Quarterback Draw

by Jaci Burton

  It wasn't a kiss. It was an almost kiss, and it was damned frustrating. Her lips were right on his, but he couldn't move in. He wanted to jerk her fully against him and take what she teasingly offered. Their gazes were locked, their bodies entwined, and it was a good thing cold water rushed over him, because he'd never been hotter.

  "Goddamn awesome," he heard the director say, but Grant could only suffer through the tease, sliding his hands down her bare back, feeling the silken softness of her skin, her breasts against his chest, and bide his time.

  But this time, he knew she felt it, knew it from the way her heart pounded against his chest, from the fast way she breathed, from the passion he saw in her eyes. This was no work-related, I'm-bored-and-let's-get-this-over-with kind of look. She was engaged and in this with him.

  "Okay, we're done," the director said.

  And this time, instead of pulling away immediately, her gaze drifted. Reluctantly, as if she wanted to stay locked with him like this, as if she wanted everyone to go away so they could finish what they'd started.

  Yeah, he wanted that, too.

  He stood and took her hands, pulling her to a standing position.

  "Are you through with me for the day?" Katrina asked the director.

  "Yeah, we're done. Good job. Both of you. I think these shots are going to be amazing."

  "Thanks," Grant said.

  Katrina accepted her top from the assistant, and looped the string around her neck. Still staring at him, she put it back on.

  "Want me to tie that for you?" he asked.

  "Sure." She pivoted and lifted her hair while he fastened the back of the bikini top for her.

  When she turned around, she smiled.

  "Now, how about that dip in the water you mentioned."

  Before he could answer, she was off, walking past the rocks, and disappeared into the waves. He followed right behind her, diving into the water.

  When he surfaced, she was right next to him.

  "You're right. I needed that. It was hot out there," she said, then started to swim back to shore.

  He caught her ankle and spun her around. She kicked at him, laughing, but he brought her leg up and pulled her around him.

  "You're like a mermaid. Elusive."

  He thought she'd push away, but she held on to his shoulders. "I'm exhausted. I did a solo shoot at sunrise this morning. And I need to pack."

  "When do you fly out?"

  "Tomorrow morning."

  "Plenty of time. And you're probably hungry. I know I am."

  "I am a little hungry."

  "Then let's get something to eat. We'll hang out by the water. Enjoy this view before we both have to leave it."

  She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. I need to take a shower and scrub all this makeup and oil off."

  "Me, too. Meet you at the pool in a half hour?"

  "Sure."

  He was reluctant to let go of her. She felt good against him, and he wanted to kiss her, but she was still resistant and he knew better than to push it, so he let go and they made the dash to shore.

  After taking a shower and checking messages, he ran into Trevor in the lobby. He was packed and on his way out.

  "Done?" Grant asked.

  "Yeah. I had an early shoot this morning, so fortunately I have time to catch a flight this afternoon and get home to my woman. How about you?"

  "Just finished a shoot, so I'm going to hang out and enjoy the beach. I'll fly home tomorrow."

  They shook hands. "See you at one of the games," Grant said, "or we'll have dinner next time you're in St. Louis."

  "I think we're playing you this season, so we'll definitely get together."

  "Okay. Have a safe flight."

  Grant picked a table close to the water, and ordered an ice water with lemon. It wasn't too long until Katrina showed up, her hair still wet from her shower, and no makeup this time. It didn't detract from her beauty at all. In fact, without makeup, she looked so young, and yet so incredibly pretty.

  He stood when she came to the table.

  "Thanks. Were you waiting long?"

  "I just got here and ordered a water."

  The waitress came over, and Katrina ordered the same. The waitress left menus for them while she went to get Katrina's drink.

  "I'm sorry. I wanted to check on the kids."

  "And how are they?"

  "They're fine."

  "What are they doing over the summer?"

  "They have camp."

  He grimaced. "Camp? What kind of camp?"

  "Anya has music camp. She plays the flute. Leo has theater camp."

  "Do they enjoy those things?"

  "Of course they do."

  "So your brother doesn't play sports?"

  She gave him a half smile. "Not every boy plays sports, you know."

  "Has he ever expressed an interest in it? Or your sister?"

  "They get plenty of physical exercise."

  "Now you sound like a mother."

  "I'm going to take that as a compliment and not the insult you intended."

  Their waitress came and they ordered food. After she left, Grant looked at her. "I'm not saying every kid has to play sports. But music and theater? I mean yeah, those are great additions, but summer is a time to take off and do something fun."

  She sighed. "Those are fun activities for them, and keep them engaged. Would you prefer I let them hang out in front of the local drugstore in the summer and join a gang?"

  "Okay, now you're being dramatic. And overprotective. Not every kid who isn't involved with a scheduled activity every single day is doomed to gang life."

  He could see the defensiveness in the way she raised her chin and the straight line of her lips. "I'm doing the best I can."

  "I'm sure you are. And I can't imagine it's easy raising kids in New York. Have you ever thought about moving?"

  "Often. But I work there. It's easier to me to stay there since I'm on call a lot for shoots."

  "Which means you shoot in New York?"

  She took a sip of water. "Not exactly. But my agency is there and I meet with them a lot. And it's a good location for flights. It's convenient."

  He shrugged. "Something to consider for the kids. A big house in a great city. Lots of friends. Less supervision."

  "Oh, come on, Grant. Teenagers can get in trouble in any city."

  He laughed. "This is true. I got in plenty of trouble growing up in Green Bay, and Texas."

  She leaned back in her chair. "Now this I want to hear. I've told you about me and my family. Tell me about yourself and this trouble you got into."

  "I don't think we have enough time for all that. I might miss my flight tomorrow."

  She laughed. "Surely you weren't that bad."

  "According to my mom, I was. Then again, she'd likely say the same thing about all my brothers. Maybe not my sister."

  She arched a brow. "You have brothers?"

  "Three of them."

  "Wow. Your poor mother."

  "You obviously haven't met my mom. She rules with an iron fist. We're all a little afraid of her."

  She laughed. "I'd like to meet her."

  "You'd like her. She'd like you, too, with your music and drama lessons."

  "And here we go again with that."

  The waitress brought their dinner, so they settled in and ate.

  "What's up next for you?" he asked.

  "I have a shoot next week, then a bit of a break, fortunately, so I can spend some time with the kids."

  "Taking any trips with them or doing anything fun?"

  "Not really."

  "Do they like to travel?"

  "I don't know. I've never asked them."

  He leaned back. "You should take them on a summer vacation before school starts up. Maybe to the beach, or go horseback riding or something other than that camp stuff."

  She finished her salad and took a long swallow of water. "I'll definitely give those ideas some thought."

 
"Yeah, I'm sure you will." Grant figured she'd give it no thought whatsoever. "Hey, I'm going to be playing against New York in a few weeks for a preseason game. I'd love to see you and meet the kids."

  She gave him a flat look. "That wouldn't be a very good idea."

  "Why not?"

  "For the very obvious reason that you and I aren't involved in any way."

  He shrugged, set his fork on his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin. "So? What does that have to do with anything? I like you. I'd probably like your brother and sister. And frankly, I'm a fun guy. I know they'd like me."

  "Yes, I'm sure they would. But I don't want to confuse them."

  "In what way would meeting me confuse them? Because I'm a guy that you know? It's not like you'd introduce me as your boyfriend or some dude you're dating. We met on a photo shoot. I'd be in town, and we could go do some fun stuff. You could show me the city."

  She wrinkled her nose. "Tourist things?"

  He laughed. "Yeah, even tourist things. Something wrong with that?"

  "I guess not."

  "Great."

  They finished their meal, the waitress cleared their plates and brought the check, which Grant signed. Katrina stood. "Well, thank you. I had a nice time."

  "Do you want to hang out by the pool for a while?"

  "No. I think I should start packing."

  She acted like she couldn't get away from him fast enough, and he knew it wasn't because she didn't like him. He hadn't been pushy--okay, maybe a little pushy. So maybe it was time to back off a little. But not too much. He liked this woman and he wanted to get to know her better.

  He walked with her back to her bungalow, and waited while she dug her key out of her bag. When she turned around to tell him good-bye, he figured he'd push just a little bit more.

  "So about New York ..."

  Her head was down, but she lifted her gaze to his. "I still don't think that's a good idea. I mean, it's been great meeting you and all, but I don't see us continuing our relationship beyond today."

  She was a tough one. So skittish. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Katrina. But we have chemistry. We can be friends, right?"

  Katrina didn't have friends. Especially not guy friends. She worked, then she went home and hung out with Leo and Anya. That was all she had time for. She didn't socialize, and she absolutely did not date. She had no idea what Grant's motive was, but she was not on board for this.

  And it wasn't because she didn't like him. She liked him a little too much, and that was the problem. Just doing the photo shoots with him for the past couple of days sparked feelings and interest she hadn't felt in ...

  Well, never.

  She had no business feeling those feelings. Not with all she had on her plate. She couldn't afford to avert her concentration when she had people depending on her.

  "No. We can't be friends."

  His brows rose. "We can't. Why not?"

  "Because ... well, because."

  She inwardly cringed at her lame excuse. She was usually so adept at shutting men down, so cool at expertly pushing them away. Now she fumbled for a valid excuse, and she had no idea why.

  Because you don't want to, that's why.

  He stepped in, and picked up a strand of her hair. She looked down at where his fingers had hold of her hair, and recalled the way his fingers had felt in her scalp during the photo shoot.

  She'd liked his hands on her. She wanted more of that. Her body wanted a lot, lot more of him touching her.

  "You can do better than that. It's because you think I'm an arrogant asshole."

  Her head shot up. "What? No. I never said that."

  His lips curved. "I know. Which is why I'll be calling you when I come to New York." He pulled out his phone. "Give me your number."

  Her number fell out of her mouth as if she were possessed. What was wrong with her, anyway?

  "Great. Just a friendly call. We'll have dinner. Go do some fun touristy things. You, me, and your brother and sister. No strings attached. Promise."

  She frantically searched for one of her expert shutdown comebacks, but all thoughts fled as he wrapped his arm around her and tugged her against his hard, muscular body.

  "Until I see you in a few weeks, Katrina, I'm going to do what I've wanted to do since your director put our lips so close together today."

  He slid his hand into her hair--and, dear God, she really liked that. And then he kissed her, and she had no thoughts at all except how soft and full his lips were, how much passion he poured into the kiss, and how he backed her against the door of her bungalow so he could press his body against hers.

  Oh, that body. She felt every inch of it aligned with hers, and she wanted so much more.

  She dropped her bag and held on to his shirt, felt the mad wild beat of his heart against her hand as he pressed the kiss deeper, his tongue sliding against hers. She wanted to straddle him, to rock her center against his, to massage the thrumming ache he'd brought to life. That ache roared with demand and it wouldn't be denied. She wanted to beg him to push open her door and get her naked, then lick her all over until she came about a hundred times.

  But he finished the kiss, brushed his lips against hers, then leaned his forehead to hers.

  She heard him swallow while she fought to catch her breath.

  He took a step back and she saw fiery passion in his eyes. "I'm going to be honest with you here, Katrina. After that kiss? I'm not so sure about the just friends thing."

  He turned and walked away, and she fumbled behind her for the door handle, turning it and backing inside.

  Just friends? Who was he kidding?

  The man was dangerous.

  She was going to have to figure out a way to never, ever see Grant Cassidy again.

  FIVE

  "TWENTY-FOUR AND OUT, SIX, HUT HUT!"

  Grant backed away from center, ball in hand, and searched the field, scouting receivers while his front line did their job, keeping the defenders away.

  He spied Cole Riley on an open route and threw the ball into Jamarcus Davis's waiting hands.

  It was a good play.

  The whistle blew and he regrouped with his offense.

  Both the running and passing game were going well. The team looked good this preseason. All their key players were healthy, and the rookies were coming along. If they were lucky and everyone stayed injury-free, they had a shot at a damn good season.

  Practice today was long, but productive. Coach Tallarino was happy with their progress, and Grant liked what he saw on offense. He had a lot of targets to hit with his receivers, and that's all he wanted.

  "Looking good out there, Grant," the coach said after practice. "How's the arm?"

  He'd had some stiffness in his shoulder during the off-season, but he'd worked it out with therapy and weights. "Doing good. No pain, no stiffness."

  "Let the trainers check you out. I don't want to take any chances. And be sure to check in with the team docs before we take off for New York."

  "You got it, Coach."

  He met with the trainers, who went through his range of motion. He felt no pain, which was a relief to him. A quarterback was only as good as his throwing arm. When the doc came in, they went through even more.

  "No stiffness? And don't lie to me, because I'll know if you do."

  He liked Martin Ashwell, the team doctor. "A little in the morning when I first get up. But I do the range of motion exercises the PT staff gave me, and after a hot shower, I'm fine."

  Marty nodded. "That's to be expected. But no sharp pains?"

  "No."

  "Good." The doc tested his range of motion, and pressed on some of the spots he'd complained were tender during the off-season. He'd had a cortisone shot, and some physical therapy.

  "I really feel great, Marty."

  "Your MRI looked clear. I don't see any scar tissue. PT staff said you worked it during off-season like you were supposed to and you didn't miss any appointments. You're a better patient
than most of the guys. And you lifted weights and built some muscle mass in your upper body. That'll help."

  He laughed. "I kind of need my arm. It's my money-maker."

  Marty slapped his back. "You're a smart guy, Grant. And a good player. You can put your shirt back on."

  The doc made some notes on his computer, then turned around. "You're good to go. Monitor your movements and pain level. I'd say as long as you don't do anything stupid, and stay in tune with the signals of your body, you'll be fine. If you feel any sharp pains, let me know."

  "Will do."

  "I'll let the coach know you're fully cleared."

  "Thanks, Marty."

  He didn't fully exhale until after he left the team facility and was in his car. Then he took a minute and let out a deep breath.

  Yeah. He was clear. His shoulder was fine, and his career wasn't over. He'd never said it out loud to anyone, never told his family about it, just kept it to himself. But the issue with his shoulder had scared the shit out of him. Things like that could end a quarterback's career.

  He wasn't ready for it to be over yet.

  He closed his eyes, gripped the steering wheel, and ... breathed.

  His phone rang, so he fished it out of the cup holder and checked the display.

  It was his agent.

  "Hey, Liz."

  "Hey, yourself. How did the shoot go in Barbados?"

  "It went good."

  "So detailed as always, Cassidy. Who were you paired up with?"

  "Katrina Korsova."

  "Outstanding. She's one of the best. I can't wait to see the pictures. Anyway, there's a thing when you're in New York next week."

  He loved Elizabeth Riley. She was one of the best agents in the business, a shark when it came to contract negotiations. She was also great with exposure, working with his PR team to make sure he was as noticeable off the field as he was on. He didn't necessarily mind that.

  "A thing? What kind of thing?"

  "A charity function for the Merritt Foundation. They do all kinds of great things for disadvantaged youth."

  "Sounds right up my alley."

  "Good. You just need to make an appearance, take some pictures and sign some autographs. Can you make time for it?"

  "I can, as long as it doesn't interfere with practices or the game."

  "It won't. I'll send you the details."

  "Okay. How's the little one?"

  "She's great, thank you for asking. Getting bigger all the time. Starting to crawl, which means I need two more sets of eyes and about four more hands."