Page 62 of Game On

It took several minutes for their breathing to return to normal. Rolling onto his back, he gently tucked her into the crook of his arm. She was quiet, but he knew she wasn’t asleep yet. Her fingers glided over his chest, finally stopping over his heart.

“This was only supposed to be a one-night fling,” she finally said, her breath softly caressing his skin.

He tucked a hand beneath his head and stared at the ceiling. “Uh huh.” Suddenly, he was regretting bringing the subject up. It had just been his ego talking earlier, wanting affirmation that he was more important to her than a twelve-year-old boy. He’d left the door wide open for “the relationship discussion” and he had no one to blame but himself. The thing was, his theory about getting over his sexual attraction to Carly in one night was a bunch of crap. Hadn’t he figured that out the first night he’d had her?

Instead, sex with her was addictive. And not just the sex. Everything about Carly made him want more. More of her unguarded smiles. More of her casual caresses. More of her laughter. More of her. But in return, she’d want more of him. More than he was capable of giving.

He played with her hair and tried to defuse the situation by turning on his Devil of the NFL charm. “We could always renegotiate our original agreement to cover the rest of the off-season.” That way, they could continue as they were, but he’d have an out in two weeks when training camp started.

She rolled onto his chest, leveling her face with his. “Oh no, you don’t,” she said. “If you want me to stay and help with Troy, you just have to ask. You don’t get to use sex to sweeten the deal. I told you when he arrived I’d help him. But not because I want to sleep with you. That’s insulting.”

Something flickered within his sternum as she spoke. He wasn’t sure if it was triumph or panic. Theirs was only a temporary relationship, the only kind Shane did. When the season started, he needed to focus all his energy on playing. It was the only way he knew to be successful. Yet the thought of not having Carly around made him break out into a sweat.

“This,” she said, waving a hand between them, “this . . . is amazing.”

The flickering in his chest became a drumbeat.

“But,” she continued, her soft voice sad, “it isn’t going to be more than it is right now. You’re a total commitment phobe, I get that, Shane. And I’ve already survived a relationship with a superstar athlete. One which I have no desire to repeat.”

The thing in his chest became a rock now as he watched tears fill Carly’s eyes. He hated what her ex-fiancé had done to her. Almost as much as he hated her putting them both in the same category—the one labeled jackass.

“What I don’t get,” she said, “is why you can’t try to have a relationship with the only family you have in the world. It’s not like you can’t relate to what he’s going through.”

Shane had no trouble identifying the feeling in his chest now. It was anger. He was really getting sick of everyone assuming he was the best person to care for the kid just because they’d had similar life stories. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“No!” she cried, slapping a hand on his chest. “You don’t get to be mad, either. You’ve fooled the rest of the world into believing you’re some independent, tough guy, but not me. Don’t sell yourself short. I know you’re capable of having a relationship with your brother.”

He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look into her stormy ones. She thought he was capable of a relationship? Was she crazy? Carly had no idea how wrong she was. His mother was so distraught that her husband no longer loved her, she hadn’t bothered to fight her cancer. She hadn’t bothered to stick around for the one person who did love her—her son. His father was no better. He’d gone on to have a happier life with the son he’d actually wanted.

Carly’s warm tears fell onto his skin, making him tremble. She had it wrong. He wasn’t incapable of relationships; he was just incapable of being loved. Raising Bruce’s kid would only prove that. The kid would abandon him for someone else eventually. Hell, if given the choice, he’d probably pick Carly as his guardian. Not that Shane could blame him. And not that it wouldn’t hurt just a little.

She gave a frustrated huff at his silence before rolling off and putting her back to him. Shane opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Carly certainly made it sound as though their relationship was casual, but that didn’t matter. She had hopes and aspirations about him forging a bond with the kid. He knew he was going to get hurt in the end no matter what.

Carly refused to let Shane’s ambivalence about Troy dampen the boy’s adjustment to life without his parents, even though her heart was telling her she was entering dangerous territory. Her feelings for the Devlin brothers were complicated. She wanted to protect them—both of them. From each other and from the hard knocks life had dealt them. Something inside Carly couldn’t let either of them go until they’d forged a relationship together. The problem was, the more committed she became to that idea, the more committed she became to them.

As the days passed, Shane seemed to relax, spending more and more time with her and Troy. Each day fell into a familiar pattern. In the mornings, he and Troy would argue about something they’d seen on SportsCenter while they prepared breakfast in the kitchen. Shane allowed Troy to help more and more with the cooking, unaware that the action only fueled the boy’s hero worship. While Shane worked out after breakfast, Troy cheerfully cleaned up, chattering to Carly about what he and Shane were cooking for dinner or the game films they were going to analyze later. In the afternoons the three of them took Beckett and hiked through the hills surrounding the cabin. At night, they all played cards or made s’mores in the fire pit.

Afterward, in bed, Shane and Carly played their own games. She was grateful he had relaxed back into the teasing lover he’d been before. It was easier to handle her feelings toward him when the sex was lighter, more playful. There was a vulnerable man behind the loner’s mask he wore for the world, but she knew if she delved too deeply, he’d pull back. Just as he’d done the other night. His refusal to let her in had stung too much, sending up alarm bells of her own. She needed to be able to walk away unhurt, and she couldn’t do that if she let him too close to her heart.

Later that week, Carly returned from the farm stand in town to find the house empty. Troy had mentioned wanting to go fishing, so Carly loaded up a basket with some cookies she’d picked up while she was out and headed down to the stream. The sound of voices, deep in conversation, reached her before she made it to the water. She smiled as she realized that, in less than a week, Shane had gone from grunting monosyllables at Troy to actually engaging him in a conversation. As far as she knew, Shane still hadn’t uttered the boy’s name, but he was slowly making progress.

“At least I don’t suck at fishing,” she heard Troy say.

“There’s not much to suck at with fishing,” Shane said as he cast his line out into the pond at the mouth of the stream. “It’s mostly luck.”

Troy grunted. “I suck at most sports.”

Carly stood still, obscured by a maple tree, and watched as the two fished. Shane waded up to his ankles in the water, his torso bare to the sun, a pair of worn Levi’s hugging his thighs. Shiny Revo sunglasses glinted against the sun. Troy stood on a flat rock, barefoot, dressed in a shorts and a T-shirt with a Blaze ball cap shielding his eyes. He held his fishing pole perfectly still. Beckett snored softly from where he lounged in the sun farther downstream.

“Not everyone can be a star athlete,” Shane consoled the boy.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get the Devlin genes.”

Shane gave a little snort before turning to look at Troy. “That’s nothing to be disappointed about.”

“Says you. You’re a professional athlete. And so was dad. I can barely throw a ball ten feet.”

“There’s more to life than being a professional athlete, kid.”

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