Page 15 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“What sort of appointment.” Shane frowns, his mind automatically drifting toward worst-case scenarios since injuries are our worst fear. I guess I could’ve phrased that better.

“More like a meeting. My agent says I need a bigger presence outside the game. He wants me to do some charity stuff.” I lose my pants and wrap a towel around my waist so I can head to the shower.

“What kind of charity stuff?” Dante asks.

“I don’t know, that’s what the meeting’s about.”

“Okay, do your meeting. But then over the weekend, we gotta make a plan for getting some of the young guys ready.” He holds up his fist.

“Will do.” I give him a fist bump before heading into the shower stall, feeling like things with Samantha are over before they could begin. But as I rinse off, it feels like football, instead of a mysterious brunette that I’m washing away.

Samantha

It’shappeningagain.Iopen the door, and time stops. It completely stops, leaving me at the mercy of my body, which seems content to do nothing but admire the man standing before it.

I thought I was prepared this time. That I would be able to see him without falling victim to the sheer magnetism of his presence, given the external perfection, hides some internal flaws. But the piercing blue eyes staring into mine make it all too easy to forget that.

“Samantha,” he drawls with an amused smile.

I’ve been caught ogling again, dammit. It’s on the tip of my tongue to recover with a clipped “hello,” but then I remember my promise to Delaney. I’m supposed to be friendly. Welcoming. To smile with meaning instead of obligation. I take a fortifying breath and do my best to pretend I’m happy, not terrified, to see him.

“Colt. Hi.” I step back so he can enter the office.

I feel his gaze take me in before he strolls casually inside to take a seat. I take another breath and close the door, willing my feet to hold steady as his eyes track me to my desk.

“I have a few options for you depending on how much time you have to commit.” I begin as I sit, hoping once I get into a groove I can relax a bit and try the smiling thing Delaney wants me to practice. But as I review the different plans I’ve come up with, talking gets harder, not easier. I feel the weight of Colt’s stare even though I’m deliberately avoiding it, and knowing those blue eyes are focused on me is just as distracting as seeing it.

When I wrap up my presentation, I finally feel ready to look at him. I let my eyes meet his and wait for a response. He’s leaning back in the chair, hands resting on his stomach, observing me almost thoughtfully.

As the silence drags on, I’m tempted to ask if he needs me to repeat anything since I already know he has a habit of watching me talk instead of listening, but before I can, he abruptly leans forward and rests his arms on his knees, bringing his face as close to mine as he can get with the desk sitting between us.

“Can we finish this over dinner? I’m starving.”

“You weren’t listening.” I close my eyes and pray for patience, not at all thrilled about the idea of having to go through the whole thing again, and slightly ashamed by the thrill of imagining thatIcan distract him.

“What? Of course, I was. But that was a lot of information to digest, and I can’t do that on an empty stomach.” He stands up and heads toward the door, turning to me as he opens it. “Ladies first.” He gestures for me to leave before him.

I hate the presumption that I’m going to follow him, but something about his tone resonates with me. He’s not demanding I go with him, but he is confident I’ll follow his lead, and I find that intriguing. I sort of admire it, if I’m being honest, because that’s the type of confidence I’d like to project to my clients.

I don’t love the idea of an off-site meeting with Colt. His presence is overwhelming, but inside the familiar walls of my office, I feel safe. In control, mostly. I’m not sure I’ll feel that way on unfamiliar ground. But I told Delaney I’d try to be friendly, and Colt said we’d talk about business. Plus, I love going out to eat. The food here is heavenly. So, even though it’s outside my element, I reach for my purse.

I step through the door Colt’s holding open, trying not to acknowledge the tingle that courses through me when he places his hand on the small of my back and leads me to the parking lot. He steers us toward a white Range Rover and opens the door, closing it after I sink into the plush leather seat. But there’s only a minute to appreciate the luxury around me before Colt’s imposing frame fills the space.

The seats aren’t on top of each other, they’re actually quite spacious, but being trapped so close to him, where his outdoorsy scent swirls around me, I can’t seem to get my body to stop humming. I shift slightly, pointing my knees away from his body, in an effort to regain my composure.

“Where are we going?” I think my voice cracks just before the engine turns over with a throaty hum.

“My favorite steakhouse.” He glances at the screen on the dash to see what’s behind us before he pulls out.

I casually glance over my shoulder to make sure the path is clear. I don’t trust the idea of looking forward to go backward. I catch Colt watching me with an amused grin, but he doesn’t comment.

“Steak is part of your diet during the season?” I recall him mentioning clean diet once the season starts.

He casts an appreciative look in my direction. “The occasional steak.” He winks. “But they have other stuff too. They’re just known for their steak.”

He pulls into one of the most popular restaurants in all of Denver, one that would be outside my budget unless it’s a special occasion. I say a little thank you that we came straight from the office, so I’m at least dressed professionally. But the same can’t be said for Colt’s jeans and rumpled button-down.

“Can we go in like this?” I ask hesitantly.

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