“It’s a little late now. Hell, Shane, you’ve still got to get through training camp to play this year. She’s the coach’s sister-in-law, for crying out loud. And the GM’s assistant! Did you not learn anything in San Diego?”
“It’s not what you think,” Shane said, barely keeping his voice from a yell. His hands were in fists and he was sorely tempted to leap up the steps and throw Roscoe over the railing. It wouldn’t take much more to push him to do it, either.
Roscoe had the nerve to laugh. “Give me a break, Devlin. I’ve known you too long not to know exactly what this is.” He put both hands up as Shane started toward him. “Hey, you don’t pay me to be your moral compass. Just to clean up the mess afterward. And my rates will be the same when this one needs mopping up, too.”
“Wow, Shane, your agent is as much of an egotistical ass as you are.”
Shane spun around to look at Carly standing beside him, her arms mutinously crossed beneath her breasts as storm clouds formed in her eyes. He felt a pinch of pride as she stood up to Roscoe—who was being an egotistical ass—but he hated that she felt she needed to defend herself. And he wasn’t that happy she’d essentially called him an egotistical ass, as well. He thought they’d progressed beyond that.
“There won’t be anything to mop up,” she said, notching her chin a bit higher. Shane stepped in front of her, essentially cutting her off from Roscoe’s glare. From now on, Shane would be the one doing the defending.
“I said leave her out of it, Roscoe.” As grand gestures went, it was pretty lame.
Roscoe arched an eyebrow at him. “Huh, that’s interesting,” he said, offering up a smirk.
Carly huffed behind Shane.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Shane asked.
“Boarding schools.” Roscoe thumped a large manila envelope that lay on the step beside him. “If you want Troy settled before camp starts, you need to do a little song and dance. The application process can be a lengthy one, but some schools are interested in waiving the procedures with the right amount of incentives. He’ll need to go on interviews next week.”
“Boarding school?” the kid said from where he stood on the front lawn, Beckett at his feet. “You’re sending me away?” The agony in his voice sent something flickering in Shane’s belly.
“Ahhh, for crying out loud, Shane! You didn’t tell him?” Roscoe swore.
Shane looked at the kid. His lip was quivering again and tears filled his eyes. Hell. He’d royally screwed this up. Shane stepped away from the porch, but the kid wasn’t waiting around. With a sob, he took off down the hill.
“Troy!” Shane yelled, sprinting down the steps after him.
Carly shoved what she could into the gym bag Shane had packed her clothes in the week before. In the bathroom she tossed her toiletries into a plastic grocery bag, not bothering to collect her toothbrush from Shane’s bathroom. God, she’d been a fool. Despite knowing who and what Shane Devlin was, she’d fallen in love with him. Worst of all, she’d almost blurted it out to him earlier. Well, better off ending it before she got in too deep. As if she could fall any deeper.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She turned to see Shane filling the doorway, that menacing look back on his face. Letting her eyes drink him in one last time, she zipped up the gym bag.
“I’m doing what I should have done the day Joel was arrested. I’m going home.”
“Carly,” he said, his voice softening, but not his posture. “Don’t listen to what Roscoe says. He’s an idiot.”
“No. As far as I’m concerned, the only idiots here are the ones standing in this room. And your agent is right. I should have known better.”
“Don’t do this.” He’d moved closer without her realizing, sliding his hand over the one she had tightly gripping the handle of the bag.
Gathering her courage, Carly forced a smile as she lifted her face to him. “I have to do this. This was supposed to be just about sex. But I lost sight of that. I . . . I thought that maybe there could be something more. But I was wrong.” Taking a deep breath, she licked her dry lips, trying to steady her voice. “You’re not even capable of a relationship with your own flesh and blood. It would be impossible for you to love . . . to have a relationship with me.”
He reached out to touch her, but Carly backed away. “Are you saying that you feel something for me?” he asked.
Great. Leave it to him to latch on to the love word. She hadn’t meant to say it, but maybe it would work to her advantage and drive him away. After all, it sent most men running for the hills, didn’t it?
“No. I mean maybe. If we kept this up I might,” she said, sliding her purse to her shoulder. “But I’m a grown-up and I can control my feelings, so don’t get all hinky on me. I’m going back to Baltimore so you can concentrate on getting ready for the season. That is your main priority, isn’t it? Shuffling Troy off to boarding school and getting rid of all the distractions? Well, I’m saving you the trouble. Now you have no excuses not to secure your precious starting job.”
Avoiding any eye contact, Carly hefted up her gym bag and walked past Shane to the door. She tried to swallow but her mouth was like cotton and her eyes ached from holding the tears at bay.
As she made her way to the front door, she heard the sound of the twins chortling in one of the bedrooms, their mother trying to get them down for a nap. Roscoe sat in one of the wooden rockers on the front porch, a beer in his hand. Pushing through the screen doors, Carly spied Troy dragging his huge duffel bag across the lawn to her rental car, a distressed Beckett following behind him.
“Take me with you, Carly,” Troy said, his voice wavering. “Please.” Carly’s heart broke a little more as she looked at the boy’s distraught face.
“Terrific.” Shane’s voice came from up on the porch. “A full-scale mutiny.” When she turned, he looked like the mutinous one. “You’re not going anywhere, Troy.”