Out Of Bounds: Risky Game Part 4

"It seems we've reached an impa.s.se." His tone was lethal, with a hint of resignation. Not surprisingly, it galled him not to get his way. Shay took no pleasure in her small victory.

"Please, you have to trust me. I swear I won't say anything to anyone."

Brody contemplated her for a moment, his eyes hard, before he slowly crossed the room. Shay had to work to keep her knees from buckling, but she held her ground. He stopped before her, leaving a few scant inches between them.

"I don't trust you, Texas." He reached up, gently tracing a finger along her cheek. The breath hitched in her chest. "Like I said before, you're a conundrum. Only not so fascinating anymore. Just threatening."

Shay swallowed as her heart plummeted to the soles of her feet. Survival of the fittest, she told herself. Still, despite years of being the lesser choice, the U-turn of his opinion smarted.

"Are you gonna kiss her?" Maddox's question caused them both to jump apart again.

He stood in the doorway, a well-read copy of Harry the Dirty Dog in one hand and a stuffed elephant in the other. Brody looked over at the boy and then back at Shay, his face giving away nothing. "No," Brody said, the single word a punch to her gut.

He paused on his way out of the door. "We'll resolve this tomorrow. One way or another." He gave Maddox a terse nod. "Sleep tight, buddy."

Shay figured Maddox might be the only one of them who would be sleeping that night.

THE GIRLFRIENDS' GUIDE TO THE NFL Well, girlfriends, it seems our favorite fantasy football player has indeed satisfied his sweet tooth and sworn off Candi. The game's finest tight end-and it is fine-was caught in a serious lip lock with a new lady last night. Check out this cell phone video. Number eighty and a mystery woman were steaming up the windows of the deli counter, if you know what I mean. But the story just gets better. According to my sources, Brody was playing kissy face with one of the team's interns, a graduate student named Shannon Everett. Ms. Everett is the not-so-identical twin sister of Dallas Cowboys cheerleader Teryn Everett, seen here shaking her, um, pom-poms. It just begs the question: Brody, did you know which sister you were kissing? Or, could this Blaze player be consorting with the enemy?

Six.

The woman is diabolical, Brody thought to himself as he stormed through the halls of the practice facility Wednesday morning. Not only had Shannon made herself scarce the entire day before, but she'd managed to feed that blogger a c.o.c.kamamie story about the two of them being involved. Sure, he'd initiated their kiss, but he'd obviously played right into her plans. He'd look like a fool if he tried to get her fired now. Little Miss Texas might think she had the upper hand, but she was about to find out that Brody had a brain, too.

"Dang, Sha-nay-nay," DeShawn was saying as Brody entered the commissary. "You've been holding out on us. You've got a twin sister? And she's a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader?" He whistled and the rest of the players and staff congregated around Shannon laughed.

Shannon stood tall amid their teasing; the ever-present ugly hairnet perched on her head as she doled out protein shakes to the players for their midmorning snack. She made each shake individually according to the player's tastes and nutritional needs and they'd become something of a daily inst.i.tution among his teammates. Brody doubted the other guys knew she had a nutrition background; they just liked the effort she put into making them taste great.

"We don't even play the Cowboys this year, Shay," Jamal Hollis whined. "But you gotta find a way for me to meet her."

"Does she have a boyfriend?" another player asked.

"What does that matter? She hasn't met me yet," Jamal said. The other players laughed at his rookie exuberance.

"Finally, you develop some taste in women," a voice at Brody's shoulder said.

Biting back his denial, Brody didn't bother turning to acknowledge Blaze defensive captain Will "William the Conqueror" Connelly, instead keeping his focus on Shannon. It was better not to make eye contact with the cerebral linebacker who had a way of knowing the truth just by looking at a guy. Except of course when the truth had bit Connelly on his behemoth a.s.s a few months ago.

"I'd say the same about you, but then you wouldn't still be married to your beautiful wife if I hadn't talked some sense into you."

Connelly scoffed. "As if." He was quiet for a moment. "She's not your usual fare, Brody. A woman like that can get hurt easily."

"Whatever you're trying to say, Connelly, just spit it out." Unfortunately, Brody knew exactly what the linebacker was saying. It burned a little to know his friend bought into the premise that Brody was a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of guy. He couldn't very well tell Connelly there was no relationship, though. Brody had decided to live by the adage, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. As long as Shannon knew his secret, he needed to keep a strict eye on her. Her little lie to the blogger provided the perfect opportunity to do just that.

"Just be gentle with her heart, that's all. She's a nice girl trying to make something of herself."

Brody didn't have to wonder why Connelly empathized with Shannon. From what he could discern, the two had similar backgrounds.

Nate Dumas joined in among the players surrounding Shannon. "And that a.s.shole doesn't help matters," Connelly muttered.

"One sister is a hot Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and the other is . . . not," Nate bellowed to the crowd. "It's kind of like Gisele Bndchen and her twin sister. One of them got all the good looks and the other just got the brains, I guess."

"Tell me he didn't just say that," Connelly growled.

Brody didn't stick around to answer him, instead making a beeline to where Shannon stood, her face expressionless. It was one thing for Brody to want to chew her up one side and down the other, but Nate Dumas was not going to get the satisfaction of dissing her.

"Are you saying Sha-nay-nay isn't pretty, Dumas?" DeShawn asked, going toe-to-toe with the trainer.

Brody had a newfound respect for the running back for sticking up for her, but he'd rather fight his own battles. He stepped between DeShawn and Nate, giving the trainer a measured glance before turning to Shannon. Despite a pinched look about her mouth, she showed no outward reaction to anything being said about her. Undoubtedly, she'd heard it all before-many times judging by the extent of her composure. But Brody didn't have time to contemplate her mental toughness. He had a score to settle with Shannon, and for that, he needed privacy.

Donning his best Janik charm, he slipped into the role of devoted boyfriend. "Hey guys, can I borrow Shannon for a minute?" His teammates let out a few snickers and knowing grins as Brody reached for her hand. A wild jolt shot up his arm the instant his fingers slid between hers, totally catching him off guard. The only reaction from her was a quick intake of breath.

"Whoa," Nate called from behind them. "See, this is why I have a problem with romance in the workplace."

"You have a problem with romance, period," DeShawn mumbled.

"You two can't just go trotting off for a little nooky while she's on the clock," Nate continued.

Brody wasn't aware he'd turned around until Shannon squeezed his hand-hard-halting his progress toward the loudmouthed trainer.

"For crying out loud, Dumas, she's an intern. She's not on the clock." Connelly crossed his arms over his ma.s.sive chest, treating Nate to his patented menacing stare.

Nate shrugged. "Hey, I'm not the one writing the checks, but I do sign off on her school credit hours."

Shannon's whole body stiffened next to Brody's.

"Go. Take your five minutes, you two. Just try to keep it G-rated for the video cameras in the storage room." Nate laughed as he slithered out of the commissary, leaving behind a group of players shaking their heads at him.

Before Brody knew what was happening, Shannon pulled her hand from his grip and marched over to the storeroom behind the kitchen. By the time he crossed the threshold, she was searching the four corners of the small s.p.a.ce.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I wouldn't put it past that vermin to have video cameras in here," she said from behind a steel shelf.

Brody closed the door, leaning up against it. "Wouldn't that be convenient? Then you could sell that blogger audio and video."

"I told you I didn't sell anything to that blogger."

Brody crossed his arms over his chest. "Really? Because yesterday's story was certainly conveniently timed."

Shannon looked up from her inspection. "You think I sold that information? For pity's sake, Brody, there were at least ten customers in that store with their cell phone cameras out. All of them ready to auction your story to the highest bidder. Believe me, it isn't me that blogger was interested in. I'm just as much the victim here, you know. Now everyone thinks I'm involved with a football player." The last two words were uttered with disgust.

It bothered Brody that fans were so eager to sell him out for cash; worse, that some mystery blogger was exploiting his celebrity and that of his friends. But the second part of Shannon's denial bothered him even more.

"Have you got a problem with football players? That would make you the first woman I've met who does."

Shannon rolled her eyes, mimicking him by crossing her arms under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s drawing his attention to them like a laser. They may be small, but they were perky and the sight was doing a number on his body.

"Then give me a medal, Brody. I grew up in Texas. You can't fling a cat there without hitting a football player. I'm immune." She took a step closer. "Let's move on to something else. How dare you stalk me at my home yesterday, annoying my neighbors."

Brody had to mentally shake himself to catch up. "I told you the other night we'd discuss our situation yesterday. But you had a great time dodging me."

"Well, golly, Brody, did you expect me to sit around all day and wait for you to just drop by when it was convenient for you? I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I actually had work to do yesterday. Not everyone jumps when you say so."

She was beginning to royally p.i.s.s him off. "Oh, we all know how industrious you are, Shannon. And for the record, I wasn't annoying your neighbors. They actually like football players."

Again with the eye roll.

"Maddox is seven and his father is deployed five-thousand miles away. Of course he likes you. Especially when you show up with all kinds of Blaze gear. But you bullied poor Mrs. Elder to no end."

"That woman?" Brody hadn't bullied anyone, least of all the little old lady. He'd merely pointed out the need for some safety and security measures if she were going to watch children in her apartment. She'd told him in no uncertain terms that the only safety and security measures she needed was her cane. That was before she'd nearly taken out a lamp and some china figurines demonstrating her stealth with the stupid thing. "She shouldn't be babysitting those kids. She's one cat short of being a crazy cat lady!"

Shannon opened her mouth, presumably to defend her batty neighbor, but no sound emerged. Somehow they were standing inches apart again, her warm palms flat on his chest, his hands kneading her shoulders, their breathing fractured. She smelled like berries and vanilla, the ingredients from her protein shakes, and Brody wanted nothing more than to lap her up. Cameras or not, he began calculating the best way to lay her down on the storeroom floor and show her a thing or two about football players. He reached up to trace his finger along her jaw. His gut clenched when he caught sight of her damp eyes.

"You have to believe me," she whispered. "I didn't tell the blogger anything. I couldn't. I wouldn't." She swallowed. "I swear I won't tell anyone your secret, Brody. I'm very trustworthy. Please. I need the internship credits. There aren't any other slots left. Believe me, I tried yesterday."

Once again, those whiskey eyes were nearly his undoing. His body wanted desperately to believe her, but his head was telling him not to trust her. Not to trust anyone. She was definitely a conundrum. But right now, she was his conundrum.

He touched his forehead to hers and sighed. "We might be able to work something out."

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Brody."

Well, he hadn't heard that too many times in his life. Brody pulled back. "That wasn't what I had in mind," he lied. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm just not into women in hairnets."

Shay took a giant step back, whipping the stupid hairnet off her head, trying to smash down her wild hair. Of course he wasn't attracted to her. He was just toying with her, to get her to do . . . what exactly? Certainly not sleep with her. Although she'd lied when she said she wouldn't sleep with him. Worse, he knew it. Because, honestly, what women wouldn't sleep with Brody Janik? She really, really needed to master thinking before speaking.

Brody leaned a shoulder against the metal shelf, his lazy smile making her uneasy. She was cloistered in a storeroom with People magazine's s.e.xiest Man Alive and she needed to get out of there before she said-or did-something else foolish.

"Can we just get this breakup over with here?" She crushed the hairnet in her fist.

He arched an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

Shay heaved a sigh. "Look, we can't very well deny we were kissing-it's all over the Internet. I have no problem with you telling everyone you were drunk or confused and didn't know what you were doing. As long as I'm left alone to finish out my internship."

Brody's expression remained bland. "No."

"No?" Shay was exasperated now. "Fine. I'll dump you. I'll tell everyone you were a dud, proving my point about all football players."

He bristled at that. "Not gonna happen, either."

"Oh, this is ridiculous, Brody. We're arguing over something that isn't even true. Just tell everyone the whole thing was a joke or something and let it go at that." She made for the door, but he grabbed hold of her wrist.

"We're not breaking up," he said evenly.

"There's nothing to break up! We're not a couple."

"No, but we're going to use this little farce as a cover."

A shiver pa.s.sed through her body. She wasn't sure if it was caused by fear or something else. "A cover? For what?"

"You know something that I don't want other people to know. I don't trust you with that secret. As it happens, I'm in need of a personal chef with experience in nutrition. Someone who can help me control my blood sugar." He nodded at her. "It's really a win-win situation. For me at least."

Shay tried to process what he was saying. He'd keep her secret about being in the locker room if she'd keep his. In return, she had to prepare his meals for him. It seemed like a straightforward plan. Except for the part about being around him. That might not be so straightforward given how her body reacted every time he was near.

"You won't trust that I'll keep your secret, but you will trust me in your home? A place where I'll have access to lots of your other secrets?"

"One step ahead of you, Texas." He pulled an envelope from his pocket. "I took the liberty of having my agent draw up an agreement. One that holds you libel if any personal information about me is leaked to the press. If you squeal, I'll ruin you."

Shay doubted that. She and her family were pretty close to ruination already. He unfolded the doc.u.ment, laying it on the shelf in front of her. As she scanned the page, her lungs seized.

"The Platinum Palace?" she whispered. "How did you know about Mama's salon?"

"Thank your blogger friend. All it took was a few keystrokes for my agent to find what he needed. The Internet is a powerful tool, even for us football players."

Mama had dedicated her whole life to the Platinum Palace. At first doing hair was just a side job-her daily dose of gossip and gab-while she raised Shay and her twin, Teryn. But then Daddy got kicked in the head by a cutting horse that just didn't want to be broke. The blow left him with the mental faculties of a senile old man. It left Mama with a mountain of medical bills and other debts her daddy had run up and no income. She'd mortgaged the Palace to the hilt, working full-time to turn it into a steady income stream. Thanks to urban sprawl, the ladies of Dallas found her salon and made it profitable. Thanks to the recent economic downturn, those profits had been eaten up quicker than Texas wintergra.s.s in a wildfire.

Mama's only option to make the balloon payment due at the beginning of the year was to refinance, but she needed more income to qualify. Shay's income. Courtesy of a "friend" of her meddling paternal grandmother, Meemaw, a well-paying government job awaited her-provided she received her degree in December, as planned. No one ever asked if it was a job Shay wanted. It didn't matter.

But Brody's agent had apparently strong-armed someone at the bank, who spilled the beans about her mama's financial woes. Now Brody could scuttle the whole dang thing with a few choice words to her academic advisor. In a moment of madness, Shay wanted to tell Brody he could take his personal chef's job and shove it. If the Platinum Palace were gone, she'd be free to do what she wanted. But it was a fact of life that Shay would never be free to do what she wanted.

She looked from the ugly paper in front of her to his blue eyes. There was nothing charming about them now. Instead, they were shrewd and calculating. Shay doubted many people saw this side of Brody Janik and she rather wished she wasn't seeing it, either. But as her daddy would say, Brody had her between a rock and a hard place. The only thing to do was to figure out a way to work it to her advantage. Having access to a professional athlete and his diet would definitely provide her with the information she needed for her thesis. It meant she wouldn't have to get up with the roosters to meet with the high school swim team every morning to collect data.

Shay scanned the doc.u.ment again. "The deal is I cook for you. Nothing else."

"We've already covered that there'll be nothing else."

She tried not cringe at his words. "You have to eat what I prepare, when I tell you to."

Brody narrowed his eyes. "Within reason."

"No. This is nonnegotiable. If you want to properly manage your blood sugar so it doesn't affect your game, you have to do it my way."

Shay could tell from his body language that she was testing his patience. Part of her hoped he'd back off from this loony plan-but only a small part. The rest of her was excited to put some of her skills to use. After all, it might be the only opportunity she had to use her education as she'd intended.

"I'm not eating anything crazy," he argued. "Like tofu or funny vegetables."

"What const.i.tutes a funny vegetable?"

"Anything that isn't green beans or corn."