The Playbook (a Secret Baby Sports Romance) (3 page)

I
climbed
out of the SUV and put on a smile. My body ached in a good way from the brutal practice session. Being used to the first string, I’d been abruptly introduced to the second string practice, meaning that I was actually on the field, throwing the ball as the first string defense practiced. My ribs still hurt from where I’d been drilled into the turf by a quick-footed defensive back. Trey had stood over me with a pleased grin and welcomed me officially to the team. Not even a dip in the ice tub had taken away the sting, and I was sure I would have some bruises blooming in the morning. The experience certainly wasn’t what I was used to, but I didn’t plan on it staying that way for long. Somehow, some way, I was going to get to first string.

Still, my first day had gone pretty well overall. A handful of my new team members, Terrence included, invited me out with them for some much needed downtime. He had been the one to pick me up from the team’s temporary housing, where I was currently based until I could find a more permanent place to live, then bringing me to a local—bordering on fancy—restaurant where the team enjoyed having dinner. They even had a reserved room in the back with a complete buffet and full bar waiting for us on our arrival. That wasn’t the only thing waiting.

“Dude, see? I bet you didn’t have anything like this in Minnesota,” Terrence was saying as we entered the room. Women were everywhere, outnumbering the men two to one. Some had sparkling diamonds on their fingers, and I knew they were off limits, the wives of some of the players who hadn’t fallen victim to the whole family thing yet. But there were plenty of spare women whose ring fingers were unoccupied. I put on my dazzling smile, perfect for the occasion, one that the ladies couldn’t resist. I wouldn’t be going home alone tonight.

Walking over to the bar, I ordered a beer and enjoyed the view, catching the eye of a blonde in the corner who was pretending not to pay attention to me. She was gorgeous, a slight smile playing on her luscious red lips. Every man’s instant hard-on, but for me, well, I really didn’t have a type. I liked them all, regardless of hair or skin color. While I preferred a woman who was shorter than me, my last real girlfriend—a runway model—was a few inches taller, especially when she wore a set of killer heels. Just thinking about those heels being worn to bed and the blonde giving me the fuck-me eyes made the bulge in my pants increasingly hard.

When I thought about it, it had been way too long since I’d had a woman in my actual bed (occasional backseat blow-jobs and quickies didn’t really count). I’d been too consumed with the mess of my professional career that had led me to this place. My ex had split as soon as the waters of my life got rough—another woman looking only for the glitz and glamour of dating a professional athlete. I couldn’t blame her, though. I wasn’t the type to stick around when the going got tough in a relationship, either. I liked the good and fun times but not the emotional side that sucked people into thinking that love was forever and all that shit.

“See? Don’t we get treated good here?”

I looked up to find Terrence next to me, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes on the bevy of ladies that were milling around the room. “Yeah,” I responded, taking a long draw off my beer. “This is good, man.” It was exactly what I needed after this morning’s false start.

Trey joined us, swaying as he walked up to the bar. His eyes were already starting to glaze over. He threw his massive arm around my shoulders, giving me a friendly squeeze. “Dude, I can’t believe I tackled you so hard today. I guess I was pumped. I’m just fucking ready to get this season started.”

I felt the pull of my ribs and smiled uncomfortably, knowing I would remember him for days to come. “Hey, no problem, Trey. It’s a brutal sport.” I doubted the big guy would be apologizing to me if he weren’t already three sheets to the wind, the smell of whiskey strong on his breath.

“I feel so bad, man,” the big guy continued, “Lemme buy you a drink.”

“Better yet, Trey,” Terrence interrupted with a grin, “why don’t you tell Jacob here your favorite number in the playbook. We need to get the new guy laid.”

“The book,” Trey repeated, a similar grin coming over his face as he released me. “Hell yeah, that’s what I can do for you. I can get you someone gooood. That will make up for my hit, though it was a damn fine hit.”

“I… no thanks,” I replied, my thoughts drifting back to earlier in the day. There was only one name that had stuck out to me in that book, the one with the fat red X.
A real challenge.
I didn’t know why, but I was highly intrigued. She seemed like a woman who was looking to be conquered, and I could be… no, I
was
that man. Besides, I was perfectly capable of pulling chicks on my own.

“Come on, Jacob,” Terrence said, slapping me on the back with a friendly laugh. “Which one do you want? Red-head? Blonde? There are some real gems in that book, some that will knock your socks off.” He then grinned—toothy and wide—and gave Trey a wink. “Get it? Knock your socks off?” Trey laughed, though I doubted he had gotten the joke; his face was looking pale now. How much alcohol could that man hold, anyway? Eager not to get puked on, I stepped casually to the side… just in case.

“Think of it as our welcome present to you,” Terrence finished, a smile in his voice. “A proper welcome to the team type of thang.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, wishing that I could just get drunk and pound away at one of these women at the end of the night, but my thoughts kept straying back to Madam X, Lucia. Now if she was really an untouchable woman, I wanted to be the one to touch her. These guys would go fucking crazy if I could and I would have no problem gaining their respect. Hell, it might even get me to that starting position in the long run. A man who had the team behind him was a powerful one; a leader they would follow. “I want Lucia then.”

Trey took one look at Terrence and they both burst into laughter. “You want the unfuckable? Terrence, didn’t you tell him about her? Hell naw, man, you don’t want her. Are you crazy? Don’t stick your dick in crazy, man.”

“I did tell him,” Terrence said defensively, giving me an odd look like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. “She’s… not for you. There’s no way you will get within ten feet of her, anyway. She’ll walk all over you in a minute, dude.”

“You wanna bet?” I asked, raising a brow. Hell, there weren’t many women that could turn me down. There had been only one if I was remembering correctly: Sarah from eighth grade, but that was only because she was moving away. I still got a peck on the cheek, though, as my goodbye present. Turning on the Jacob Maddox charm was second nature to me, and now, with a whole new population to tackle, I wanted to start with the hardest one. I wanted a challenge, just like on the field where I performed to my highest caliber. This would get me started off on the right foot here in this town.

“I bet I can get in her bed before the season is over. She will be panting after me like a dog with a bone.”

Trey leaned in close, his eyes looking into mine. “Hey, Terrence, I think I hit him too hard today. You think he’s got a concussion?”

“He’s gonna have one if he goes after her,” Terrence answered. “Face it, Jacob, you will lose the bet before it ever really begins with that one. No one gets anywhere with Lucia except in trouble. She’s a tough broad.”

“A grand says otherwise,” I replied confidently, draining the rest of my beer. “To both of you if I lose. Come on, take a chance. If I fall on my face, you will be a grand richer, both of you.”

“Aw, hell, he’s breaking out the big guns,” Terrence laughed, eyeing me. “Okay fine, I’m in. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes.”

“Me too,” Trey said, banging on the bar with his burly hands. “Hey, let’s get a round of shots here! We got some toasting to do!”

I shook my head and looked at my newfound friends. They really had no idea how good I was at winning over women… I had just won over both of them, and the night wasn’t even done yet.

“I tell you what,” Terrence said, throwing an arm over my shoulders after we downed a round of shots. “You should get started tonight. She works late hours at the facility.”

“She works at the stadium? For the team?” I asked, surprised. Was it really going to be that easy? I thought I was going to have to figure out who she was exactly, but a job at the stadium? Hell, that solved all my problems. She would be in close proximity to yours truly, making it even harder to resist me.

“Yeah, didn’t I mention that? She practically lives there,” Trey said, handing me another shot of tequila. “Maybe if you’re man enough, you could win the bet tonight.”

I thought about it for a moment, a wary grin spreading over my face. He was a little too eager, so it was probably too good to be true. But I wasn’t about to back down now. I wanted her. And the idea of knocking it out of the park tonight would truly put me in good stead with them.

She would never know what hit her, and by the time she did, I would be buried so deep that she wouldn’t want me to get out.

“All right,” I said, raising my glass. “Some Dutch courage and I’ll go get her.” This was going to be the easiest bet I’d ever won.

I
stepped off the elliptical
, wiping my face with the towel. I enjoyed this time of the evening, when the stadium, training grounds, and offices were quiet and no one else was around. It was therapeutic, a time when I could go over my day and prepare for the next. And while the job didn’t need me to stay so late—especially with my sad lack of patients—I still preferred to stick around till after everyone else went home.

The empty gym was certainly a bonus. I could train without feeling embarrassed, huffing and puffing. But it had done wonders for my fitness levels, though I was never going to be a bean pole; my curves were here to stay. Besides going home to my parents’ guest house and heating up a single microwave dinner never had me rushing for the door. My life consisted of two states: home and work, no real play to speak of. Well, I relaxed with a book occasionally. That was enough excitement for me, or at least that’s what I told myself.

Yes, it sounded horribly pathetic but college work had taken up much of my life for the last six years. My best friend lived halfway across the country, and I didn’t have any really close friends in Florida. When I had first moved back home, I had dated a time or two, but the guys, once they found out who my father was, seemed to only want to get close to me to get close to him, and I just didn’t have the time to put up with that. I really didn’t want to. I was too old to want nothing more than the mindless world of dating and sex with random partners. My last real boyfriend had tried to talk me out of pursuing my master’s degree, a mistake he had lived to regret. Looking back, I think he was intimidated that I was so professionally driven, so he tried to fit me into that ‘little woman’ mold that would make me secondary to him. Needless to say, I wasn’t disappointed when he packed up his stuff up and left.

Sighing, I pushed open the door to the gym and ran smack into a solid wall that smelled like spicy vanilla musk with a hint of malty beer.

“Hey there, I got you.” Two warm hands gripped my bare upper arms and held me steady as my own hands landed against a very muscular chest, covered with a smooth dress shirt that I had to resist running my fingers over. A steady heartbeat pounded beneath my hands.

“I am so sorry,” I stammered, my mind racing as I pulled back out of the grip and looked upward, expecting to see the janitor or an equipment manager working late. No such luck.

Who I found was a complete surprise. Jacob Maddox was standing before me, a happy grin on his handsome face that had my heart hammering in my chest. Here I was, in my gym shorts and a sports crop-top, dripping with sweat, and he, well, he looked like he had just come from a GQ photo-shoot.

“W-what are you doing here?”

He leaned against the doorway, blocking my path to freedom, his smile growing as he let his eyes slide up and down my body. My legs weakened and my knees trembled the longer his eyes roamed. Suddenly I wanted to be in a short cocktail dress, my curves strapped in and smoothed down. I wished I could look like a vixen, the type of woman I knew he was used to having on his arm.

“I was looking for someone,” he responded, his voice a low baritone.

“Oh?” I asked, crossing my arms over my middle in an effort to hide my near nakedness. Goosebumps started to appear up and down my body and they weren’t just the result of evaporating sweat. “Who’s that?” Breathing him in, I took a step back. Why did he have to smell so good?

“Lucia,” he replied with a lopsided smile that sent my heart into overtime. He was looking for me? But why now?

“You wouldn’t happen to know who she is, do you?”

Startled, I realized he had no idea who I actually was. So why was he looking for me? Was he going to apologize for not coming to his appointment today? I had been so mad; the entire conversation I was going to have with him had been planned out in my head, but he’d never given me the chance. And now he had caught me at a very vulnerable moment, and I was in no mood to be seen by the gorgeous football player, without even a lick of any makeup on! Plus, I probably smelled like sweaty gym socks. “W-why are you looking for her?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting to reveal myself… at least not yet.

He looked at me for a moment and I could tell by his unfocused, soft eyes that he had been drinking. Great. Now I had a drunk, mouth-watering football player to deal with.

“Well, I dunno if I need to find her now that I have found you. Where have you been all of my life, gorgeous?”

I wanted to laugh, really. He thought I was gorgeous? Jacob Maddox must be smashed, his vision blurred to the point where he couldn’t see the sweaty, red-faced woman in front of him. Yes, that had to be it. Intrigued by what he would want with me, I found myself not wanting to leave just yet. Besides, I doubted he would remember this conversation in the morning. If he did, well, our first encounter as client and therapist was going to be very awkward indeed. “Mr. Maddox, you are drunk.”

“Nah, just a little tipsy,” he said, pressing his fingers together to the point where they were barely touching.

I pursed my lips, trying to remember the last time I had gotten drunk myself. It had been a long, long time ago—a distant memory. Now I’d graduated to just a glass of wine or bottle of beer on the weekends. I hadn’t let myself have that type of fun since my first year of college, and I was no longer that girl anymore. I was responsible and determined, a professional woman.

“So, are you going to be cheering for me on game days, honey?” He continued edging closer to me. “Though if you do, I won’t be able to stay focused, knowing you are on the sidelines.”

“Are you always so flirty with the help?” I asked, realizing he thought I was a cheerleader. Yeah, right. I had no rhythm nor inclination to shake my ass, or those daft pompoms. And while I tried to take care of my body, I was too blessed in the chest region to be bouncing around the sidelines in one of those tight tops—I would need at least two sports bras to strap down what my mama gave me!

“Well there’s no law that says I can’t flirt,” he answered, reaching out to brush a stray hair from my face without warning.

The mere contact of his fingers left a trail of heat on my cheek, and I sucked in a breath. I knew I should’ve stopped him before anything else weird happened and simply walk away. But this was the most exciting thing that had happened to me in quite a while; it wasn’t every day that a strong, gorgeous man took the time to flirt with me. Why shouldn’t I allow myself this bit of fun? No one else was going to know, and I highly doubted that Mr. Maddox was going to remember it in the morning, either. I just hoped he wasn’t driving. “N-no, I guess there isn’t,” I finally said as he dropped his fingers.

“Well then,” he replied, pushing off of the doorframe and getting his balance, his feet seemingly unable to cooperate. “I see that you have already worked up a sweat without me. Now that is not fair at all.”

He was getting close, far too close, but like his feet, mine didn’t want to move, either.

“People tend to do that in the gym,” I laughed, finding this conversation absurd but delightful. When was the last time I had talked to anyone who wasn’t required to talk to me by a contract or wasn’t related to me?

He chuckled, the sound spreading a glow of warmth down into my lower belly. Idly, I wondered what would it be like to be touched properly by him? Besides, wasn’t this all just a fantasy anyway? Was he a slow lover, methodical and sure, or was he a fast lover, who liked to be more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy? But why was I putting all of this thought into a guy I barely knew anyway? Was it because he was drunk and I was, well, lonely?

The thought struck me hard. Oh God, I was lonely. Here I was almost twenty-five without anyone in my life save my career… work that did not keep me warm at night. Now, Jacob Maddox, he could definitely keep a girl scorching hot at night, let alone warm.

“What else do you do to work up a sweat?” he asked softly, his eyes twinkling. I laughed nervously and looked away. I could feel the heat spread across my cheeks betraying how much I was enjoying standing there with him. The ache in my lower region intensified.

Jacob took a step forward and I sucked in another breath, my lungs bursting with anticipation. When his hands grasped me around the waist, his fingers touching my bare skin, I nearly gasped aloud as the heat coursed through my body—it was almost overwhelming; the long forgotten touch of a man and the torturous heat he created. He pushed me up against the wall, the coolness of the concrete bricks cold against my back before his lips descended upon mine. I tasted the sweet beer on his lips then froze for a moment—surely I was dreaming? This couldn’t very well be happening to me, right now, with him, here at my place of work?

Was he really kissing me, or was I imagining it all? I wasn’t too sure which would be worse. That I would be so desperate to conjure up a panty-melting fantasy, or that I was actually kissing a player.

When his lips roamed lazily over mine, I heard myself sigh, my hands drifting up to his broad shoulders, the muscles honed from his long hours on the field. His tongue delved into my mouth; the sweet fire of his tongue touching mine sent sparks down my spine, curling my toes.
Oh my
.
I had to stop this. But did I really want to? This was perhaps the hottest kiss I’d had ever had, everything I thought it could be and more. Who could have thought that it would be this mind-blowing? And what the hell had I been missing out on?

The reality of who I was kissing came rushing back to me, full force, like a slap in the face. Jacob Maddox. I was kissing a football player, the one group of men I had sworn off completely. Not only that, I was kissing one that was due to be a patient—even if it was only an introductory meeting, a patient nonetheless. He was also a man I had no earthly idea about, not really. Sure I knew the tabloid playboy version of Jacob Maddox, but in reality I was kissing an absolute stranger. And yet it was delicious.

Pushing at his shoulders, I broke the kiss, forcing him back so that I could get out from under him. With a hand over my mouth I turned away from him, needing to be far, far away before my body persuaded me to do something crazy.

“Hey, wait!” he called as I hurried to the door, “I don’t even know your name.”

I burst out into laughter, thinking how absurd that was. He did know my name, but he still didn’t know that the girl he was looking for and the girl he had just kissed were one and the same.

I got through the door, hurried down the hall and encased myself in my office with the door shut in the span of a few seconds. Thank God we didn’t have our names on plaques by our offices, or he would find “Lucia” in ten seconds flat. My hands were shaking, my knees were knocking together, and my heart was racing. I felt like I’d just run a marathon and was about to collapse on the asphalt at the finish line. But standing with my back against the door, as if I were attempting to barricade and deny my feelings, I realized that wasn’t the scary part. The scary part was that I wanted to kiss him again… and again.

The dam was broken. Perhaps even irreparable.

What I had I just done? Why hadn’t I left at the first glimpse of the man?

With a heavy sigh and with adrenaline still coursing through my body, skin that Jacob Maddox had touched, I pushed off the door in a great hurry. I threw on a spare sweatshirt I had stashed in a drawer, then grabbed my work bag, searching desperately for my keys. I needed to get out of here before Jacob starting his quest again, looking for the elusive
Lucia
.