Page 30 of Quarterback Sneak

He strode towards the market stairs and retrieved his phone to call Howler. He was euphoric over the prospect of closing the deal with Ivy but he also had another deal to be concerned about. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with San Francisco. They want you to sign on the dotted line with a four year contract and a huge bonus.”

“And the Pioneers?” Sam turned his back on a family approaching with two young boys sporting green and gold jerseys. He didn’t want to be recognized by anyone, especially given what happened the last time he’d been in the same vicinity. He flipped the hoodie over his head and took the stairs down to Market two at a time. “Still no word?”

“Oh, there were words, lots of them. How could you advise Sam to speak to another team? And how could he disappoint the fans of Seattle by abandoning them when they needed him most? The typical bullshit. I guess two Super Bowl wins isn’t enough for the stupid bastards. If anyone is betraying Seattle, it’s them. ”

Sam agreed wholeheartedly.

“They’ve given you ten days to decide. If we don’t hear from Miller by Monday, I think you should take the deal. You’ll play out the rest of the year with Seattle then make the move.”

Deep down, Sam had come to the same conclusion; he simply hadn’t wanted to accept it. “It’s not ideal but Miller isn’t giving me much of a choice, is he?”

“No, I’m afraid he’s not. Take the weekend to think about the offer.”

After he hung up, Sam jogged the rest of the way to Alaskan Way. The organizations reluctance to sign him was a slap in the face. Sam had helped the team go from two in sixteen to fourteen and two. In his second year of playing professionally, he’d broken countless records and carried the franchise to the playoffs for the first time in three decades. He’d brought them to the top but suddenly his best wasn’t good enough.

Sam halted mid-step as small dots of light flashed across his eyes before a dull throbbing crept into his temples. Shit, a headache. He prayed it wouldn’t turn into a migraine. He hadn’t suffered from one since his first year of college. So much had been happening and his body had betrayed him. Like the Pioneers were doing. He pushed the negative thought from his mind and tried to reassure himself. It was a headache. Millions of people around the world got them for no apparent reason. He’d pop some over the counter medication and be fine in an hour.

He forced his tense muscles to relax and jogged the last few feet to the boat. His cellphone buzzed and he glanced down to see a text from Ivy. Attached was a picture of her in a gaudy pair of pants and a white tank top. On closer inspection, he noticed the red chili peppers dotting the black material. He chuckled and an unexpected lightness burned its way through his chest.

Damn if he wasn’t falling in love with her. The epiphany hit him harder than a malicious sack. The voice of reason whispered it was too soon for such a strong emotion. Howler would tell him his dick was ruling his head. The emotion was more than lust. When around her, he experienced a sense of wholeness lacking of late. He had a million things to occupy him aside from football and his charitable endeavors. Each had proved a solitary path to a goal he’d set for himself. Soon one of them would become a dead end but another had opened up when he set eyes on Ivy. He wanted to walk the path of life with her, sharp turns and all. The question was, would she feel the same way?

“I love looking at the Space Needle.” Ivy snuggled next to Sam as they skirted the brightly lit iconic landmark, the dome painted green and gold to represent the Pioneers colors. After the stress of the Seasoned Chef shoot, she should have been able to relax. Sadly, the residual anger over Alice’s proposal, coupled with the dessert fiasco, still haunted her.

“I recall the first time I went to the observation deck. My Boy Scout leader brought us here as a treat. I think I was seven or eight,” Sam said.

“You were a Boy Scout?” She tilted her head to the bright lights and tried to shake the bad feelings that plagued her. Tonight was about a romantic evening with Sam, not obsessing over something she couldn’t change. There would be more opportunities to compete without selling her soul. The immediate future took precedence over her career. She rested her hand on his chest and a tremor of eagerness skittered up her spine. Tonight she had every intention of having sex with her hunky boyfriend and she could hardly wait.

“For two years.”

“That explains why you’re so damned perfect. Isn’t their motto to help others and to stay mentally and physically strong and, correct me if I’m wrong, morally upright or something else along those lines?” If so, Sam was the personification of the Boy Scout pledge. As a child, he probably helped the elderly across the street in droves. The visual made her chuckle.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Never.” She slid her hand inside his jacket and over the fabric of his shirt to explore the muscles beneath the cotton. He pressed closer, his mouth playing seductively over hers. Need fired her blood and any hesitation she might have about the upcoming night fell to the wayside. She bit his bottom lip, her tongue coming out to sooth it. He brought her hips flush with his, his large hands splaying her bottom.

“Get a room,” a woman walking past said to her companion.

“Good call. Let’s find a cab,” Sam said.

Walking on a cloud of anticipation, she frowned when Sam suddenly stopped. Heart hammering, she clutched his fingers. A man with a gun blocked the path. In the bizarre moment, the only thing she could focus on was the mugger’s Pioneers cap.

“Give me the wallet and the purse.”

Despite the stern demand, Ivy stood stiff, not able to move. Luckily, Sam had the fortitude to respond to the request. He retrieved his wallet and held it out, hand steady despite the dangerous situation.

The mugger made to snatch it but halted. “Hey, you’re Knute. The sneak you did against Pittsburgh in the last two minutes of the Super Bowl was sweet. Is that your ring?”

Sam placed his body more fully between her and the threat of the gun. “Yes.”

“Can I see it?” The mugger’s once low voice was now high with excitement.

Ivy opened her mouth to protest then thought better of it. Yes, Sam worked hard for the ring but it was a possession, not worth anyone’s life. Hopefully, the guy would take the ring and leave. She started to feel the onset of a panic attack. Sam was in the direct line of the weapon and could easily be shot if the mugger wasn’t careful.

The mugger palmed the ring Sam handed him, awestruck. “You think the Pioneers are going to the Super Bowl this year?”

“I hope so. Are you a fan?” Sam asked. His voice carried a unique authority, one the mugger appeared to respond to.

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