Love at the 20-Yard Line

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Love at the 20-Yard Line Page 2

by Shanna Hatfield

The cheering crowd provided a shot of pure energy surging through Brody, driving him on as his team trounced their opponents.

  Determined to keep thoughts of the blonde-haired girl with the soulful eyes from knocking him off his game, he continually found his gaze wandering her direction through the second quarter.

  Glad for halftime and the opportunity to regroup, Brody blocked out the people around him and attempted to center his thoughts on winning the game.

  “Dude, s’up with you?” Marcus asked as he bumped shoulders with Brody.

  “Nothing, man. I’m cool.” Brody took a drink from a bottle the water boy handed him. He tipped back his head and closed his eyes, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. A pair of blue eyes immediately filled his vision so he opened his eyes and sat up straighter.

  “You don’t look cool, bro. Something going on you need to tell ol’ Marcus about?” Marcus knew all of Brody’s moods and he could tell his buddy tossed some idea around in his head. They were far ahead of the visiting team and unless something disastrous occurred between now and the end of the fourth quarter, he was confident they’d win the game.

  By rights, Brody should be on top of the world and shouting it from the rooftops. Instead, he frowned with worry lines etched across his forehead.

  “I’m fine, man, but thanks for asking. You better pay attention to Coach and look snappy about it because he’s giving us the evil eye.” Brody grinned at the coach and nodded his head, pretending to listen to the direction they received for the last half of the game.

  Further conversation ended as they headed back out to the field. While he waited to go out to play, Brody turned his gaze into the stands, trying to steal a glimpse of the mystery girl. She sat in the sponsor seats section, so if he wanted, he could ask the sales manager about her.

  That smacked too much of an interest Brody was determined he wouldn’t admit to, though.

  A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed she sat sandwiched between two hulking guys who looked like twins. One of them tried to shove a mini doughnut dripping with chocolate topping in her face while the other waved a tray of nachos in front of her.

  She shook her head and pushed at both of their hands. The one with the doughnut touched it to her mouth, forcing her to take a bite. Brody stood mesmerized as her tongue came out to lick away a drop of chocolate lingering on the corner of her pink lips.

  Her glare settled on the guy with the nachos then she laughed at the one with the doughnut. Her face transformed as dimples filled her cheeks and the serious lines softened. She took the doughnut and ate it, licking the sticky frosting from her fingers. Brody had the most insane desire to do the same thing.

  “Dude, you gonna play or not?” Marcus slapped Brody’s shoulder as the coach motioned him onto the field. Quickly grabbing his helmet, he gave himself a mental lecture about blocking out thoughts of the girl and focusing on the game.

  Far ahead of the other team as the fourth quarter wound down, Brody stood waiting for the next play, doing his best to ignore the blonde sitting three rows up, two seats over, between the twin terrors. He wanted to beat the stuffing out of the guy who kept bumping her shoulder and trying to get her to share his drink.

  When the man placed a hand on her arm and leaned closer to her ear, Brody clenched his fists to keep from climbing up the bleachers and knocking him unconscious.

  Now the other one was saying something to her, but she seemed to like him, smiling at him with a look on her face that bordered on adoration. That particular twin turned to the redhead next to him and kissed her cheek.

  Brody forcibly returned his attention to the game before he got involved in something that was none of his business. None at all.

  He caught a pass seconds before the buzzer signaled the end of the game and ran to the end zone. The crowd went wild when he made the final touchdown.

  The team shared a round of high-fives and congratulations. Brody returned to the bench and unearthed a pen, signing his name on the football. He removed his helmet and glanced up to see the girl who captivated his interest trying to put on her coat while one of the twins held the back of it against her seat. She had her arms in the sleeves, trapped by the big dolt.

  Without giving it another thought, Brody jumped over the dasher boards surrounding the field. He ran up the steps and looked down at the girl and her friends.

  “Hey, I thought you might like the ball from the last touchdown.” He held it out to the blonde staring at him as if he was speaking in tongues.

  Up close, her skin resembled smooth porcelain and her eyes glowed behind the frames of her glasses. Springy curls escaped the messy bun on the back of her head and Brody battled a nearly irresistible urge to reach out and see if the golden strands felt like silk.

  She rose to her feet and he experienced a moment of pleasant surprise to see she was considerably taller than the tiny redhead who stood next to one of the look-alike brothers. A whiff of a soft, tantalizing fragrance that raised his temperature several notches assaulted him as he leaned forward.

  Brody continued to hold the ball out toward her. She worked her hand out of her coat sleeve and took it in a tentative grasp, offering him a polite smile. Relief washed through him to see no wedding ring adorned her left hand and her nails were, in fact, short and unpainted.

  “Thank you, Mr. Jackson,” she said.

  Brody felt inordinately pleased she at least knew his last name. “Call me Brody,” he said, accepting the hand held out to him by the more obnoxious of the two brothers. The two men definitely bore a strong resemblance to each other, but he could see they weren’t the same age as he originally thought.

  “Congrats, man, that was a killer game. I’m Tom and this is my brother Hale.”

  ‘Thanks, man.” Brody shook hands with the second brother and smiled at the redhead.

  “There’s a party starting in a while. You’d be welcome to come as my guests,” Brody offered, hoping for the chance to spend time with the blonde away from the field. If he had his way, he’d take her home instead of the Neanderthal duo.

  “Please, Haven?” Tom asked, nudging her in the side with his elbow. “I promise we won’t stay too late.”

  Although he hoped she would agree, the longing to punch her boyfriend returned with a vengeance. The guy treated her as if she was an annoying kid sister, not a beautiful woman who, for all appearances, seemed refined and very feminine.

  He rolled her name around in his head. It suited her well, although he’d never heard of anyone named Haven.

  Prepared to plead with her to go to the party, he looked into her face and could see fatigue around her eyes. He wouldn’t pressure her to go, but he wouldn’t let her leave without learning her full name. If he was so inclined, he wanted to know how to get in touch with her.

  “What’s your name?” Brody mustered up his most charming smile. He’d been told when he used it, women practically fell at his feet, ready to do his bidding.

  “Haven Haggarty.” Haven wondered why this particular player decided to bring her an autographed football and invite them to a party. Maybe it was something each player did for a corporate sponsor.

  Despite the dull roaring of her headache, she was vividly aware of the very cute Brody Jackson out on the field. She’d watched him play with interest and noticed him gazing into the stands their direction but had no idea he was remotely aware of her or her brothers. Abby was a dazzling little beauty. Maybe she’d caught his eye.

  In his uniform, Brody appeared incredibly tall and sinfully handsome. His jet-black hair was tousled and sweaty, but thick. His chiseled jaw ended with a firm, ridiculously square chin. Sensuously full lips and dark brown eyes added to his appeal, as did his deep voice, laced with a hint of gravel.

  The symmetry of his face was perfect for modeling and she wondered if he’d ever considered posing for an ad campaign. She was always in need of good models for their clients.

  When he flashed that megawatt smile her direction, Hav
en found it difficult to swallow, let alone speak. After barely managing to push her name out her lips, she frantically tried to engage her brain. He’d scrambled it with both his presence and that husky voice.

  His large hand engulfed hers and an immediate stream of sparks licked up her arm, exploding inside her head.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Haven Haggarty.” Brody attempted to gauge her reaction to him. Other than her eyes growing a little wider, she looked calm, cool, and collected. And ready to go home. “Maybe you’ll come to the party another time.”

  She shifted the football he’d handed her beneath her arm and stared at him, unaware of the look passing between her two brothers.

  “Maybe next time,” Haven finally said, pulling her hand from Brody’s. She’d never seen such long, capable fingers. Hurriedly handing Tom the football, she dug in her bag and pulled out a small case. She removed a business card and handed it to Brody.

  “If you ever want to consider doing some modeling, I’m always looking for a handsome face like yours.” Haven blushed as the words left her lips. She sounded like one of the ditzy flirts who enjoyed the attentions of men like Brody Jackson.

  “So, you think I’m handsome,” Brody teased, waggling expressive eyebrows her direction, noting Haven’s flushed cheeks.

  Rather than respond, she finished putting on her coat. She shoved the football into her big bag and pushed against Tom’s side, trying to get him to step into the aisle and go up the steps so they could leave.

  “Thank you for the ball, Mr. Jackson, and congratulations on your victory.” Haven gave him a smile that had lost most of its warmth before turning to follow Tom out of the stands.

  Brody glanced at the crisp white card in his hand and smiled. He might not see Miss Haven Haggarty later tonight, but he’d definitely see her again.

  Chapter Three

  Monday morning, Haven sent Mr. Young a brief email about how well represented the company was at the game Friday night. She was surprised to glance up from her desk that afternoon and see her boss smiling at her from the doorway of her office.

  “Have fun at the game?” Mr. Young asked, stepping into the room and sitting down in a chair across from Haven.

  “Well, um… I… it, um… My brothers had a great time, sir. Thank you for the tickets.” Haven took an envelope from her desk drawer and slid it across the tidy surface to her boss. “These are the tickets for the rest of the season. I’m sure you want to give others the chance to attend.”

  “Actually, Haven, I’d prefer you go to all the games. You can take whomever you want with you, but just work them into your schedule, please.” Mr. Young gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

  “Are you certain, sir? Seth and Adam both love football.” Haven knew her two coworkers would enjoy the games much more than she would. “They might…”

  Mr. Young cut her off, holding up a hand to indicate her silence. “Nope. I want you to go. You really need to stop putting in so many hours here, Haven. I know you worked more than sixty last week. Judging by the volume of emails from you first thing this morning, I’d assume you also took work home with you this weekend. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is. I wanted to get the Clemson account settled and I need to…”

  “Not work so hard.” Mr. Young smiled at her again. “I appreciate your loyalty and dedication to your job, but you’re going to burn out and I don’t want to lose such a valuable employee. That’s why I’m hiring an assistant for you and Seth to share. I’ll let you know when I have some candidates to interview. I want both of you to be in on my decision.”

  “Mr. Young, I…” Haven struggled to sort out her thoughts and feelings at this announcement. She finally found her voice. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  “It’s not thoughtful. It’s entirely selfish. You and Seth carry the bulk of the work around here and I want to keep you both happy. We’re a good team, but you both need to get out more and stop spending every moment working. Get a life, date someone for goodness sakes.” Mr. Young stood and moved to the door, amused by Haven’s shocked expression. “While I’m at it, get out of here and enjoy an extra hour or two of free time.”

  “But sir, I have to…”

  “Put on your coat and go. I insist.” Mr. Young crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Haven to do his bidding.

  Reluctantly, she turned off her computer, straightened her already neat desk and started to grab a file to take home with her. Mr. Young strode across the room and grabbed it from her hand.

  “No homework tonight. Go, Haven. Go out to dinner. Go to the spa. Go shopping,” Mr. Young suggested, holding her coat as she slipped her arms into the sleeves then picked up her purse and handed it to her. “Go do something completely fun and frivolous. Then be back here, raring to go tomorrow. I have a new client coming in I want you and Seth to meet.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Haven walked down the hall and shrugged at the receptionist as Mr. Young entered Seth’s office. She assumed he’d be shoved out the door in short order.

  Haven decided to take the unexpected time as a welcome gift, but couldn’t decide what to do. She drove to the mall and spent an hour browsing through stores.

  When she shopped, it was because she needed a specific item. Normally, she would race into a store, get what she needed, and hurry back out. Nevertheless, today she could browse to her heart’s content. She found two blouses and a pair of jeans she liked and purchased them along with a new pair of shoes.

  Delighted by her unexpected shopping trip, Haven wandered to the bookstore and browsed, selecting a title from the romantic suspense section. She bought it and a big hot chocolate on her way out the door.

  After hurrying home, she changed into jeans and a sweatshirt then curled up on the couch with the book and drink, immersing herself in a world much different from her own.

  Lost in the story, she failed to notice the afternoon light grew dim. At an exciting point in the tale, she had no awareness of anything beyond the book in her hand.

  A knock on her door made her yelp as she dropped the book on the floor and glanced around, wide-eyed.

  The pounding resumed and she rushed to the door. Hale stood on her step, holding bags of Chinese food.

  “I come bearing gifts,” he said, grinning as he stepped inside. “I wasn’t sure you’d be home yet since it isn’t obscenely late and you’re usually still hunched over your desk at work, but I took a chance.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Haven led the way to her kitchen and took two plates out of the cupboard, setting them on her small table. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

  “Can’t I drop by for dinner with my favorite sister without having a reason?” Hale removed his coat and sat down at the table. He helped Haven take the food out of the bags and passed her the fried rice with an innocent shrug.

  “You’re joking, right? I’m your only sister so don’t try buttering me up with that favorite business. The only time you guys come over is when you want me to do something.”

  “True.” Hale smiled as he helped himself to orange chicken and broccoli beef. “But I really did come over without any ulterior motives tonight. It’s been a while since just the two of us have hung out and I wanted to see how things are going for you.”

  Haven set down her fork and stared at her brother. Tom and Wes could be obnoxious and thickheaded most of the time. Hale was the one who offered his support when she needed it and often gave her good advice. She picked up her fork and continued eating but still wondered what brought Hale to her door. He rarely dropped by just to visit, but maybe this was one of those far and few between instances.

  “So, did you enjoy the game Friday?” Hale asked, knowing Haven wouldn’t have gone unless she had to. “It was fun to meet that player. What was his name?”

  “Brody. Brody Jackson,” Haven supplied, far too quickly. She’d never admit it to anyone, least of all one of her brothers, but the football player
had been in her thoughts since the game Friday evening. She kept picturing that head of dark hair, square chin, and rich brown eyes. If she closed her eyes, she could hear his gravelly voice and it made gooseflesh ripple up her arms. “At least I think that was his name.”

  Hale looked at her with a narrow, knowing glare. “Yep. That was his name. What did you do with the ball he gave you?”

  “Tommy tried to keep it, and I would have let him, but he irritated me before I got him home, so it’s in my closet.” Even if her brother hadn’t annoyed her, she still would have kept the ball. It had Brody’s name and the date scrawled across it. For some reason, Haven couldn’t part with it.

  Hale laughed and shook his head. “You know, someday the two of you are going to have to learn to play nice together.”

  “Someday, maybe.” Haven gave Hale an impish grin. “But that day has not yet arrived.”

  “Are you going to the game this weekend?”

  “Yes.” Haven speared a piece of broccoli with force. Although she did enjoy the game and was secretly thrilled at meeting Brody, she didn’t want to go back.

  If she did, it would be extremely hard for her to keep pretending she wasn’t interested in the hunky football player. She knew even if she managed, by some miracle, to catch his eye, she’d just be a conquest for him then he’d move on to the next girl. She didn’t intend to become involved with him. Ever.

  Men like Brody Jackson were bad news. Especially to softhearted, sensitive girls like Haven.

  “Don’t sound so excited about it,” Hale teased, sitting back in his chair and studying his sister. He and Tom both noticed her interest in the ballplayer and planned to find out if she was going to do anything about it.

  He could count on one hand the number of dates his sister had been on in her lifetime and the girl was almost twenty-six. Smart, pretty, and funny, he didn’t know what was wrong with the men she encountered. She should have them beating down her door.

  Instead, because she tended to be reserved around strangers, most of them didn’t give her a third glance. Those big blue eyes and curly blonde hair always got her a second look, but that was as far as it tended to go.

 

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