The Perfect Catch_A contemporary sports romance book

by Shania Tyler

  “Great. Well then, there is only one name worth giving you, seeing as I am sure you are looking for someone specific.” With a pause for unnecessary dramatic effect, he said, “The name you’re looking for is Major Lawson.”

  My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s the only one available?”

  “Yup. He’s the only one I know of who’s still available.”

  Great. Thanks for nothing, Scotty. I wanted to yell at him, but I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself. “Thanks, Scotty. I really appreciate it.”

  I stared at the name and number written down in front of me for over half an hour before I finally entered it into my phone. My finger hovered over the green call button for what seemed like a lifetime. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do. But I had been disbelieving everything I was about to do the entire morning.

  With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I pressed the button and pushed my phone to my ear. The ringing tone sounded, and I held my breath as I waited for the man on the other end to answer, almost hoping he wouldn’t. It would spare me the embarrassment of having to ask someone like that to consider what I was about to offer.

  “This is Major Lawson. I can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message and I will be sure to get back to you at my earliest convenience or just whenever the hell I feel like it.” The low baritone voice was like butter, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, the man would sound like sin when he talked. He didn’t have to do anything – just read out the phonebook – and I’d volunteer to sit there and listen to it. It was like a warm cup of hot chocolate, wrapping around you on a cold day.

  But not a surprise was the arrogant voicemail introduction from a man who had been fired from his last job. I didn’t know the whole story, but I remembered he’d been sacked based on him hitting one of his quarterbacks during the halftime of the Super Bowl. And here I was, trying to get hold of him to hire the idiot. Was he truly the idiot or was I for even thinking that something like this hare-brained idea could save my season, my team, my year?

  With no other choice, I found myself clearing my throat and speaking into the phone. “Erm…hello, Mr. Lawson. This is Ruby Bowman, General Manager for the Houston Buckskins and I was hoping to be able to talk to you about a position that has just come available…”

  * * *

  2

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  CHAPTER TWO

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  Major

  I’d forgotten how bright the light was first thing in the morning. It shone through the window where I had forgotten to shut the curtains the night before as I’d stumbled into bed. And clearly, I hadn’t been alone if the lady friend who was now draped over me in all her nakedness was any indication.

  For a moment, I couldn’t remember what had awoken me from my drunken slumber but then the sound of my phone buzzing hit my ears. I cursed the thing for waking me from a dream I’d been having about a pair of girls dousing themselves in my favorite beer. Oh, the fun you could have in dreams when you were drunk as a skunk.

  I groaned as I rolled my female companion off me and reached for my phone. She made a sound like she was not at all pleased at having been woken and I had to agree with her.

  When I reached my phone after several attempts of shuffling ever closer to the edge of the bed, I looked at the screen to see that I had one missed call and one voicemail. Seeing the number, I realized that it was a call from Houston. I scratched my head. Who the hell could be calling me from Houston?

  I had no family to speak of, and all my friends seemed to have fizzled away after the rumors began. There was only one thing it could be, though I wasn’t getting my hopes up that it was going to be good news. It must be the hundredth job rejection.

  With a sigh, I pressed the button to call my voicemail and waited for the thing to connect. When it finally did, I listened carefully as the female voice sang sweet words of hope into my ear. Unable to believe it, I found myself listening to it over and over again. It wasn’t just the voice, although I had to admit the husky feminine voice was doing dangerous things to my boxer briefs right now. But it was the words that I couldn’t believe. The pounding hangover headache that had been fogging my brain instantly began to lift and I sat bolt upright in bed.

  Giving the woman beside me a quick shove, I announced roughly, “You’ve got to go.”

  “Wha….” She did not get the chance to question me as I shoved her again in an attempt. Had she moved this slow at the club last night?

  “I said you’ve got to go,” I said again, trying to calm my temper. It wasn’t her fault she was laying there, preventing me from something I’d been waiting months for.

  She finally rolled over onto her side to look at me. She had the audacity to try and rub her bare foot on the skin of my arm. I resisted the urge to flinch away from her. She pouted. “You can’t just kick me out.”

  “I can, and I am,” I told her definitively as I reached down to the floor beside the bed where her dress had fallen. Probably when she’d slinked out of it the night before. If I was remembering correctly, I was pretty sure I hadn’t even had to ask her to take off her clothes. Although, maybe I hadn’t even needed her to take them off. It’s not like I’d been trying to commit her body to my memory or anything. She was just a necessary evil, a physical release after a bad day.

  “Here.” I threw the skimpy red number at the woman who was still wearing last night’s makeup, and I couldn’t believe I had ever gone there. Looking at her now that my beer goggles had been removed, I realized I had made a terrible mistake. She wasn’t even my type. She looked young and, judging by the practiced way she dressed with her eyes staring at me boldly, I would guess she slept around a fair bit. I made myself a reminder to get tested. Maybe it’s time to lay off the beer a little.

  “Are you kidding me?” she demanded, even as she pulled on her dress, trying to look sultry but only managing to frustrate me further by her slow progress.

  “No, I’m not kidding you,” I assured her. “I need you to leave now. I have somewhere that I need to be.”

  “You know, I was warned about you,” the woman snapped as she scrambled from the bed and picked up her heels. I was relieved when she didn’t waste her time by putting them on. Instead, she held them in one hand as she searched for the handbag she’d left lying around somewhere. “They told me you were a playboy.”

  “Well, what can I say?” I shrugged at her. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “If I leave now, I won’t be back, you know?” she told me.

  I barely managed to stop myself from scoffing with laughter. I had never heard such a ridiculous threat in my life.

  “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” That was a line that always seemed to work on the ones I wanted to get rid of, and I was relieved to see that it worked on this one, too.

  “Jerk!” she threw at me as she turned and skulked from my hotel room.

  “Like I said, I’ve heard worse,” I told her, even though I knew she could no longer hear me. I wasn’t really bothered about what she thought of me. I didn’t care what anybody thought about me. What I did care about was the fact that a woman named Ruby Bowman may have just offered me the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Throwing my large tattooed frame from the bed, I wandered into the bathroom. I freshened up as quickly as possible in the sink before I stumbled into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I thought briefly about wearing something else but figured that this Ruby would know that I’m the kind of guy who has given up caring what other people think of him. Because if I’ve learned anything in the past few months, it’s that no matter what I do to try and change people’s minds, they always come to their own conclusions in the end, whether they’re in my favor or not. Shrugging, I left what I had on.

  Either she likes you or she doesn’t like you. I stared in the bathroom mirror. There were da
rk circles under my eyes and my chin was covered in stubble but when I glanced at the watch that I almost never took off, I saw that I didn’t have the time to shave. Her words rang in my ears like church bells. “I’d like to invite you down to my office at midday today to discuss the chance of employment.”

  The desperation in her voice had been evident on the recording, and it made me hopeful that I may have found my big break, the one I had been waiting for. I’d been waiting for it since I had been forced to resign from my position as coach at the last place when the rumors had begun to fly.

  I tried to push those thoughts away quickly. I couldn’t afford to get lost in past mistakes again. I didn’t have time for that. I needed to get to Houston and to the job that could be mine if I didn’t mess up this interview.

  I was still shocked at the fact it had been a woman’s voice on the phone. Perhaps I could use my charm to work my way into the job. Immediately after that thought crossed my mind, I knew that it likely wouldn’t work with her. If she’d made her way through the NFL into a GM spot, she wasn’t going to be deterred by a handsome smile. Across the NFL, literally thousands of good-looking, stacked athletes were willing to do whatever it took to get drafted, get a higher salary, or get a more prestigious position.

  * * *

  I hadn’t been in her office for more than five minutes, and I could tell that Ruby Bowman already hated me. Maybe it was my jeans and t-shirt, or maybe it was my unshaved chin. She also kept glancing down at my arms, so I wondered if maybe my tattoos offended her. Should I have worn a long-sleeved shirt? It certainly wasn’t my style, but I was starting to regret the whole take-me-or-leave-me vibe I’d been giving since I walked in. I needed this job. I should’ve pandered a little more to what she’d probably been expecting – a suit and tie. After all, this was a seven-digit salary we were talking about here.

  To be fair though, she hadn’t been what I expected either. I had figured she’d be wearing a pants suit, or maybe a shapeless dress with her hair scraped back into a severe bun. Instead, she wore a fitted coral dress that wrapped around her curves enticingly. She had on black and gold shoes that, while professional, were sleek and sexy. Adorned with no other jewelry than a black and gold ring, and black gem studs, she was the picture of feminine strength. Her matching lipstick and thick black lashes seemed to be the only makeup she was wearing, and I liked that about her. She didn’t need to put on a ‘face’ to come to work, unlike the woman I’d just left earlier today. Her blond hair was straight and sleek, cut in layers that framed her face without seeming messy. She was obviously a beautiful woman, and she wasn’t afraid to hide behind an ugly pants suit. Although, honestly, I probably still would’ve found her hot even in that. She had that kind of look. That come-fuck-me look that had me pressing my thighs together, trying to will down the hard-on currently pressed against my jeans.

  She wasn’t looking at me like she wanted to fuck me though. Nope, certainly not. She was looking at me more like she wanted to stab me – and not in the same way I wanted to stab into her.

  I sat back in my chair, trying to think of how I could turn this around before she prettily invited me out of her office and I lost the last chance I had this season to do what I did best – coach.

  “Miss Bowman… I assume it is, Miss?”

  Almost immediately, I saw my blunder. I’d simply been asking, trying to tell myself that I couldn’t be attracted to her if she was married to someone else, but instead, I’d come across arrogant and old-fashioned. Like a woman of her age should be married. Suddenly, I was wrapped up trying to guess how old she was. No wrinkles, but she clearly took care of herself and her body, so maybe late twenties, early thirties?

  “It is,” she snapped, pursing her bold-colored lips. “I assume you’re Mister Lawson?”

  I fought a laugh. This kitten had claws. “It is.”

  * * *

  3

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  CHAPTER THREE

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  Ruby

  Major Lawson was exactly what I had been expecting. He was arrogant and overly self-confident. I could see that from the fact he had turned up to an interview for a seven-figure job in jeans and a t-shirt. I’d heard plenty of rumors over the years of his temper and his bad attitude. Perhaps that left me reserved and unwilling to get to know him as I sat across the desk from him. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to try to disguise the fact that his arms were tattooed to high hell. There wasn’t a single inch of bare skin from his wrist all the way up to the short sleeve of his t-shirt. And it’s hot as fuck, my traitorous mind whispered. I shrugged the thought away.

  “So, Miss Bowman, are we going to get on with this or are you simply going to sit there and gawk at me all day?” Major asked and I suddenly realized that I had in fact been staring at him, working him over with my eyes as I tried to get a better gauge on him. “I mean, I know that I am devilishly good looking but there is no need to stare.”

  His cocky grin irritated me, and it did something to my stomach I didn’t appreciate. And my panties. “Being big-headed isn’t going to get you the job,” I assured him as I turned my attention to the papers in front of me. There was nothing relevant to the interview on them, but he sure as hell didn’t need to know that. I picked up a pen and began to scribble notes, careful to angle the page so that he couldn’t read what I was writing. Mainly because it was a load of jibberish.

  “Well, then, why don’t we start with you telling me exactly what this job is.” Major leaned forward in his seat and clasped his hands together on his knee. I couldn’t help but watch the way the muscles in his arms bulged as he did so. I had never really been a fan of tattoos but, on him, they were delicious.

  Stop it, I snapped at myself as soon as the thought crossed my mind. You shouldn’t be looking at him like that.

  This man was bad news. I knew it from all the things I’d heard. I could see it on his face. I don’t even need to go there. I need him, but I don’t need him like that.

  “Maybe you should tell me a little bit about yourself before I disclose any information,” I told him. This was my office. I wasn’t about to be ordered around in it. I was the boss here whether he liked it or not, and from the look on his face, I guessed that it was not.

  “With all due respect, how can you expect me to interview for a job I know nothing about?” Major insisted, “I can’t exactly tailor my answers to fit the job if I don’t have a clue what it is.”

  “Exactly.” I pointed the end of my pen at him. “I don’t want you to tailor your answers – I want to get a measure on the real you.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard plenty about me over the years if you are any good at your job.” Major shrugged and leaned back in his seat as though he had little more to say on the subject. His expression darkened, and I knew he wasn’t pleased to have his name dragged through the mud as it had been.

  “Yes, you are right.” I wasn’t about to sugar coat it for him. “I’ve heard plenty, and it definitely puts me on edge having you here interviewing for a position. I am not going to lie to you. But I am not one for going on rumors. I prefer to trust my gut, so give it your best shot. Impress me.”

  “Well then, if you’ve heard all the rumors, you’ve also heard all the work I’ve done over the years,” Major grinned and a dimple flashed at me. A real, goddamned dimple. Then he rolled his eyes at me. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you all of that.”

  “Perhaps I’m looking for the man beneath all the shining lights and rumors. Perhaps I want to know the kind of man, the real man, that I will be bringing onto the team.” I leaned back in my own chair and clasped my own hands on my lap in an attempt to look as calm as possible although the truth was that my stomach churned with the need to find myself a new coach as soon as possible. The truth was that I needed this man in front of me. I wasn’t about to let him know that though. I couldn�
��t have him walking all over me. It had taken me years to get to where I was. I wasn’t about to let all that crumble and fall now.

  “Well, then, in that case, all you need to know is I am not a sociable person, I will not be a yes man and I will not take shit from anybody. But when it comes to my team, I get the job done and I don’t mess around.” Major spoke with such fire that it almost made me admire him, although I had heard it all before from just about every coach I’d ever met. They all thought they were the biggest, best coach in the game. Yet something in Major’s eye made me believe him, a certain flair I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

  “It sounds like you are just what we need, Mister Lawson, but I should warn you that, like yourself, I do not take shit either,” I explained.

  Major looked shocked by my use of a cuss word. I forced myself to hide the smile that came along with his shocked expression and he gave me the same courtesy of quickly shaking away his look.

  “I would never expect any general manager, man or woman, to take shit from anybody,” Major assured me, and I had to give him credit for that. He knew exactly where I was coming from. I caught his eyes roaming down my skirt to my legs and fought back a grin. And I wasn’t the only one affected by our closeness. It’s like our bodies were drawn together, humming.

  I cleared my throat. “Then I am glad we are on the same page.” I nodded to him and shuffled my papers a little.

  “We would be if you would tell me what the job is.” Major was beginning to look pissed, and I had to admit, it only aided in making him look hotter. The stormy look he gave me was enough to get my panties in a twist, not that I’d ever admit that. I’d had to work around a lot of attractive men in my job. Major Lawson was going to be no different from any of the rest of them.