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  “Yes, you are,” she agreed.

  For a very brief moment, sorrow for everything he’d lost swept over her. Then their fingers touched as she handed him the mug and high-voltage electricity shot through her. Joe’s gaze dropped to her tank top where she was sure her traitorous nipples poked back at him. At least if the flare of heat in his eyes was any indication.

  So much for wiping last night out of her mind. She wanted him, plain and simple. All these years she’d wondered what an erotic touch from him would feel like. Now she knew and she wanted more. He was like addictive chocolate—one bite and you wanted it all. Maybe she should look at this differently. What would it hurt if she indulged herself? Gave in to temptation? She could get him out of her system once and for all.

  But not until she was sure she had her act together.

  And had her heart well protected.

  Maybe.

  Shay took a step back, picked up her own mug, and started toward her bedroom.

  “Shay.”

  She stopped, still facing away from him. “What?”

  “About last night.” Uncertainty tinged his voice, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to bring it up or not.

  “Forget it.” No, she wasn’t ready to talk about it now. Not until she was sure she had full control of herself. “You got carried away. I understand. No explanations necessary.” She paused. “You probably thought I was someone else, anyway.” She took a step forward again.

  “Shay!” This time the word was almost a shout. “Damn it, take a minute and listen to me.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me. We’ll just forget it ever happened.” If she didn’t get out of the room soon, she might say something she’d regret. Like let’s do it again. And she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. “That’s what you were going to tell me, right?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  Was that desperation in his voice? Maybe he thought she had expectations now. She could certainly disabuse him of that in a hurry.

  “It’s okay, Joe. Listen, enjoy your coffee and have a good run.”

  Speaking of running, she almost ran to her bedroom, holding her mug so no liquid sloshed over the rim. She closed her door and leaned against it, hoping he didn’t follow her. Her pulse was racing, and she had trouble catching her breath.

  Think, think, think.

  What if she did this, gave in to all her urges? If he wanted to have sex with her again she’d go for it, making it very clear he was under no emotional obligation. She was a big girl. The thought of finally being completely naked with Joe and having wild, uninhibited sex was way too tempting.

  She could do this, especially if she could manage to control the situation.

  She waited, listening for any sounds in the hallway. The soft tap on the door sounded as loud as a thunderclap.

  “Shay? Come out here and talk to me. I owe you a huge apology.”

  Oh, great, an apology. The kiss of death. He was going to apologize for forgetting who she was and thinking she was one of his hot numbers, just when she’d made up her mind to go for it.

  “It’s okay. Please just go for your run. And don’t knock again. I’m heading for the shower.”

  Which she did, closing the door loudly enough that he could hear it in the hallway. She turned on the shower full force, then sat on the closed lid of the toilet and took a swallow of her coffee. She didn’t need his apology or his pity, if that’s what he was offering. She took another swallow of coffee, easing the lump in her throat. Finally, convinced he’d left the house, she stripped off her shorts, and top and stepped under the hot water. Maybe, if she stood there long enough, she could wash away the memory of his touch.

  * * * *

  Joe enjoyed running whenever he got the chance. People always focused on a quarterback’s arm, not realizing strengthening his legs was just as important. A big part of the precision and timing of a throw depended on leg action. After the surgery, he’d forced himself to start again as soon as he got the all clear. Even though his playing days were over, he maintained the routine. He’d discovered when he ran for pleasure it felt very, very good.

  There was a small park about three blocks from Hank’s house, which he headed toward. He set off at an easy lope, enjoying the freshness of the morning air. Stopping when he reached the start of the jogging trail, he took a minute as he was doing his stretches to check on Gina. He’d transferred the money as he promised Lisa, but he wanted to make sure she used it for the right purpose.

  She answered right away.

  “Hi, Joe. I got the money. Thanks so much.” Her voice sounded a little strained, or was that his imagination?

  “Everything okay?”

  “Sure, sure, sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  He leaned against a thick oak tree. “You took her shopping, right?”

  “I did. And to a salon to get her hair styled and a manicure.”

  “When’s the interview?”

  “Tomorrow. In the afternoon.”

  Did Lisa sound a little hesitant or reserved?

  “Fine. I want you to text me afterward and let me know the results. And Lisa?”

  “Yes?”

  He closed his eyes and let out a breath. “This is going to have to be the end. You hear me?”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” He shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “Seven years is a long time to carry her. Now she’s got to carry herself. Make it happen.”

  He disconnected before she could say anything else and zipped the phone into his pocket. It was past time to be done with this. With the impression of him Shay had built up over the years, God only knew what wild things she’d imagine if she found out he’d been giving Gina money all this time. It was suddenly important to him what Shay thought of him. How she saw him. What her opinion was.

  By the time he hit the jogging path, his muscles were warmed up and he could set a steady clip. This morning, in addition to sticking to his routine, he wanted to work the restless energy out of his system. And his unsatisfied sexual urges.

  What the fuck had he been thinking last night, anyway? One minute they’d been sitting there watching a program about fucking Joe Montana. The next he’d had his mouth on hers and his hands everywhere on her body. This was Shay, for crap’s sake. Little Shay. Only she wasn’t so little anymore. She was a warm, desirable woman. One touch of her mouth, one taste of her, and she completely blew his mind. Where did this hot, sexy female come from, anyway?

  Hank was going to kill him.

  Yeah? Then he should have been smart enough not to leave the two of them alone in that house. He’d studied biology. He knew all about how sex worked.

  Now what the fuck did he do? He not only didn’t regret what happened, he also wanted to do it again. And more. Lots more. He wanted to strip them both naked and watch his cock slide into her sweet, delectable pussy. Feel her clamp those hot muscles around him, the ones that singed his fingers last night. The problem was figuring out what she wanted and what last night meant to her.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  He pounded along the path, his body on automatic pilot, as every single moment of the previous evening replayed itself in his mind. By the time he slowed and began his cool-down, his cock was hard enough to use for a tree trunk and his balls ached like a sonofabitch. When at last he dropped onto a park bench and leaned his head back, he was thoroughly confused and thoroughly aroused.

  Two things stuck out like the trip wires they were—Shay Beckham had grown up to be a very hot, very enticing, very sensuous female despite her girl-next-door appearance, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. Wanted? Wait, that wasn’t even half of it. The little seed of something planted inside him last night when he laid eyes on her now burst into full bloom through his body.

  He was fucking in love with Shay Beckham! Holy shit! In love? Where the hell had that come from? People didn’t fall in love this fast,
did they? Did you fall in love with someone in less than the blink of an eye?

  But Shay was no stranger to him. Truth be told, she’d been on his mind for a very long time. Had this been growing inside him since that brief episode in New York or maybe even before that, even while he’d been so busy living the high life?

  Jesus! In love with Shay, a woman who pushed all his buttons the right way?

  His entire body felt as if a thunderbolt had speared through it, delivering the shocking realization that he was in love with Shay Beckham.

  Yes, you ass. All this time you’ve just been too stupid to realize it.

  Until now. Until they’d been thrown together in a situation where the attraction had exploded and consumed him. He’d had just a taste of her and now he wanted all of it. Everything. And not just for the here and now.

  God. He could hardly wrap his mind around it.

  He certainly had a lot to overcome with her. All those years he’d dissed her as Hank’s pesky kid sister. The overload of women he’d drowned himself in. The reputation the tabloids had hung on him. He needed to change her image of him and at the same time make her realize things were different now.

  Oh, yeah, sure, jerkoff. Because she doesn’t have her defenses up, right? Taking on a Super Bowl championship team with a broken arm would be a lot easier. First he had to get past whatever she was feeling about last night.

  For him it had been an awakening. Had it hit her the same way? That’s what he’d wanted to tell her, ask her, this morning before she shut him down, avoided the subject completely. Did she regret what happened? Was she ashamed of it? Somehow he had to get her mind turned around about it because he wanted more. With her.

  He needed to breach her defenses because his desire for the grown-up Shay had exploded into a living, breathing thing. This was a whole lot more than sex. He wanted all of her, the whole package. Forever.

  If he was going to move forward here, he needed a plan. This was no different than quarterbacking a game. Register the pitfalls presented by the other team, set the objectives and put the field plan together. He could do that, right?

  Then he would get her to change the way she looked at him. The person she thought he was. He hoped. Show her she wasn’t just another addition to a long list she seemed to think he kept. He just needed to get her to listen to him.

  Slow, he told himself. Just take everything real slow.

  Okay. Now he knew what he had to do, but business first.

  He mentally ran over his agenda for this trip. He’d be speaking to a couple of the coaches groups Scott had set up as part of his Coaches Conference. He was also meeting with the committee planning a big fundraiser for scholarships for athletes. He’d agreed to make an appearance at the event and use his connections to solicit sponsors and merchandise. Because it was close to his hometown and because football had been very good to him financially, he agreed to match all the funds raised from other sources. Keeping this out of the media until the last minute was the only promise he’d extracted from them.

  That was the one thing he and Scott continued to disagree on—using his Coaches Conference program, his speeches, and his fundraising for publicity purposes. He didn’t mind personally soliciting people for contributions for worthy causes, or speaking to coaching staffs of varied sizes. As he changed the flow of his life, however, it occurred to him discussing his charity work would seem too much like puffing himself up. Telling people how wonderful he was for doing these things.

  “We’ve been over this a bunch of times, Scott.” The agent’s words had irritated him. “You’re the one who told me I was too much of a publicity hound, remember?”

  “I do. But that was more your life-of-the-party image. This is good stuff, Joe. People need to know about it. To see who you’ve become. Which is a damn fine person.”

  “I’m the same person I always was,” he’d snapped. “Just older and wiser. And I don’t want to look like I’m buying a new image with money and good deeds. Doing this for a less than stellar purpose.”

  “Joe,” the agent had begun.

  “Isn’t it enough the gossip hounds aren’t after me anymore? That I’m off the gossip pages,” he’d pointed out. “That alone should make you happy. And I think it’s time to keep my private life just that. Very private. If I can tap into my connections to help people, I’m more than happy to do it. But I won’t use any of them to, as you say, polish up my image. I’d feel cheap doing it.”

  “That’s very noble of you,” Scott had told him, “but hiding your good works won’t get people to take you seriously. You cut a pretty wide path through the female population for a long time, sport. Your bosses at Fox Sports One would love to see you settled down.”

  “How about if I just promise to keep my social life out of the media? If people want to quietly discuss my other activities, okay, fine. No big publicity campaign, though. I mean it.”

  “Wow!” Scott had grinned. “A conscience. My baby boy is growing up.”

  This afternoon he would be meeting with the people putting on the fundraiser for athletic scholarships. The past few weeks he’d wrangled major commitments from former teammates and some of the Fox Sports One guys. He had Scott working his current sponsors and he even got commitments from a couple of his former backers. He felt good about not just reaching but surpassing the goal, especially with what he planned to contribute himself.

  He gave a brief thought to telling Shay where he was going today but changed his mind immediately. Better to wait for the right moment, when things with the two of them were on a different footing. Between her firmly etched opinion of him and last night’s grope-a-thon, she’d just think he was blowing smoke to make himself look better. If he told her about his meeting today, just dumped all of it on her like that, she probably would. Cleaning up his image with her would take some work.

  Instead he’d casually ask her if she was going to be home tonight. Tell her he had some game videos to review for his show—no lie, he actually did—and would she like to watch with him. Yeah, low-key it like that and hope she didn’t have plans.

  If she was home when he stopped to change, he’d put on his friendliest face, not mention last night and see if he could at least get them on friendly footing. Yeah, okay. Good plan. Friends first. Then they could ease into the rest of it when she began to trust him. Which she obviously didn’t at the moment. He wanted to tell her how much he’d changed, how different his life was now, but he knew it would take a lot to convince her. He’d just have to set the stage.

  On his way home after his meetings, he’d pick up Chinese food for dinner. Then he’d find the place that made those cookies she liked so much. They used to get them from a bakery in Granite Falls, a branch of the one in San Antonio. That should buy him some brownie points. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and looked up the San Antonio address. Right on his way home. Perfect.

  Cookies. And maybe ice cream. They could watch the videos together.

  He hoped.

  He also hoped when Hank found out he didn’t cut off his balls.

  As if conjured up by magic, his phone chimed and he saw a text from Hank.

  “Settled in? Everything okay?”

  Joe blew out a breath.

  “Fine. Thx. All good.”

  Yeah, right. Everything was just peachy keen.

  * * * *

  Normally, the day after she returned from one of her New York trips Shay hung around the house in slop clothes, read, and watched sports to decompress before going back to her current project, or starting a new one. A minimalist where makeup was concerned to begin with, on those days she never even swiped a lipstick over her mouth. She’d put her hair, usually still damp from the shower, up in a messy ponytail and pull on a very old Granite Falls Coyotes T-shirt with a faded pair of jeans shorts. Until she got a good read on where this thing with Joe was going, she didn’t want him to think she dressed in any way for him, so she stuck to her routine.

  And wha
t exactly was this thing? Maybe it was just once and done for him. Maybe he’d decided to satisfy her craving for him. God, she couldn’t stand it if that’s all it was. Then she really would have to kick him out of the house.

  But what if he wanted more? What if he wanted…everything. Full-blown, all-out sex?

  She told herself to quit overthinking it. So she’d had almost sex with her childhood hero. They were both adults now. Things were different. Hadn’t she decided she’d just take it for what it was, enjoy the ride while it lasted, and walk away with her pride intact? Anyway, he probably wouldn’t be around all the time. Not Joe the ladies’ man.

  Passing the mirror in her bedroom, she got a glimpse of herself. Yeah, she looked like a first-class slob all right. Certainly a far cry from the glamorous females Joe was used to. Besides, he’d probably get back from his run, shower, and head out to hook up with whatever women were waiting for him.

  Images from last night kept playing over and over in her mind and she couldn’t quell the little thrill of expectation wriggling through her when she heard his car pull up in the driveway. She did her best to focus instead on the glass of orange juice she’d poured. Maybe its icy coldness would smother the heat building inside her.

  “Hey, Shay.”

  The gravelly voice made her lady parts stand up and take notice, especially the inner walls of her pussy that contracted at the memory of his touch.

  “Um, hey, Joe.” She didn’t need the sound of his footsteps to tell her he’d come into the kitchen. Her body had an uncanny ability to sense his presence. “Have a good run?”

  “Yeah. I like the little park near here. Not too crowded. Nice and pleasant. So, uh, listen.”

  “Yeah?” Okay, here it came. The excuses. The apology. She wanted to tell him just to keep his thoughts to himself and then run into her room.

  “I have a couple of meetings this afternoon….”

  Was that a euphemism for hooking up? Okay, she could handle that.

  “Have a nice time.” She sipped at the orange juice.

  “Anyway, I thought if you didn’t have any plans for tonight, I’ve got some DVDs of games I need to watch before my show starts up again. I know you like football. It isn’t Montana, but I’d like it if you’d watch them with me. Get your opinion on some things. If you want to, that is.”