Game On! (Seaside Heat) (2 page)

GiGi painted her lips with a coral gloss. “It’s been over a year now, Jordan. No one will recognize you. The media is feeding on some other poor soul now.”

She could only hope.

After making their way to the pier, Jordan checked out the surf zone. Only a few young teens and old dudes on longboards bobbed in the ocean. The surf lacked the exciting swells necessary to attract anyone hot enough for GiGi. She should have relented and gone to Virginia Beach.

“Let’s cruise.” GiGi shouldered her beach bag stuffed with towels, drinks and their cell phones. They sank their toes into the sand at the water’s edge. “Looks like mommies’ day out with the kiddies.” She grumbled.

“Says the huntress.” Jordan kept walking toward the less crowded fishing area hoping to find GiGi something to stalk.

“I want confirmation this new bikini is worth the money.” GiGi thrust out her tits and swayed her hips.

Jordan glanced up, snagging a spiraling football inches from their heads. The ball stung her fingers with a slap.

GiGi squeaked, dropping her bag with their drinks.

“Sorry!” The intended receiver stood in the surf.

“Jesus! My bad!” The passer grimaced.

At least he had the decency to appear embarrassed.

Mr. Sandy Blond rushed from the water toward them. Damn. He had all the attributes of her favorite NFL tight end. Aviator shades hid his eyes. His brawny shoulders tapered to a waist set off by a six-pack.

“You okay?” His gaze followed GiGi’s to the bottles littering the beach. “Oh. Sorry about your drinks. He plucked the brews and wine coolers from the sand. “Wouldn’t open these for a bit.”

GiGi eyed their buff physiques and smirked. “Suppose you’ll have to share yours.” She nodded to their cooler.

“Not a problem.” The dark-haired passer motioned to his beach chair.

But of course, her model-looking friend was always first pick. Jordan handed the ball to the blond. More to her tastes anyway. The stripe on his board shorts accentuated his well-carved butt.

He extended his hand. “Heath.”

“Miller?” Jordan asked. Almost as tall and as muscular as the pro tight-end. A definite hard-body. He might have been threatening-looking if not for his endearing dimples and genuine smile.

He enveloped her hand with a firm grip. “Sorry, no. Lancaster is my last name, but you’d make a heck of a cornerback the way you picked off that pass.”

Electrified by his touch, her thoughts fired in directions she’d been dodging for months. “Jordan, sister to three older brothers. I can tackle, too, if necessary.” She grinned.

He let out a low whistle.

* * * *

Enthralled by her spunky comeback, Heath offered Jordan his beach chair then dropped cross-legged on the sand.

Wavy, reddish brown hair spilled over toned shoulders to an athletic, yet shapely figure. He liked women with some curves. Her sunglasses hid the feature he sought most.

Dugan dug in the cooler, popped tops on two cool ones and passed them to their guests. “Sorry ladies. Didn’t see y’all. Heath and I had been throwing passes on the fly. I’d just turned and fired.”

“I’m GiGi.” She accepted the brew and winked at Dugan’s come on.

Heath had seen Dugan raise his eyebrow after the flubbed pass. The dog―make that hound. GiGi might be totally oblivious to his farce, but Heath suspected Jordan wasn’t so easily deceived.

Dugan complimented GiGi on her bikini and gestured for her to take his chair.

“So are you vacationing?” Heath asked Jordan.

“Nope, born and raised here.” She tipped back her beer “I assume you guys are?”

Saying he played for the Tritons was a gamble. “Dugan and I just started a job in the area. There’s a probationary period, so we’re renting a house near here.”

“You didn’t want a place on the strip along Virginia Beach?”

“Rent is steep there.” Heath raked his fingers through the warm sand wondering if she lived nearby. “I like it here. Got a decent ocean view from the rental. I can sneak through the neighbors’ yards for a swim, or come down here if I’m feeling social.”

“Are you normally a hermit?” She wrinkled her nose and laughed.

“More like picky with whom I spend time.” He winked and grabbed a beer.

Her subsequent grin sent his heart rate climbing. He liked her sarcasm and her cute, slightly upturned nose.

She leaned forward, flipped up her shades and claimed him with a pair of wide, honey-brown eyes. “Me too.”

Arousal snaked through his belly. Thankful for concealing trunks, he shifted. It’d been a long two months of practice with no sex.

Beautiful Jordan. A summer fling? Or more trouble? Heath’s body demanded what his mind cautioned against. Then again, there wasn’t anything wrong with having a meal with her. “So would I meet your standards for dinner out?”

“Possibly. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I hear a southern inflection in your voice.” Her smile reached her mesmerizing eyes.

“I’m originally from South Carolina, darlin’.”

The moment he said darling, Jordan sank back in the beach chair. Gooseflesh pimpled her arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “That was forward.”

“Just a sudden chill from the beer.” She waved off his concern.

He didn’t buy it.

“Hey you two, let’s do dinner and then drinks.” GiGi’s fingers traced along Dugan’s shoulders in silent invitation.

“Sorry, got an early morning tomorrow. I need to get my car from your place.” Jordan eyed GiGi.

Heath had never tanked with a woman by calling her darling. How could the mere endearment piss her off more than almost nailing her with a football?

Dugan stood. “You sure, Jordan? Thought GiGi and you could show us your favorite spots along the Virginia Beach strip.”

“Some other time.”

Which meant never. Heath rose and offered his hand to Jordan.

After a second of indecision, she accepted.

Heath wrapped her cold fingers in his heated palm. She seemed frightened. Damn. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She loosened her hand from his. “Thanks for the beer.”

Polite. A kiss-off none the less. He’d felt some chemistry between them. A wrong word and he’d been banished.

Jordan latched her seat belt as GiGi started the car. A perfect beach day and she’d been having a great time. One stupid word shot her into flight mode.

Darling.

Her gut reaction to the endearment proved the Richard fiasco still controlled her life. Damn him. She gritted her teeth, hating how he’d jaded her view of men. If she hadn’t been so gullible, she wouldn’t have become news fodder as a business man’s plaything. She’d lost her self-esteem, ability to trust, and nearly her livelihood.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, Jordan?” GiGi followed the black Jeep to the beach house. “You were into him.”

“Just not ready to go there, G.”

“He’s hot as fuck. They’re new in town. Ride him like a stallion and be done.” She popped the clutch and jerked the car into third gear.

Jordan had worn down the last of GiGi’s patience. “Sorry, I’m not like you.”

“No, you don’t give anyone a chance anymore. The first wrong word and you dismiss people like they’re not good enough.”

Like your mother.
Gigi didn’t say it, but the message rang loud and clear. Hiding her fear had turned her into a hardass.

Heath turned into the next driveway. The sleek black four-by-four reminded Jordan of her eldest brother’s ride. She missed rides on the beach down on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Good times. She’d love to return to that simple life.

GiGi stopped the car at the end of their driveway.

Dugan swaggered his beefy self to the driver’s side and leaned on the door.

Enthused with the jock, GiGi chatted him up like a teen.

Heath grabbed the cooler from the back of his vehicle and then glanced her way. “Nice meeting you, Jordan.” Barefoot and shirtless, he waved and turned for the house.

Without an explanation, she’d blown an opportunity with a seemingly nice guy with an amazing body. One man had ruined an endearing word that another’s sexy and southern pronunciation had her shivering with desire.

Take a chance. She might wind up being his vacation playmate, but at least it would be her choice. As long as he wasn’t a liar and deceiver like Richard. Taking GiGi’s advice, Jordan rose from the low sports car and followed him up the driveway. She reached him as he was about to enter the outside shower. “Heath.”

Surprised blue eyes questioned her.

“I’m sorry. I overreacted. Someone used to call me darling.”

His jaw tensed. “Someone who hurt you.”

She studied her flip-flops.

“I know where you’re coming from.” He grasped her hand.

So strong. His closeness unnerved her, yet his magnetic gaze enticed her. Beyond his handsome features, he emanated a protective nature that encouraged her to trust.

Her brothers were the same. They could tease her, but let someone else mess with her. She tightened her fingers around his. “Thanks for understanding.”

Her knuckles tingled against the stroke of his thumb.

The tender touch sent Jordan’s pulse surging. A relationship wasn’t in her cards at the moment, but meeting Heath for a quick meal would merely be hospitable to a visitor. “How about lunch sometime?”

“Sunday brunch?” He arched a questioning brow.

Not leaving their date to chance, either. She admired his determination and mentally hash-marked his effort to the plus side of her teacher grading chart.

* * * *

With a date set, Heath headed into the shower and latched the plywood door. A horn toot signaled the girls had left.

Beneath the steam, he lathered his skin. Since he’d arrived in Virginia, sex hadn’t made it into his playbook. He’d spent his free time practicing, learning the team’s plays, and recharging his body.

Jordan reminded him he missed women. His thickening cock refused to be ignored. Hot water sluiced between his ass cheeks. The sensation tightened his balls as he took his shaft in hand.

Heat flooded his groin. Bracing a hand against the wall in front of him, he envisioned her pert and full breasts. How would they taste? He’d love to make her moan as he buried himself to the hilt between her toned thighs.

A familiar tightening gathered in his sac as he erupted in thick streams. He closed his eyes and let the release take him. Leaning against the shower wall, he exhaled as his muscles relaxed. Calm washed over him.

It seemed like forever ago that he felt a true connection with a woman. Of course with his luck, he’d clicked with someone who’d been burned and was twice shy. What asshole had screwed her over? The dick and his ex, Sandy, should team up.

* * * *

Jordan parked in front of the Centerville Café, a place she’d frequented most of her life. She retrieved her cell phone from her bag. No sign of Heath’s jeep. Cursing her promptness, she checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her clingy top felt too snug and her shorts too short.

Would he show? Probably wondering which personality she’d have today after her freak show on the beach. The guys who had shown interest in her since Richard, she hadn’t given a second thought. Heath’s romantic effect on Jordan had her stumped. She never went for jocks.

A blaring rock tune vibrated from a vehicle pulling into the space next to her.

Heath’s mouth moved in sync to the Shinedown song.

One of her favorite bands.

If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he chanted a mantra. He definitely wasn’t singing. On the crescendo of the last notes, she stepped out of her car.

He slid from his Jeep and jerked his head in her direction. “Hey, didn’t see you there.”

“We have similar taste in music.” She smiled. His pecs and biceps bulged beneath his Tidewater Tritons football t-shirt. A football fan and obviously already aware of the area’s new team.

“You like Nickelback, too?” He shoved his keys in his shorts pocket.

“Chad’s voice is like sex.”

Heath swallowed. “Noted. Ready to eat? Uh, I mean…”

Jordan giggled.

“Bad girl, you’re taking that the wrong way. Trying to get me all riled up?” He offered his arm.

“Not intentionally.” Impressed by his manners, she clasped his rock-hard bicep.

He blushed through his tan. After opening the door, he followed her inside.

The staff would probably be shocked to see her with a date instead of her parents or GiGi.

* * * *

He followed the hostess and Jordan to a gingham-covered table next to a window.

Homey. He held out Jordan’s chair. Her clean linen scent reminded him of helping his mother hang clothes on the line when he was young. Jordan’s hair had the same copper tints as his mom’s. He sat beside her.

The hostess took their drink orders.

Not sure what to say, he fiddled with the cloth napkin. “Glad you didn’t change your mind.”

“I don’t go back on promises.” Her face brightened in the morning sunlight.

A stocky, black man wearing a chef’s coat approached and smiled. “Jordan, who is your new friend?”

“Heath Lancaster.” He stood and extended his hand.

“Heath, this is Reggie. He’s the owner.”

The man offered a firm handshake. “Your name sounds familiar.”

“I’m new to the area.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

“Yep. And the same face I’ve seen on the Tidewater Tritons’ website. Just read they have you practicing as tight end.” He grinned.

Round-eyed, Jordan leaned forward in her seat.

A second strike five minutes into their meal. He took his seat hoping she’d allow him to explain. “A fan of the team already?”

“I’ve got season tickets,” Reggie said. “And with the big boys on strike, you guys might be the only football we’ll get this season. Enjoy your meal and good luck to you, Heath.” He nodded. “Jordan, thanks for bringing your new friend.”

Wearing a you-lying-shit glare, she plucked her napkin off the table and flung out the utensils. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Judging by the look I’m getting now?” He leaned back, wondering why his being on the Tritons pissed her off. “Never.”