Love at the 20-Yard Line (2 page)

Chapter Two

Wide receiver Brody Jackson caught a pass and grinned. He spun the ball around in his big hands as he and his teammates warmed up before the first game of the season.

“Check out cougar town, dude,” he said, inclining his head toward the stands as a group of middle-aged women dressed in too much makeup and not enough clothes sashayed toward their seats.

“Ripe for the picking, man. Just your type,” Marcus Smith teased, smiling at Brody. The two of them were not only teammates, but also best friends.

“Hardly.” Brody glanced around the bleacher seats, searching for a girl that would fill the role of his type.

He’d dated blondes, brunettes, and redheads. He’d charmed tall girls, skinny girls, short girls, and voluptuously curved girls. Smart, pretty, sassy, and brainless - he was sure he’d dated just about every type of girl out there, but it was all in fun.

Not one girl had ever reached beyond the surface and touched his heart.

Brody planned to keep it that way.

Women were a distraction he could ill afford in his quest to play football with the pros. Someday his dream of playing at the Super Bowl would come true.

His current gig, playing with a well-respected arena football team, took him a step closer to making his dream a reality.

“How about that one?” Marcus asked pointing to a tiny redhead taking a seat in the sponsor section.

“Hmm. She’s got potential,” Brody said, not really interested in the girl. She looked so petite and fragile, he’d be afraid he might break something shaking her hand.

“Sure she does.” Marcus chuckled, then stopped and pointed to a girl taking off her coat near the redhead. “Now, talk about high maintenance, there it is.”

Brody glanced at the classy, polished girl who appeared as out of place at the game as he’d be at the symphony.

She wore a sleek black skirt and one of those sweater set things that looked all soft and expensive, even from across the field. Curly golden ringlets escaped from a bun at the back of her head and the glasses framing her eyes gave her a reserved air.

He couldn’t see her hands, but Brody would bet money she had long, fake nails and a gaudy ring on her left hand.

Under the assumption she was probably someone’s trophy wife, he looked away.

“You’re such an idiot.” Brody shook his head at Marcus. “I don’t want any part of that.”

Before they could further speculate on the dating material available at that night’s game, the coach motioned them off the field.

Excited as the first game of the season rolled into high gear, Brody played hard, having a great time. He waited for the quarterback to throw him a pass, flexed his long fingers, and took a deep breath.

With one eye on the guy planning to block the pass and the other on the quarterback, Brody grinned when the football spun through the air his direction. Leaping up, the ball went into his hand as if he’d tugged it by a string. He hit the ground running.

Although a tackle was coming, he pushed himself to keep going then absorbed the impact as he hit the turf at the twenty-yard line. Thrilled by the number of yards he covered, he lifted his gaze and looked straight into the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

For a moment, he forgot everything around him as he gazed behind the glasses and saw warmth in the girl’s eyes. She was the girl he and Marcus had joked about being high maintenance before the game started.

At this distance, a sweet innocence about her drew his attention. Something stirred deep within his heart, leaving him breathless.

When a hand clamped on his shoulder, he rolled over, coming up on his feet and tossing the ball to a referee. He smirked as his teammates slapped him on the back and Marcus lightly tapped twice on his helmet. It was their way of saying job well done.

The cheering crowd provided a shot of pure energy surging through Brody, driving him on as his team trounced their opponents.

Determined to keep thoughts of the blonde-haired girl with the soulful eyes from knocking him off his game, he continually found his gaze wandering her direction through the second quarter.

Glad for halftime and the opportunity to regroup, Brody blocked out the people around him and attempted to center his thoughts on winning the game.

“Dude, s’up with you?” Marcus asked as he bumped shoulders with Brody.

“Nothing, man. I’m cool.” Brody took a drink from a bottle the water boy handed him. He tipped back his head and closed his eyes, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. A pair of blue eyes immediately filled his vision so he opened his eyes and sat up straighter.

“You don’t look cool, bro. Something going on you need to tell ol’ Marcus about?” Marcus knew all of Brody’s moods and he could tell his buddy tossed some idea around in his head. They were far ahead of the visiting team and unless something disastrous occurred between now and the end of the fourth quarter, he was confident they’d win the game.

By rights, Brody should be on top of the world and shouting it from the rooftops. Instead, he frowned with worry lines etched across his forehead.

“I’m fine, man, but thanks for asking. You better pay attention to Coach and look snappy about it because he’s giving us the evil eye.” Brody grinned at the coach and nodded his head, pretending to listen to the direction they received for the last half of the game.

Further conversation ended as they headed back out to the field. While he waited to go out to play, Brody turned his gaze into the stands, trying to steal a glimpse of the mystery girl. She sat in the sponsor seats section, so if he wanted, he could ask the sales manager about her.

That smacked too much of an interest Brody was determined he wouldn’t admit to, though.

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed she sat sandwiched between two hulking guys who looked like twins. One of them tried to shove a mini doughnut dripping with chocolate topping in her face while the other waved a tray of nachos in front of her.

She shook her head and pushed at both of their hands. The one with the doughnut touched it to her mouth, forcing her to take a bite. Brody stood mesmerized as her tongue came out to lick away a drop of chocolate lingering on the corner of her pink lips.

Her glare settled on the guy with the nachos then she laughed at the one with the doughnut. Her face transformed as dimples filled her cheeks and the serious lines softened. She took the doughnut and ate it, licking the sticky frosting from her fingers. Brody had the most insane desire to do the same thing.

“Dude, you gonna play or not?” Marcus slapped Brody’s shoulder as the coach motioned him onto the field. Quickly grabbing his helmet, he gave himself a mental lecture about blocking out thoughts of the girl and focusing on the game.

Far ahead of the other team as the fourth quarter wound down, Brody stood waiting for the next play, doing his best to ignore the blonde sitting three rows up, two seats over, between the twin terrors. He wanted to beat the stuffing out of the guy who kept bumping her shoulder and trying to get her to share his drink.

When the man placed a hand on her arm and leaned closer to her ear, Brody clenched his fists to keep from climbing up the bleachers and knocking him unconscious.

Now the other one was saying something to her, but she seemed to like him, smiling at him with a look on her face that bordered on adoration. That particular twin turned to the redhead next to him and kissed her cheek.

Brody forcibly returned his attention to the game before he got involved in something that was none of his business. None at all.

He caught a pass seconds before the buzzer signaled the end of the game and ran to the end zone. The crowd went wild when he made the final touchdown.

The team shared a round of high-fives and congratulations. Brody returned to the bench and unearthed a pen, signing his name on the football. He removed his helmet and glanced up to see the girl who captivated his interest trying to put on her coat while one of the twins held the back of it against her seat. She had her arms in the sleeves, trapped by the big dolt.

Without giving it another thought, Brody jumped over the dasher boards surrounding the field. He ran up the steps and looked down at the girl and her friends.

“Hey, I thought you might like the ball from the last touchdown.” He held it out to the blonde staring at him as if he was speaking in tongues.

Up close, her skin resembled smooth porcelain and her eyes glowed behind the frames of her glasses. Springy curls escaped the messy bun on the back of her head and Brody battled a nearly irresistible urge to reach out and see if the golden strands felt like silk.

She rose to her feet and he experienced a moment of pleasant surprise to see she was considerably taller than the tiny redhead who stood next to one of the look-alike brothers. A whiff of a soft, tantalizing fragrance that raised his temperature several notches assaulted him as he leaned forward.

Brody continued to hold the ball out toward her. She worked her hand out of her coat sleeve and took it in a tentative grasp, offering him a polite smile. Relief washed through him to see no wedding ring adorned her left hand and her nails were, in fact, short and unpainted.

“Thank you, Mr. Jackson,” she said.

Brody felt inordinately pleased she at least knew his last name. “Call me Brody,” he said, accepting the hand held out to him by the more obnoxious of the two brothers. The two men definitely bore a strong resemblance to each other, but he could see they weren’t the same age as he originally thought.

“Congrats, man, that was a killer game. I’m Tom and this is my brother Hale.”

‘Thanks, man.” Brody shook hands with the second brother and smiled at the redhead.

“There’s a party starting in a while. You’d be welcome to come as my guests,” Brody offered, hoping for the chance to spend time with the blonde away from the field. If he had his way, he’d take her home instead of the Neanderthal duo.

“Please, Haven?” Tom asked, nudging her in the side with his elbow. “I promise we won’t stay too late.”

Although he hoped she would agree, the longing to punch her boyfriend returned with a vengeance. The guy treated her as if she was an annoying kid sister, not a beautiful woman who, for all appearances, seemed refined and very feminine.

He rolled her name around in his head. It suited her well, although he’d never heard of anyone named Haven.

Prepared to plead with her to go to the party, he looked into her face and could see fatigue around her eyes. He wouldn’t pressure her to go, but he wouldn’t let her leave without learning her full name. If he was so inclined, he wanted to know how to get in touch with her.

“What’s your name?” Brody mustered up his most charming smile. He’d been told when he used it, women practically fell at his feet, ready to do his bidding.

“Haven Haggarty.” Haven wondered why this particular player decided to bring her an autographed football and invite them to a party. Maybe it was something each player did for a corporate sponsor.

Despite the dull roaring of her headache, she was vividly aware of the very cute Brody Jackson out on the field. She’d watched him play with interest and noticed him gazing into the stands their direction but had no idea he was remotely aware of her or her brothers. Abby was a dazzling little beauty. Maybe she’d caught his eye.

In his uniform, Brody appeared incredibly tall and sinfully handsome. His jet-black hair was tousled and sweaty, but thick. His chiseled jaw ended with a firm, ridiculously square chin. Sensuously full lips and dark brown eyes added to his appeal, as did his deep voice, laced with a hint of gravel.

The symmetry of his face was perfect for modeling and she wondered if he’d ever considered posing for an ad campaign. She was always in need of good models for their clients.