Page 35 of Game On

“No. Yeah. I mean, I’m just a little jumpy, that’s all. I guess the other night is still getting to me.” The residual panic caused her to babble.

Shane reached over and ran his knuckles down her cheek.

“It’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Just give it time.”

It was all she could do not to turn her head and brush her lips against his hand. Instead she took a deep breath, pushing away from the door. The man just lost his father. While she was grateful Shane’s unexpected arrival distracted her from the panic of the email, one look at his face and Carly knew she couldn’t burden him with her problems. She would worry about Joel’s nonsensical email message tomorrow. For tonight, she’d do what she could to comfort Shane. After he’d rescued her at the gala, she owed him that much.

Beckett shattered the moment by shoving a stuffed goose into Shane’s thigh. The toy made a honking noise and Shane grabbed for it, only to have Beckett run away with it.

“I bought him a few toys to play with,” Carly said as they walked into the living room.

“A few?” he asked, gesturing to the basket of toys next to Beckett’s makeshift bed.

“Did you know they let you bring dogs into the pet stores?” She took a seat on one side of the sofa, tucking her bare feet beneath her legs.

“You took my dog shopping?” The tone of his voice was incredulous as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa. He braced his forearms on his thighs as Beckett sat between his knees.

“It’s not as if I had him neutered. It was just shopping. And, for your information, he liked it,” she teased.

“That’s the last time I leave you with a girl,” he promised the dog.

Silence settled around them as Shane rubbed the dog’s ears. Carly couldn’t help squirming as she remembered the last time they were together on this sofa. She chanced a look at Shane’s exhausted face. His thoughts weren’t as easy to read as he absently stroked the dog. Suddenly, Carly was imagining those same hands stroking her and her pulse sped up yet again.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” she asked, springing up from the sofa. “I’m afraid the only thing I can make is an egg. Unless you want a Lean Cuisine,” she called from the kitchen.

“Carly. It’s okay.” His voice sounded as tired as he looked. “A bunch of blue-haired ladies have been shoving food down my throat for three days. I’m good for right now.”

“Oh.” He must have heard the disappointment in her voice.

He sighed. “I’ll have a drink if it’ll make you happy.”

Carly pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, pleased Julianne had made her buy fancy beer glasses. She put the glass and a coaster on the table next to Shane and handed him the beer. He twisted off the cap and took a swig, ignoring the glass.

“It’s diet,” she said, babbling again. “Well, not exactly diet. Reduced carbs.”

He leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes, patting the seat next to him. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

She didn’t quite trust herself to sit next to him, so she chose the other end of the sofa instead. He briefly opened his eyes as she sat, giving her a half scowl—as if he realized her reluctance to be near him—before closing them again.

The only sounds were Beckett’s heavy breathing and the hushed voices from the TV she’d left on upstairs. For a moment she thought Shane had fallen asleep until he took a long swallow from his beer.

“So, how did everything go?” she asked when he finished.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “About like you’d expect.”

Carly should have let it alone, but she desperately wanted Shane to open up to her. The night of the gala, she’d glimpsed a vulnerable man behind the public persona of arrogant, isolated athlete he wore like a shield. He was a man who’d been abandoned by his father, and Carly knew firsthand what that feeling was like.

“Hank said the service was very nice,” she pressed on.

Opening his eyes, he slowly turned his head toward her. His steely stare told her she was treading on thin ice.

“It was a lovely service, Carly,” he said, his tone sarcastic. “The right reverend sure can put on a funeral. Even if the deceased is his own daughter.”

“Well, I’m sure your brother appreciated it.”

Leaning back he closed his eyes again. “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to go into this, Carly. My father never was my favorite subject.”

“But what’s going to happen to your brother now? He’s what, twelve? Who’s going to take care of him?”

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