Page 65 of Quarterback Sneak

“There’s one thing bothering me,” Sam said.

“What is it?” She relaxed in the circle of his arms, exactly where she wanted to remain for the rest of her life.

“You have never said you love me. There I am, baring my soul to you, and you have yet to tell me what I want to hear the most. ”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and looped her fingers behind his head. “I love you. I don’t want you to be anybody except your own perfect self, only more verbal.”

“I’m not perfect. I’m an overachiever who works hard to get what he wants. And I want you.” To prove his point, he unfastened her bodice and allowed the top to fall down. His large hand splayed her back, and he pulled her in, his lips seeking hers. All the love she had for him poured forth and she kissed him back with open abandonment.

Ecstatic, she pulled back when the clouds opened up and rain poured down on them. “We should go inside. I might get wet.”

He laughed at her silly joke and pressed his body tighter against her spread legs. “But we were getting ready to skinny dip.”

“What is it with you and skinny dipping?” she asked.

“Skinny dipping implies no clothes. You’re still wearing underwear, although I’m psyched about the no bra thing.” To follow up his comment, he palmed her exposed nipple, teasing it with this thumb.

“You’re wearing more clothes then me.” She protested, leaning into nibble at his chin. “Take off your shirt.”

“Gladly.” He started to remove his shirt but the chain of her necklace was looped around his button. He lifted the delicate chain to detangle it and frowned. “Is this new?”

“No, it’s the same one Sham gave me at the mark—” She broke off, her eyes glued to the amulet. The stone was no longer jade green, but a snowy white, so pale the pendant was almost translucent. Sham’s words came back to her. The first step to finding true love is acceptance. Take the necklace. Wear it with hope in your heart and when you find the perfect man for you, everything will become clear.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“The winner of the 3Square Charity Tournament held here in beautiful Las Vegas is...”

Ivy fingered her wedding ring from where she stood on the makeshift kitchen set, trying to calm her ragged nerves. She’d made it to the last round and the only thing between her and winning was the chef standing next to her.

A table with three judges, two men and a woman, sat on a raised dais, all looking at the host, a fifty-something man with freakishly white teeth. The host stared into the camera with such intensity, Ivy wanted to burst into nervous laughter.

“…Chef Ivy Turin,” the host said.

The light over her station stayed on, the one for her competitor going dark. The three judges clapped, grinning. The thrill of the win rushed through her and she arched her neck, blowing out a breath. She stared up at the beams in the ceiling, murmuring a silent prayer of thanks. The judges began to talk to the losing chef and the knots in her stomach loosened. The man left the set, stopping long enough to shake Ivy’s hand.

She couldn’t stop smiling and didn’t bother to hide her pleasure.

“Well, Chef Ivy Turin, how does it feel to win the 3Square Charity tournament?” the host asked.

“It feels fantastic. I want to thank the judges and the show’s producer for allowing me to compete.”

“You won $50,000 for your charity, the Fresh Water Fund, and the head of the charity, Sam Rockney, is here to accept the prize.”

Sam strode out on set and her heart swelled. She threw herself into his arms and he lifted her high. Giggling with pure joy from her win, she whispered in his ear. “I won, can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can. You deserve it.” He kissed her cheek and released her, his arm still looped around her waist.

Alice came out of the shadows dressed in a black skirt and a white silk blouse, a clipboard in hand. She glanced down at it, her blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. “Okay, Sam, Ivy, can you both follow me for the exit interview?”

“Sure,” Sam said. Ivy squeezed his waist as they walked toward the seating area where lights were set up around a blue couch next to two chairs. She rested her head on his chest for a moment, the anxiety leading up to the tournament gone but euphoria over her win gave her a boost of energy. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and brought his mouth down for a deep kiss, uncaring of who watched. If they were alone, she’d jump his bones. Sadly, they weren’t.

Someone cleared their throat and she broke the kiss. Sam caressed her cheek with his thumb before he released her.

“Can I get makeup in here? Chef Turin needs her lipstick fixed,” Alice said, casting Ivy a mischievous grin. While Alice was the consummate professional, Ivy had developed a rapport with the woman and genuinely liked her.

Sam plopped down on the couch and Ivy sat next to him. The makeup woman came in, tilting Ivy’s chin. She performed the task in an efficient manner before she disappeared once more.

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