The houses in his neighborhood went for five to ten million, minimum. “That’s one hell of a gift.”
“She’s one hell of a mom and more than deserves it. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her,” he explained.
His love for his mom was obvious, and I liked how comfortable he was talking about her. “Don’t worry. You’re too confident to come across as a true momma’s boy.” After placing my gun back in the drawer, I added, “But that wasn’t included on the calendar or expected visitors Whit shared with me last night. Is there anyone else you might’ve forgotten to add? Surprise visitors don’t always go well in my line of business.”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t think to add my mom because I don’t think of her as a guest. But she’s the only one I didn’t add to the list I gave Whit,” he swore.
Heading toward the walk-in closet where Rowan had me unpack my stuff last night since there was more than enough space, I asked, “There isn’t anyone else in your family who stops by and has keys to the place or the code to the security system?”
“Nah, it’s always been just my mom and me.” Rowan grabbed a sweatshirt off a hanger and pulled it over his head. He’d worn a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt to bed last night, and he kept those on.
I tugged a sweater on over my shirt, thanked the creator of my favorite sports bra for being comfortable enough to sleep in, and grabbed a pair of jeans from one of the drawers Rowan had told me to use. “I’m going to pop into the bathroom real quick. Wait for me before you head downstairs please.”
“Sure thing.” He grinned, and I swore I felt it in my ovaries. “If I went down by myself, my mom would just grill me about you anyway. I’m all for you handling her interrogation instead of me.”
Considering all the training I’d received in the military, I figured I was more than up to the task. “No worries. I can handle your mom.”
“That’s what you think,” he chuckled as I shut the bathroom door.
It didn’t take me long to get ready, and then we headed down to the kitchen. The woman busy stirring eggs wasn’t who I’d expected. The resemblance between the two was strong, but she looked way too young to be Rowan’s mom.
“Mom, this is Sera.” Rowan smiled at both of us, looking completely relaxed. “Sera, this is my mom, Rachel.”
“Ahh, the mysterious woman who moved in with you for your protection.” Rachel's dark eyes—so much like her son’s—twinkled with humor. “It's lovely to meet you.”
“You as well.” My greeting came out awkward as hell, but I wasn’t used to meeting a man’s parents the morning after I met the man. Or ever. And certainly not after I’d spent the night in their bed. Even if nothing other than sleeping had happened, and I had a perfectly good reason for being there that had nothing to do with sex—other than the vivid dreams I’d had of Rowan.
A hint of mischievousness filled her eyes as her lips curved up in a grin. “You didn't tell me she was so beautiful.”
“Mom,” Rowan groaned, shaking his head.
“What?” Rachel batted her lashes, putting minimal effort into trying to look innocent. “I'm just saying that I can see how Sera's cover story would easily work. She’s gorgeous, confident, and accomplished. If anything, people will probably wonder what she's doing with you.”
This wasn’t how I pictured the conversation going after Rowan had warned me about facing an inquisition. I tried to bite back my laughter but failed.
“It's going to be like that, huh?” Rowan sighed, shaking his head. “I should've known you two were going to team up against me from the start.”
“Yup, you should’ve,” Rachel agreed, winking at me. “Us women have to stick together.”
“What about team Charles?” Rowan asked as he dumped ingredients into a blender.
“I’m always on your team, bub.” Rachel patted him on the back. Turning to me, she urged, “Please sit. I'll have breakfast whipped up in a jiffy, and the coffee is already brewing. I made extra just in case you wanted some. My boy here sticks to a pre-workout supplement and a god-awful smoothie in the mornings during the season.”
I perked up at the mention of coffee, but a frozen fruity drink sounded good, too. “What kind of smoothie?”
“A super-healthy, protein-enriched one.” Rachel made a gagging sound. “They’re disgusting, but he's been drinking a variation of them ever since he started bulking up in high school. Honestly, I have no idea how he manages to choke them down.”
Rowan shrugged his broad shoulders as he ambled over to the fridge. “You get used to them after a while.”
“But why should you when I can make you a perfectly good breakfast that tastes a million times better?” his mom argued, shaking her head.
“I’m a football player, Mom. I've got to do what it takes to stay in peak physical condition,” he reminded her after pouring his smoothie into a glass and taking a gulp of the dark green mixture.
Rachel flashed him a soft smile. “Not for too much longer. At least you’ll be able to eat whatever you want soon.”
Rowan tensed at his mom’s reminder that he was going to be leaving the game soon. To ease the tension, I joked, “It can't be worse than some of the MREs they served us in the military.”
“MRE?” his mom echoed, spooning scrambled egg whites on a plate already loaded down with turkey sausage and whole grain toast.
“They’re meals ready to eat, but calling them a meal is overstating things by a lot,” I explained, taking the plate from her as I slid on the stool at the counter next to Rowan. “One of the best things about getting out of the military was never having to see another one of those again, but it’s rare for me to eat a home-cooked meal like this.”
Rachel patted my hand. “I love to have people to cook for, so plan on plenty more while you’re here. It’s the least I can do since you’re helping to keep my son safe.”
It was messed up, but between Rachel’s cooking and my attraction to Rowan, I was starting to hope this case remained unsolved.
Rowan
“I'm driving.”
Sera's announcement stopped me in my tracks. “I'm sorry, what?”
She tossed the keys she was holding into the air and caught them. “I'm driving,” she repeated.
That’s what I thought she’d said. I was the kind of guy who didn't like to have other people behind the wheel when I was in the car, but I didn't want to be a dick about it with her. “Do you know where we're headed?”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “Nice try, but I know where the stadium is.”
I had to give it to her; it was a stupid question. “Of course you do.”
“You can wipe that concerned look off your face. I'm not just a good driver, I’m an excellent one,” she boasted.
“It's not that—”
“No, I get it,” she interrupted. “Most guys aren't comfortable with a woman driving them around. But in this instance, you're going to need to get used to it.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Because I've been extensively trained in both offensive and defensive driving. If anything happens on the road, I need to be the one behind the wheel.”
I considered her explanation and nodded. “That makes sense to me.” I pulled my key fob out of my pocket and tossed it to her. “But I think we should take my ride. It's a little less noticeable than yours.”
“I’m cool with driving your SUV.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But why do I feel like you're expecting me to let you drive my baby if you let me drive yours.”
I grinned at her. “Probably because it’s what I’m hoping for.”
She started walking toward my SUV before saying, “Not gonna happen. Nobody drives her but me.”
“I used to be able to say that about my ride, too,” I grumbled good-naturedly.
She didn’t look the least bit guilty as she grinned at me, but she sure as fuck was gorgeous. “Too bad, so sad.”
I shook my head and chuckled as we climbed
in to the vehicle. After she pulled out of my driveway, she asked, “Do you always start your day this early? Your schedule for this week looked pretty brutal.”
“In season, yeah. I pretty much live and breathe the game twenty-four seven. Team meetings, offense meetings, practices, media sessions; it all adds up.”
She asked questions about my daily routine until we were a few minutes from the stadium. “I never realized how much effort went into playing sports professionally. I have to admit it's more than I expected.”
“I can’t really complain, though,” I chuckled. “Not when I'm getting paid millions of dollars to play a game I love. I work hard, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to the effort you put in when you served our country.”
“Yeah, a soldier’s schedule is intense. But my time in the military paid for my education, gave me lifelong friends, and ultimately led to a career I love.”
“And to me,” I murmured under my breath as she pulled into the stadium’s lot.
The guy who manned the gate at the players’ entrance spotted me in the passenger seat and stepped forward to stop the car. “Hey, Rowan. Everything okay?” he asked after Sera rolled the window down.
“More than good,” I confirmed. “This is my girlfriend, Sera. I'm going to give her a quick tour before I head in to the weight room.”
“Nice to meet you, ma'am.” The guard nodded and jotted something down on his clipboard. “Make sure you guys check in with security inside so they can get her a badge. I'll call and let them know you're coming.”
It was still early enough that Sera was able to snag a primo spot near the doors. As we were walking toward the entrance, I rested my palm against her lower back. Feeling her gun holstered there, I jerked my hand back and whispered, “I don't think you're allowed to have that while you're in here.”
“You can count on me having a weapon at all times. It's non-negotiable where your safety is concerned. I’m sure ownership will understand. The last thing they want is for their star player to get hurt while he's on their property. If I get caught with it, I'll figure out a way to talk myself out of trouble.” She didn’t look too worried about the possibility. “It shouldn’t be too hard since I have a concealed carry permit along with a private investigator’s license.”
I opened the door and waited for Sera to go ahead of me. When I spotted the guard waiting for us just inside, I groaned. I'd never had a problem with him personally, but I'd heard a few of my teammates complain that the guy thought of himself as a ladies’ man and wasn't afraid to flirt with their women. He was related to the GM and felt like his job was secure.
“I had to come down and see this for myself,” he drawled when we got close.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“I heard hell had frozen over, and you brought a girl to the stadium.” He eyed Sera up and down, and I barely stopped myself from punching him in the face. She was pretending to be my girlfriend in order to keep me safe from my stalker, but the instinct to protect her was still there. Or maybe it was because I didn’t want another guy looking at her at all. Jealousy was a new emotion for me, but I was man enough to admit that it was at least some of what I was feeling.
“Not a girl. A woman,” Sera corrected.
“That you are.” The guard pulled a visitor’s badge out of his pocket and went to hang it around Sera’s neck.
He didn’t get far before I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “Thanks, but I’ve got it from here.”
“I’m sure you do.” He leered at Sera’s tits before turning and walking away.
I waited until he was out of our line of sight before growling, “What a little shit.”
“You can say that again,” Sera agreed.
I jiggled the badge, and she let me lift her hair up to drop the lanyard around her neck. After it was in place, she tilted her head back and asked, “You know I could’ve handled him on my own, right?”
“No shit. I saw the way you sparred with Whit. I think you could take anyone in this building in a fight, and that includes our starting left tackle who is six foot eight and three hundred and fifty pounds. I’m not sure why I stepped in”—I was such a fucking liar, but it’s not like I could admit to being jealous—“and I hope I didn’t overstep.”
“You’re fine.” She waved off my concern. “You warning him off me will probably even help with my cover story because I’m sure that little punk isn’t the kind of guy to keep his mouth shut.”
“I don’t know him that well, but from what I’ve heard, you’re probably right.”
“Remind me to put his name at the top of the list of suspects,” Sera muttered. “Even if he’s too stupid to find his way out of a paper bag, thinking it’s wise to make a lame attempt at hitting on a pro football player’s girlfriend while he’s standing right there.”
I hoped he was smarter than he seemed because then I’d have good reason to kick the little douchebag’s ass.
Sera
Rowan and I had quickly fallen into a routine over the past week. With him at the stadium for ten to twelve hours a day, handling close protection detail for him felt more like a vacation than work. His mom seemed to be on a mission to fatten me up because she’d started cooking dinner for us, too. Sleeping with him each night wasn’t a hardship, either.
Attending his game on Sunday was a whole different story, though. I wasn't into football that much. Usually when I watched a game, it was because one of the guys had it on. The downside to most of my friends being male was an overabundance of testosterone and nonstop sports on the television.
Watching Rowan play was different. As corny as it sounded, he truly was poetry in motion on the field. I finally understood why Whit insisted he was the best quarterback in the history of the game. Five minutes into the first quarter, I was already starting to have a new appreciation for football.
“Who are you here for?” I looked over my shoulder and spotted the woman who’d asked the question. She was seated in the row behind me, two seats to my left. I clocked how insincere her smile was in less than a second.
Having run the gamut of judgment when I was stuck on close protection for that asshole baseball player, I knew what came next. The wives and girlfriends club for professional sports players reminded me of high school. Some of the women were truly interested in helping the newest addition fit in, but many of them felt threatened and acted accordingly. This one was definitely part of the latter.
Dealing with women like her was a hell of a lot easier for me now than it had been back when I was a teenager. Being supremely confident in my ability to kick her ass with both hands tied behind my back helped. Not that I would actually get physical with her, but just knowing what I could do took the power out of her hands.
“I'm with Rowan,” I answered.
“Rowan Charles, our quarterback?” she echoed in shock.
I hadn’t wanted to draw too much attention to myself, so my answer had been softly spoken. Apparently, she didn’t have had the same concern because she screeched her response. It wasn’t much of a surprise when the head of every person sitting near us turned our way.
“But he never brings anyone other than his mom to the games,” she stuttered.
I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. She couldn’t make it today, so Rowan gave me her ticket.”
The girl sitting on the other side of her, who looked like she was barely out of high school and was dressed more for the night club than a football game, added, “My best friend couldn't even get him to buy her a drink when he was out with the guys a few weeks ago, let alone ask her on a date or to a game.”
The woman sitting next two seats down from me, who was dressed in an oversized jersey and a pair of skinny jeans with kick ass heels, muttered, “Probably because he's interested in a woman who can hold her own with him. Not a girl who would drop to her knees in the middle of the club for any of the guys if they pointed down at their dicks.”
I made a mental note to have one of the gu
ys look into her best friend. It was doubtful that she was the one sending the notes to Rowan because she didn't fit the profile, but I would not rule anyone out without digging into them. If she was pissed enough over his rejection, it was possible she would’ve done something about it.
“You don't know what you're talking about, Britney,” the girl said. “Marnie is like a thousand times cuter than this chick. It makes no sense that he'd get serious enough with her but not even give Marnie a second glance.”
“And that right there is why you'll never fit in with the wives, and we're all rooting for Dave to wise up and dump your ass.” Her attention shifted to me, and she asked, “What's your name?”
“Sera,” I answered with a grin, really liking Britney’s style.
“Sarah?” The girl rolled her eyes. “See, she even has a boring name.”
“Actually, it's Sera, spelled S-E-R-A. It's short for Serafina.”
“Whoo, boy!” Britney hollered, slapping her knee. “You couldn't have been more wrong about her name if you tried. And if you had more than two brain cells to rub together, you’d look under the surface and realize Sera here is a hell of a lot more interesting than you think. I have a feeling that still waters run deep in this one.”
I lifted my cup and asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Hell, yes,” she agreed, nudging the woman sitting between us to ask, “Switch seats with me?”
“I’ll buy a beer for you, too,” I offered the woman.
“Sure,” she said as she got up. “I’ll take a Miller Lite.”
I flagged down a beer vendor carrying a cold tub of bottles and ordered three. I was on the job and hadn’t planned to drink more than one to fit in, but the bottles were aluminum, so nobody would know I was leaving them half empty. Plus, Whit and Devon were seated about ten rows behind me, so I had backup in case the stalker tried something during the game.
Settling back in to watch as Rowan took the field again, I jumped to my feet and cheered with the crowd when he threw for a touchdown with only thirty seconds left on the quarter.
Team Player 2: A Sports Anthology Page 22