Ruff and Tumble

by Lucy Gilmore

  He turned to Hailey with the phone held out. “Anything you’d like to add?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Building a roster. It’s only fair. You’ve spent the past few months assessing and getting to know the animals. If I’m going to have a chance at picking a winning team, I need basic stats from all of them. Philip has promise, but I’d like to see who else there is to choose from.”

  As he hoped, this focus on football and puppies—the only two things that didn’t seem to fluster Hailey—worked in breaking down any of the barriers that remained between them. Stalking forward, she yanked the phone out of Cole’s hand and held it to her lips. “Cole the football player. Thirty-two years old and not in charge of this project. Despite his years of being the center of attention, this is supposed to be about the animals, not him.”

  Cole felt a laugh well up from somewhere deep within him. He also took his phone back and kept the recorder going. “Hailey the puppy lady. Twentysomething and adorable as all get-out. Doesn’t play well with others, but that’s okay. I’ve always liked a challenge.”

  Somewhere in the middle of his assessment, Hailey’s eyes had grown wide. If Cole had to guess, he’d say the cause was that bit about being adorable, but he didn’t regret his words. She was adorable. Flushed with pleasure, squaring up for battle, more belligerent than his sister’s birth-room attendant—there was something seriously wrong with him to find the combination of those three things appealing, but that was no surprise. He’d been saying he was broken for years, and no one believed him.

  Since he was holding the phone out of Hailey’s reach, she couldn’t snatch it back to list more of his faults, but that didn’t stop her. She drew so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her and got up on her tiptoes. As before, she didn’t take advantage of their proximity to touch him in any way, but that didn’t seem to matter in the slightest. The almost-but-not-quite touching, the way he could sense the shape of her body rather than feel it, was working much more powerfully on his blood flow than he could have anticipated.

  “Cole the liar,” Hailey said, her voice carrying up to his phone. “Not going to get his way with empty compliments. Some of us have work to do today.”

  “Hailey the disbelieving. Should probably back down, or she’s going to get kissed. Immediately.”

  Her mouth fell open and stayed there, a look of surprise warring with something more—something that looked a lot like invitation.

  Which was why he made good on his threat—not quite immediately but after a few more intoxicating seconds. The rules of fair play that had been instilled in him since he’d first touched a football meant he would give her an opportunity to decline. There was ample time for her to back down or relinquish her ground.

  She did none of those things. With a defiant toss of her head, she tilted her lips so they were within easy reaching distance.

  I dare you, she seemed to be saying. You don’t have the nerve.

  He almost didn’t, but there was something about the soft part of her mouth that he couldn’t resist. Her full lower lip, the curve of a mocking smile, the quick, panting breath that escaped before he made contact—it would have taken a much stronger man than him to pull away at that juncture.

  In terms of kisses, it wasn’t Cole’s most impressive performance. Over the years, he’d come to learn that women had certain expectations when it came to being kissed by a professional quarterback with a reputation like his. They wanted mastery and confidence—a man as powerful and in control as the one they saw every week on the TV. In this, as in all things, expectation weighed heavily on his shoulders.

  But with Hailey, all he did was brush his mouth lightly against hers. It was a whisper of a kiss, more suggestion than reality, and all the more powerful because of it. He had just enough time to make out the outline of her lips and the taste of her breath, to enjoy a warm rush of anticipation that crept up from his toes, before he felt the sharp stab of teeth on his pinkie finger.

  “What the—” He reared back and snatched his hand to his chest in a move that was mostly instinct. Glancing down, he found Philip smiling up at him, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. “Your puppy just bit me!”

  It took Hailey a moment to respond. Out of the corner of his eye, Cole could see that she’d gone pink with embarrassment—that his kiss had, for all its brevity, unsettled her. One look at Cole standing there with his hand clutched against him, and that sentiment fled.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” she scolded with a cluck of her tongue. She knelt next to the puppy, heedless of her knees on the soggy ground. “He was just trying to get your attention. Weren’t you, Philip? You haven’t had nearly enough love in your life.”

  Now that the initial shock had worn off, Cole realized his reaction had been more surprise at those razor-sharp puppy teeth than actual pain. Instead of admitting as much, however, he doubled down.

  “My finger will have to be surgically reattached,” he protested. “I’ll never throw a football again. What’ll your boss say now?”

  “That you’re being dramatic.” Hailey nodded up at his hand, which was, to be fair, perfectly fine. “He didn’t even break the skin.”

  “Not all trauma is visible on the outside,” he said.

  Hailey’s eyes narrowed, and a look of steely determination took over. Once again, she was making it very easy for Cole to read her thoughts. Whatever positive feelings she’d been harboring toward him in the aftermath of that kiss were gone.

  “You have no idea what trauma is,” she said. “Not the great Cole Bennett. Not a man with a contract like yours and a mom who carries around a scrapbook of his childhood injuries. Not a man who could buy a hundred of these shelters and give homes to every unwanted dog in the city.”

  So that was the game they were going to play, was it? He held out a hand—his uninjured one—and pulled Hailey to her feet. In a move of pure perversity, he didn’t let go, either. He kept her warm, slightly muddied palm next to his, his grip strong and his determination stronger.

  “You think I don’t know what trauma is?” he asked. “You think I haven’t felt pain?”

  She faltered but didn’t lose her ground. “Physical pain, yes. But everyone’s felt that at some point in their lives—and most of them don’t have twelve doctors and physical therapists to help them get over it.”

  “What about the sting of rejection?” he returned.

  She released a disbelieving chuff of air. “Please. When have you ever been rejected?” It must have been a rhetorical question, because she yanked her hand away and put it on Philip’s head before Cole could answer. “This puppy was abandoned before he even knew the meaning of home. He was dropped off here, unwanted and neglected, with the assumption that someone else would make him their problem. But he’s not a popular breed, and the shelter doesn’t have the resources to give him the attention he requires, so he spends most of his nights curled in a ball on a concrete floor, crying for someone to love him. That’s rejection. That’s what it feels like to have nothing.”

  Although Cole’s chest gave a lurch at the picture she’d conjured up, he held himself firm. He was no monster; he already knew there was no way he was leaving this place without Philip. He wasn’t the dog Cole would have chosen to break his thirty-two-year stint of not having a pet, but there was something about the puppy’s fierce vulnerability that appealed to him.

  That dog needs me. Not because Cole was a good quarterback and not because he could sell magazines and sportswear but because he had a heart in his chest and blood in his veins.

  “He’s welcome to spend the next twenty-eight nights with me, but only on one condition.” Putting stipulations on his care of the dog wasn’t Cole’s best move, but it was all he could think of. If Hailey only cared about football and puppies, he’d have to leverage them. A man could only work with what he was given. “We
ll, two conditions.”

  “You already tricked me into being your curse-breaker. It’s not a very magnanimous offer if there are more conditions.”

  Cole couldn’t help laughing. Hailey obviously had no idea just how unmagnanimous he was about to get. “The first condition is that you and your team pull together a puppy roster—a real roster, with stats and bios and pictures so we can do our draft the right way. We have to make it look like a real competition, or it’ll never work.”

  “For the last time, they’re—”

  “Not football players,” he finished for her. “I know. But you have to admit there’s a certain charm to it. Draft day. Puppy against puppy. A battle for the best and brightest. The press will eat it up.”

  She did have to admit it—and if the way she pulled her lower lip between her teeth was any indication, she wasn’t happy to do so. “What’s the other condition?”

  “Have dinner with me.”

  Like the kiss, the invitation wasn’t the most sophisticated he’d made in his lifetime. He was too rushed and too eager, too uncertain of the outcome—a feeling that didn’t go away when Hailey’s eyes widened and she took a step back. Cole was no expert, but he was pretty sure a woman physically balking at an offer of a date was a bad sign.

  “With me and my sister,” he amended hastily.

  Hailey was no longer trying to ward him off like an evil spirit, but she didn’t bear the look of a woman who was excited at the prospect of sharing a meal with the Bennett siblings, either.

  “Why?” she asked, a wary expression pinching her brows. “What’s in it for her?”

  Cole had no idea how to answer that question. In all his years as a professional football player—and as a normal, human man—he’d never had to work so hard to get someone to spend time with him. The idea that there had to be an underlying reason before Hailey would even consider saying yes was new and, frankly, a little lowering.

  So he answered the only way he knew how. Honestly.

  “Nothing’s in it for her,” he said, shrugging. “She likes you, that’s all.”

  And so, he thought, do I.

  It was a good thing Philip was still at his feet, because petting the puppy gave Cole something to do with his hands while Hailey deliberated with herself. He knew that was what she was doing because her thoughts flitted across her face like words across a page. She wasn’t pleased at the offer of a date, but she was even less pleased at the prospect of leaving this puppy at the shelter for one more night.

  “Fine. We’ll do this your way.” She nodded at the puppy. “If you take that little guy home with you right now, I’ll set up your draft and work with your press team so you can smile pretty for the cameras. I’ll make sure you’re on the front page of every newspaper in America, encouraging people to fall in love with these puppies.”

  Cole felt strangely disappointed at this capitulation. It made him an ass to admit it, but he didn’t want this to be about the puppy draft—or about the publicity. He wanted it to be about having dinner with him.

  “And I’ll have dinner with you and your sister,” she said. She added, almost defiantly, “But it will be at my house. My house, my food, my terms.”

  “Agreed.” He extended a hand and held it out to her. She didn’t take it right away, eyeing his fingers like they were snakes. “If you don’t want to shake on it, we can always seal the deal with a kiss. You know I’m good for it.”

  Her hand slipped into his with a speed that would have done his coaches proud. She shook and released his grip just as quickly, as if afraid lingering would lead to something more.

  “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked, only half joking. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to, but I’ve never had any complaints before.”

  She released a chuff of air that bordered on a snort. “Of course you haven’t. Who would critique the great Cole Bennett to his face?”

  A week ago, he might not have known how to respond to that question, but he knew the answer now. Especially since she hadn’t forbidden him from trying again. “You.”

  The oh-so-familiar color started to mount to her cheeks, but something stopped her telltale blush before it reached all the way. With a toss of her head, she said, “You may have a tendency to lose too many yards behind the line of scrimmage, but I will say this for you, Cole Bennett. You know your way around a kiss.”

  Chapter 8

  “Don’t ask.”

  Garrett and Regina looked up from the table where they sat, their heads bent close together. As soon as they noticed Cole, they jumped as far away from each other as two people could jump when seated in separate chairs, shared expressions of guilt and annoyance on their faces.

  They’d been acting like this for a few months now. Cole wished they’d just come out and admit they were seeing each other. His sister had always vehemently declared she’d rather die than date a football player, but Cole assumed that was just her way of showing she cared.

  Football players made the best boyfriends. Sure, they were moody and self-involved and had a tendency to devolve into twelve-year-olds whenever they were together, but everyone had their faults.

  “Don’t ask about what?” Garrett asked.

  Cole’s answer was the tentative poke of Philip’s head inside the front door to his condo.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Cole urged the puppy. Philip had been fine on the way over here, his head hanging out the window as he basked in the damn-near freezing-cold wind off the freeway, but the moment Cole had lifted him out of the car, he’d started showing a marked tendency to shake in fear. “You can come in. No one here is going to hurt you.”

  Regina heaved a sigh. “What did I tell you about adopting that woman’s puppies?”

  “This isn’t an attempt to get her to like me,” Cole protested. He gave up trying to urge the puppy through the door and scooped him into his arms instead. Philip seemed to enjoy being held, so Cole didn’t put him down right away. “This is strategy, plain and simple. I’m taking care of this little guy for a few weeks. In exchange, she’s setting up a puppy draft.”

  “A puppy draft?” Regina echoed.

  “It’ll make more sense once you read the proposal. Which, ah, she’s probably faxing over to you as we speak.”

  “Goddammit, Cole.”

  “I know.” He gave her a rueful grin—the one he knew from long experience would get him exactly what he wanted. Even as kids, Regina had been susceptible to it. He’d gotten way more than his fair share of Halloween candy that way, not that he’d been allowed to eat it. “But you don’t have to be there. You just have to work your public relations magic a little. You love that stuff.”

  Regina’s look of reproach spoke volumes, but Cole ignored it and started to fill a bowl with water instead.

  “You might also have to come with me to dinner at Hailey’s house afterward, but it’s better if you don’t ask about that part, either,” he said.

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  Other than his exhaustion and his fears for the future and the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about the warm rush of Hailey’s breath?

  “Oh, you know. The usual.” He glanced over his shoulder at his sister. “And don’t worry. Philip won’t be here forever. I’m his caretaker until the Puppy Cup is over, that’s all. Like Mary Poppins, but for a dog.”

  “Then under no circumstances will you introduce him to Mia. I don’t want her getting attached only to have you disappear up a chimney.” Regina drew closer and eyed the puppy in his arms. “Huh. He’s not much to look at, is he?”

  “He has deep internal trauma,” Cole said, thinking of his conversation with Hailey. “So be gentle.”

  “I’ll have to be gentle later. Apparently, my least favorite client just dumped a ton of work onto my lap.” Regina gave his shoulder—his bad one—a light squeeze. It
might have been a sisterly gesture of affection, but it also could have been a test.

  “Your most favorite client appreciates it,” he returned without so much as a wince. “It’s for the good of the Lumberjacks, Reg. The good of Seattle.”

  “Save the golden-boy routine. No one here has bought it in years.” Regina released his shoulder and turned to Garrett. “And you’ll think about what I said, Garrett? Really think about it?”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Garrett said by way of answer. Cole did his best to give them privacy, but he couldn’t help from peeking around the corner once or twice. He could just make out the dark tailoring of Regina’s suit and hear the indiscriminate murmuring of Garrett’s low-rumbling voice, but that was only to be expected. They were hardly going to start making out in the hallway while he was standing within earshot.

  “You and Reggie seem to have made yourselves at home,” he said as soon as Garrett returned to the kitchen. He placed both the bowl and the puppy on the floor, but Philip had no interest in liquids. He adhered himself to Cole’s leg instead. “It’s nice you could both make use of the emergency keys I gave you. For this emergency.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Garrett replied, nothing but goodwill in his voice.

  “You’re not going to tell me what you two were doing here?”

  “Nope.” Garrett opened the fridge and pulled out an energy drink. He pointed both it and his finger at Cole. “Not unless you plan on telling me what you’re doing with that Hailey woman.”

  Fair enough. In a different frame of mind, Cole might have sacrificed his emotional well-being to hear Garrett admit the truth, but not right now. Not when he wasn’t sure what he was doing—or why. Part of it, he knew, was a perverse determination to get the better of a woman who showed no real signs of succumbing to his charm, but that didn’t explain everything. He’d faced challenging women before without resorting to puppy adoption.