Page 16 of Quarterback Sneak

“I promised to work out with him tomorrow.” Watching the Paulson’s bicker made Sam even more determined to help Jake in any way he could. He hadn’t taken Jane’s plea lightly. She might be a piece of work, but she loved her son.

“So he said about every ten minutes when his father wasn’t quizzing him about every play he’d ever run. Each time Lyle would get all pissed off and tell him he didn’t need your help. I was shocked as shit when Jake finally grew a backbone and told his old man to leave him alone. In the few minutes you talked, you made some impression on the guy.”

How many times had Patrick gotten into Sam’s face, spouting his favorite line: When you play the game, you play for fame. Normal is for losers.

Despite his wishing otherwise, the words had stuck with him. Fame was a game he played well, and he intended to ride out the benefits until the well dried up. He had plans for his future, and he wasn’t going to give up on his own as easily as his father had.

Chapter Seven

The vibration from her cell phone signaled an incoming call. Ivy jumped, her nerves stretched in taut anticipation, eager for some kind of communication from Sam. Although he’d been gone for barely a day, the time plodded on interminably. It might also have had something to do with the never-ending feed of sports television her father insisted on playing before he lost the TV to movie night.

Sam’s text last night said he had touched down and he would call as soon as he could. She glanced around for a private spot to take the call. The fewer questions at this juncture, the better. She still hadn’t given Sam her answer about their future.

Lucky for her, Ivy’s dad and Beth began a lively debate over some baseball game, and she was able to slip out onto the patio at her parents’ house. Apparently, everyone had an opinion about sports except her.

She gripped the phone case and tapped the accept button. “Hey.”

“Did I catch you at an inconvenient time?” His low voice reverberated through the phone like a light caress.

“No, I just got home.”

“Good. I’m sorry, but I’ve only got a few minutes. I wanted to call you, to hear your voice. I hope it’s ok,” he asked, a slight hesitation in the last word. “I promised I wouldn’t pressure you, but I do miss you.”

Me too. She refrained from responding in kind, the words catching in her throat at the implication of what such a commitment would entail. She sank deeper into the shadows of the garden, as if the darkness could mask her growing affection. “I’m glad you called. I hope things are going well? Not that you need to tell me. It’s probably best you don’t.”

The brief silence following her comment either signaled she had stepped into a sensitive subject or hadn’t given him the answer he was looking for. “The less information you have, the better. Not that I don’t trust you. But these people are master manipulators and will use any trick in the book to get you to talk about me.”

“Will they be sporting curled mustaches and wearing black funeral suits?” Her joke covered up the fact she hadn’t even deliberated on how easy it might be to betray him, even by accident. She wasn’t used to having to hide information about her boyfriend from her friends and family. That kind of thing would close her off in a world where Sam was at the center. All topics of conversation shaped by some nondisclosure agreement.

“Not that blatant, more like unnaturally white, sharp teeth and tailored wool suits.”

She released a airy laugh at his teasing. Those men he was meeting with might have to worry about Sam’s skills at manipulation. She was certainly putty in his hands. “In other words, a pack of wolves in sheep’s clothing. Nice.”

“Wolves do have ferocious appetites. As does any hunter with its prey in its sight,” he growled in a sexy tone which sent chills up her spine. “You had better avoid wearing a red cape or your red chili-pepper chef’s pants.”

“Too late, I’ve been caught.” She’d worn the pants to work that morning. Even though Kevin had bought them for her, she’d created a new memory for the pants with Sam, and she’d worn them as a reminder of him. Not that she needed much of that. He was in her every waking thought and her dreams as well.

“Are you really wearing those infamous pants?”

“Are you seriously asking me what I’m wearing? Because that’s so clichéd.” On the other side of the French doors, her family and Beth were still locked in rigorous discussion. Her father limped his way across the dining room in his cast, gesticulating with the cane he’d been forced to carry since he’d broken his ankle the month before. Hanging outside on her parents’ porch talking to her boyfriend on the patio reminded her of her teenage years, and a blush heated her cheeks.

“Wow, yesterday I was creepy, and now I’m clichéd? I’m moving up in the world. Can you send me a picture of you in the infamous pants? I’m interested to see you in them—and even more interested to see you out of them, but that’s a whole different subject altogether.”

“When I mentioned home, I meant I’m at my parents’ house. They’d probably think it was weird if I was taking suggestive selfies at the family dinner table.”

“Oh, I hope I didn’t interrupt your meal. What a way for me to make a first impression on your dad.”

“You lucked out. We’re having junk food in front of the TV tonight.” She glanced back at the house and gripped the phone tighter, wanting to ask a hundred questions but unsure where to start. “So how was your flight?”

“The flight was fine but the before and after sucked. Howler’s client was decent enough. His father was a douche and his mother is definitely stalker material and not in a joking way.”

“She hit on you?” Howler’s words came back to her. She has nice tits and a nice ass. Did Sam think the same thing? Ivy hadn’t committed to the relationship yet. Would he take that as an invitation to hook up with some other woman?

“I told her I had someone at home I didn’t want to disappoint. I’d love to say this kind of stuff never happens to me. The truth is it happens all the time. The team actually gives classes on how to cope with overzealous fans. It’s an occupational hazard. One I try to avoid at all costs, especially now that I met you.”

Her heart softened at his answer, then steeled. Remember before, when you were fooled by pretty words. Kevin was a master at them.

Sam’s not Kevin; give the man the benefit of the doubt.

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