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Authors: Shanna Hatfield

Love at the 20-Yard Line (6 page)

BOOK: Love at the 20-Yard Line
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“Okay. But if I turn up with fang marks on my neck or my head missing tomorrow, you’re gonna be in really big trouble.”

He chuckled as he pulled out onto the nearly deserted street and followed her directions. She didn’t live all that far from the diner. In fact, her apartment was only five blocks from his place.

“Got it. No biting or decapitating.” He glanced her direction as they sat at a red light. “At least for tonight, I’m on my best behavior. I’m trying to impress this girl, but I get the idea she isn’t all that into me.”

“Really?” Haven wondered what was wrong with a girl who wouldn’t be flattered by attention from Brody. “Where did you meet her?”

“At a football game. I looked up into the stands and there she was.”

“What does she look like?” Haven asked, curious as to the type of girl that caught Brody’s eye. She pictured someone like Allie.

“She’s got curly blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, dimples in her cheeks, and the pinkest lips that just beg for a kiss.” Shocked that Haven didn’t seem to know he spoke of her, Brody tried to keep a straight face.

When she caught on to his teasing, she narrowed her gaze and glared at him. “You ought to know I’m well-versed in being teased. I do have three older brothers, remember?”

“I know, but you’re so gullible.” Brody liked that fact. She was so innocent it was almost comical.

“I’m not either,” she said hotly, turning her head and staring out the window. After a moment, she sighed and glanced back at him. He could see the hint of her dimples as she smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“Maybe more than a little, Miss Haven Haggarty.” Brody turned into her apartment complex and parked in an empty space close to her door.

He unfastened his seat belt, jumped out, and ran around the cab of the truck. Determined to walk her to the door, he wished she’d invite him in. He’d enjoyed talking with her and hoped she’d be open to continuing the conversation for a while.

“You don’t need to be out in this cold, Brody. I can get myself to the door.” Haven took his hand as he helped her out of his truck.

“I know, but I’ll walk you to the door just the same. You never know when a vampire or crazed killer might jump out of nowhere.” Brody strolled down the sidewalk with her hand still held in his. He liked the soft, delicate feel of her fingers against his palm. That mere connection of her skin touching his sent a flurry of sensation zipping up his arm, right into his chest.

“How about that? Here we are at the door and we’re both still alive with no madmen in sight.” Haven pulled her fingers from his grasp so she could dig in her purse for her key and unlock the door.

After opening it a crack, she turned to Brody and stuck out her hand. When he enclosed it in his big warm one again, a tremor worked its way up from her toes. She breathed in a whiff of his scent and was certain she’d never smelled anything so utterly masculine and divine.

“Thank you for driving me home. I apologize for the behavior of my supposed friends,” Haven said, looking up at Brody’s face in the dim porch light. She was beginning to think he might just be the most handsome man she’d ever seen in person. Certainly the most handsome one she’d ever seen up close.

An overpowering yearning to run her fingers along that chiseled jaw and chin made her take a step back. She bumped into the door, sending it banging against the inside wall.

“No problem. I’m just glad I was there to drive you home.” Brody realized an invitation to accompany her inside wasn't going to materialize. He should have known he was wishing for something that wouldn’t happen.

“Thanks again. Have a good rest of the weekend.” She tugged her hand from his as she backed into the apartment and flicked on a light. He could see a nice living room behind her and thought about walking inside, but knew instinctively that would frighten her.

“I will. You, too. Thanks for coming to the game tonight.”

Brody took a step in the direction of his truck. The last thing he wanted to do was leave, but he knew he couldn’t stay.

“I enjoyed watching you play, Jump It Up Jackson.” Haven’s teasing smile brought out her dimples once more. She waggled her fingers at Brody, then shut the door.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he hurried back to his truck and drove home, caught in a state between bliss and undeniable longing.

Chapter Five

 

On a whim, hoping to catch Haven at home Sunday afternoon, Brody drove to her apartment and knocked on the door. After his fourth knock, he decided she wasn’t there. Or, if she was, she wasn’t going to let him in.

By Wednesday morning, every nerve in his body felt tightly strung and about to snap, so he pulled her business card out of his wallet and called her at ten minutes past eight. He assumed she’d be in the office by then. He’d bet she even showed up early, to get a jumpstart on her day.

Anxiously waiting for her to answer, he let out the breath he’d been holding when her soft voice came on the line.

“Good morning, Haven. This is Brody Jackson. I’ve given some consideration to your proposal about modeling. I was wondering if we could discuss it over lunch.” He had no intention of doing any modeling, but grasped at any excuse to see her.

“Good morning, Brody. It’s nice to hear from you.” Haven spoke calmly, although her feet tapped out a happy dance beneath her desk. Her head told her to stay away from Brody Jackson, but her heart and the rest of her cheered enthusiastically at the opportunity to see him again. “Let me check my schedule and see what I’ve got open.”

Haven didn’t care if she had to cancel every appointment on her calendar, she would have lunch with Brody. Fortunately, she had an opening at eleven.

“Sorry for the short notice. I just thought I’d take a chance and see if you could squeeze me in.” Brody thought he sounded like an overanxious moron. Always in control, always smooth - Haven left him feeling like he’d just gotten off a rollercoaster. The constant state of highs and lows was entirely out of character for him.

Since the team had a rare day off from practice, he hoped to use the time to further his cause with the cute girl.

“I’ve got an opening if you’d like to meet at eleven. Would that work for you?” Haven hoped like everything he’d say yes. If they wanted to visit more than an hour, she would have time before her next appointment at half past one that afternoon.

“That works great. I’ll come pick you up. See you then.” Brody disconnected the call before Haven could disagree.

He shot both arms up in the air and pumped his fists in victory.

There wasn’t a girl alive he couldn’t win over and he sure wasn’t going to let Haven be the first. He’d never had to work this hard to get a date, pretending to be interested in something he wasn’t, or had a girl infiltrate his thoughts for more than a day or two like she did.

His unreasonable interest in the fair-haired girl had lasted for almost two weeks. Once he kissed her, he’d realize there was no spark and his life could return to normal. Her face would stop floating through his dreams, he’d stop imagining the feel of her soft sweaters or smooth skin beneath his fingers, and her tantalizing fragrance would cease to invade his senses.

The morning passed quickly and he was soon on his way to Haven’s office to pick her up. In his haste to see her, he’d left earlier than he needed to. He sat parked down the street for ten minutes because he didn’t want to seem too eager. At five minutes before eleven, he parked his truck in a space close to the door and walked inside.

A young woman glanced his way then looked again, staring openly at him as he stood by her desk.

“I’m here to see Miss Haggarty,” he said, smiling at the girl as she sat unmoving, blinking her eyes at him like she was trying to decide if he was real. When she continued to stare, he repeated his statement. “I’m here to see Miss Haggarty. Could you please let her know Brody Jackson is here?”

“Certainly, Mr. Jackson,” the girl finally said, pushing a button on her phone then quietly stating Haven had a visitor.

“She’ll be right out, sir. You may have a seat if you like.” The girl pointed to a set of chairs and a sofa across from her desk.

“I’ll stand, thanks.” He stepped near a window and looked outside. The office was located in a newer commercial area surrounded by well-maintained businesses. From all the brown grass and empty planter boxes, he assumed it was probably pretty in the spring when flowers bloomed and everything was green.

“Brody, you didn’t need to come pick me up. I could have met you.” Haven hurried toward him with a smile that brought out her dimples. She already had on her coat and carried a large bag instead of a purse. “Shall we go?”

“You bet, doll.” Brody grinned as he held the door for her. Politely nodding to the receptionist, he noticed she watched them open-mouthed as he escorted Haven outside.

“Is your receptionist always so helpful?” Holding the pickup door open, he gave Haven a hand as she climbed up in her skirt and heels. It was a lot easier in her jeans the other night.

Haven laughed and Brody stood gazing at her dimples, loving the way her smile lit up her face. “Usually she’s very good, but alarmingly handsome men tend to distract her. We’ve had that problem a few times before.”

“So next time, I’ll just honk and not bother to come in,” Brody teased as he pulled out on the street and headed to a restaurant not far from Haven’s office. He wanted to have as much time with her as possible and the restaurant nearby seemed like a good choice.

“My boss would not love that. Besides, who says there’ll be a next time?” The teasing light in her eyes gave away the fact she was kidding. The sight of Brody in broad daylight did funny things to her ability to think, especially with an entire swarm of butterflies bursting into a frenzied flight in her stomach. With the way she felt, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat any lunch.

Brody was good-looking in his football uniform. In his casual shirt and jeans the other night he’d been quite handsome. Today, in a nice button down shirt with a sports jacket, jeans, and cowboy boots, he looked gorgeous and rugged.

Haven had to remind herself this was a business lunch, not a date, even though she wished he was interested in her personally. Convinced he was going to kiss her Saturday night, she’d experienced acute disappointment when all he’d done was squeeze her hand and leave her at the door.

She knew she was naïve, but she was sure there was some little spark of interest between the two of them. When their hands touched, she thought he felt something too. Apparently, it had been her own wishes making her fanciful.

Brody parked in front of a restaurant and she smiled at his choice. It was one of her preferred places to meet clients and the food was always good.

He rushed around the pickup and offered her his hand as she got out of the truck.

The sizzle from Saturday night returned, sending currents dancing up her arm. She ignored it and marched down the walk to the door. When they walked inside, the staff greeted Haven by name, a fact that surprised Brody.

“Do you have a reservation, Miss Haggarty?”

“No, Danielle. I don’t today.” Haven offered Brody a questioning glance.

“But I do,” he said, taking a step closer to the host station. “Brody Jackson.”

“We’ve got you right here, Mr. Jackson. Right this way, please.”

Seated at one of Haven’s favorite tables overlooking the river, Brody smiled at her in a way that made her fidgety and uneasy.

The server’s arrival pulled Haven out of his entrancing gaze. She spent the next several minutes pretending to study the menu. When the server reappeared with glasses of water and took their orders, she left Haven with nothing to distract her from the extreme appeal of Brody Jackson, local football star.

She wasn’t one who cared to watch sports on the news, but she’d sat glued to the television when the sportscaster showed a clip of Brody catching a pass at Saturday’s game. Watching him on the news confirmed she hadn’t imagined how good he looked in his uniform.

In need of something to draw her attention away from his perfect face, she took a notebook and pen out of her bag and placed them in front of her.

“You mentioned an interest in modeling. Is that correct?” Haven asked, prepared to take notes about the types of projects that attracted Brody.

“I did mention I wanted to discuss it,” Brody admitted sheepishly.

Puzzled, Haven stared at him as he reached across the table and took her hand in his. Although it made his thoughts jumble, he entirely liked the feel of her hand in his. Far more than he should.

“What I wanted to discuss is that I won’t be able to model for you.”

“You won’t?” Haven asked, confused. She was certain when Brody called to invite her to lunch, he indicated an interest in modeling. As she replayed the conversation in her mind, she recalled him saying he wanted to discuss it, which is what they were doing.

“No. Not with my football contract.” Brody experienced a moment of guilt at the look of distrust and disappointment on Haven’s face. She attempted to tug her hand away from his, but he held on, rubbing his thumb across her palm soothingly. The movement must have worked because she didn’t try to yank it away from him again.

“Why did you lead me to believe otherwise? Why did you bring me here?” Haven eyed him speculatively. “I’m beginning to think you coerced me into meeting you under false pretenses.”

Brody knew it was time for a confession. “I’m sorry for misleading you, but I figured if I called and asked you on a date, you’d tell me no. I was pretty sure if I called and you thought it was business, you’d agree to meet.”

“Trickery, subterfuge, and manipulating the truth. My, my, Mr. Jackson, this doesn’t bode well for you.” Haven removed her hand from Brody’s as the server arrived with their orders. After the girl left them to their meal, Haven looked from her salad to Brody, shaking her head.

She should be angry with him. She should tell him what she thought of his devious behavior. She should order him to stay far away from her and never call her again.

But she couldn’t.

Flattered by the amount of effort he went to just to have lunch with her, a little voice in her head whispered that maybe Brody Jackson was as interested in her as she was in him.

“I’m sorry, Haven. I promise I won’t do that again, but I just wanted to see you,” Brody confided despite the embarrassment it caused him. If she didn’t smile soon or let him know she wasn’t mad, he might end up on his knees, groveling. “I enjoyed talking with you the other night and just wanted an opportunity to get to know you better.”

“I see.” She turned her attention to from Brody to her salad. Although she wasn’t upset with him, he didn’t necessarily need to know that, yet.

They ate their meal in silence. Brody felt like squirming in his chair when Haven leveled her gaze at him. She looked like a stern teacher and he felt like a misbehaving schoolboy, about to receive a tongue-lashing.

“Well?” she finally asked, sitting back and crossing her arms in front of her.

He didn’t know how she did it, but he swore she used those glasses to look intimidating and formidable.

Brody was a grown man who let other grown men tackle him for a living, yet this sweet girl was about to make him break out in a cold sweat.

“Well, what?” he asked, using a napkin to dab at his suddenly perspiring forehead.

“You said you wanted to talk, so what was so important that you had to trick me into meeting you here?” Haven stared into his face. She had to fight to keep a smile from breaking out of hiding, so she practiced the unyielding glare she used at work when the staff told her something couldn’t be done. Amazingly, the glare enabled all sorts of impossible things to become possible.

With her delicate fragrance surrounding him, Brody could barely remember his name, let alone anything remotely close to witty conversation. Frantically searching for any topic to discuss, he remembered she had brothers. He cleared his throat, trying not to cringe beneath the fierce look she sent his direction.

“Tell me about your brothers. You said you had three, but you only mentioned two. What about the third brother?”

BOOK: Love at the 20-Yard Line
3.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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