by Liz Lincoln
Yep. Professional and friendly.
“I knew athletes worked hard. I just thought it was all hard physical work. I never realized how much hard mental work there is too.”
She needed to stop saying “hard.”
Because he couldn’t take the torture any longer, he grabbed her roaming foot and pulled it onto his lap next to the first.
“But you’re just here for one year, right? I think that’s what Jason told me.”
Her brother. A good reminder of the other reason Seth had to stop himself from crawling across the couch and stretching his body out on top of hers. No matter how much the idea turned him on.
“My agent is already working on an extension. Get me another year.” He tried not to think about that. That was for Mike to worry about until he had something solid to bring to Seth. Fortunately, he was continuing to have one of his best seasons, giving Mike leverage.
Her face softened as she considered him. “Would you go to another team if he doesn’t?”
He exhaled heavily. “I don’t want to uproot Maddie again. This move has been hard on her. She wasn’t always so…” He didn’t even have a word to describe how his daughter had changed in the past few months. “Moody.”
“Part of that is her age. She’ll outgrow it.”
Without realizing, Seth had dropped a hand to Carrie’s ankle and begun slowly sliding his palm over the top of her foot. Now he looked down and watched as he touched her. It felt good to be near her, even if his skin did hum with a desire to grab her.
Professional and friendly.
“Yeah, but another move won’t help.”
“What, then? Would you retire?”
He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He was old and beat-up by NFL standards. He’d already outlasted the average career span of a linebacker. But he didn’t feel done.
Besides, what the hell would he do with himself if he didn’t play football? He had no other marketable skills.
When he met her gaze, there was the usual heat that seemed inevitable between them. But along with it, he saw understanding. Caring. No woman had ever looked at him like that, and he wanted to reach for it, grab it, and hold it close to his heart. Not thinking about what he was doing, he moved her feet off his lap and sat forward.
The buzz of his phone stopped whatever he’d been about to do. Which would inevitably have been something dumb, like kissing her. He scrubbed a hand over his face and pulled his phone from his pocket.
Marcus: Your name’s on the VIP list if you decide to join us.
“Let’s go out.” Before he could talk himself out of it, Seth stood. He grabbed Carrie’s hand and pulled her up too. She ended up too close to him, her body a breath away from touching his.
He took a step back but didn’t let go of her hand.
“Couple guys are going out to Bubbles. Asked me to meet up.”
Confusion crossed her face. “OK. That should be fun.”
He pulled out his best playful smile. “It should. Go change. Come with me.” It was a bad idea. He should go out without her, leave her to her Seinfeld marathon. Even if he didn’t meet a woman, he’d put some distance between Carrie and him. Cool the lust that blazed inside him. It was making him feel a little reckless. Which was probably why he wanted her to come too.
He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like panic flashed over her features.
“No, I…I don’t have anything I could wear to Bubbles.”
“That green corset you have would work.”
He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the surprise on her face was worth it. She looked almost scandalized.
He couldn’t help grinning. “Come on. You’ll look amazing.” Hell, she looked amazing now.
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and Seth had to swallow a moan. Did women do that on purpose, to drive men out of their minds?
“Yeah, OK. Give me ten minutes.” She took a few steps back, gaze locked on his.
His heart pounded hard enough he could feel his pulse in his jaw.
She blinked hard, breaking the connection. “Be right back.”
As soon as she disappeared, Seth headed for his room to change as well. He pulled out his phone to text Marcus.
Seth: Leaving soon. Carrie’s coming too.
He’d changed from his sweatpants to dark jeans when he got a reply.
Marcus: The nanny? Nice. The night’s looking up.
Seth shoved down his irrational irritation as he rolled up the cuffs of his blue button-down shirt, cursing himself for inviting Carrie.
He was in for a hell of a torturous night.
*
—
The music in the club pulsed loud enough Seth could feel the beat in his teeth. It made him think of his dad’s saying about how it made you glad to have a good dentist.
He missed his parents. Until moving to Milwaukee, he’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing them. Now he hadn’t seen them in three months. But Thanksgiving was coming, and luck had the Dragons playing his old team on Thanksgiving Day. Coach had given him permission to stay an extra day in Houston so he could have a holiday meal with his family, and he was flying back Friday morning.
A waitress showed up with their drinks. Seth stood to settle the tab with the woman, since he’d offered to get the first round. He was only having one drink since he had to drive, and he wasn’t about to let one of the other guys pay for it.
He handed the waitress enough cash to cover the eight drinks plus a generous tip, then took his gin and tonic and Carrie’s white wine from the low table. Handing her the glass, he sank back into the cushions.
Damn, did she look hot. She’d worn a sparkly sweater over her corset, but the press of bodies made it warm enough she’d taken it off and draped it over the back of the couch they were on. Her jeans were tight in all the right places, so he could see how perfectly round her ass was. It made him think about digging his fingers into that perfectly round ass as she slid up and down his cock. Which did not help his resolve to think of her as only an employee and friend.
“A toast, guys. To kicking some St. Louis ass on Sunday.” Marcus raised his pint glass and held it over the center of the table. The rest of them held up their drinks, and a series of clinks and murmured agreement followed.
“Is St. Louis good?” Baxter’s girlfriend, Celia, asked.
Seth nearly spit out his drink. But he didn’t feel too bad about almost laughing at her since Baxter was laughing the hardest of any of them.
“I might be a little off, but I think the Stallions have won the division seventy-three times in the last decade. Give or take,” Carrie teased.
Something that felt oddly like pride niggled at Seth’s chest. He liked that Carrie immediately felt comfortable enough with his teammates and their girlfriends to joke around.
“They ain’t winning it this year. That title is ours. Hell, the Lombardi Trophy gonna be ours.” Marcus flashed his lady-killer grin at Carrie. Seth liked that a lot less.
Celia rolled her eyes. “I know so little about football. I know I embarrass Matt.”
Baxter kissed her temple. “Never. Not embarrassing at all for a professional quarterback to have to explain what a field goal is to his girlfriend.”
Jeremy Trask, the team’s kicker, slapped a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Celia. I take that one personally.”
She made a sorry-not-sorry face at him.
“I promise, I don’t know much more,” Carrie said. “My brother played with Seth in college and has worked for the Dragons for almost a decade. I absorbed a few things growing up, but I remembered next to nothing until I took Maddie to a few games.”
“Who’s your brother?” Marcus asked.
“Jason Heron. He’s a talent scout. I’d imagine you guys don’t work with him too much.” Carrie shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“We know who he is,” Kendall Allen said. “I went to Texas A&M. Played these clowns in c
ollege.” He kept his expression stern as he jerked his chin at Seth.
Seth grinned, knowing Kenny was joking around. College rivalries dissolved once players were teammates with former enemies. And Kenny was a hell of a player. Seth was glad to be on the same side of the ball as him.
The group spent the next hour drinking and chatting. Carrie and Celia discovered a mutual interest in some kind of brain research and talked about that while Seth spent more of the time discussing defensive strategies for Sunday with Kenny.
They’d just shifted to which quarterbacks they thought were the easiest targets to sack when a beautiful black woman came over and sat down next to Kenny. She crossed her long legs and Seth couldn’t help staring, even though she was clearly interested in Kenny. Seth was still human, and the woman had fantastic legs.
Speaking to Kenny, she said, “You play for the Dragons, right?”
Kenny grinned lazily and said, “We do.”
She leaned close to him. “My friend didn’t believe me, said y’all would be at home resting. But I knew you looked familiar.” She held out her hand. “Gwennie Morton.”
Kenny took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he bent to kiss it. “Kenny Allen. The rest of these jokers don’t matter.” Still holding her hand, he stood. “Would you care to dance with me, Ms. Morton?”
When she rose, she was nearly as tall as Kenny. His official stats had him at six foot five.
After they headed for the dance floor, Carrie broke off her conversation to ask, “Does that happen a lot?”
Seth paused before answering. Might as well be honest. “All the time. Not just here.”
She frowned. “Women hit on you everywhere you go?”
There had been the woman at the gas station on Tuesday. The grocery store was rapidly becoming a minefield; Carrie did most of the grocery shopping, but he still stopped in to pick up a few things on his own. More than one mom at school had made it clear she was interested in him. He’d taken Maddie out for dinner a few weeks ago and two different women came over to talk to him. The waitress had written her phone number and “Call me, let’s get a drink” on the bill.
His anonymity in Milwaukee hadn’t lasted long.
“Not everywhere.” No one had asked him out when he took Maddie to the comic shop. And it only happened the one time when getting gas.
Carrie’s frown deepened. In the dim, blue-tinted lighting, it somehow made her freckles more prominent. He had an urge to kiss every one of them.
“Sometimes I wish I had that kind of confidence. I get shy enough with regular guys, let alone famous athletes.”
“Technically, didn’t you hit on me at the grocery store first? I seem to recall you giving me your number in the feminine hygiene aisle.” It was corny, but he winked at her.
She put her hand on his chest and leaned back, mock indignation on her face. “Who bought whose groceries? Pretty sure you made the first move. Besides, I didn’t know you were famous.”
He grinned, and she grinned back.
God, he loved her smile. It made him equal parts happy and horny.
“Seth, come here a sec.” Trask stood at the bottom of the three steps leading up to the VIP Lounge. “Couple ladies from Texas out here, one of ’em wants to meet you.”
Seth chanced a glance at Carrie and was more pleased than he should have been at the tight expression on her face. He didn’t want to meet a woman from Texas. He wanted to dance with Carrie.
But he always tried to make time for fans. He could sign an autograph. Carrie would be fine for a few minutes. She was hitting it off with Matt’s girlfriend.
He gave her a wry half smile. “Be right back.”
Her answering smile didn’t make her eyes shine, the way they had a minute ago when they were flirting.
He most definitely should not be flirting with his nanny.
Seth pushed to his feet and followed Trask out of the lounge and through the press of bodies in the club. Maybe he’d have instant chemistry with one of these women, and one look at her would make him forget all about stripping Carrie naked and kissing every inch of her skin, then sliding inside her and giving them both ecstasy.
Fucking hell. Sure, with thoughts like that every seven seconds, he’d totally fall for some other woman. It seemed about as likely as Houston having six feet of snow for Christmas.
Sure enough, Seth did not have an instant attraction to either of the fans Trask introduced him to, Gina and Brianna. They were nice enough, and it turned out Brianna had gone to the high school that was the rival of Seth’s, though a few years before him. Both women were married, so not looking for a hookup, which was a relief. They were simply fans of both the Texans and the Dragons who were outgoing enough to approach Trask when they saw him at the bar.
Knowing Carrie was fine on her own, and that Gina and Brianna weren’t interested in him as anything but a star athlete, Seth was content to chat for a few minutes. He grabbed coasters from the bartender and both guys signed one for each woman. Seth and Brianna compared favorite restaurants in Austin.
They hung out for ten or fifteen minutes, then Seth excused himself to hit the restroom before heading back to the lounge. As often happened, he got snagged twice more by Dragons fans. One guy who was clearly drunk insisted on telling Seth exactly what the Dragons were doing wrong in their running game and how they could fix it. Seth had to assure the guy four times that he would pass on the information to Jaron Edmonds, the starting running back, and the coaches. Only after Seth pretended to text Jaron while the guy watched did he let Seth go back to his friends.
Back in the lounge, Marcus had moved into Seth’s spot on the couch. The tight end had his body angled toward Carrie, his arm stretched along the back of the couch behind her.
But it was her wide smile and shining eyes as she listened to Marcus that really felt like a punch in the gut to Seth. She was flirting with his teammate, a man he knew she found attractive. And Marcus had asked about her more than once since meeting her at the practice facility.
Something an awful lot like jealousy burned in Seth’s chest. It was an unfamiliar sensation; he didn’t know what to do with it. His relationships were always casual, even if they agreed to be exclusive. He didn’t get jealous. But seeing Carrie and Marcus flirting had Seth wanting to grab her and kiss her, to mark her as his.
Except she wasn’t.
Maybe he needed to find a new nanny. His plan to simply get over his attraction to Carrie clearly wasn’t working.
Trying not to show how grumpy he suddenly felt, Seth dropped onto the chair across from Carrie and Marcus. “Hey.”
“Back so soon?” Carrie’s expression was hard to read as she glanced over at Seth. Was he flattering himself, or was her voice sharper than usual?
He shrugged one shoulder. “They weren’t looking for a hookup. Just fans who wanted autographs.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Trask has to get you to talk to two women, and neither wants to get wit’ you?”
“Both married.”
Marcus cut his gaze to Carrie, then back to Seth. Christ, were they that transparent? When Seth did the same back to Marcus, glancing at Carrie, then back to the tight end, Marcus’s smile turned into a grin. His gaze seemed to be challenging Seth.
“Dance with me.” Seth rounded the table to Carrie, took her hand, and tugged until she rose to her feet.
Where had those words come from? He didn’t even particularly like dancing. But from their position in the VIP lounge, they could see the dance floor. Something about all those bodies pressed together, moving in a rhythmic mass, made him feel like he had to take Carrie and join them. Had to hold her against him and torture them both as they rubbed against each other.
And he wanted her the hell away from Marcus. Which was asinine. But he didn’t want her hooking up with one of his teammates.
Maybe he should take her home so they could have desperate, needy sex and get it out of their systems. Maybe they wouldn’t ev
en make it to his bedroom; he could shove her jeans down and fuck her against the front door. Or toss her on the couch, throw her legs over his shoulders, and eat her delicious pussy until she came on his face.
Shit. He had to stop these fantasies. It would be embarrassing as hell to blow his load in his pants in front of his teammates. But he was so turned on, it wouldn’t take much more than the brush of Carrie’s hand over the front of his pants.
Still, maybe he was onto something. Maybe it was time they stopped fighting their attraction. Because it sure as hell wasn’t going away.
Carrie tugged her hand away from him. “I don’t really dance.” Her gaze darted to Marcus, then back to Seth. “I have the rhythm of a cactus.”
He took a breath to calm his irrational jealousy over her talking with Marcus. “I bet we can find a rhythm.”
Shit. That was way more sexual than he’d intended.
Marcus snorted; Seth shot him a glare over Carrie’s shoulder.
Her cheeks pinked. She dragged her lower lip between her teeth.
Seth swallowed a groan. He wanted to bite that lip.
Maybe they should skip dancing and go home.
But dammit, he liked being out with her. And it wasn’t like anything had changed. They still shouldn’t sleep together. Even if he was willing to risk it, he had no indication she’d changed her mind. They could still dance, though.
He ran his hand down her back and leaned down to speak softly in her ear. “Bring Ivy. I bet she’s got moves.”
Now her expression turned skeptical. “Her moves run more toward poison than hip gyration. But I guess we’ll see what she’s got.”
Seth had no doubt that even if they were the two worst dancers in the place, he’d still get turned on by her. More than he already was.
He was screwed.
He laced their fingers together—a possessive show that felt better than it should—as he led her out of the lounge and to the floor. The crowd was dense and he used his large body to make a path. People tended to move for someone his size. She followed close behind him, hooking two fingers of her free hand into his belt loop.