids. Enthusiastic, talented, they just need some honing. I guess I’ll keep doing it for a few weeks.”
“It’s good you’re keeping yourself busy. And football’s football, right? You can come back when you’re ready.”
“Yep. The football is good. And they have so much stamina. I’d forgotten how much unharnessed energy teenagers had.” His thoughts turned to Michael – and of course from there they leapt to Mia. He swallowed hard as he remembered how soft her long hair was as it brushed against his cheek. “Anyway, I’d better go. Lots going on here.” Lies, all lies. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”
“Sure. Take care. Glad you’re doing well.”
Cam disconnected and grabbed his car keys, heading out to the SUV that the dealership had loaned him. He climbed inside and pressed the ignition, turning the stereo to high. Loud music blasted out – a new track Gray had sent him yesterday to check out. The pumping bass somehow calmed him, making his breath slow and easy.
Glad you’re doing well.
Yeah, he was doing great. His career was hanging by a thread, his teammates were moving on without him, and he had a boner for a woman who was completely uninterested in him.
He turned the car around and drove down his driveway, eyes blinking at the reflection of the sun shining up from the creek.
Two of those things he had no control over. The third? She was a challenge, and she intrigued the hell out of him.
And he wanted her. Maybe too much.
Chapter Twelve
“Hey, Mom, come and look!” Josh called out from the living room. Mia put the last clean glass away and closed up the dishwasher, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel as she walked through the doorway.
Josh was sitting with Sam in front of the coffee table, the two of them leaning over a half-finished jigsaw puzzle. “We’ve done all the edges,” Josh told her, a beaming smile on his face. “I did most of it, didn’t I, Uncle Sam?”
“Yep, you did.” Sam nodded. “But the edges are the easy part. It’s the middle pieces that determine the men from the boys. See this bit?” he said, pointing at the picture on the puzzle lid. “We have to find all these different shades of blue and somehow put them all together. That’s where the skill is.”
“I can do that,” Josh said, his eyes lighting up. “Mom, do you want to help?”
Mia shook her head, shooting a grateful look at Sam. He and Josh seemed to have a natural affinity, and it made her life so much easier.
She may be able to start paying Sam some rent when she got her first paycheck, but it wouldn’t be market rate. That’s why she was already planning on painting the living room during her free weekends, and why she’d written up a schedule of repairs for the kitchen and bathrooms.
She owed Sam a lot. They all did.
“I have some work to do,” she told Josh. “You can carry on with the puzzle until eight, then you need to shower and get into your pjs, okay? If you do that, we’ll read some Harry Potter together.”
“Sure,” Josh said. “It’s a deal.”
Sam looked up at her again, his grizzled face pulled into a frown. “Are they working you too hard already? It’s only your first day.”
“Says the guy who only takes one day off a week.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, but I own the business. Your extra work is lining somebody else’s pockets.”
“I want to make a good impression,” she told him lightly. “And I enjoy working. I always have.” She’d spent the afternoon in a conference room with Nathan and Eliana, talking about a secret project they were working on with Eliana’s other son in Scotland. They were creating an international blend, with whiskey from four different distilleries across the world, and had tasked Mia with creating a marketing plan for the new product.
“We’ve always outsourced our marketing before,” Eliana had told her. “But Nathan and Daniel persuaded me that we need a dedicated resource. That’s where you come in. You’ll work on our other brands, too, but I want this to be your top priority.”
It was exciting, and scary, and Mia knew this was her chance to make an impression. If the Carters liked her work, then her job would be safe, which would mean she could start paying her way and even saving for the boys’ futures.
In a few years, Michael would be going to college, and as much as she hoped he’d at least get a partial scholarship, she needed to have enough money to help pay for everything else.
And then there was Josh. He didn’t have a lot of expensive hobbies, but he did suffer from asthma. His prescriptions would be covered by this job, too, minus the copay.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she was starting to relax about money and their future. And it was good to be challenged professionally. She’d always been good at her job, even if she sometimes felt like a failure at everything else.
“Hey, Mom?” Josh said, as she went to head back to the kitchen, where her laptop was set up on the table.
“Yes, honey?”
“Noah’s mom says she’s going to call you about pee wee football. There’s a place on Noah’s team I could join.”
“I thought you didn’t like football.” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as cheap as she thought.
“I didn’t like it in Kansas City.” Josh shrugged. “Dad would always shout at me when I dropped the ball. Noah says nobody shouts at his games.” Josh gave her a hopeful look. “Noah’s mom says she can take me to practice every Saturday. She says if it’s okay with you, I can stay over on Fridays after the game at the high school.”
“Oh. Okay.” Mia nodded. “I’ll call her.”
“Two footballers in the family.” Sam shook his head. “I worry for the cars of Hartson’s Creek.”
“Uncle Sam.” Josh rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hit any cars again. I’m gonna be a good footballer.”
Mia bit down a smile and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the refrigerator.
It was almost midnight by the time she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Josh had been asleep for hours, and Michael had come home from a friend’s house just before eight, muttering something about an assignment. She assumed he’d gone to bed at some point, because there was no light spilling out from under his door. Carefully, she peeked in, and sure enough he was curled beneath the covers, his face resting on his hands.
She’d just finished brushing her teeth when her phone vibrated.
I thought you were calling me later. It’s later.
She didn’t need to look at the number to know who it was. Shaking her head, she brushed her hair and pulled the covers back off her bed.
&nb
sp; The screen had faded, but the memory of the text remained. If she didn’t reply, he’d call her tomorrow.
It’s late. And I was only going to call because I thought you had the invoice for the repairs. M
There, that should put an end to it. She climbed into bed, and turned the light out. A moment later, her screen lit up the room.
If I have the invoice you’ll call me? C
She rolled her eyes. Yes, if you want to discuss money, I’ll call you. M
I want to discuss money. C
Now? M
Yeah now. C
But it’s almost midnight. I’m tired. M. That was a lie. She’d never felt so awake, thanks to the rush of blood around her veins.
Damn Cameron Hartson. Why did she react like this to him?
You’re the one who didn’t call when she was supposed to. I’ve been sitting by the phone all night. I feel rejected. C
She smiled in spite of herself. Dammit, he was flirting. And it felt nice, so nice, to be flirted with. Her finger hovered over the phone. Turn it off, or call him? For a moment it all hung in the balance. Then she pressed her finger on the screen.
“Hey.” He answered the phone almost as soon as his screen lit up. Didn’t want to give her a chance to disconnect. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
He smiled at the sound of her voice. Everything about her made his body tense up in the best of ways. He blamed it on his furlough from football. His mind was bored and his body was restless and she filled all the blanks where a ball used to be.
“How was your first day at work?” Keep it clean, Hartson. He leaned back on the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table made out of driftwood that had probably cost Tanner more than most people made in a month.
“You know what? It was great.” Her voice lifted up with enthusiasm, and it made him smile. “Everybody was so lovely, and I have this amazing project to work on. I just need a few more hours in the day.”
“I got a few if you want them.”
She laughed. “If only it was that easy. I don’t suppose you know anything about marketing?”
“I know how to look sultry in a magazine campaign to sell watches.”
Another laugh. Each one felt like winning a game. “I bet you do. What watches were those again? Just so I can check out the competition.”
“You’re not selling watches,” he reminded her. But damn, he liked it when she flirted back with him.
“No, but somebody in a marketing department or advertising company came up with it. They’re my competition. The product is just the thing we play with. The ball, if you like. So give me a name, Hartson.”
“Depuis.”
She let out a whistle. “They’re expensive.”
“I got three if you want one. They do nothing other than sit in my top drawer. I don’t even wear a watch.” He imagined clipping the oversized silver strap around her delicate wrist, and damn if that didn’t make him hard.
Everything about Mia Devlin made him want her.
“Sure. Just give me a twenty thousand dollar watch. Add it to the invoice for the car. I have a spare thirty thousand sitting around.” She laughed. “And I’m not even going to mention the fact that you have sixty thousand dollars worth of jewelry sitting in a drawer. What else do you have? A Matisse in the closet? A Rolls Royce in the basement?”
It was his turn to laugh. “I always meant to do something with them. Then I thought I’d save them for my nephews, but they’re still too little, so they’re just waiting.”
“You should put them in a deposit box at the bank or something. Anybody could steal them.” She sounded concerned.
“Since I only have a cleaner come in, I think I’m safe there. Unless you’re planning on putting on a catsuit and sneaking into my Boston apartment.” And now he wanted to see her in a catsuit, dammit.
“I was thinking more about burglary. Or a home invasion. People know you’re a football player, you’re an easy target.”
His voice lowered. “Are you worried about my safety, Mia? Because I don’t know if you’ve seen me, but I’m two hundred and twenty pounds of brick wall. And I have a baseball bat under my bed and I know how to use it.”
“You don’t take a baseball bat to a gunfight. And you’re not even in Boston. Please put them in a safety deposit box.”
His chest tightened. When was the last time anybody worried about him? “Okay,” he said softly. “I will. If it’ll make you sleep easier at night.”
“Thank you. Though I haven’t been sleeping at all for the past few nights, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Why not?” Cam always slept like a log. Didn’t matter what bed he was in, or which state for that matter. His head hit the pillow and he was out. The thought of not sleeping made him wince.
“Too much on my mind. My job, the boys, everything. I can’t relax.”
“I know how to help you with that.” His voice was gritty. Low.
“I bet you do.”
“Come here on Friday night. Let me give you some therapy. I promise I’ll work you so hard you’ll sleep for days.”
“I can’t.” She sounded almost regretful. “I have the boys. Or Michael, at least.”
“Then another day. You name the time, I’ll be here.” He wanted to see her naked. To kiss her everywhere until she was gasping. He wasn’t lying about working her out. He had more energy than he knew what to do with.
And he wanted to use it on her.
“It’s not a good idea, Cam.” Her voice was soft. It curled around him like a blanket.
“Why not?”
“I told you. The kids. They don’t deserve having their mom talked about in town. And I’m trying to build up a reputation at work. I don’t want it to be for the wrong reasons.”
“And if I promised you nobody would find out?”
“Somebody always finds out.”
His lip quirked. “That’s because people are stupid. Come just once.” He laughed. “I mean, come here just once. I’ll make sure you come plenty more times than once.”
Her breath hitched. “Cam, I…”
“Don’t answer now. Think about it. I’m gonna hang up and go to bed, because I’m not the kind of man who begs.”
She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing soft and low.
“Touch yourself tonight. Think about how good I’d feel inside you. I know I’ll be thinking about that.”
Her breath was heavier now.
“You still there?” he asked, though he knew she was.
“Yeah.”
“Are you touching yourself?” Jesus, he was aching. It was his turn to feel breathless.
“Not yet.”
Not yet. Which means she was planning to. If one of her laughs felt like winning a game, this admission felt like winning the damn Superbowl.
“Good night, Mia. Sleep tight.” he said, adjusting himself because right now he could drill a hole through a rock. He needed a cold shower. Stat.
There was another long pause, then a sigh. “Good night, Cam.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Okay, team, we’re done for tonight.” Coach Hawkins clapped his hands together. “Go home, get some food inside you, and I'll see you tomorrow after school.”
Cam nodded at the defensive team, who’d been running drills with him. Sweat was dripping from his head – he’d never ask them to do anything he wouldn’t do with them. “Good work,” he told them. “Those tackles are getting better.” They’d been working on creating turnovers from offensive running plays. It had been fun to play offense for a change, letting the team try to block his runs toward the end zone. Like them, he was exhausted now. He really needed to up his training.
Tomorrow he’d go running twice. If he couldn’t keep up with a high school team, he was definitely losing it.
“Before you all go, I need a couple of volunteers,” Coach called out at the team’s retreating backs. “The local pee wee team is short a co
uple of coaches, and I thought it could be a chance to give back. You’ll be needed Saturday mornings at nine. Anybody up for it?”
There were a few murmurs about Saturday jobs, and wanting to sleep in, before one of the Varsity players put his hand up. “I guess I could help. My kid brother’s on the team.”
“Thanks, Leon.” Coach gave him a wink. “One down, one to go. Come on, show a little spirit here. Coaching will be good for your play. You get to learn how to spot weaknesses and work with others on them. Plus it’ll earn you points with me.”
“I can do it. My brother’s joining the team, too.”
Cam turned to see Michael with his hand up. He’d been running drills with Cam, though avoided talking to him.
“We can go together,” Leon said, slapping Michael on the back. Michael looked pleased to be noticed by the older player. “You’re Josh’s brother, right? Noah won’t stop talking about him. I think he wants my mom to adopt him.”
“She’s welcome to him,” Michael mumbled, and Leon laughed.
Coach nodded at them both.“Great. I’ll email you all the details. Okay, team, help me collect up the equipment and then hit the showers.”
Half an hour later, Cam was walking across the parking lot when he heard somebody call out his name. He turned to see Michael running toward him, holding his hand up as though trying to get Cam to stop.
“Everything okay?” Cam asked, as Michael reached him, his breath coming in short spurts. Michael looked over his shoulder at Cam’s dark blue Audi.
“You got your car back,” he said, swallowing hard. “I guess that means you got the invoice, too.”
“Yeah, I got it.” He’d paid it, too.
Michael shifted his feet. “And you plan on sending it to my mom?”
No he wasn’t. Cam wasn’t that much of an asshole. “I don’t think that’s your concern.”
“But it is. It wasn’t my mom’s fault your car was dented. I’m the one who should pay for it, not her.”
“You got a spare eight thousand hanging around?” Cam had been pleasantly surprised at the cost. Two thousand less than he’d anticipated.