Game for Anything

by Bella Andre

  Panic lit Jay's eyes. "Nothing that can't be solved. You just let me know what you want changed and I'll take care of it."

  Ty stood up, picking up the contract to ensure it got disposed of properly. "We've had some good years, Jay, but it's time for me to take my business elsewhere."

  Jay scowled. "You would have been nothing without me, you little trailer park punk."

  Ty headed for the door feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Maybe, maybe not." The next agent he hired was going to be someone he liked hanging out with.

  Jay clearly couldn't resist a parting shot. "You should be thanking me for hooking you up with that fuck-bunny. I bet her pussy was nice and tight and wet."

  Ty dropped his hand from the silver doorknob. He was this close to doing a diving leap onto his ex-agent and crushing his skull with a few quick hits.

  He nailed Jay with his gaze. "Say whatever you want about me--I don't give a shit. But if anyone even hints that you've said something about Julie, you'd better think about installing an impenetrable security system at your house. And never going outside again."

  Ty left the building and jammed a baseball cap onto his head on the sidewalk. What had Jay meant by "You have me to thank"? Hadn't hiring an image consultant been Bobby's idea? At the time, Ty hadn't thought too hard about how quickly Jay had agreed to Bobby's demands. Maybe he should have.

  Something was definitely up. But before he figured out what it was, he had a favor to call in.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the NFL headquarters. "Steve, it's Ty Calhoun."

  Steve Villers, the vice president of press relations, was a good friend of his, back from his rookie year in Pittsburgh. Steve had retired from the game a couple of years after Ty went pro and had been working for the NFL ever since.

  "Dude, your ears must have been burning."

  Any other time, Ty would have assumed good things were being said. At present, he'd rather not hear the word on the street.

  "I've got a favor to ask you, Steve."

  "Always happy to help out a friend."

  "I don't know if you heard, but I've been working with an image consultant. A great image consultant. Julie Spencer."

  Saying her name aloud brought everything back in a rush. The way she smelled. The taste of her lips. Her curves soft and yielding beneath him.

  Steve chuckled. "Trust me, the situation would have been impossible to miss."

  Ty got straight to the point. "I think she's been a huge asset to the NFL." He wasn't even sure that Julie would appreciate him putting in a good word for her with the league, but he was willing to try anything at this point.

  Besides, if she got this gig then at least he knew he'd see her every once in while. She'd probably act like he was dead, but he'd just keep working on her until she folded under the pressure and gave him another chance.

  "No shit," came Steve's reply. "After we saw how good she made a fuck-up like you look, we knew we needed her. She's thinking over our offer."

  What an ass he was. Of course the League had noticed what an incredible job Julie had done manipulating--and fixing--his image.

  "How about you do me a favor?" Steve said, and Ty knew exactly what was coming.

  "Don't worry. I'm not going to screw things up for you by telling her I think it's a good idea."

  "Are you kidding? She spoke so highly of you, I was going to ask you to put in a good word for us."

  Ty nearly blurted, "She spoke highly of me?" but it sounded too pathetic, even inside his own head.

  Instead he said, "Sure thing, Steve."

  He'd never escaped that night with Julie on the boat, not in ten long years of beautiful women. Too bad he'd been an eighteen-year-old chicken-shit weasel, scared by the thought of her dumping his ass because he was just a poor jock. He'd never even tried to make her understand how intensely he felt about her. He'd thought it was easier to let her walk away.

  He couldn't have been more wrong.

  The next time he saw Julie, he was going to risk his heart, even though he knew the likelihood of getting it crushed was damn high.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Julie stood in the back of the NFL pressroom, more nervous than she'd ever been in all her life. When she thought about what she was about to do, she had to fight the urge to run fast and far.

  Oddly, even though she hadn't known the first thing about football just weeks ago, she wasn't nervous about fielding questions about her new role. Since she'd signed on as a League-wide image consultant two days ago, she'd done her homework with how-to videos and a stack of game tapes and interviews with the best players in the game. Of course Ty was among them. No one had to know that she'd watched his segments over and over.

  All she wanted was a fresh start: just the two of them, and a little bit of trust that hopefully would blossom into a strong and lasting love.

  She scanned the room for the hundredth time.

  Why wasn't Ty here yet? What if something had happened to him? What if he was lying in a hospital somewhere? Would he think to call her?

  Steve Villers pulled out a chair beside him and Julie tried to focus on the welcome speech the NFL's commissioner was giving, even though all she could think about was seeing Ty again.

  The commissioner opened the floor for questions and she wasn't surprised that Bobby Wilson was the first to stand.

  "As I'm sure everyone here already knows, I am the new owner of the Outlaws." He smacked his lips together, looking like a hungry wolf on a three-little-pig hunt. "I've got a question for Miss Spencer, if y'all don't mind."

  Sensing something juicy, the reporters turned their tape recorders his way.

  "First off all, may I say that you are looking just as pretty as ever, Ms. Spencer."

  Julie waited for him to get to the point.

  "I was wondering about something you said to me in my office a few days back." He paused, pushed his cowboy hat an inch to the left. "If I recall correctly, you said you didn't have the necessary skills to fix up an athlete's public image. I do believe that was right before you told me you were not going to work with my boy Ty any longer."

  Just then Ty emerged from a dark corner, looking like he didn't have a care in the world, the way he always did. He raised an eyebrow at her in his cocky way.

  God, she loved him. Every arrogant, gorgeous inch of him.

  "Something I learned recently is that we all make mistakes. Even an image consultant screws up from time to time." She grinned. "I have a feeling that this will come in very handy in working with professional football players."

  Laughter rolled through the crowd and she hoped Ty understood that her words were meant for him.

  "Two weeks ago I knew nothing about football. Like a lot of people, I assumed football players were overpaid, dumb jocks."

  The players groaned.

  "Sorry, guys," she said. "But that's why I've decided to work with the NFL. I've learned a lot about football players: I learned about their integrity and giving, and what's really beneath the surface. The NFL is now my firm's biggest client, and I will devote the bulk of my time and energy to making sure people view both the league and its players in the most positive light imaginable."

  She looked straight at Ty. "Misunderstandings will always happen; that's just the way the world works. But from here on out I vow not to let anyone walk away until we've reached a mutual understanding."

  Bobby nodded. "A very polished answer, Miss Spencer. There's only one problem with that." He waved a nine-by-twelve manila envelope at her. "I've got pictures of you and Ty Calhoun having sex on a balcony in Napa. How are you going to talk your way out of that one?"

  Ty reached Bobby in seconds flat, and yanked the envelope from his hand.

  Before Ty could get his hands around Bobby's fleshy neck, a loud crash sounded from the back of the room.

  A disheveled, obviously drunk man stumbled into the press conference. "Where is that rat bastard?"

  The man wobbl
ed past athletes and writers, finally finding his target in the crowd.

  "You lost me my biggest player!" he screamed at Bobby. "Now that he's gone, everyone else is leaving me. I'll have nothing left soon!"

  Julie quickly put two and two together. Had Ty fired his smarmy agent?

  A plump bead of sweat rolled down Bobby's face.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about." Jay pointed at Bobby with a shaking hand and spittle flew from his lips as he screamed, "You paid me to convince Ty to let some stupid image consultant tail him. You wanted to make Ty look really bad, to get even for what he did to your son."

  Ty stood in the middle of the crowded room between his crazy agent and even crazier boss, and his steady voice cut through the shocked silence. "Your son? Have I met him before?" A second later, recognition dawned. "Joey Wilson? From Texas Football Camp? That was your kid?"

  "He was going to be a star quarterback," Bobby spat, "until you hogged up all the limelight, you fucking bastard."

  "Didn't he want to be a writer or something?"

  Bobby's face turned beet red. "He was best in state until you showed up. Then none of the recruiters noticed him--they only had eyes for you, pretty boy. I told my stupid kid that writers don't matter, great football players do. But he wouldn't listen to me. It's all your fault. And your agent was perfectly happy to take my money to make sure you didn't look for another team."

  A low growl came from the crowd of journalists. It was one thing to be harsh on an athlete. It was another entirely to have their own profession maligned. Security guards, clearly fearing for Bobby's safety, pushed through the crowd and quickly dragged him out the double doors, squealing the whole way.

  As the double doors slammed shut Ty shook his head, amazed at how things had gone down. But the whole mess had brought Julie back into his life, and for that reason alone he was willing to forgive anyone anything.

  Back behind the podium, the commissioner said, "I apologize for the three-ring-circus that just took place, folks. I think we all need a few minutes to regroup and get some air. Let's start up again at quarter till."

  Most of the journalists were already either calling in their stories or typing furiously on their BlackBerries. Ty grinned. He seemed to have a knack for getting press, even when he wasn't trying.

  The commissioner approached him first. "1 want to personally apologize for what just happened. Bobby Wilson will be suspended and his case reviewed. Let me know if there's anything I can do to make things right."

  "Will do." All Ty could concentrate on right now was the woman he loved. He looked through the crowd at where she'd been sitting, but she was gone.

  She was standing right in front of him. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching for her hands, and she said, "No, I am," as she pulled him closer.

  "I was an idiot ten years ago," he said. "I figured you woke up and realized you'd slept with a loser. I thought you were going to leave me." He held her gaze. "So I left you first."

  "I've done a lot of stupid things in my life, but not begging you to give me another chance was the stupidest. Until last week, when I let you go again. You're more important to me than any game, than fame or money. I want to share my dreams with you, Julie. You're all I want."

  Julie's eyes shone with unshed tears. "I couldn't even be honest about my own life, so how could I be honest about my feelings for you? I shouldn't have insisted on keeping our relationship a secret. I was so scared. But I'm not scared anymore."

  Ty took her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips.

  "I've been running my whole life," she whispered against his mouth. "I don't want to run anymore. I want you, Ty. Your past, your future. Everything." She turned her cheek into his palm and pressed a kiss into it. "I never should have thought you were trying to hurt Jack. You made a difficult choice talking to him. The right choice."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Been busy lately, huh?"

  "Jack and I had a nice chat. He wants to apologize to you."

  "No need."

  "I told him that already."

  They moved closer to each other in the crowded room, and ten years fell away.

  "Do you know what I want to do, Julie?"

  She stared at him, holding her breath waiting to hear what he was going to say.

  "I want to kiss you. Do you want to kiss me?"

  Her voice was full of love when she said, "Yes, I do." She went up on her toes to kiss his lips and slipped her panties into his pants pocket. "I love you, Ty. I always have."

  Smiling against her lips, he whispered, "I love you too, Julie. Marry me."

  She smiled back. "I'm game for anything. As long as I'm with you."

  BELLA ANDRE is the author of the Pocket Books novels Red Hot Reunion and the national bestseller Take Me, as well as a collection of three novellas entitled Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me. Her next novel, Game for Seduction, is forthcoming from Pocket Books. A graduate of Stanford University, she is also the author of several Ellora's Cave erotic romance novels and short stories. Bella lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her fabulous husband and children. Visit her online at www.BellaAndre.com

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