Stone

Don’t ask me what it is about Savannah that makes me want to run off at the mouth, because I couldn’t tell you. Perhaps it’s the way her eyes light up whenever I say something. Or maybe it’s the genuine interest I can see on her face. Whatever it is, I can’t seem to stop.

“So, back to my original question,” Savannah says after sipping her juice. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Here,” I admit. “Well, not right here. Irving, to be precise.”

“So, not far from the practice facility,” she says.

I nod. “My mother’s still there, still living in the house I grew up in. The first thing my brother did when he got his first signing bonus was pay it off for her.”

“And what did you do with your first signing bonus?”

“I had a pool installed for her.”

I like the way her smile widens.

“She loves that place and we knew she’d balk if we ever offered to buy her a new house. So, we’ve had to be discreet in our efforts to give her what she deserves.”

Savannah’s eyes warm and the effect it has on me is something I can’t explain.

“And you went to the University of Alabama?”

“Football scholarship. Couldn’t pass it up.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” The way her green eyes lock on my face has my palms starting to sweat. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time a woman made me nervous.

“Was it just you, your brother, and your mom?”

I nod. “My father left when I was two. She divorced him and sold the house. Took the money and bought a smaller house, one she could easily afford on her own.”

I can tell she’s waiting for me to elaborate. Generally, I don’t verbally vomit up my life story, but, like I said, I can’t seem to stop.

“My father was a long-haul truck driver. Met a woman while he was out on the road. Left us for her and moved to Ohio. We didn’t see him but maybe twice after that. He got married, had a few kids with her. From what I heard, he left her a few years ago for another woman.”

“Asshole,” Savannah mutters, shuddering. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“No worries. You won’t get any arguments from me.” I take a sip of juice, swallow. “And you? I’ve met your father and brothers. Is your mother in the picture?”

Although Aaron Andrews is in the public eye, I know he’s done a good job of keeping his family details on the down low. After all, I knew plenty about the man, but I never realized he even had a daughter.

Savannah shakes her head. “Not really, no. She pops in from time to time. She left when I was seven, said her modeling career was on the verge of expiring. Didn’t have time to sit at home with children and a husband.”

I lean forward. “Do modeling careers expire?”

She smiles and it’s so sweet, I have to sit up straight. “Hers did long before then, but she was the only one who didn’t realize it.”

“And your father never remarried?”

“Nope. He says he’s married to the team and that’s enough for him.”

“Another reason marriage licenses should come with warning labels,” I joke, recalling our conversation from the other night.

“Oh, I still believe in love. One day, I’ll find the man of my dreams, settle down in a house with a white picket fence, get a dog, maybe have a couple of kids.”

“Really?” That is not the impression I got from our conversation at her father’s party.

She laughs this time, a robust sound that goes straight to my dick. I love when she laughs like that. Guttural and genuine, not to mention, sexy as all get-out.

“Not on your life. I’m all for bein’ single. Especially right now. With my career in full swing, I have no time for dating or any of the nonsense that comes with a relationship.”

“Who’s the jaded one now?”

Her grin widens. “Touché.” She moves her silverware around on the table. “So, tell me. Is there a reason you’re looking to retire next year?”

I shrug.

I knew at some point this was going to turn to business. It is the reason we’re here, I suppose.

“Right now, I’m focused on this year. I don’t know what’s in store for me next year.”

Her eyebrows lift and it appears she wants to say something, but her lips flatten and she nods.

I swipe my finger down the orange juice glass. “Tell me this. Do you know what’s on your agenda for next year?”

Her eyes remain steady on mine. “No.”

“Well, then you know exactly where I’m at right now. I’m thinking no farther than the meal that’s about to be delivered. After that, I’ll probably concern myself with the team meeting, then some time with my trainer. I don’t want to look any further out than that, to be honest.”

Savannah chuckles. “Point taken.”

The server chooses that moment to deliver our food, so I sit back while he sets the plates down.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

I glance at Savannah. She shakes her head.

“No, I think we’re good right now. Thanks.”

“Sure. I’ll be back shortly.”

Savannah motions toward my food with her fork. “You’re really gonna eat all that?”

“Absolutely. And I’ll likely eat in another couple of hours, too.”

“I take it that’s a big deal for you.”

“Let’s just say, I’ve learned over time that I have to eat consistently to stay in shape. The older I get, the harder it is to do though.”

Another chuckle escapes her. “Thirty-four isn’t old.”

“Maybe not, but playing football turns human years into dog years. Seven for every one. At least that’s how my body feels most of the time.”

Her eyes are bright and she’s smiling.

“What does a normal day’s menu consist of?”

“As much protein as possible.”

“No fast food?”

I groan. “Since fast food is far cheaper to eat than healthy food, we ate it a lot when I was growing up. And yes, I ate more than my fair share. To the point, I’ll avoid it at all costs now.”

“I’m not a fan either,” she says. “But my nephew…Boy, he’s all about McDonald’s right now.”

I smile. “My niece isn’t quite to an age where solid food is even a possibility, but I’m sure she’ll be singing their praises at some point, too.”

For a few minutes, we eat in silence. The sounds of people chattering around us isn’t enough to distract me from watching her though.

She catches me and reaches for her napkin, dabbing her mouth. “Do I have jelly on my face?”

I shake my head. “Nah. I’m just admiring how much you seem to enjoy food.”

“I enjoy a lot of things,” she answers, her eyes meeting mine and holding long enough to have warmth fizzing in my veins.

I can tell right now, there’s a line between business and pleasure and there’s no way I’m going to spend any time with this woman without crossing it. Hell, I’m going to obliterate that line if at all possible.

“Do you have a problem talkin’ to kids?” The question is so far out of left field, it throws me. I have to think about that for a minute.

Before I can answer, she starts talking again.

“What I was thinkin’ is maybe we could get you to go back to your elementary school. Perhaps get you in front of a class of kids. Like during PE or something. You can talk about healthy choices, exercise, things like that.”

“Do you realize how long it’s been since I went to elementary school?”

“Are you saying you’re old?”

“Hell, no,” I say with a grin. Although yes, that is what I’m saying.

“I’m just thinking out loud,” she says. “Sorry. It’s what I do. When I find an opportunity, I can’t help but pursue it. And I get the feeling you’re really good with kids.” She holds up her fork, her eyes widening with what I assume is excitement. “What if I could get some kids to come to the field? They’d probably get a kick outta that.”

I nod. “Whatever you wanna do. You’re the PR guru. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Good. We’ll talk some more about it, see what we can come up with.” Savannah points her fork at me. “Oh, and before I forget, make sure I get your cellphone number before we leave. That way I can talk to you directly.”

“I already gave you my number,” I tell her, watching her face to see her reaction.

“I…uh…”

I grin. “You threw away my number?”

Why that makes me like her even more, I don’t know.

“I didn’t plan to call you.”

“No?” I lean forward. “Not even for a booty call?”

“Especially not for a booty call.”

I sit up, still smiling. “Fair enough. But what about now? Would you call me for a booty call now?”

Her eyebrows dart down. “Of course not.”

Well, that was better than a hell no.

My brain screams Score! but thankfully my mouth says, “So, maybe?”

“I was trying to be nice. What I meant to say was, not on your life.” The smile that follows says she’s not exactly serious.

As I fork more egg whites into my mouth, I can’t stop staring at Savannah. More importantly, I can’t help but wonder how I got so fucking lucky all of a sudden.

Whatever the reason, I hope like hell it’s not going to run out any time soon.

Savannah

After breakfast, I dropped Stone back off at the practice facility, then decided I’d take a half day. Not because I had anything specific I needed to take care of, but my father’s plan has thrown me into a bit of turmoil and I need some time to think this through.

Spending time with Stone made me feel incredibly guilty about this plan, and I’m not sure I can go through with it. I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything really wrong. It’s not like I’m going to develop a relationship with Stone or anything. I’m merely supposed to talk to him, see what his take is on his future. At least, that’s all I’ve promised my father and brother. If they want to pursue him for the future, that’s on them. I’m simply going to get a feel for what he’s looking to do beyond this year.

However, I’m not above making this mutually beneficial for the team as well as for Stone. It’s not often that I’ve got such a prominent, highly regarded player at my fingertips. The notion of getting some press coverage is not something I’m willing to let slip through my fingers. And as long as Stone is willing, who am I hurting?

I grab my MacBook and lift the lid, then pull up my Internet search browser.

I want to do this right. I want to make Stone shine like the incredible man that he is. And since this very well could be his last year on the field, I’m going to get him in front of as many people as I possibly can. In order to do that, I need to do some research, find out what he’s been saying and see if I can understand why.

Half an hour into my search, I find myself transfixed by the chat rooms I’ve found that are dedicated to talking solely about Jason Stone. I’m not sure if he even knows this, but he has an unofficial fan club. And it consists of thousands of fans, not only Wranglers fans, either. It seems he’s a hit in the fantasy football realm.

That’s a huge point in Stone’s favor and mine.

But, it’s not all positive. Then again, it never is. He could be a saint and there would always be someone who’s out to get him.

Looks as though my father and brother were right. Stone’s archnemesis is none other than Luke Devereaux, the lead correspondent for Sports Tonight.

I don’t know Mr. Devereaux personally, but I do know that he’s not well liked by many people in the league. He’s always looking to dig up dirt on players. I’m not even sure the guy knows a damn thing about the game, but that doesn’t seem to matter. He’s developed his own fan club with his unveiling of past and present players’ indiscretions.

As for why I’m feeling all protective of Stone, I’m not sure. But I am.

And though I’m reluctant to spend too much time with Stone—for selfish reasons only, because I happen to like him—I think my father might be onto something. Keeping Stone on the field is not only important to my father’s organization, but it’s important for the game of football. At thirty-four, Stone isn’t even close to needing to retire. Now, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a good reason for wanting to. However, I would like to know what that is.

What’s a girl to do?

I know for a fact that I do want to get him to do some publicity events. At the very least, it’ll keep assholes like Devereaux off his case for a little while.

Grabbing my phone, I pull up Stone’s contact information and tap the text message button. I lied when I told him I hadn’t kept his phone number. However, I think I did a good job of convincing him.

I shoot off a quick text.

Thinking more on it. If you’re cool with me pulling together a group of kids for a field trip to the stadium, I’d like to do that. Thought maybe I could get Snyder out there with you. You know, for entertainment value. Thoughts?

I hit the send button and stare at the screen, my mind working a million miles a minute as I come up with a plan to put this together. I know there are tons of elementary schools near the stadium that would likely jump at the opportunity for this type of field trip, but I also think that reaching out to the school Stone went to would be more personal.

His story still resonates with me, how he watched the neighborhood kids play while he wasn’t invited. I know that’s not unusual, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. All kids should be included.

Granted, I do have to take into account the team’s travel schedule. I know my father mentioned he wanted me to travel with them, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Then again, it would give me more time with Stone.

To work on a plan, that is.

My phone buzzes and I instantly zero in on the screen.

I’m at your mercy. In any way you want me.

God, this man…

I wonder if he knows how close I am to jumping him for the second time, given the first opportunity.

Wait.

No.

That’s not part of the plan.

In fact, that could be a bad idea. Considering what my father has asked me to do, if someone ever did find out, then it would look really bad on me. Like really bad.

Taking a deep breath, I tap out: Well, I’d like you bright eyed and bushy tailed for the event. Think you can manage that?

Damn it.

Why do I always do that? Taunting the guy is not what I intended to do.

Stone: As long as you’re there, I’ll be anything you want me to be.

Savannah: I’ll be right there by your side, so you can put your best smile on.

And I mean that. If Jason Stone is willing to go above and beyond to please the fans, I can certainly step out of my comfort zone and help him every step of the way.

I can only hope that I don’t end up falling for him in the process. Because we all know what happens when you mix business with pleasure. The outcome is never good.

My phone buzzes.

When you say right there…how close do you actually mean? Like close enough to touch? Will you be wearing that cheerleader outfit?

I find myself smiling.

Although I know I shouldn’t.