It had only been twenty-four hours and Anthony missed her. Sure, he’d had a busy day. Weight lifting in the morning, coaches meetings, and practice. It was five-thirty and he sat at his piano, ignoring the hunger in his stomach. It was stupid, but he missed Cassidy. He wanted to see her, but he wouldn’t see her until tomorrow night. He hated waiting.

Since Cassidy had rushed away from the weight room, he’d been keyed up about her agreeing to go to his father’s party with him on Thursday. It’d been a long shot, he knew that, but if coming back from his accident this past year had taught him anything, it was that you always go for the long shot and brace yourself for failure if it comes.

At the moment, he let himself fall into his piano. The keys. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he would have done without the piano this past year. He’d been good before, but he was even better now, because he’d worked out his problems on these keys.

Of course, her face came into his mind. The way she’d kissed him the other night on the dance floor, then had a full-on meltdown and locked herself in the bathroom.

He wanted to ask more questions. He didn’t want to explain his functional training to her for two hours. He didn’t want to talk about other women he’d dated. He wanted to talk to her. Get to know her again.

He worried. She was a stellar reporter, and maybe it was fine and they were just really doing article stuff. In that case, what if she did uncover the truth about the pills?

Forget the article or his problems. He wanted to pick up where they had left off when they were sixteen. Wanted to know about her fiancé. Which was stupid. At least, he didn’t know how to ask, he wanted to know more. He’d even tried to pin down Scar and find out in an undercover kind of way what they’d been talking about the other night at the club when he’d danced with her. Scar had not been helpful.

He thought of her dad, thought of her taking him home from the treatment yesterday. She probably got worn out trying to do so much and didn’t want to cook. He checked his phone. Four o’clock.

Getting up, he scrolled through his phone and tapped on her newly acquired phone number he’d gotten from Tim. ‘It’s Anthony. How is your dad? Do you still like Chinese food? Can I bring some out in 30 minutes and check in on you guys?’

Immediately she texted back. ‘Thank you. I don’t need you to check in on us. We are fine.’

It ticked him off. Her independence was stubborn and still felt punishing. He rushed up to his room and changed into jeans and a flannel shirt and boots. Hey, he was going to the ranch. Maybe she needed help with the horses. Probably not, but maybe Anthony wanted to be prepared just in case. Which was stupid. When it came to Cass, he wasn’t himself.

He texted her back. ‘I’ll be there with Chinese in thirty.’

He didn’t see her response text because he’d already jumped into his truck and taken off, calling the Chinese place and ordering a couple of the favorites he remembered she liked.

* * *

Mr. Stone was sitting on the porch when Anthony got there, the shotgun in his hand, looking better than Anthony thought he would. He remembered when his own mother went through chemo and radiation, and it was hard.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, Anthony gripped the bag of Chinese and got out of the truck, trudging up to the porch with a plastered smile on his face. “Mr. Stone, how are you?”

Mr. Stone winked at him. “Fine, but it’s about time you call me Harrison, don’t you think?”

Taken aback, Anthony nodded. “Okay.”

Her father nodded back. “Good to see you, Anthony. How did my Cass do interviewing you the other day?”

The screen door was shut, but the main door was open. Anthony couldn’t see Cass, so he sat next to Mr. Stone on the porch. “Went great. She’s thorough. I think she’ll do a good job on this exclusive.”

Her father nodded and looked at the bags. “Nice of you to bring dinner out.”

Anthony opened the bags and glanced in. “I got some of your favorites, if I remember correctly. Fried rice and orange chicken.”

He looked a bit peaked. “Don’t eat too much at the moment, but it’ll be good. Cass still makes me dinner even though I tell her I don’t need it.” He shrugged. “So thank you for taking that worry off her plate tonight.”

It made Anthony happy to hear he’d been right about her doing that. He remembered she’d even used to help him cook for his mother. Neither of them were the best cooks then, but they tried. Even though his mother wouldn’t eat very much, either. It had just been fun to be together in the kitchen.

Anthony sat back in the chair, giving her father an up-and-down look. “What can I do for you guys?”

Her father relaxed back, taking the shotgun and putting it over his lap. “Nothin’.” Then he hesitated, giving Anthony the old eagle-eye look he remembered well from being young and dating Cass. “Why don’t you tell me why you wanted my daughter on this exclusive?”

Anthony shifted in his seat. The old man had always had a sense about things. “What are you talking about?”

Flashing a grin, her father winked at him. “Had a visit from your dad yesterday during my treatment.”

“What?” This took him off guard, but didn’t surprise him. Of course his father would be sticking his nose in it.

“Your daddy’s been visiting me every week during the radiation treatments at the hospital.” He sighed and his eyes misted. “He’s a good friend of mine.”

Anthony was taken off guard to hear how good of friends they still were.

“Your daddy’s always been intense, but I will say he takes good care of his family … and his friends.”

A nervous shiver washed over him, and he knew there was something he wasn’t being told.

Harrison cleared his throat. “He told me you wanted her on this exclusive.”

“She’s good.” He countered.

Briefly, her father looked him up and down, then nodded. “Just be good to her, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir,” he said quickly.

Cassidy opened the screen door. She wore a yellow sundress with flip-flops. Her long honey-blonde hair was in a ponytail on her head. She was just so breathtaking.

She looked between them. “Daddy, are you giving Anthony a hard time?”

He grinned at his daughter and stood. “Nope. Just finding out what he brought us. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

A smile played at her lips. “You’re hungry? That’s good news.” Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at Anthony, then pushed the door wider. “I like to hear that you’re hungry.”

After an hour of polite chatter and eating with her father, Anthony helped her clean up dinner, which she kept insisting that he didn’t have to do.

“Since you’re here, can I ask you some questions?” she asked as she rinsed the washrag and hung it lightly on the bar by the sink.

“You bet.” Anthony didn’t care how; he just wanted to spend time with her. “Should we take a ride?”

Looking sharply at him, she glared. “You’re just here to use me for my horses, Boss?”

Dang if he didn’t feel young again. “You gonna give me the slow one? You always did, it’s the only way you ever beat me.” He thought of the thousands of times they’d raced.

She smiled and nodded to the back door. “Let me change and I’ll meet you out there. Go ahead and saddle up Sunshine and Biscuit if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Don’t mind.” Excitement pulsed inside of him. It’d been a long time since he’d ridden. He thought that his trainers and Mr. Knight probably wouldn’t be happy that he was going riding, not with how rusty he was, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t one of the risky activities listed in his contract.

Anthony went for the barn and found her father already there, getting them saddled up. “But …”

“I saw those city slicker boots and flannel shirt on you and I knew you wanted to ride my ponies.”

Anthony grinned at the old man. Even with all the treatments, he still looked pretty good. “What can I do to help?”

“I’m almost done. Here, pull this strap and tighten her down. Did she tell you to saddle Sunshine and Biscuit?”

He moved and did what he was told. “Yep.”

Her father gestured to the horse. “Biscuit here won the Kentucky Derby five years ago,” he said, patting her leg, “but then she got injured. So the owner sold him back to me for pennies on the dollar what I sold him in the first place. Now he is as good as new.” He let out a chuckle. “I’m kind of fond of him, so I’m keeping him. That just goes to show you it doesn’t matter what injury you have; you can always come back.”

Anthony grinned. “I agree.”

“Doesn’t matter if you have cancer. You can always have a second chance.”

“It’s good to hear you talk like that, sir.” Anthony patted down Biscuit, letting him smell him and checking the saddle strength. Was this a second chance? In his career? With Cass?

Cassidy appeared, wearing Wranglers, riding boots, a flannel shirt, and a worn cowgirl hat.

He couldn’t help but think she’d always looked so good in Wranglers.

She grinned at both of them. “You guys are fast.”

“Go on, now, don’t keep the horses waiting,” her father said.

Without preamble, they got on the horses and then she was off, quick. Anthony laughed, as it reminded him of all the times he’d ridden with her. She’d always been in a hurry.

For a couple of minutes they raced and he loved the feel of Biscuit, who was clearly an attuned racehorse. Biscuit kept up with Sunshine and even kicked in gear when Anthony gave him a bit of a kick in the ribs, going way ahead of her.

“Show-off!” she yelled out.

He laughed. The sun was going down and the sky looked beautiful, a shade of pink and red and yellow in the sky. It was the best. He waited.

When she caught up, she looked out across the land and the sky.

“I haven’t ridden in a long time,” he said, thinking that he really hadn’t ridden for years. Of course, his dad still had horses, but he honestly couldn’t remember the last time. Maybe on a break in college.

“I hadn’t ridden in a couple of years until I came back,” she said.

He wanted to ask so many questions. “So how long has your dad been back?”

“Two years. I told him I’d never come back to Dallas.” She scoffed. “Never say never, right?”

There were so many things he wanted to tell her. Before he could settle on what to say first, she turned and said, “Spill it, Anthony. You always wax poetic at times when we’re on horses and watching the sunset. You always have.”

“Whatever, Poe.” He couldn’t deny he liked the fact she did want to know him. Had known him. He didn’t think anyone knew him as well as her, except maybe his dad and Kade, but no other woman.

“Who was she?”

“W-what?”

“I’ve seen articles about your playboy ways and I could list a couple of women you had relationships with. Who was the one you were thinking of?”

Without hesitating, he said, “I was thinking of you.”

Their eyes locked and held again.

He shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, I didn’t ride with any of the women I dated.”

She looked suspicious. “Really?”

“Did you ever ride with Kyle?” He hated himself for wondering.

Softly, she said, “No, I guess I didn’t.”

He wanted to know more. “Really?”

She shook her head and glanced away. “You don’t have to be jealous of Kyle. He’s gone.” Her tone was quiet. “Plus, I’m interviewing you. This isn’t anything else, so let’s get back to that.”

It didn’t sit well with him that she kept insisting what was between them was nothing, but he didn’t want to press her. “Fine, will you just tell me a little more about you, first?”

She sighed. “What?”

He pulled out his phone and started the timer. “Like for five, maybe ten minutes.”

“You’re timing me?”

“This is what we do. Drills. This is a drill, Stone. Go.”

She laughed.

“Go!”

She looked nervous. “What should I say?”

“Talk about Kyle.”

“No.”

“Please.” He waited. “Then I’ll answer all your questions.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I told you, Kyle and I met when I was doing an article about military elite.”

“Right.”

“He asked me out when I was done with the interview.” She shrugged and looked like she’d gone somewhere else in her mind. “He asked me to go surfing.”

“Surfing? You?” he quipped.

She came back to him. “Hey, I can surf.”

He grinned.

“I can.” She pushed him and acted defensive.

He gave her a skeptical look, and she laughed. She’d always said she wasn’t coordinated, but he thought she could do anything.

He grinned, loving her spunkiness.

“Anyway, so we went surfing and then dinner and then he continued to give me lessons.”

“Then maybe I don’t want lessons.” He said quietly.

She grinned. “I could totally give you lessons.”

He laughed.

She nodded. “He was a good guy.”

“Sounds like it.” Anthony agreed.

He looked at his timer. “Still got seven minutes. More details.”

“Fine. Um. He was tall, blond.”

“Hmm.” He couldn’t stop himself from feeling jealous.

She grinned. “Not as tall as you. Not the dark, good looks.”

“He was mysterious,” he said playfully.

She shook her head. “No, more Barbie soldier–ish.”

“Another Zeus, perfect.”

“No, not another Zeus,” she said in a patronizing tone.

He pointed at her. “Five minutes.”

“Fine, he liked to go shooting. He had a dog, who is now with his brother. He was the first guy to really get to know me in a long, long time.”

Anthony wanted to say that was not a good enough reason to get married to someone, but he didn’t.

“And he … I don’t know, we would take long walks on the beach and just talk about his life. About life in the military. I knew he’d be called up again. However, I wasn’t expecting him to ask me to marry him.”

“Oh.” This took him by surprise. “Continue.”

“We had planned for when he got out. We would settle in the suburbs, have some kids, the dog,” she said wistfully.

More jealously wove through him, because suddenly he wanted those kids more than anything. It was fierce, like he could taste the touchdown and was charging the field. Yes, he wanted those kids in the suburbs and the dog.

“Anthony?”

He jerked out of his fantasy, then looked at his phone. “Three, two, one.”

The timer went off.

With a laugh, she took his phone and started the timer. “Your turn. Talk,” she ordered.

“Hey!”

“I haven’t been a very efficient interviewer of you and your life, so let’s do the drill for you, too. I like it.” She set it to ten minutes. “I’m taking your ideas, Kincaid. Be flattered.”

Anthony felt put on the spot, but let out a light laugh. “Okay.”

She got formal. “Mr. Kincaid, please tell me about your serious relationships. Anyone you were engaged to?”

“No,” he said quickly. “The only one who I might have was Sheena Turner,” he admitted.

“Right, yes, the quarterback-eating woman. She could be an elite athlete.” She smiled.

“Yes, she could.” He sighed. “I dated, have dated my fair share of others, as you know.”

Giving him a pointed look, she coughed. “Yeah.”

He didn’t like the look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing.” She turned innocent. “Maybe more than your fair share, huh?”

He squirmed, no longer wanting to talk about it. “I’m not doing this.”

She acted like the phone was a microphone. “The women of Dallas want to know about Anthony Kincaid, star quarterback.”

“Second-string quarterback,” he corrected.

“Star,” she said severely. “You never know when you’ll be called up.”

He shrugged. “Not likely.”

She pointed at him. “It could happen. And then, bam! You’ve got your second chance. It could happen.”

Truthfully, he longed for it. Sure, it made him nervous, too. “This year is for Kade. It’s his year to shine.”

She grinned at him. “Second-chance quarterback. Has a nice ring to it, maybe the title of the article.”

“I don’t know about that.” He wanted to talk about a different kind of second chance. “You believe in second chances, Ms. Stone?”

Looking taken off guard, she narrowed her eyes. “This is your interview.”

He decided to be blatant. “I believe in second chances in a lot of things. Like a girl I once dated.”

She rolled her eyes and he loved watching her blush. “O-kay.” She shook her head. “What does Anthony Kincaid want in a woman?”

He decided to play her game. “Climbing Mt. Everest would be nice.”

“What?”

“If they have climbed Mt. Everest, that’d be nice. I mean, it shows ambition, right? Determination.”

She grinned. “It shows you might like big thighs.”

He sputtered out a laugh. “Can’t forget that’s important.”

“What else?”

He sighed. “Well, warmth.”

“Warmth as in redheads?”

“No.” He scowled at her, his eyes roving across her blonde hair. He thought of his mother. “She likes to dance. She likes to laugh. She sees the good in life, even when curveballs get thrown at her.”

The moment went slow and sticky and her eyes misted again. “Your mom was an amazing woman.”

Emotion surged inside of his chest. “Yeah, she was.” He cleared his throat. “But that’s not who I’m talking about.”

Once again, she blushed.

He continued. “She helps others. She …” He thought of her. “She’s wicked smart and even kind of annoying sometimes because she thinks she knows everything.”

“Know-it-all. Check.” She looked at the phone. “Five minutes, Kincaid, keep going.”

“Umm …”

“You don’t care if she has three eyes.”

“Nope.”

“Just as long as she’s a good person.”

“Yep.”

“Five hundred pounds works?”

He glared at her. “You know this is a loaded question. I will get raked over the coals.”

“C’mon, pansy. What do you want physically in a woman?” she pressed.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “Angelic soft, unguarded eyes when she is curious. A dimple in her left cheek. Straight, long honey-blonde hair and a yoga body.” He winked at her.

Their eyes held and she shook her head, smiling. He liked it. More than he should. More than he knew she wanted him to.

She looked at the phone. “Three, two, one.” She handed it back.

He grabbed it and closed his hand on hers. “That was a good session.” All he wanted to do was tug her closer and kiss her. The air was thick with chemistry.

Pulling her hand back, she turned and took off toward the house. “Race ya back!”