Ask For It (13 page)

She glanced at the family portrait hanging above the family room fireplace. Her mother had battled cancer for several years before she’d died. And in those years, she’d thrown caution to the wind and really learned to live.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, JJ blinked away the tears. Her mom would have liked Trevor. Not just because he was easy on the eyes. But because he was good to her daughter.

“Life’s too short,” she’d said several times during those last years.

“You’re right mom,” JJ whispered to the empty room.

Life was too short to sit on the sidelines, hemming and hawing over the future. The future was uncertain. Trevor was here. Now. And that was good enough.

On her way to his side, she stopped by the cooler for a beer. They made room for her in the circle and Trevor slid an arm around her waist. Wasn’t this what she’d dreamed of for years? And if she was honest, hadn’t she wanted the man at her side to be none other than the wide receiver from the Wolves with the knee-banging smile?

“Trevor was just telling us that the producers of that dance show want him for next season,” her father said.

“Is that right?” JJ cut him a glance. He hadn’t said a word about it. The idea of one of those gorgeous dancers in a barely-there costume made her blood pressure rise. She recognized the flare of jealousy and wouldn’t apologize for it. But she reminded herself that the pro dancers were just that…professionals.

And maybe he’d learn some smooth moves he could use on JJ.

“Show us your moves,” Ronny said.

“You had a pretty good touch down dance, as I recall,” Thomas added.

One of the things she loved most…whoa, girl. Okay, admired most about Trevor was his comfort in his own skin. Years in the spotlight gave him plenty of experience to draw from, plus some really hilarious jokes.

He turned and gave a goofy impression of a butt-shaking cowboy lassoing a calf. Everyone cracked up.

“Your man’s a hit,” Cindy whispered in JJ’s ear.

“I knew he would be,” she said automatically and realized it was true. Despite his once-upon-a-time Bad Boy status, he had the kind of magnetism that drew people in. Was that why she’d been so attracted to him for so many years?

“It’s a good thing he only has eyes for you. Some unscrupulous woman might try to steal him.”

JJ had accepted that fact years ago. That first smile he’d given her had rocked her universe. But she’d known then that he belonged to the world. A man with talent like his couldn’t be locked away. It wasn’t fair.

But he’d locked himself away after his accident, hadn’t he? She didn’t see his name in the news much anymore; he’d left the team. Maybe he didn’t belong to anyone but himself now.

“Good thing the rain stopped. I’m issuing a challenge,” Greg told her, his light blue eyes glittering.

“I’m still gonna kick yer butt,” JJ told him, laying the southern drawl on real thick.

Ronny moved to the built in bench at the edge of the porch and retrieved the football they’d had since they were kids. “Time to get muddy!”

JJ still remembered the first summer her hands had been big enough to hold that hunk of cow hide properly. There were very few moments in her life where she’d been that proud.

“I think we’re going to need bonus points,” Thomas said, stealing the ball and tossing it up in the air.

“Bonus points?” JJ put her beer on the table and started for the yard.

“You know, like the curve in math class. Trevor’s a professional,” her brother insisted.

“Pansy,” JJ chided.

“I’ll go easy on ‘em,” Trevor announced.

“Don’t you dare,” she said. “You’re my not-so-secret weapon. Payback for all they times they—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Thomas yelled. “Just catch the ball.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Are you ready to admit defeat,” JJ crowed two hours later.

Trevor loved the way her eyes sparkled. She was having so much fun taunting her brothers. And being a younger brother himself, he was more than happy to help her settle a few scores.

“Fine. I’m muddy anyway,” Ronny admitted.

Indeed he was. Trevor was a little damp, but he’d dry.

“Good game,” he said, extending his hand to everyone.

“Next year, I’m bringing back up,” Thomas grumbled. “You stacked the deck, sis.”

JJ smiled mischievously.

“Good luck trying to find someone of Trevor’s caliber,” she said as they stepped onto the stone terrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ronny, know any NFL players?” Thomas asked popping beer caps.

“Aside from Trevor, that’d be a no.”

“Looks like I’m gonna win next year too,” JJ taunted.

“All right, quit planning and come eat,” Cindy called from the doorway.

They left their shoes by the back door and descended upon the kitchen en masse. It wasn’t until he stood; plate in hand, and everyone laughed discussing their game and heaping food onto their plates that Trevor realized just how much he missed the noisy family environment. He didn’t go home nearly as much as he should.

Julia’s father brought in a platter of hamburgers and hot dogs. “Eat up!”

Trevor’d just snagged himself a dog when Julia’s cellphone rang. Juggling her plate and cutlery, she retrieved it and glanced at the screen. She sighed and said “I have to take this,” before disappearing into the front hall.

“Her new boss is something else,” Cindy murmured.

“I thought she had the weekend off.”

Cindy paused mid scoop and glanced toward the hall. “She does. It’s a standing arrangement. Not that he gives a—” She cut off and glanced across the island at Mrs Bradley. “You know.”

Trevor knew the type. Anything to win. Whatever it took. Harder. Faster. Better.

From everything he’d read, Julia was great at her job. She understood sports and wrote engaging stories. Hell, Roger Morrison had handpicked her to do his first interview after he’d been indicted on chicken fighting charges two years ago. She’d done an amazing investigative piece on steroids and their lingering effects. Trevor had read almost every article she’d ever written. What did her boss have to complain about? And why the hell did she stay?

She’d gotten a job offer this week and he highly doubted it was the only one on the table. He’d be willing to bet that she’d have her choice of stories if only she’d give her boss the boot.

After he’d finished filling his plate he headed out to the long teak patio table and snagged a spot.

“Want another beer, Trevor?” Ronny held up a bottle.

“No, thanks.” He held up a bottle of water. Truth was he never had more than a glass of wine or a bottle of beer these days. One was enough to be social.

He knew it’d take a lot more than a couple of beers to get him drunk. In fact, he knew exactly what it’d take. But he would never chance it again.

“Where’s JJ?” Her father asked, taking a seat across from him.

“She had to take a phone call,” Cindy said.

Trevor turned in his seat and looked through the window. He saw her pacing back and forth through the entry way, her free hand making wild gestures. He didn’t want to interrupt, but she looked like she needed rescuing.

“I’ll check on her,” he said and stood up.

In the dim entryway their gazes met and she rolled her eyes. Then she held up a finger.

“Fine. I’ll take care of it. But not until later.” She paused and listened for another moment. “John, I’ve got to go.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear and stabbed a button with vicious intent. “That man is going to cause me to drink.”

“Want me to beat him up?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

“Would you? I’d be forever in your debt.” She snuggled close. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured if I came looking for you it might give you the excuse you needed to escape.”

“It worked perfectly.”

She tipped her head back and stared up at him. “Julia…” He couldn’t help but brush a kiss across her lips. “Don’t tempt me.”

She chuckled softly, her lush breasts rubbing against his chest. “Come on. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

So was he.

“Have you let Trevor read your book yet?” Greg asked.

Oh dear Lord, where was a sinkhole when you needed one to swallow you?

“Greg!” she snapped then clenched her teeth.

“What book?” Cindy and Trevor asked at the same time.

“You wrote a book?” her father asked. “That’s great!”

She’d known letting Greg read
Game Day
was a mistake. She should have made him pinky-swear that he wouldn’t tell a soul, just like she had when they’d been kids.

“What?” he asked, completely naive to the situation.

JJ tried not to squirm like a fish on a hook. It would only attract attention. “I wrote a book,” she said casually.

“When?” Cindy asked.

“Last year,” JJ mumbled.

Her pretty blonde friend stared at her from across the table and JJ tried in vain to read her mind.

“What's it about dear?” Mrs. Bradley asked.

“Sports, what else?” Greg said and gave a quick laugh.

What else? JJ frowned. Did he really think her life revolved around sports? That she couldn't write anything else? Well, it was either sports or flipping houses. Sports seemed like it’d sell better, so she supposed he had a point.

“Actually, it's about a football star who struggles to regain his life and performance level after his wife dies in a car accident.”

“What?” Trevor asked.

The word was so quiet, so haunted, she turned in her seat to look at him. He’d lost some color and his beautiful blue eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them.

She started to assure him that it was just a silly concept, entirely fictional. But as she glanced at him, she realized what a lie that would be. The kernel of the idea had hit her the moment she’d seen his press conference, confirming that he was leaving the Wolves.

Other than that, it was entirely fictional, but she’d fallen in love with her hero. Rooted for him as he tried to turn his life back around losing the woman he’d loved. Cheered for him as he’d found his form again and fought his way back to the top of his sport.

No. It wasn’t a silly concept. But the haunted look in Trevor’s eyes told her that something was wrong. Was he remembering his accident? He didn't jerk away from the hand she laid on his forearm, but she could tell he wanted to.

“It’s pretty romantic,” Greg said and JJ looked across the table at him. “You know. If you like that kind of thing.”

“I can’t wait to read it, peanut.”

“Me too,” Mrs. Bradley added.

Okay, enough about her and her book. Offering Trevor a quick smile she turned back to the table.

“Who wants cake?”

There was a quick round of “I do’s” and JJ pushed back her chair. She gathered her plate and carried it into the kitchen, aware that Cindy had followed her.

“Are you going to submit it anywhere? How long is it?”

“It's just over a hundred thousand words. And yes, it's being submitted.”

“Oh my God,” Cindy said, grasping JJ's upper arms. “You didn't hire one of those query services, did you? Those things are a rip off. And editors look down on authors who use them. You could get black listed.”

Frowning, JJ took a step back, breaking Cindy's hold. Boy she was wound up.

“No. I have an agent.”

Cindy's blonde brows skipped up her forehead. “You have an agent?”

“Yes.”

“And you're just telling me this now?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, rubbing a finger between her brows to ease the tension.

“Well,” Cindy said, putting a hand on her hip. “Who is it?”

JJ went to the cabinet by the sink and pulled out a tall stack of dessert plates. Cindy looked at her expectantly from across the kitchen island. She might as well get this over with. It's not like it was hush-hush anymore.

“Jessica Ross.”

“Jessica Ross?” Cindy's blonde eyebrows managed to crawl even higher. “The Jessica Ross from Ross & Company?”

JJ knew what a coup it was but she didn't want to seem braggy about it. Cindy had let her agent go two years ago.

JJ pulled a box of candles out of the drawer and scrounged around for a lighter.

“That must be a hell of a book.”

JJ shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise and unsure why. She’d worked hard on Game Play. Like every spare minute for months hard. And she was proud of the story, the characters, the message. “Jessica likes it. She said my first one had a rubbish plot.” She crinkled her nose at the memory.

“So this is your second book?”

Oops. “Yeah.”

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets anymore.”

After a particularly rough summer following college when Cindy and Baby had been secretly dating the same man…an older, married man, the four of them vowed ‘no more secrets.’

“I just didn’t want you to feel like I was stepping on your turf. And besides, wouldn’t it have been a nice surprise if I’d gotten it published and gave everyone a copy for Christmas?” She offered her friend a sincere smile.

“Is it erotic?”

“No.”

“Then how could you possibly step on my toes?” Cindy cocked her head and gave JJ the look.

“Let’s not make a big deal of it, Cin. You know how many books don’t sell. I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment.”

Plus, she knew how Cindy was. She ate, slept, and breathed publishing. She was the President of her erotica writers organization. She wrote articles and went to conventions. And when she wasn’t writing she was plotting promotion. Several times over the last five years Thursday night Girl’s Club had turned into help-Cindy-stuff-envelope parties.

JJ loved Cindy like the sister she never had…a bossy older sister. But she didn’t want to have to report in every Thursday night that no, she had not sold her book. All the while, they’d all be getting their hopes up on something that might never happen.

“All right.” Cindy sighed and skirted the island to give JJ a much needed hug. “But don’t think I’m not telling Gretchen and Baby so they can grill you.”

“Fair enough.” JJ laughed.