Rules of Contact

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Rules of Contact Page 4

by Jaci Burton


  "That must be fun for you."

  "Very fun. Not that I don't miss our little guy, because I do. But this gives me an opportunity to go to the game and not have to contend with sticky little mustard fingers swiping down my pants, or worry about him running amok. I can also conduct some business while I'm here, which is ideal for me."

  "I'm sure that's important for you. And relaxing at the same time."

  Mick put his arm around Tara. "She needs to meet with the manager of her place here in San Francisco. And we get a couple of date nights out of it, too. Have to keep that romance alive."

  Tara grinned. "Romance is vital."

  Amelia could feel the love between the two of them. "Yes, it definitely is."

  "They're really sickening, those two," Flynn said, though he smiled as he said it.

  Amelia realized Flynn was alone. "Where's Jameson?"

  "I ordered a car for her and sent her back to her hotel."

  "Oh. Did she have an early flight to catch?"

  "No."

  She supposed from his disgruntled expression that she shouldn't ask any more questions about Jameson.

  "She was a little fond of the cameras, wasn't she, Flynn?" Tara asked.

  "Yeah. I have a knack for finding women who are camera magnets."

  "You should let me fix you up with someone," Tara said. "I know a lot of nice women."

  "No, thanks. After tonight's disaster I think I'll just take a break from women right now."

  Mick snorted.

  Flynn glared at him. "What?"

  "Take a break from women. Like you could do that."

  "I could."

  "No, you couldn't." Mick gestured with his hands. "It's like the buffet here. You can't resist taking a taste of everything."

  Flynn lifted his chin and Amelia noticed the firm line of his lips. "I'm not like that with women."

  "Aren't you? You always seem to have one around."

  Flynn narrowed his gaze. "Yeah, and you were such a saint before you met Tara."

  "Hey, I never claimed to be. But I didn't lie to myself about taking a break."

  Amelia wondered if the two of them were going to shove the chairs back and start throwing punches. She glanced over at Tara, who didn't seem at all concerned about the argument.

  Then, suddenly, Flynn laughed. "Okay, fine. Maybe I won't take a break. But, Christ, I'd sure as hell like to find a woman who prefers me over the cameras."

  Mick slapped him on the back. "I know exactly what that's like, buddy."

  Tension diffused. If there actually had ever been any tension. Maybe it had all been in her mind.

  "Are you two always like this?" Amelia asked.

  Flynn looked over at her. "Like what?"

  "Arguing with each other one second, then laughing the next."

  Mick grinned. "We give each other shit all the time. Flynn knows I was just joking with him."

  Flynn laid his hand on her arm. "Were you worried about me?"

  "No. Not at all. I was just wondering if I should move out of the way before one of you went flying over the table. But then I noticed Tara didn't seem worried."

  Tara shrugged and took a sip of her wine. "I'm used to them. They're like small boys in large bodies."

  Mick leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

  "You do that. In the meantime, we should find a decent woman for Flynn to go out with before he chooses another disaster like Jameson."

  "Thanks, but I can find my own woman."

  "Oh, right," Amelia said. "Because you're doing such a winning job on that front so far."

  Flynn's focus landed on Amelia. "Hey. Now you're joining the fray?"

  "Now that I know you're not going to punch anyone at the table, I thought I might."

  "Yes, Amelia told me about some of your non-success stories earlier," Tara said.

  Flynn pinned Amelia with a look. "Traitor."

  Amelia's lips lifted. "Sorry. I was using them in reference to Jameson, who I hoped at the time would be different."

  "Now that we know you can't possibly select your own woman, Amelia and I should act as matchmakers for you."

  Mick looked at them in horror. "That's got train wreck written all over it."

  "How so?" Amelia asked.

  "I don't know, but I've never been fond of the fix-up."

  "Let me give it a try," Tara said. "I'm having a dinner party next Tuesday at our place for friends as well as a few of the guys on the team."

  "Offense," Mick said to Flynn.

  Flynn grimaced and Mick laughed.

  "Why don't you come, Flynn, and I'll fix you up with someone?" Tara asked. "Amelia, you come, too."

  "Thank you, but I'll be working," Amelia said.

  "If I have to go, so do you," Flynn said. "So you get the night off."

  She was about to object, but it might be fun to see how Flynn managed being fixed up with one of Tara's friends. So she nodded. "Thank you, Tara. I'd love to."

  "And this way it'll give you a chance to meet some new people, too, Amelia."

  "Why don't you fix her up with someone, too, Tara?" Flynn asked. "She doesn't know that many people here."

  Amelia glared at Flynn before turning a gentle smile on Tara. "Oh, that's not necessary."

  But Tara cast a bright smile in Amelia's direction. "That's actually a great idea. Dates for both of you at the party on Tuesday."

  She couldn't very well say no since she'd just shoved Flynn into this. "Great. Thank you."

  But she did send a withering look at Flynn, who only smiled knowingly at her.

  Bastard.

  SIX

  Amelia was in the midst of prepping boeuf bourguignon when the doorbell rang. She grabbed the towel to wipe her hands and went to the door. It was Laura.

  "Hey, come on in. I thought you were working today."

  "I switched shifts with one of my coworkers who didn't want to miss her daughter's dance recital. So I'm on later, instead."

  "That means no wine for you. Too bad." She took a sip from her glass and laid it on the island.

  "What in the world are you making? Is that boeuf bourguignon?"

  "It is. With a little twist here and there to make it my own."

  "Oh, my God. I'm so intrigued. And now I'm hungry."

  Amelia slid a cheese and cracker plate over toward Laura. "Have a snack. And there's iced tea in the refrigerator."

  Laura grabbed a glass and poured herself some tea, then retrieved a small plate and piled it with cheese, crackers and the olives Amelia had prepared.

  "So when you cook, you get hungry?"

  Amelia grinned at her. "Absolutely. Which is why I have to have snacks nearby."

  She slid the casserole into the oven and set the timer, then pulled up a chair to the island and put some cheese and crackers onto her plate.

  "How did the event go last night?"

  "It went very well." She filled Laura in on everything, including Flynn's disastrous date, meeting Tara and Mick Riley and what happened after the party.

  "So another woman decided camera time was more important than hanging out with that gorgeous hunk of man? What is wrong with women, anyway?"

  "I have no idea. I'm truly flummoxed why so many women would risk a relationship with such a nice guy like Flynn to get some face time on camera. Do television cameras have some kind of bewitching quality we're unaware of?"

  "You've got me, honey. If someone stuck a camera in front of Jon, I'd run like hell to get away."

  "That's because you're special. And you love your husband."

  Laura popped an olive in her mouth. "I do love that man. So now you've got a date next week, too? Awesome."

  "Ugh. Not awesome. But there didn't seem to be a polite way to get out of it."

  "Why would you even want to? This is your opportunity to meet new people. And a guy who might be perfect for you."

  "No guy is perfect."

  "Of course not. But some guy might
be the right one for you."

  She sliced a piece of Gouda and laid it on a cracker. "That's what I thought the first time. I was wrong. Clearly I have no intuition when it comes to men, and I'm not interested in trying again."

  "You're burned, honey. I get it. But go anyway, have some fun. No one's asking you to marry the guy on the first date. Even if you just find someone to have a hot fling with, it's worth it. Don't you miss sex?"

  She nearly choked on her wine. "Of course I do."

  "All that body-to-body action, a sexy mouth kissing on you, some tongue action taking a slow, delicious ride on the Hot Body Train down to Lady Town."

  She shot a glare at her best friend. "Laura. Stop."

  Laura seemed unfazed. "What? You know you want some. Just because some asshole broke your heart doesn't mean your vagina has gone out of business. The two organs don't have to be connected to each other, ya know. You can have sweaty hot sex without falling in love."

  Laura was right. It had been a very long time. Even before she and Frank had divorced, the sex had stopped. Which didn't mean she was ready to . . . board that train again just yet.

  Still . . . just the thought of having some wild uncontrollable sex with someone sounded really good about now.

  Then again, that might be the wine talking.

  "I can see your mind working over there," Laura said. "You're thinking about sex."

  She hid her thoughts by leaning over to jot down some notes about the recipe. "No. I'm thinking about food."

  "No one knows you better than I do. And you never blush about boeuf bourguignon. You're not only thinking about sex, you're thinking about hot, dirty, up-against-the-wall sex."

  Amelia shot a direct look at Laura. "I've never even had hot, dirty, up-against-the-wall sex."

  Laura tilted her glass of tea toward her. "Then you've been doing it wrong. We need to find the hottest guy in the world for you. I hope he's at the party Tuesday night."

  Amelia thought about denying Laura's statement, but truthfully, so did she.

  SEVEN

  After a grueling loss to Cleveland on Sunday, Flynn and his team regrouped and tried to figure out where they'd gone wrong.

  Special teams had made some errors, and the opposing team's eighty-yard runback for a touchdown hadn't helped. Defense had seemed off-key the entire game. The Sabers offense had put up two touchdowns and a field goal, so they should have been able to defend Cleveland and hold them.

  They hadn't been, which had made them even more determined to go into their home game this weekend with a mind-set to win.

  They'd watched game films today, and Flynn had paid particular attention to the defensive line. It wasn't as if Cleveland's offensive line was better. But Cleveland's offense had gotten off the mark faster, and had protected the quarterback, which meant Flynn hadn't been able to touch him. Nor had the other lineman. Cleveland had looked solid and the Sabers defense had been scattered.

  Time to shake off that loss and do what they knew they could.

  It was a grueling workout, but the day was cool and they dug deep exorcising the demons from the previous game. Whatever had gone wrong last week was over. He and his line were solid now, and after the rest of the week's practices he knew they'd be ready for Green Bay come Sunday.

  "See you tonight?" Mick asked as he walked by him in the locker room.

  "For sure. I'll be there." Though he wasn't all that jazzed about the idea of being fixed up. He much preferred to choose his own woman.

  Then again, that hadn't been working out all that well for him lately. He was still pissed about what had happened with Jameson. And if he was honest, he was pissed about the long stream of women who had been using him for camera time.

  He should just give up on dating and concentrate on football. He didn't like failure. Losing wasn't acceptable to him, whether it was a game or a relationship.

  At least he'd won more games than he'd lost. The whole relationship thing had been one giant loss lately, and that just fucking sucked. Something needed to change in the romance department.

  Maybe having someone fix him up would work out better than him finding his own dates, so he might as well give this a try.

  After he got home he checked his phone messages. One from his mother, so he clicked on her number. She answered right away.

  "Hey, Mom, what's up?"

  "Not much here. Wedding planning."

  Two of his brothers--Grant and Tucker--were getting married next year. Which made his mom very happy.

  "And how's that going?"

  "It's going well, but of course there's a lot to do as you can imagine."

  "Yeah, I can imagine."

  "And how are you? How's the new restaurant coming along?"

  "It's good. I'm glad you and Dad were able to make it out for opening night."

  "We had a wonderful time. It's a lovely restaurant, Flynn. We're so proud of you."

  He smiled. His parents had always been supportive of his career and everything he'd accomplished. Raising five kids hadn't been easy, and a lot of that burden had fallen on his mother when they were all younger, because at the time his father had still been playing football. He had a lot of admiration for his mom. She'd been a full-time lawyer until she'd retired, and had managed to wrangle four unruly boys and one daughter.

  "Thanks, Mom."

  "Anything new on the dating front?"

  He expected the question. "Not at the moment. I'm . . . freelancing."

  "Which means you haven't met anyone special yet. Don't worry. It'll happen for you."

  "I'm in no hurry."

  "Well, when it does, you let me know, okay?"

  It would suit his mother to have all her kids coupled up. "You know I will."

  "Oh, and Mia will be out there soon. Did she tell you about visiting Stanford?"

  "Yeah, she told me. She's going to bunk in the guesthouse."

  "All right. You keep an eye on her while she's there. I know she talks an independent game, but she's still my little girl."

  He smiled. His sister was an adult now, but to their mother, Mia would always be the baby of the family. "I'll keep her imprisoned in the house and take away all communication devices."

  His mother laughed. "I don't think we have to go that far. Just make sure she stays safe while she's there, Flynn."

  "That I can do."

  "Thank you. I'll talk to you soon. I love you."

  "I love you, too, Mom. Bye."

  He'd avoided telling his mom about the fix-up date tonight. Mainly because he figured nothing would come of it. He rarely discussed his romantic life with his mother--or any other member of his family. They all had a tendency to butt in and offer unsolicited advice, which he neither needed nor wanted. Everyone except his mom, who never offered advice. She just got her hopes up, and he didn't want her to be disappointed.

  He went to his desk and did some work on his computer for an hour or so, then kicked back and watched sports on TV until it was time to get ready. He chose a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. Mick had told him it was casual, but since he was going to have a date, he made sure to choose a new pair of jeans and a nice shirt. After putting on his shoes, he slid his watch on, then climbed into his SUV and headed over to Mick and Tara's house.

  They had a nice place over in Half Moon Bay, on the golf course because Mick liked to play golf. And since Tara wasn't often with him, it gave Mick something to do in his downtime. Flynn would sometimes go over there and play a round with him.

  It was a great golf course, and Mick's house sat on the fifteenth fairway. Pretty sweet.

  Flynn parked in the oversized driveway, then went to the front door and rang the bell.

  Mick opened the door. He had a bottle of beer in his hand and offered up a wide smile.

  "Hey, Flynn. Come on in."

  "Thanks." Flynn walked inside and followed Mick to the expansive living area, where a crowd had already formed. He made a beeline for the Sabers players
, since those were guys he knew and liked.

  Even if they were offensive players.

  "Hey, Flynn."

  "Hey, Randy." Randy LaSalle was the star wide receiver for the Sabers. He'd come to the team right out of college and had done great with them.

  "Where's your wife?"

  "One of the kids has the flu so she couldn't make it. She's not too damn happy about it, either. Almost made me stay home so she could come. You know how she feels about Tara."

  Flynn laughed. "Yeah, I know." Everyone on the team loved Tara. She was sweet and generous and truly supportive of Mick and his career. Hell, she supported all of the players.

  Flynn would be lucky to find a woman like that.

  Tara came over. "Hello, Flynn. I'm so glad you're here. I want to introduce you to Skylar. If you'll excuse us, Randy."

  "Sure," Randy said. "Later, Flynn."

  She took him by the arm and led him over to the fireplace. There was a beautiful, auburn-haired woman sitting there sipping a glass of wine and talking to, of all people, Amelia, who looked stunning in a long skirt and long-sleeved sweater.

  For some reason his eyes gravitated toward Amelia, who met his gaze with interest.

  "Hey, Amelia."

  "Hi, Flynn."

  "Flynn, this is Skylar Wilson. Skylar, I'd like you to meet Flynn Cassidy."

  He held out his hand to shake hers. "Nice to meet you, Skylar."

  "Nice to meet you, too, Flynn."

  "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go refill my glass," Amelia said.

  "Me, too." Tara and Amelia left the two of them alone, so Flynn motioned to the fireplace.

  "You found the warm spot."

  She laughed. "Yes, I tend to be cold, and I forgot my sweater."

  "I have a jacket in my car. Would you like me to get it for you?"

  "That's very nice of you to offer, but I'm fine right now. Tara tells me you play football, like Mick."

  "Yes, I do. Do you like football?"

  "I do. I'm a fan of the Sabers, though I guess I don't know all the individual players. Sorry."

  He gave her a smile. "It's not necessary. I'm glad you enjoy the game. What do you do, Skylar?"

  "I'm an artist. I both paint and sculpt. I have a little gallery here in Half Moon Bay. That's where I met Tara."

  "Sounds great. It must be amazing to have artistic ability. Mine doesn't go much beyond the stick figure variety."

  She laughed. "That's okay, because I can't throw or catch a football. We all have our talents."

 

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