Chasing Jillian: A Love and Football Novel
Page 11
Jillian could not have been more shocked if Brad Pitt had just strolled through the front door of the facility, confessed to leaving Angelina Jolie, and asked her out. She was fairly sure she was the last woman Kade normally would have wanted to spend time with.
“I . . . oh, Kade, it’s really nice of you to think of me, but I’m . . . I’m not allowed to date the players.”
“You spend all that time with Taylor, and the two of you aren’t dating?” His lips twitched while his face registered disbelief. “Okay. We’ll call it pool, and we’ll go in separate cars. I won’t tell anyone if I happen to buy you dinner to go with that beer. Come out with me,” he said in what he probably thought was his most persuasive tone.
She was obviously dreaming. Even more, what on earth could Kade want to discuss with her? He wasn’t romantically interested in her. This couldn’t be a work thing. He obviously had something up his sleeve. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had to get out of this as gracefully as possible.
“I’m really flattered, but I’m going to have to say no. Thank you so much, though.”
“Don’t give me the ‘I’m flattered’ stuff. Let’s go. I promise you’ll have fun,” Kade said.
“I’m sure I would, but it’s really not a good idea. Thanks again.”
She slipped out from under his arm and hurried away.
JILLIAN ARRIVED AT the practice facility early the next morning. The cafeteria staff had worked wonders with the food for Tom’s party. She looked over heart-shaped tea sandwiches, a fruit tray so gorgeous it should be criminal to eat it, and shark-shaped sugar cookies decorated with pink frosting. She wasn’t sure little girls liked raw vegetables, but there was a selection of dips and dressings to go with them. She brought out a box of the goody bags she’d loaded the previous afternoon and set about decorating tables with a profusion of pink favors, a Sharks window cling, and a place card at each setting.
Seth walked through the space, and her heart skipped a beat. She wished she had a little more control over her emotions. She attempted an unconcerned facial expression.
“Hey, event planner.”
“So, you’ve decided to join us, huh? Don’t eat that,” she said. Her palms were getting sweaty. It might be easier to resist Seth if he wasn’t so cute.
He hovered over the food table. “Just one.”
“No. Unless you’re a five-year-old girl, it’s off limits.”
He rolled his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m the entertainment. Someone should feed me.”
“What are you talking about?” Jillian frowned at the contents of one of the goody bags that had been haphazardly stuck into the box. Either she dropped some of the stuff she’d already loaded in it on her way up here, or there was a problem. It was full of gift cards. “What the hell is this?” she muttered to herself.
“Oh. Oh. Give me that.” Seth crossed the room, holding out one hand. “I’ll take care of that.”
“What’s with the gift cards?”
He shook his head and wagged one finger. “If I tell you all my secrets—”
“Come on, Seth. Tom’s really nervous about this party. What are you up to?”
Seth shoved a raw carrot in his mouth and talked around it. “Oh, Tom knows.”
“Why won’t you tell me, then? I’d like to know.”
Seth swallowed the mouthful and took the bag from Jillian’s fingers. “The little girl who won the party—her dad’s been out of work for a while. Tom offered to catch them up on their bills, but the guy wouldn’t accept the cash. So a few of us got together and bought a couple of gift cards. We’ll put it in her stuff and send it home. What’s he going to do?”
A “couple of gift cards”? Jillian’s mouth dropped open. “How many are in there?”
“More than ten, less than fifty. The coaches chipped in too.” Seth gave her a lazy grin. “So are you going to feed me? I understand we’re playing soccer later. A man’s gotta eat.”
“The chef made some food for the adults that should be ready in a few minutes.” She flicked through the gift cards. The little girl was going to need a ride home in an armored vehicle if the amounts she was seeing were accurate. It was a very sweet gesture, but she needed to get this equivalent of a bag of cash into a safe place before the party started.
“Want me to get you something to eat too?” Seth called out as he walked into the kitchen.
“That would be great,” she said. “Thanks.”
JILLIAN TRIED TO pretend like having him around wasn’t a big deal and that she was paying attention to the party and the group of girls more than she was tracking Seth as he moved around the room, teasing the little girls and giving his teammates crap. Instead of showing up and standing on the sidelines, Seth was doing his best to interact with the party guests. She was doing her best not to dissolve into a puddle of goo as Seth coaxed and charmed.
He dropped to one knee in front of a shy little girl who was still clinging to her dad’s pant leg.
“You’ll teach me how to play soccer, won’t you? I don’t know how.”
The girl let out a giggle. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? What can I do to change your mind?” He gave her a heart-melting grin. “I know. I’ll bet you want another one of those pink shark cookies, don’t you?”
The girl nodded.
“Well, then. I’ll work on that. In the meantime, would you like to play?”
The girls who’d formed a knot around Tom Reed drifted slowly in Seth’s direction as their friend let go of her dad’s pant leg and reached out for Seth’s hand.
Jillian glanced over after refreshing some of the food platters to see that another girl had whipped the pint-sized plastic-and-rhinestone tiara she’d received in her goody bag off her head and held it out to Seth.
“You want me to wear that?” he said, widening his eyes in mock horror.
“Yes!” six little girls shouted.
“Well, okay. Just this once,” he told them. He put the tiara on to a cacophony of giggling. “Do I look silly?”
“Yes!”
“I thought I looked nice. You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
“Nooooo.”
Another little girl had Brandon McKenna by the hand and tugged him over to the group. The grin on Brandon’s face told Jillian he loved every second of the attention. While some of the other Sharks were milling around in the kitchen or standing a distance away from the girls, any much-larger male showing interest at all was dragged into the midst of the fashion makeover.
One of the little girls dug around in her pocket for the lip balm Jillian told them was “makeup.”
“You need makeup,” the little girl informed Seth.
“I see,” he said.
The little girls applied as much of the barely pink-tinted stuff as they could to him.
“He looks pretty now,” one of them said.
“Let’s put some on Brandon,” another girl insisted.
“You don’t have to do that,” Brandon said. “I will wear one of your tiaras, though.”
Seth turned to face Brandon. “Aww, come on. It’s not so bad,” he said. “The stuff tastes like strawberries.”
“Strawberries, hm? Maybe I’ll give it a try.” Brandon gave the little girl who wielded the “makeup” a raised eyebrow. “If I do this, will you teach me to play soccer too?”
“Yes!” the girls screamed.
“Well, then. I’m all yours,” he said.
Jillian grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket to snap a picture. She’d have to ask Brandon later if he minded her sending the picture to his wife. She knew Brandon was crazy about his sons, but if there was ever a guy who needed a little girl of his own, it was him.
The Sharks’ photographer also circled the scene, snapping away. A few minutes later, the makeup application was complete, and the face painter arrived to add the Sharks’ logo to Brandon’s and Seth’s faces before the little girls clustered around them for even more pictures.
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“Hey! What about me?” Tom called out. “I don’t have any little girls at home. I want in on the action. Where’s my makeup? I need one of those crown things too.” He glanced over at Jillian. “Will you take a few pictures of us with my phone?”
Tom sat down on the carpeting of the Sharks’ cafeteria as three of the girls smeared what was left of the lip balm on him and attempted to secure the tiara on his head. His hair was so short, the tiara kept falling off, which brought more giggles and redoubled efforts to get the tiara to stay on. Jillian managed to get several pictures and took a couple on her phone too. She’d met Tom’s wife; she could only imagine what Megan Reed would have to say about them when she got a look.
A few minutes later, the guys were propelled out to the practice field by the group of girls. The team photographer followed them out the door. If Jillian finished the cleanup, she could go outside for a few minutes to watch too. She turned to grab her sweater off of the back of a chair as she heard Kade’s voice.
“It’s cold out there. Let’s pull up a chair and relax.” She felt his fingertips brush the small of her back as he dropped into the chair next to her. She was startled and pulled away from his touch. He didn’t seem to notice. “I like kids, but the screaming’s giving me a headache. How about you?” He popped a slice of kiwi fruit into his mouth as he watched her.
“I’m going to clean up a little more and go out to see what they’re doing,” she said.
She picked up the trash bag she was using and moved a foot or so away from him. She knew there were enough parents and Sharks personnel out there that they really didn’t need her help, but she was a little freaked out that Kade seemed to be stepping up his “get to know Jillian” campaign for whatever reason.
He pulled out the chair next to him. “Keep me company, won’t you?”
Most other women probably would have jumped for joy to get any attention from him. He wasn’t unattractive. He was tall, dark-haired, hazel-eyed and, like every other Shark, in great shape. She’d never been a fan of guys who didn’t take no for an answer, though, and she’d already politely told him she wasn’t interested.
“I really need to get this stuff cleaned up a little, and then I’ll go outside to keep an eye on what’s happening,” she said.
He gave a low chuckle. “Let the cafeteria staff do the cleanup. Isn’t that what they’re there for?”
She wanted to snap at him. She took a deep breath and concentrated on using a casual tone. “They’ve already done a lot of extra work for us today. I don’t want them to be left with a huge mess.”
“Aww, c’mon. You’re not avoiding me, are you?” He smirked at her.
“Of course not,” she said.
Yes, she was, and she needed to get herself outside with other people. He was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Maybe she was paranoid, but she didn’t like his continued pursuit.
He got up from the chair and strolled over to where she was clearing off dirty paper plates and cups. He was much too close, and she surreptitiously glanced around for the exits. If things got weird, the best option she had was to drop the bag and run outside to the field where everyone else was.
“Why don’t you let Reed deal with the rest of this, and we’ll go have a drink? You have to be parched,” he said.
He reached out to brush the hair out of her face. She’d passed annoyance a few minutes ago and went straight into panic. Maybe some women were okay with a guy they really didn’t know touching them, but she didn’t like it.
“Please don’t do that,” she said.
She backed away from him, holding the garbage bag up to chest level in an effort to put space between them.
“Do what?” he said.
He took another step toward her. Her mouth went dry with fear, and she could feel herself shaking. Maybe she was overreacting, but she needed to get out of here. She set the plastic bag down next to another table and spun away from him.
“I’m going outside,” she said. “I’ll finish this later.”
As he reached out to grab her arm, she heard the glass door to the practice field open.
SETH HAD GLANCED up from tying a little girl’s shoes and, through the panoramic windows that faced out on the practice field, saw Kade Harrison chasing Jillian around the cafeteria. Jillian looked terrified. She kept backing away from him, and he wasn’t getting the hint.
He reached out to grab the sleeve of Derrick Collins’s sweater.
“I’ll be back,” Seth said. “Gotta take care of something.”
It was more like rescuing Jillian from one of his overly competitive teammates, but he couldn’t control the surge of protectiveness and anger when he’d seen the look on her face. She was scared, and that asshole Harrison wasn’t leaving her alone.
“Fine,” Derrick said. “Leave me here with a bunch of five-year-old girls. I can take it.” Two of the little girls were clinging to his pants leg and waving one of the plastic-and-rhinestone tiaras at him.
“Man up and wear a tiara!” Seth shouted to him as he crossed the practice field to the building at a run. If he wasn’t so freaked out right now, he’d laugh at the mental picture of the six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound Derrick brought down by a few little girls.
“You just want another pink cookie!” Derrick shouted in response.
Seth hit the door into the facility at full speed. The look of relief on Jillian’s face when she saw him made anger spike through him anew. He wanted to rip Harrison’s head off.
“Get away from her,” he growled.
Seconds later, he’d crossed the room and shoved Harrison away from Jillian. Seth knew Reed would kick his ass if he spoiled the party for his guests, but he saw red. He wasn’t going to dwell on the consequences if he beat the shit out of Harrison, who’d had it coming for a long time. Getting grabby with Jillian was the least of Kade’s problems right now.
He felt Jillian’s hand on his arm. “Seth, I’m okay. Everything is fine. Stop it, you guys!”
“I’ll take care of this. Get behind me,” Seth told her, but Derrick’s voice rang out behind them.
“What the fuck are you doing? Knock this shit off. We have guests,” he informed them. He got between Seth and Kade, grabbed both shirt fronts in his big fists and pushed them away from each other. “You can kill each other during practice. Not now.”
The three men stared at each other. Seth felt Jillian’s hand still holding onto his arm.
“No means no, asshole,” Seth said to Kade, who laughed out loud in response.
“Tomorrow,” Derrick snapped.
Chapter Twelve
JILLIAN HURRIED THROUGH the employees’ parking lot at the Sharks’ headquarters during a light rain a few days later. The typical Tuesday morning rush featured a new wrinkle: the dress pants she’d put on earlier were now so loose they fell off her. She was going to have to make some time later to go to the mall and buy a pair of pants that actually fit. She’d managed to cinch up the pants by poking an additional hole in one of her belts and pulling her now-baggy sweater down to hide this fact. Hopefully, the pants would stay up throughout the day.
She was still ignoring the scale, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was shrinking out of her wardrobe. She was going to have to weigh herself. She’d been avoiding it so far, just because she wasn’t sure she wanted to see a number. If she saw a number, that meant she’d start obsessing over it. She didn’t want to find herself running to a scale every day and worrying if it didn’t reflect her increased activity.
Seth strolled into the building minutes later and winked at her.
“Hey, Jill, it’s wet out there,” he said. “Is John in yet?”
She ignored the urge to tell him he had a keen eye for the obvious. “He’s out of town for the next couple of days. Would you like me to tell him you’re looking for him when he calls in?”
“I’d love that.” He plunked down in the chair next to her desk. “What’s up, Buttercup?”
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She laughed at the silly nickname. The phones were quiet, Vivian was at a dentist’s appointment, and Jillian felt butterflies in her stomach, but she had to tell someone else besides Kari. “I need some new pants. The ones I have don’t fit anymore.”
“Is that so?” he said, but his eyes twinkled. “I wondered when you’d start to notice. Have you weighed yourself yet?”
She’d talked to him a couple of weeks ago about her hesitation to go anywhere near a scale. The typically teasing Seth greeted this news with silence and hadn’t said a word about it since. She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or touched that he didn’t push her in an area that was still pretty sensitive.
“No,” she said. “I haven’t. I’m afraid I’ll be running in there every morning and be upset if there’s no change—”
“Then concentrate on feeling better. A number doesn’t define you.”
She bit her tongue before telling him that for women, numbers defined them and always would. Their ages. Their heights and weights. Their bra sizes. So many numbers. She shook her head.
“What happens if you don’t answer the phone for a few minutes?” he said.
“John gets mad at me.”
“He’s not here today. It’ll go to voice mail.” He got up from his chair and said, “I was just in the weight room. There’s nobody in there. If you want to get on the scale, now’s a good time. He patted her on the back. “If not, don’t worry about it.” He gave her a nod and loped away.
Two minutes later, she was shaking from head to toe as she approached the scale in the weight room. It was a good thing the place was (temporarily) deserted. She knew Seth was right about the fact that a number didn’t define who she was inside, but she was afraid of this one.
She took one huge step onto the metal base, squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. “Oh, God. I can’t look,” she muttered.
Maybe she should turn around, open her eyes, and run back to her desk before she saw the readout. Or maybe she should gather her courage and be proud of the small changes she’d already made, no matter what the number on the readout said.