Page 51 of Score to Settle
MIA:I might have made sure his name was on the list.
HARPER:And you didn’t tell me?
MIA:Where’s the surprise in that? Are you walking like a fifty-year-old bull rider this morning?
HARPER:Pleading the fifth!
MIA:Fifth or filth? Tell me everything.
HARPER:I don’t kiss and tell.
MIA:OMG! You gotta give me something. Was it good? It was, right!
HARPER:BDE.
MIA:I knew it!!
DAD:Something’s come up and I’m leaving for New York this morning. Rain check on lunch?
HARPER:Sure.
Notes for article: Jake Sullivan is the best wingman anyone could ask for.
When I woke up earlier, I found myself in Jake’s bedroom. In Jake’s bed. Wrapped in Jake’s warm embrace. Bright morning daylight pushed in through the window. If I was expecting another bedroom like Chase’s—football memorabilia and something teen-like—I was wrong. Jake’s room, like him, is all man. The walls are a deep navy. The furniture dark wood, solid and sturdy. The hardwood floor is covered by a thick gray rug, and on the wall is a striking black-and-white photograph of the mountains. The room is dominated by a large bed with white sheets I was tangled in.
Memories from last night flooded my body. It was an effort to keep my breathing even. The last thing I wanted was to wake Jake. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts, and I couldn’t do that while resting in the crook of Jake’s arm, breathing in that woodsy masculine scent as my body tingled with desire. And so slowly, silently, I slipped out of Jake’s embrace.
Now, in the familiar surrounds of Chase’s bedroom, I breathe a little easier. It’s still early. Jake isn’t due at Stormhawks Park until this afternoon. There’s time for me to escape. For a little while, anyway. I throw on my running clothes and pull my hair into a high ponytail before heading downstairs. In the hall, I see my dress—a puddle of red silk on the floor. I scoop it up alongwith my underwear and heels. My gaze strays to the living room as I pass the doorway, to the couch Jake laid me down on. The heat of the memories burns my skin and I hurry to the safety of the kitchen. It feels strange to find it empty. Last night I was grateful we had the ranch to ourselves, but this morning I miss Mama’s calming presence. She always seems to know the right thing to say, the right time for the coffee to be ready and something tasty just out of the stove. I drop last night’s clothes on the table and grab a glass of water.
From the corner of the room paws clatter on the floor and I turn to find Buck’s floppy ears and wagging tail moving toward me. “Hey,” I coo, running my hands over his soft fur. “You wanna come for a run with me?” I take a step and Buck dances around my legs, beating me to the back door.
Outside, the day is bright, the sky a pale blue. Last night’s snow covers the ground like a dusting of powdered sugar. Buck bounds ahead, his paws leaving prints in the shallow snow. Cold bites my face and hands as I bounce on my toes, tighten my ponytail, and heave in a breath of fresh mountain air before following after Buck in the direction of the lake.
As blood pumps through my veins, the cold gradually loses its edge and my mind takes me straight back to last night. The sex was… I don’t have the words. Heat pulses through me and it has nothing to do with how fast I’m running. It was the best sex of my life. Amazing, perfect, mind-blowing. The kind of sex I didn’t think existed. Even thinking about it makes my body ache for Jake’s touch.
Ahead of me, the spruce trees stretch toward the sky, casting long shadows over the untouched snow. Tiny mountains of white sit on the branches and I turn my gaze to the horizon and the real snowcapped peaks of the Rockies, painted shades of orange and pink by the rising sun. The view is breathtaking but it’s not enough to stop the next rush of memories hitting me.
Obviously this is just sex.
My words from last night twist in my gut. I knew Jake would be thinking the same—letting me down gently by starting to tell me how incredible I was—and so I said it before he could. Self-preservation, maybe. He’s Jake Sullivan—a star football player at the height of his career. He could have any woman he wanted and even if his reputation is no longer deserved, it doesn’t mean he’s suddenly the type to settle down. He has the world at his fingertips.
And then there’s me. I’m a junior sports journalist, still trying to find my place in that same world. Following in my father’s footsteps, but not really sure if journalism is truly my calling. I feel like I’m so far out of my depth, I’m drowning. I keep waiting for the feeling to pass, but so far it hasn’t.
Then something else occurs to me and a fresh wave of horror floods my body. My heart pounds for an entirely different reason. I feel sick. Light-headed. I’m in so much trouble. I’ve done the one thing Tim told me not to do—I slept with the assignment. Oh, God. How could I have been so unprofessional? Top of the list for why we shouldn’t cross that line, and last night I ignored it. If Tim finds out about this, I’m gone. Fired twice in six months for inappropriate behavior. Even if the first time was all a lie, no one will believe it because last night was definitely all me.
I can’t lose another job!
The cold air burns in my lungs as Buck lopes easily beside me, his nose to the ground. As I run around the lake, the weak winter sun glints off the ice-crusted surface, fracturing into a million diamond pinpricks of light.
Jake and I come from completely different worlds. Last night was incredible, but it can’t happen again. If there’s any chance of me salvaging my career, I have to start acting like the professional I’m always trying to be. If only Jake hadn’t cometo the dinner last night, calling himself my wingman. It’s easily the most thoughtful thing a man has ever done for me.He made the night not just bearable, but actually fun. Seeing the look of disbelief and annoyance on Scott’s face when I was dancing in Jake’s arms was pretty good, too.
Suddenly my mind is filled with thoughts of Scott and my dad. Last night, for the first time, I told my dad what I really thought of Scott. I wonder if Dad remembers, if he was even listening. For an award-winning journalist known for his investigative skills and attention to detail, he’s turned a blind eye to his own daughter for most of her life. I wonder if he canceled our lunch in favor of spending time with Scott.
I shove the thought aside and push my legs faster, reminding myself of all I have. A best friend like Mia. And her mom, Gloria, who’s always welcomed me like a second daughter. Even Dad is still my dad. I remember what Lori told me last night about how he took my stories with him on his trips away when I was a child. He might not show it, but a part of him must care.
I round the corner and the ranch comes back into view, bathed in the morning sunlight. The thought of spending five weeks here felt like a lifetime at the start, but with only eleven days left of the assignment, I know I’m going to miss staying here. Last night I asked Jake to take me home. It was only when he raised a quizzical eyebrow that I realized I meant here—this ranch, a place that in just a few short weeks feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived. The thought of a time when this assignment is over fills me with an emptiness I can’t wrap my head around.
Five weeks no longer feels enough. In eleven days the Stormhawks play their penultimate game of the season, marking the end of my time with Jake. The truth is, we’ve spent so much time together, talked endlessly about his childhood and his dreams, his life playing football, I have almost everything Ineed to write the profile on him, and I can tell already it’s going to be good. It’s going to be everything Mama wants it to be. Everything Jake needs it to be.
