Page 17 of Game On

Escaping her office early, she’d sought solace in a Pilates class at her health club. She’d been looking forward to an evening of kicking back with a glass of wine and binge-watching Game of Thrones. Instead, she was staring into the hooded, dark brown eyes of Joel Tompkins.

When she’d first met him, Joel had reminded her of a puppy. Eager and affectionate. Lately, however, he was becoming more persistent and clingy. More . . . menacing. He took the plastic grocery bag from her hand.

“I’ve got it,” Carly said, pulling the bag back from him. Her gut was telling her not to give him any excuse to come inside her home.

“I insist.” He pulled back, nearly tearing the plastic bag. A nervous laugh escaped as she envisioned the grocery bag exploding and her jumbo box of tampons flying across the lawn. The lopsided grin he offered her in return made her shiver. Were his teeth always that big? Crap, now she was imagining him as a wolf, not a puppy. She nearly shrieked with hysteria at the low growl that seemed to be conjured up by her thoughts. The growl caught Joel off guard as well; he loosened his grip on the grocery bag and she quickly pulled it to her chest before it ripped completely.

“Is there a problem here, Carly?”

She looked up to see Donovan Carter standing, hands on hips, next to her open car trunk. A large brown Labrador retriever was insinuating itself between her and Joel, letting out another low growl as it sat possessively on Carly’s feet. Joel looked from the dog to Donovan. A brief scowl covered Joel’s face, but he quickly hid it.

“No problem here, dude. I’m just helping the lady with her groceries.” He looked down at the dog. “Your dog’s got a bit of an attitude, though.”

“The dog’s mine.”

Carly’s head whipped around to see Shane standing on her other side, his arms folded across his chest, hands tucked under his arms. Looking more menacing than Joel ever could. She glanced down at the panting dog now lying across her sneakered feet. The dog thumped its tail as its eyes darted from her to Shane. Joel moved to grab the grocery bag again and the dog immediately came to attention, its growl fiercer than before. Taking a step back, Joel looked at the animal as if he might kick it.

“Hack journalism must not be paying well these days, Tompkins.” Donovan stepped between Joel and the dog. “Now you’re working as a bag boy?”

“I was in the neighborhood. We’re friends, so back off, man.” Joel was becoming increasingly defensive. It didn’t help that Donovan now stood inches from his face. Carly thought she really should step in and defend Joel. He worked for the local television station, after all, and she didn’t want any bad publicity for the team.

“That right, Carly? You two friends?” Donovan asked, his eyes never leaving Joel’s face.

Joel had become a pest. Maybe Asia was right: The only way to get rid of the guy was to be a little mean.

“No.” Her voice shook a little. “Joel, we work in the same place. We are friendly to one another, but that’s it. It really wouldn’t be professional for us to have any other type of relationship. I’m sorry.”

Jeez, she felt like a hypocrite. Not more than a week ago, her hands had been all over Shane Devlin, and he was one of the team’s players! And two of the three men standing there knew it. She didn’t dare turn around and look at Shane.

“You hear that, Tompkins? The lady doesn’t need any help.” Donovan backed Joel toward his car. Joel’s face briefly clouded with anger. But, as before, he quickly masked it. When he looked up, he had become the over eager puppy dog again.

“Sure. Whatever. You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He smiled at Donovan as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. “She is pretty hot,” he said with a wink as he slid into his car and started the ignition.

“Thank goodness.” Carly let out a relieved breath as she absentmindedly stroked the broad head of the dog.

Donovan turned to face her as Joel drove off, the bass of the car’s stereo thumping down the street.

“I don’t trust that guy. I’m going to jog out to the guard house and make sure he leaves. I also want to know how he got in here.” Donovan looked past Carly to speak to Shane. “I’ll be back in five.”

As he jogged off, Carly tried not to think about being left alone with Shane. He’d been remarkably quiet during the exchange with Joel. It didn’t seem to be in his personality to resist an opportunity to strut his testosterone. She wondered if he was saving it up for her.

Stop thinking like that!

In the week since their encounter in her office, she had done some serious introspection. This thing between the two of them couldn’t continue. Shane Devlin wasn’t her type. Sure, he was dark, brooding, and sexy as hell, but he wasn’t the type to stick around. And Carly had a lifetime of men who didn’t stick around. She wanted more than that. She wanted happily ever after, the kind that was quiet and out of the public eye. Shane Devlin was not happily ever after material. She’d just gently but firmly let down Joel Tompkins—and he hadn’t gone postal on her. Now it was time to set things straight with the team’s new quarterback.

Carly looked up from her musing, still absently stroking the dog’s head, only to find the object of her thoughts had silently lifted the remaining grocery bags from her trunk and was striding toward the front door of her row house. She let out a frustrated huff. Just moments ago, her instincts were telling her not to let Joel Tompkins in her house. Those same instincts were remarkably quiet right now. Alarm bells should be going off, but her mind was silent as she watched a pair of muscled thighs and a tight butt—perfectly displayed in running shorts—disappear through the door. The dog rose and trotted after its master. At the steps, it paused to turn its chocolate eyes to her.

She swore the dog was asking her if she was coming.

“Oh, all right,” she muttered as she slammed the trunk closed, following man and beast inside. This conversation would be a lot easier if it didn’t take place in her house.

Shane had already placed the grocery bags on the counter of the kitchen by the time she and the dog arrived. He stood silently, giving the room the once-over, and she suddenly became conscious of how small her kitchen was. His presence seemed to stretch the limits of the room. He’d been running, and she could see the sweat staining his shirt. His scent should have been offensive, but instead he smelled . . . good. Like a man. All man. As his scent permeated her nostrils, she could almost taste him. She had to swallow as she remembered the taste of his skin beneath her lips. Heat pooled low in her belly. Quickly, she turned away from him to regain her composure. Trying to distract herself, she reached up into the cabinet and pulled down an empty, plastic whipped topping container from a stack of twenty or so. Great, now he knows I’m addicted to whipped cream. Filling the makeshift bowl with water, she set it on the tile floor. The dog paused in its perusal of the baseboards beneath the breakfast stools to drink. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the dog lapping up water.

“Look, Carly.” Shane hadn’t moved any closer, but his voice seemed to caress her. “Donnie will be back any minute and we need to clear something up.”

Carly turned to face him. She leaned a hip on the counter and raised her chin up a notch, waiting.

“About the other day in your office,” he began.

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