At least, he'd thought he did.
But she'd surprised him. She'd surprised everyone. The moment she'd told Stu Thompson and his band of brothers off Trevor's heart had stalled in his chest. No one had ever stood up for him like that. Not his agent. Not his publicist. Everyone wanted all the gory details. They felt entitled to them.
But Julia understood. Not only had she understood she stood up for him. And now she’d probably get fired for it.
He continued watching the TV, waiting to see if JJ would return. Somehow he doubted it though. She’d gotten that adorable mulish look in her eyes that he loved so much. With the bit between her teeth, she could be stubborn when she needed to be.
But never had she been more gorgeous than when she was defending him on national television, her cheeks pink with fury. A true warrior-goddess.
“You sure are the talk of the town today my friend. That girl’s a keeper,” the bartender said.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He hopped off the bar and ran out of the airport as fast as his bum leg would carry him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
JJ stepped off the elevator and rooted around her purse for the key card.
“Would you see if you can get us on the next flight to New York,” she asked Joe.
“Sure.”
It surprised her how seamlessly he was fitting into her life. Watchful, protective without getting in her way.
“I’ve got it,” he said smoothly, as they stopped in front of the two bedroom suite. He pulled out a key card and had the door open a second later. Yep, he really was a handy shadow.
By now she knew the routine. He went in and checked the room before she or Trevor entered. Since she had no desire to come face to face with a deranged stalker, she leaned against the wall and pulled out her cell phone, intending to text Trevor.
“What the hell, JJ?”
She spun around and saw John striding down the hallway.
Oh, this just got better and better.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, not bothering to hide her frown or her hostility. She’d known he was going to be at the game, but this hotel? Trevor had upgraded them to Hotel Drisco for added protection.
Never mind what he was doing here. It’d save her a trip to his office Monday.
“I can’t believe you just walked out of an interview...” He stopped right in front of her, a little too close for her comfort level. Had his wide set eyes always been that wild? She could smell alcohol on his breath and realized he must have been partying with somebody. A player? Fellow journalists?
“Julia—”
She jerked her head toward Trevor’s voice. He came toward her all broad shoulders and corded muscle, like a bull storming down the streets of Spain. Her heart tripped over itself. She’d never been so happy to see him before.
And now that she knew he was safe, adrenaline gave her self-confidence a boost.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned to her soon-to-be ex-boss. “It wasn’t my interview to give. I told you that.”
Trevor was at her side an instant later and she felt his fury through the palm he slid along her back. She leaned into his touch.
“Still looking for that interview John?” Trevor asked.
“Trev—” JJ started.
“Absolutely, Mr. Wyatt.” The change in her boss was amazing. He seemed to straighten, pull his shoulders back and turn on the charm all at once.
There was no way she was letting Trevor give this weasel an interview. JJ let out a breath lest she hyperventilate, feeling like a momma bear backed into a corner.
“He can interview my fist,” Joe said, deadly quiet, from just over her left shoulder. She whipped her head around and saw the hardness chiseled in his features. Wow. When it came to intimidation, Joe wrote the book.
John’s eyes bugged out.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Trevor added.
John gulped, gaped and then he was back on the attack. He shoved a finger at JJ. “You’re fired!”
JJ’s temper snapped. She started to smack his finger out of her face, but latched onto it instead, bending it back just enough to bring him to his knees. He cried out, cursing, begging for her to release him.
Her brother’s had always insisted she know how to defend herself, she thought with a smirk. “Didn’t your momma ever teach you not to point at a lady? News flash you big bully, you now owe me a severance package or I’ll see you in court for wrongful termination. My lawyer will see to that. I’ll expect it by the end of the week. And you can write your own articles for the playoffs.”
She released him and he fell forward, gripping his finger. “Joe, would you be a peach and take out the trash.”
“My pleasure.” He grabbed John by the scruff of the neck and pulled him to his feet as if he weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.
High on adrenaline, she didn’t wait for them to disappear around the corner before she glanced up at Trevor and jerked her thumb toward their suite. “You. Inside.”
Trevor looked a little startled by her order but followed her. She led him into their bedroom and pushed him onto the end of the bed, all the while trying to ignore how big and warm he was. After dropping her purse onto the dresser she turned to the big brute who held her heart.
“I’ve had just about enough testosterone to last me a while. So here’s the deal. You and me…” She pointed from him to her and back again a few times. “We’re a team. I’m upgrading you to quarterback. Joe’s going to be your left tackle and watch your back. Me. I’m going to be the cheering section. You got me? I’m done with this tiptoeing around business—” She used her fingers to make a walking motion. “Afraid I’ll say something to upset you or bring that night crashing back around your ears. You’re right, you are a tough guy and you can handle it. But more importantly, we’re going to handle whatever comes our way, together.”
She took a deep breath and studied his stunned expression. Satisfied that she’d gotten that point across, she continued. “When we first met, I was crazy attracted to you. You were funny and witty and charming and too darned gorgeous for your own good. And you knew it. You might have been out of your wild child phase, but I wasn’t about to be a mark in your bedpost. And I didn’t want to share you with the world, Trevor. I still don’t. So I kept myself in check and you kept dating bimbos. But I understand now that this wildly popular man is just who you are. This is who you will always be… a legendary football star that millions of people love and respect. And I get that. Because I love and respect you. But I love and respect you differently, because I
know
you. I know you’re strong and you’re tough and you’re a nice guy who inspires little kids. And I know that every time you think about that night you feel the fear all over again. How could you not? I know when you talk about it you think everyone’s going to look at you funny because somehow they’ll know just how scared you were and how angry you were that you didn’t see it coming and how you wish, almost more than anything that you could have somehow saved that crazy woman from herself. And I know that you feel the weight of her death on your shoulders and somehow think you were just a teensy bit responsible. And it hurts you that not only did you lose your career but your best friend as well.”
“Julia—” he said on a groan.
“I’m not done yet. You’ve wound me up and now you’re gonna have to let me talk.” She settled into his lap, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I don’t care if you tell the world about your stalker or not. But I
do
care if you let that experience mess up what we have. What we have the potential to have. This latest… whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. I know you’re scared for me and you wouldn’t be the man you are if you didn’t. But we can handle it. Together. I don’t care if we have to clone Joe into a whole security team or move to the middle of nowhere. What matters is you and me. I like Joe by the way, so you’re not going to let him go whenever you feel like it.”
He laughed at her abrupt change in topic.
“And since I no longer work for CSN, we’re gonna go to today’s game and have a good time. You and me, on a date. A perfect date. And if anyone looks at us funny, we’ll just smile and wave. You don’t owe them a thing. I certainly don’t owe them a thing. Then we’ll head back to Atlanta and I’m going to start writing Moody’s story. Greg and I will finish the loft and put it up for sale and I’ll decide if I want to keep flipping houses. In the meantime I’m going to shack up with you in that big house and travel with you to your appearances. And we’ll host the best Super Bowl party ever.”
He silenced her with a kiss. “How about a Fairchild-Wyatt Super Bowl Extravaganza?” he asked a few minutes later, then trailed his lips down her throat.
“That’s just what I was thinking.” Happiness fizzed through her blood like champagne bubbles and she couldn’t help but let out a delighted giggle.
“I love you Julia. I’m sorry if I’ve given you less than one hundred percent.” Those blue eyes were so sincere she almost melted on the spot.
“As long as you promise to trust me, trust us, in the future, I’ll let you make it up to me.”
His dimple made an appearance. “Is this gonna cost me another trip to the shoe store?”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Not at all.”
Tightening her arms around his shoulders, she leaned close to his ear. “I was thinking you could start by making love to me. And maybe do that thing you do with your tongue,” she whispered and then tugged on his earlobe with her teeth.
She felt his cock flex beneath her thighs.
“The cotton candy thing?”
“Yeah… the cotton candy thing. Think you’ve still got what it takes to make me melt?”
“Sweetheart, you know it.”
JJ loved a man who was true to his word. Most of all, she loved him.
* * *
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed meeting Trevor and JJ. I had so much fun telling their story and getting to know them, their friends and family.
If you enjoyed ASK FOR IT I’d appreciate it if you would leave a review where you bought your copy. Goodreads, Shelfari, and LibraryThing are also great places to post reviews and meet other readers. And if you’re on Facebook or Twitter, how about giving Trevor and JJ a shout out?
As always, I love hearing from my readers so if you have something you want to say, email me at
[email protected]
.
Be sure to sign up for my mailing list and get five (5) free reads! That’ll also make you eligible to beta read for me and get you access to the Members’ Only lounge.
http://site.selena-blake.com/members
Whose story do you want to read about next? Email me.
Happy reading,
Selena
Looking for another fun contemporary romance? Let me recommend Slow Burn by Madison Chase. Here’s an excerpt.
“We’re here with Crystal Reed, librarian, author and stripper. Welcome to the show, Crystal.”
Crystal gave Garrett Vartan a quick once over. Despite wearing headphones that gave him elephant ears the man was simply…stunning.
“Thanks for having me, Garrett.”
She hoped her voice didn’t sound too breathless or husky, but she could feel her breath catch in the back of her throat as she watched his gorgeous lips move. The rich timbre of his voice as he said her name pulled her forward in her seat. She didn’t want to miss anything about him.
Focus, Crystal.
This was the last stop on her tour to promote her new book, and she had to make a good impression. She’d been all over the country in the past two months, and now she was back home in Miami. Well, as home as the sweltering south Florida city could be. As soon as this interview was over she could head back to her condo for some much needed R&R.
“Let’s talk a little about your background. You’ve got a degree in library sciences.”
“It’s actually a Masters in Library and Information Science. A great program at University of Illinois.”
“Why did you want to become a librarian?”
Hadn’t she heard that exact same question at least sixty times in that last two months? Forcing a smile, because a smile could always be heard in someone’s voice, she gave her carefully crafted answer.
“I love books. I love learning. Books and knowledge are our future. Not many people in this day in age realize that. I did, so I wanted to be a part of that future. Build the foundation, if you will.”
“So you went to school, moved south and became a librarian. When did you become a stripper?”
She was surprised he didn’t sound condescending or horny, like so many of the other male interviewers had been.
“While I was finding a job as a librarian, actually. As you can imagine there aren’t a terrible amount of librarian positions open around here, so I had to wait until a job opened up. I needed to pay the bills. Stripping does that.”
“Now, how did you make the jump between reading books to stripping? For those who haven’t seen Ms. Reed’s picture on our website, let me describe her for you. She’s got incredible white blonde hair. It looks natural—”
“It is,” she injected smoothly, her lips curving into a smile. Her confidence boosted north a bit.
“Blue eyes the color of the waters just off of Key West. Glossy lips the color of raspberries. Tall, lean figure and a killer tan. If you want more details than that, you’ll have to visit our Web site.”
“Interesting description Garrett. My lip-gloss is actually called Wet Raspberry.”
She could have sworn she heard him groan.
“So tell us, how did you make the jump? Because honestly, you don’t look like any librarian I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” And she did, because he sounded so sincere. “Actually, a comment just like that started it all. I needed a job. One of my friends—she knows who she is—said that I don’t look like a librarian but I could make lots of money as a stripper. I laughed at it for a while, but like most everything I do, I researched it.”
“You researched stripping?” He raised an eyebrow.