Game for Love: Game On

by Cat Johnson

  “Are you ready to hear me out now or do I have to keep following you around the country?” She planted her hands on her hips and—dammit—looked adorable. A little spitfire ready to take him on.

  Since it was obvious she had the uncanny ability to find him no matter where he tried to hide, he figured he might as well hear her out. “Fine, but not here.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Where?”

  Certainly not the ranch. He still didn’t know who or what she was. He wasn’t going to give her access to his family and friends at their home. A bar maybe? But he didn’t want an audience for this.

  “Hell, I don’t know.” Frustrated, he knocked the brim of his cowboy hat back a notch and leveled his gaze on her. “You got any ideas?”

  “I have a hotel room just down the road.”

  Trent laughed. Just what he needed, to be trapped with her in a little room with a big bed. As if seeing her again wasn’t doing enough to confuse him.

  “What? Don’t you trust me? I’m not some kind of serial killer.”

  “No, just a stalker.” He shook his head, remembering why he shouldn’t trust her. “How did you find me here?”

  “You’re listed online as a contestant.”

  Dammit, he’d never even considered that. “And in Florida?”

  “The girl in the shop where you bought the baby gift in West Palm posted a status update that you were there.”

  That would make sense, except for one thing . . . “I wasn’t staying in West Palm.”

  “No, but you were driven there in a car with the name of your hotel painted on the door.”

  Trey let out a breath. It wasn’t that she was so good at finding him, but more that he really sucked at hiding. “So basically, I made it easy to find me.”

  She shrugged. “Not easy, but not all that hard.”

  Maybe she wasn’t a fanatic out to kidnap and hobble him like Kathy Bates in that movie. “Okay, fine. We can go to your hotel. But, crap, I forgot I came in the truck with the other guys.”

  “I have a rental car. I’ll drive you there and then bring you to wherever you want later.” She waited a beat before she added, “Tell your friends where we’re going if you’re still afraid I’m going to kill you or kidnap you.”

  He was more concerned about the amount of razzing he’d get for leaving the event early with a pretty girl. Laurel certainly was that. As suspicious as he was of her and her motives, he couldn’t deny she looked damn good today in her tight little shirt, boots and jeans.

  Knowing full well he shouldn’t be going to her hotel room, he realized he was still going.

  “Stay here. I’ll go tell them I’m leaving.” He turned on one boot heel and headed for the truck. As expected Jason, Clint and his grandfather were by the horse trailer unsaddling Jezebel. “I gotta go with . . . somebody. I’ll catch up with y’all at home.”

  Three sets of eyes—four if he counted Jezebel—watched him with interest. Trent knew they’d all seen him make a beeline for Laurel.

  “Where you going?” Jason asked. Of course he’d be the young smartass who couldn’t just let it drop.

  “None of your business.” Trent focused on his grandfather, the only one here he had to answer to. “I have my cell. Call if you need me.”

  The old man laughed. “You do the same.”

  It seemed even his grandfather was going to torment him. There was no fighting it. Trent had done this to himself. Laurel was no buckle bunny but a cowboy couldn’t ditch his buddies to leave a rodeo with a girl without paying the price. Trent gave up trying and turned back to go find Laurel.

  She was right where he’d left her.

  “Come on. Let’s go before I change my mind.” He strode for the parking lot, covering the distance easily with his long legs while she had to work to keep up with him. When he got to where the cars were parked, he stopped and let her take the lead.

  She didn’t comment as she walked to her car and clicked open the locks. Knowing he might live to regret this, he slid into the passenger seat and waited for her to get in.

  “Since we’re alone, why don’t you start your explaining now?” Trent hoped that maybe she could get through it all and he’d never have to set foot into the temptation of her room.

  He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but even as mad as he was he still wanted to tumble into bed with her.

  “No.”

  “No?” He swiveled his head to stare at her. “What do you mean, no?”

  “I want both of us to give our full attention when you read over the file.”

  “The file? Dammit, Laurel. Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m the woman who saved your ass from a false accusation and the heap of bad publicity that would have come along with it, so the least you can do is give me five minutes to drive to my hotel. Okay?”

  Intrigued now, he agreed. “A’ight. But this had better be good.”

  “Oh, it is. Trust me.”

  Shitty track record in the trust department or not, Trent supposed he had to do just that.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Laurel slid the keycard into the slot and pushed open the door. Keeping his resolve firmly in place Trent ignored the bed and walked directly to the desk.

  He crossed his arms over his chest “So where’s this file?”

  “Here.” She reached into the big bag on her shoulder and pulled out a folder.

  Trent’s eyes widened at the sight of it. “You had it with you the whole time?”

  “Yes, but I told you, I want your full attention.”

  “Fine. You have my attention. Now hand over the file.” He reached out one hand.

  She moved closer but held the folder tightly to her chest, right where he wasn’t about to reach for it. “First I have to give you some background.”

  Figuring this might take awhile, he pulled out the chair. He sat and leaned back, settling in for the long haul. “Go on.”

  “A little over a week ago, a very pregnant woman walked into my office, crying and asking me if I could find the father of her child.”

  “Why did she ask you to do this?” He had a feeling he knew the answer already.

  “Because I’m a private investigator.”

  “That figures.” PIs were right up there with reporters in his book. “Go on.”

  “The client gave me the information in this folder. I asked her if I could show you the file and she agreed.” Laurel moved forward and handed the folder to him. Trent opened it and saw a computer printout of the woman who he supposed was the client as Laurel continued, “She asked me to find you, by name.”

  He’d never seen this woman in his life. Fearing the worst, he glared at Laurel. “Why me?”

  “Because the man she’d been with told her that he was you.”

  “And she believed him? My picture is all over the damn internet. How could anyone pretend to be me?”

  Laurel shrugged. “I’ll admit she was a bit . . . gullible. But when he whipped out a credit card with your name on it to pay for dinner and the restaurant ran it with no problem, her story became a little more plausible.”

  “So you believed her? That’s why you came looking for me?”

  “I came looking for you because I knew I had to in order to prove you either guilty or innocent.”

  His anger had returned full force. “And which one did you decide on?”

  “It didn’t take me long to figure out she’d been duped and you were innocent.”

  “Was that before you wrapped your legs around me and asked me to make love to you, or after?” Hurt made his words come out sounding harsh and he didn’t care.

  A look of hurt crossed Laurel’s face but she didn’t flinch. “Before. I’d figured it out before we had dinner.”

  “Well then, over dinner might have been a good time to bring it up, no?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I was already so captivated by you I didn’t want you to throw me out
after I told you.”

  Trent wasn’t sure any woman had ever been captivated by him before. He glanced at one of the papers inside the folder again to give himself some time to absorb all she’d dumped on him in the last few minutes.

  The date in July the woman had said she’d been with him jumped off the page. “This is when I was supposedly in Miami seducing this woman and getting her pregnant?”

  Laurel nodded.

  He pressed his lips together. “That was smack in the middle of the Outlaws’ training camp.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means that I was on lockdown training with the team nowhere near Florida. I couldn’t have left training and gone there even if I’d wanted to. There is no way I could have been in Florida during that week. And you would have known that if you’d bothered to check.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “You could have asked.”

  “How? You’re so protected by your ‘people’ that my client couldn’t even get a call through to you.”

  Trent stood so fast, Laurel took a step back, as if she was afraid of him. He took a second to breathe and steady himself.

  “Laurel, I get it. It still sucks that you believed I was capable—” He shook his head and let it drop. Instead, pulling his cell phone out of his jeans.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “One of my people.” God, he hated that she’d said it, but not as much as the fact it was true. He was what he’d never wanted to be. He hit the number for his manager and listened to it ring until Tom answered. “Tom. It’s Trent.”

  “Hey. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this early into your break.”

  “Yeah, well, my break hit a little bump in the road. Listen, was there anyone, a woman, who tried to get in touch with me over the past say, six months or so?”

  “Um, I don’t know. That kind of thing would go to one of the interns or the lower level staff.”

  Annoyed at that information, Trent moved on to the next matter. “Okay. I need you to do something for me. I need you to run a credit check and see if anything suspicious shows up. There’s a chance someone’s using my name and charging things in Florida since last July.”

  Tom let out a whistle. “Damn. I’ll get on it right away.”

  “And Tom?” Trent set his jaw. “I’d appreciate it if you’d handle this yourself, please. Don’t farm it out to an intern.”

  There was a pause before Tom’s answer. “All right, Trent.”

  Satisfied that his overpaid manager had been sufficiently chastised, Trent disconnected the call and looked at Laurel.

  “You believe me.” It didn’t sound like a question. More of her stating the obvious while being amazed at it.

  “Of course, I believe you.”

  “So you’re not mad at me?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Truth was, he wasn’t mad at her. Disappointed, yes, but no longer angry. “Come here.”

  She covered the distance it took to bring her to him. He wrapped his arms around her back and couldn’t deny how good her arms clasped around his waist felt.

  “You still should have told me.”

  “I know.” She nodded against his chest.

  “Were you really—what was the word you used? Enthralled?”

  “Captivated.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” When he laughed, she punched him in the arm with one fist.

  “Stop laughing at me. And don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Hard not to. I mean, I’m a man who has people so it’s easy to get a swelled head.” He pulled back so he could look down at her, serious now. “I was pretty captivated myself.”

  “You were?” There was hope in her expression.

  “Yup. You even made me break my own rules by spending the night with you.”

  “I’m happy about that.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m glad you were, because I sure wasn’t. So, are you in Texas for long?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it. I booked a one-way flight here because I wasn’t going to leave until you listened to me.”

  She sure was a determined little thing. He liked it.

  “Well, if you’re gonna stay for a bit, I could show you around. I am a native, after all.”

  “I’d like that.”

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He took a step back from Laurel and pulled it out to see Tom’s name. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “You were right. There is someone running up credit card bills in your name. I called the company and they checked the account. He used it today in Miami to check in to a hotel. I called the Miami police. They’re on the way there now to pick him up.”

  “Jeez. A’ight. Keep me informed if you hear anything more.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thank you, Tom.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Amazed, Trent put the phone back in his pocket. Laurel had been right. And without her intervention, who knew how long it would have taken Trent to figure out someone had been pretending to be him.

  “Your guy checked into a hotel in Miami today using a credit card in my name. The police are on the way to pick him up.”

  “Oh my God. You’re amazing. I don’t know how to thank you. You solved my case.” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes.

  Trent wasn’t quite so sure about all that, but he’d accept a pretty lady’s gratitude any day. “Eh, we’ll call it even. You’ve done plenty for me too. Besides convincing your client I wasn’t the father of her baby, you taught me I gotta accept who I am and stop trying to hide.”

  “That’s good, because I really like who you are.” She smiled. “And you hide really badly.”

  He laughed. “I guess I do.”

  “So, you, uh gotta be anywhere tonight?” Laurel asked.

  “Nope.”

  “I could order us in something. I do owe you a dinner. What will it be? Pizza? Or maybe the chef’s special house lo mien? It’s not Little Palm but we could sit on my cheap furniture and eat it in front of the fabulous view of this circa nineteen-nineties television.” Laurel stepped into his arms again.

  “That all sounds pretty good to me.” He pulled her closer.

  “Me too,” she agreed.

  “But a little bit later, a’ight?” He lowered his head and hovered just shy of her lips. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”

  “Okay.” The heated look in her eyes told him she wanted the same thing. He closed the small distance between them and pressed his mouth to hers.

  Tomorrow, he’d bring her to the ranch and introduce her to everyone. But for now, he was very happy just where they were.

  If you enjoyed Game On, please consider leaving a review at Amazon and Goodreads, and check out the other super-sexy alpha bad boy heroes by Cat Johnson available at Amazon.com.

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  ABOUT CAT JOHNSON

  A New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Cat Johnson writes contemporary romance featuring sexy alpha heroes, men in uniform, and cowboys. Known for her unique marketing and research practices, she has sponsored pro bull riders, owns a collection of camouflage and western wear for book signings, and a fair number of her friends/book consultants wear combat or cowboy boots for a living. She writes both full length and shorter works and is contracted with Kensington and Samhain.

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