Fighting for Redemption (The Elite Book 4)

by Nicole Flockton

  16

  The sun warmed Brett’s back as he squatted down and spoke to the small boy in front of him who was digging holes five inches apart in preparation for the planting of the flowers for the butterfly garden.

  “Hey Paul, you’re doing a great job there. Keep it up.” The sandy blond haired boy smiled up, his grin infectious.

  Brett laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair before moving on to the next kid, Stuart, who was tightening the screws on the wooden bench he’d put together earlier.

  Their garden was coming together nicely. However, it was only a small part of the overall plan for the school. The next project they were going to work on was to fix up the existing playground equipment and hopefully get some new apparatus for them to play on.

  “Stuart, my man, look at those muscles you’re building there.”

  The boy laughed at him. “Yeah, I’m going to get all the pretty girls.”

  “Hey, don’t just limit yourself to the pretty ones.” He sat down on the dirt and crooked his finger to the boy, encouraging him to come closer. “Sometimes the smart ones are just as good as the pretty ones.”

  “Ugh, all the smart ones want to do is read books. Books are boring. Besides, I’m going to play football. All the girls like football players.”

  Brett remembered thinking the exact same thing when he was in school. Girls with their noses stuck in books were boring. Those girls didn’t fawn over him like the ones who wanted to be seen with the athletes. Nothing had changed when he hit adulthood. It was as though being an athlete of any sort meant you were a magnet for all types of women. He couldn’t deny he’d enjoyed the notoriety being an Olympian gave him when it came to girls, and at only twenty-five, he should still be enjoying the spoils of who he was and what he did. Up until two months ago, he had been, and then he’d met Cassandra and her plan to repair his image. Strangely, he found it hadn’t been so difficult to change his bad boy ways.

  “You know what, Stuart my man, you’re right. The girls do want the football players. I know you’ve got a few years before you worry about it, but look beyond the pretty girls. Some of the best girls are the ones staring you straight in the face. Only you might be too dumb to see it until it’s too late.”

  At the wide-eyed look on Stuart’s face, Brett knew he’d gone way too deep for a ten-year-old to take in. He smiled at the boy. “Enough girl talk. Let’s get down to business so we can win this contest.”

  Brett held up his palm and Stuart high fived him. Giving himself a mental shake, Brett focused on the task at hand, and not on wondering if Cassandra had been one of the girls who’d gone for the athletes or if she’d been a bookworm type of girl.

  * * *

  Collapsing on his couch after a hot shower, Brett grabbed his phone to check for messages.

  It had been a great day. They’d achieved a lot and he’d almost forgotten that he was being filmed. Having to re-take some scenes because there was a shadow covering his face or a bird squawked as he said something sucked. Even the kids thought it was weird. Wasn’t it supposed to be a reality show and not scripted or staged? He soon found out how wrong that misconception had been. He was also getting tired of the attempts by the producer to up the competitive streak between him, Mitch and Drake. Tired of them trying to create drama between Mitch and him when they’d actually started back on the road to being friends.

  The phone buzzing in his hand jolted him out of his introspection. He looked at the caller id flashing on the screen. He wavered between sending the call to voicemail or answering it. In the end, he swiped to accept.

  “Hey Cassandra, what can I do for you? I’m home, by the way. You can check your big brother app to confirm that if you want.” He kept his voice deliberately cool, still not ready to forgive her after the conversation they’d had on Sunday in this very room. After another discussion, he’d agreed to leave the app on his phone.

  Her sighed echoed down the line. “I don’t check it all the time. And…well…it doesn’t matter.”

  A beeping had him pulling the phone from his ear. She’d hung up on him? What the hell?

  No. He squashed that thought, didn’t believe it. Cassandra wouldn’t have hung up on him. She was too professional to do something like that. The call probably dropped. She’d call back any second now.

  The phone remained ominously quiet in his hands. This time it was him sighing out loud. He’d been an ass when he’d answered the phone. So what if she’d put an app on his phone. Was it really the end of the world? No, not the end of the world, but still something she should’ve told him about.

  Unlocking his phone again, he swiped the screen until he located the icon for the offending app. He tapped it open and waited. Finally the screen showed two round circles, one displaying his location and the other showing Cassandra’s. He tapped the circle. Her location wasn’t her office, and since it was after eight in the evening, that wasn’t a surprise.

  Brett tapped a finger against his lips as a thought formed in his mind. If Cassandra could turn up unannounced on his doorstep, it was only reasonable that he could do the same thing to her.

  Before he could talk himself out of the idea, Brett was up and in his room, changing his sweats and t-shirt for jeans and a sweater. He was out the door and in his car, heading toward making amends. Something he hadn’t done too often in his life.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into Cassandra’s driveway. He turned the motor off, taking a couple of deep breaths before getting out and striding up to her front door.

  “This is stupid,” he muttered has he pressed her doorbell. The chime echoed around the night. “She’s not going to answer her door this late in the evening.”

  The door opened. “Brett? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  Dressed in black yoga pants and a bright pink tank that hugged her curves, she looked sexier than anything else he’d seen her in so far. With blood heading south, so did his smooth-talking technique.

  “Why are you answering the door this late without asking who’s there?” he demanded.

  “If you’re going to be rude, I’ll just slam the door in your face.”

  Brett closed his eyes and counted to five. This wasn’t how he’d planned to greet her. Hell, he’d known this was a stupid idea.

  “Sorry. But you know, it’s late.”

  “Exactly, it’s late. But if it will put your mind at ease.” She paused and pointed to the corner of the porch. Following her finger, he found a video camera. “If I don’t know who’s ringing my doorbell, I don’t answer the door. So why are you here so late, Brett? Better question is, how did you find me?”

  The fact she had a security system made him feel a little happier. Which was silly. He had no reason to be worried about Cassandra.

  Keep telling yourself that. If you don’t care or worry about Cassandra, why are you standing on her doorstep?

  Brett ignored the voice inside his head and held up his phone to show her the open app. At her nod of recognition, he continued. “Can I come in?”

  Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, as though she was trying to work out if she really wanted to let him in or make good on her word of shutting the door in his face. She stood back, allowing him access to her house. He walked in and continued into the living room she indicated with a wave of her hand.

  He stood in the middle of the room, looking around. A TV was mounted on the wall and on the coffee table sat a laptop with papers surrounding it.

  “You’re working?” he asked.

  Cassandra walked in, closed the lid of her laptop, and then bent to collect the papers, placing them in a neat pile on her computer. Brett bit back a groan as the fabric of her pants stretched across her ass.

  She straightened and looked at him, arms across her chest, the action not helping his growing erection.

  “Why are you here, Brett?”

  He moved until he stopped just in front of her. Her eyes widened in what he guessed was surprise, her chest rising up
and down a bit quicker than it had been moments before.

  Well, now isn’t this interesting?

  She may have denied that they should kiss again, but her body was definitely giving him the signals she was interested.

  He reached out and touched her cheek, her skin soft and smooth. Was she like this all over? Would she let him find out?

  Sliding his hands through her hair to cup the back of her skull, he lowered his head and kissed her. It appeared to be a night of not thinking things through. At the moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the woman in his arms.

  With a moan, Cassandra softened in his arms and opened her mouth beneath his. He tightened his grip and suppressed his own moan when her hands slipped beneath his shirt and up his back.

  Previously he would’ve already taken her to bed and, in all likelihood, moved onto his next conquest within a couple of days. He didn’t want to treat Cassandra that way.

  Breaking the kiss, Brett peppered small ones along her jaw until he reached her earlobe. “This isn’t what I came over here for,” he whispered. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed we’re kissing again.”

  “We really shouldn’t be doing this.” She tilted her head, giving him better access, the action in total opposition to her words.

  “Yes, we should,” he said as he found the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.

  He moved his hand up the side of her body until he reached the side of her breast. Needing to taste her again, he transferred his attention from her neck back to her lips while his thumb brushed across her nipple through the thin fabric of her top. The urge to take it further overwhelmed him. To learn all the places that gave her the most pleasure. To make her his and his alone.

  Sanity returned and he pulled away from her the second he finished the thought. After the accident, he’d vowed he would never get into a long-term relationship. How could he have happy-ever-after when two people he cared about would never have their own?

  “You’re right. We shouldn’t do this,” he said as he released his hold on her. After a deep breath, he almost believed he had himself under control and wouldn’t reach out to drag her back into his arms. “I didn’t come here to do that.”

  “Uh huh. You already said that.”

  Hell, he’d just said the wrong thing, again. What was it about Cassandra that made him constantly put his foot in his mouth?

  He started to speak again, but she held up her hand. “Look, I’m not sure why you’re here, Brett, because you haven’t told me. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that us kissing is a bad idea.”

  It was true she had told him, but she hadn’t given a reason apart from the client relationship they had. “Yes, you do keep saying that. The interesting thing is, even though your mind is telling you that kissing me is wrong, your body is telling me to keep going. Every time we share a kiss, you’re with me every step of the way. You want this as much as I do, Cass, so don’t even try to deny it.”

  As the blush crept up over her face, Brett knew he’d hit a bullseye. The ball was well and truly in her court.

  The question was, would she lob it back or let it pass her by?

  17

  It took everything in her not to look away. The blush currently burning her cheeks verified his words—she did like it when he pulled her close. No matter how wrong it was.

  “Fine, yes, I enjoy kissing you. Who wouldn’t? That doesn’t mean we should take it any further.”

  “Why not?”

  “There are so many reasons. You’re my client, Brett. I’m trying to improve your image. Can you imagine the headlines? Bad boy Brett Hunter’s at it again, this time with his Image Consultant. It may not bother you, since you almost seem to enjoy the bad publicity, but I don’t. Nor do I want anything to happen to Frank’s business. Plus, you’re younger than me. And, quite honestly, I’ve done the whole relationship with an elite athlete. I’ve got the divorce to go with it. So, yes, while I enjoy kissing you, it would be a bad career move for the both of us to take it any further.”

  “What if, after everything you’ve said, I still want to pursue a relationship with you?”

  Cassandra choked back a laugh. “You don’t do relationships, Brett. You do the easy lays.”

  A moment’s remorse pierced her heart when his face blanked of all expression. Yes, she’d gone too far, but it wasn’t anything but the truth. She had a file full of headlines attesting to how quickly he changed his tastes in women. There was no doubt that he’d controlled the urge to hit the clubs since he’d signed the contract with her company. After he’d finished filming the show would be the big question as to whether he fell back into his old habits.

  A jab of pain hit her at the thought of Brett holding another woman the way he’d held her tonight. She couldn’t be jealous, could she?

  Oh, shit. This is not good. Not good at all.

  “I came here tonight to apologize for the way I answered the phone, not to be insulted. Maybe it would be best if I worked with someone else until we finish the show.”

  There was finality to his words. In that moment, Cassandra knew she couldn’t let that happen.

  “No. Besides it being too complicated to get someone else to take over, Frank wouldn’t allow it. He’s never allowed consultants to switch clients. Also, your contract with us doesn’t end when shooting finishes. There will be publicity events leading up to the premiere of the first episode and, of course, after the show has aired.”

  “Well then, what are we going to do, Cassandra? Because I’m all ears.”

  That was the sixty-four-thousand dollar question and no answer was ideal. It wasn’t a part of the contracts to not become involved with a client. However, there was an unwritten rule. A rule she wasn’t sure had been broken by anyone at Star Images. Did she want to be the first to push the boundaries?

  Whoa! Why was she even giving the possibility of something happening between her and Brett the light of day?

  Because for the first time since her divorce, her body was energized at the thought of what the day would bring. It wasn’t like she’d been celibate since her divorce, but none of the guys she’d kissed, or even slept with, had set her insides alight like one touch of Brett’s lips against hers caused.

  It would never work.

  It could never work.

  Cassandra chanced a look at Brett and saw him watching her, an intense expression in his eyes.

  What was he thinking?

  “It’s damn confusing, isn’t it?” he murmured as he closed the gap between them and slid an arm around her.

  “What’s confusing?”

  “All the thoughts going through your mind. The reasons you said it could never work being crushed by thoughts of maybe it could.” He leaned down and rubbed his cheek against hers. Gooseflesh sprung up over her arms. “Everything you said is valid. Yes, I’m younger than you. Yes, I own my reputation as a bad boy. Yes, I’m an elite athlete. But isn’t life too short to not leap when something as strong as this attraction between us comes into it? Life can be cut off in an instant. I never want to wonder, what if anymore. Especially if that what if is with you, Cass.”

  Before she could even form an answer, he kissed her again. A soft, sweet kiss. A kiss over too soon. A kiss that spoke volumes between them.

  Confusion reigned supreme over sensible thoughts. He fried her brain whenever he touched her. Surely that must mean something. Did she really want to take the risk, though? So much could go wrong for both her and him. His career was already on thin ice. Hers had the potential to sink if she took the proverbial plunge.

  Cassandra opened her mouth and closed it again; unable to form the words she knew he wanted her to say.

  “I think you should go,” she said on a whisper.

  Being as close to him as she was, his sigh shuddered through her as it shuddered through him.

  “Perhaps you’re right.”

  The expectation that he would kiss her again flowed over
her, like water from a tap. Instead he brushed his cheek against hers and walked out, his soft goodbye echoing around the room as if he’d shouted it.

  Only after hearing her front door close did she pull herself out of her stupor. The man was lethal and hard to resist.

  What on earth was she going to do?

  * * *

  Sitting behind the director and cameramen, Cassandra’s view of a shirtless Brett was slightly obscured. The urge to move her chair to give herself a better angle of him was hard to ignore.

  Maybe she could go get something to drink from the craft services table and then stand to the side so she could watch him work. He was pretty amazing with the kids. They laughed with him and looked up at him as if the sun rose and shone off Brett’s back. The public would definitely be seeing a different side to him. The Brett that, for some reason, he kept hidden. As shooting had progressed, she’d realized the person he was in front of the camera wasn’t a lie. It also wasn’t the bad boy image the public had grown to dislike over the last year and half.

  Even his dealings with Mitch and Drake had been drama free, no matter how hard the director tried to manipulate the situation. All three men joked good-naturedly with one other. It came across to everyone on set that the dynamic between them all would be ratings gold. They didn’t need to manufacture drama. And because the recipients of the prize at the end of the day were school children—this show shouldn’t be like most other reality shows on television, with the cast fighting and hurling horrid names at one another. Cassandra was sure the public was going to love the show and tune in every week.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket, giving her the excuse she’d been looking for to give herself a better vantage point to watch Brett as he shoveled out sand in preparation of planting some shrubs.

  Glancing at her screen, she saw Frank’s name flashing up at her. She connected the call and walked away from the crew.

  “Hey Frank, what’s up?”

  “Cassandra, I need you to look into something.”