Turn Over:A Secret Baby Sports Romance(9)

I slipped my arm around her waist, anticipating her falling off-balance.  I inhaled her perfume and her shampoo. God, she even smelled like  heaven. I let her go once she was steady again.

Everything about this scenario screamed for me to take her. To find a  dark corner and kiss the hell out of this girl. Damn the band or the  straggling guests. I could have wrapped her in my arms so fast and felt  her heart beat out of her chest. But there was something about Lexi that  made me want more than a quickie in the closet. I wanted to savor this  woman. Devour her. Drink in every part of her. And I wanted to take my  time doing it.

"I guess we're lucky that didn't land on our heads." She giggled. "Maybe this isn't the best place to be."

"Maybe not." I let my fingers fall from her waist.

"And I need to get back to the hotel and change."

"See you at my place?" I asked.

She bit her lower lip. I took that as a yes and strolled out of the  hospital, loosening my tie and throwing my jacket over my shoulder. This  night was finally about to get good.





8





Alexa





The driver pulled up in front of Luke's house. "We're here," he announced.

I wasn't quite ready to get out of the car yet. I fidgeted with my purse  and looked outside at the ranch-style home. So this is where Austin's  most infamous quarterback lived? We were far from the city and I looked  out of the window, noticing you could actually see the stars in the sky.  The front porch light drew moths the size of Texas to its glow.

Did I actually have the nerve to go through with this? It was a drink.  He said drinks. Just drinks. I remembered the look in his eyes. The  promise of sex practically dripped off his entire body.

It didn't help that I had baited him into outbidding every man at the  benefit tonight for a private concert with me. At the time it seemed  playful. It was a way to get back at Jake's constant pestering. Maybe it  had started as the act of a petulant child, but now ... sitting outside  of his house there was nothing childish about this.

I could even excuse what I did as charitable, but I wasn't sure that's  how Luke would see it. I'd never met someone with more testosterone  running through his veins than that man. He was determined to win.  Determined to show everyone that he could win me.

He wasn't a singer or an actor. There was no art in what he did. He was  an athlete. A competitor. A full-blown conditioned machine who easily  brought in as many fans as I did. I realized that might be the only  thing we had in common.

"Ma'am?" The driver seemed impatient. It was after midnight. He probably wanted to head back to the city. "This is the address."

"Right," I answered. "Thank you."         

     



 

I could do this. I wanted to do this.

I stepped out of the car and walked up the stone steps to the front  entrance. The Warriors team symbol was carved into the massive wooden  doors. I knocked lightly, debating how badly I wanted to go through with  this.

The door whipped open and Luke smiled at me.

"You made it." He even had perfect white teeth. Damn it. Every ounce of him was sexy.

"I did."

He looked over my shoulder. "Hold on." He jogged down the stairs and I  saw the driver roll down the passenger window. I didn't know what Luke  said to him, but he drove away, heading in the direction of the city.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't say anything about our meeting. I gave him a generous tip to return in the morning."

"The morning?" I was struggling to stay calm. He had finally made his intentions absolutely clear.

But the instant I heard it roll off his lips, I felt a deep flutter in  my core and my heart started to race. We both knew why I was here in the  middle of the night. I was aching for a night like this. God, I needed  it.

"Want to come inside?" he offered.

"Yeah, I'd like to see how a football bachelor lives."

He chuckled over his shoulder. "Like any other bachelor."

I realized that there was something charming about Luke Canton. He  wasn't just an egotistical football stud, there was humor there. Under  the layers of his tough exterior he could be persuasive. He could be  seductive. He could maybe even be sweet. I was probably giving him too  much credit, but I saw little snippets here and there in his voice, or  in the way he guided me through the hospital or here at his house. He  wasn't all about himself. He only wanted me to think that.

I was starting to think that was his brand. Tough. Heartless. Selfish.  Who was I to judge? I was here for one reason-to get something I needed.  I was the selfish one.

I looked around at the leather sofa and chairs. The flat screen TVs. The  saddle mounted over the mantle. This was a Texas man's dream ranch,  complete with an enormous stone fireplace that climbed to the ceiling. I  doubted many other bachelors had this kind of lifestyle. Luke picked up  a remote and manipulated the lights, the fireplace, and the speakers  built into the wall.

"I like the music." I recognized the song. It was a Texas tune that  didn't get much airplay in the Nashville circuit. The guy was known as a  renegade. But he wrote his own music and recorded with his own band.  That was practically unheard of in Nashville.

"Thanks. He speaks my language."

"And I guess my music doesn't?" I tilted my head sideways. Luke didn't  exactly fit my demographic. He wasn't a sixteen-year-old girl.

"When you start singing about beer and football and women, then you'll be speaking my language."

The women part was out, but I wanted to tell him I wanted songs like  this one. Songs that felt gritty and raw. Songs that reminded people of  something they had lost-something they were looking for. The music I  sang when no one was listening. I wanted people to hear what I really  had to say. I had notebooks and journals filled with songs I wanted to  record.

"So, basically caveman speak," I sassed.

"Funny." He chuckled. "Just when I think you're sweet, you turn into a wicked little thing."

He walked over to the bar in the corner. The sides were a deep mahogany  and there was a line of barstools covered in black and white cow hide.  It looked as if he had every kind of liquor imaginable. It made me  wonder how much entertaining he did. I had to remind myself I wasn't  here to dispel rumors about him, or even get to know him. I was here for  me. I was here because of what I needed. And Luke Canton was the man  who could give it to me.

"Bourbon okay?" he asked.

"Sounds good." I wasn't a bourbon girl. I was a vodka girl, but I didn't  drink much before shows. Alcohol made my voice do funny things. I  didn't have any performances planned. A drink or two wouldn't hurt.

He handed the drink to me and I studied his eyes. There were light  flecks of green. He had changed out of his tux and was wearing a shirt  that pulled across his chest. His biceps stretched the material around  his arms. He had added a pair of jeans. I didn't know which one made him  look hotter. All I knew was that he was unreal. Men like this didn't  exist. At least I hadn't met one before.         

     



 

I gulped the sweet bourbon and felt the burn slide down my throat. My limbs tingled and I felt loose in my shoulders.

"Do you have a game this weekend?" I asked. I didn't exactly follow Warrior football.

"Almost every Sunday. This one is home." He poured his glass half-full. "What about you? Are you still on tour?"

I guess neither of us knew much about the other's career. "No. I wrapped  up my summer stadium tour a few weeks ago. Now it's press events before  I'm back in the studio for the next album. Of course the holidays fall  in there and I have a ton of bookings for Christmas shows and then  there's New Year's Eve," I rattled on longer than I intended.

"So this is your off-season?"

I grinned. "Yep. This is the so-called off-season. I don't go on tour again until next summer."

He took a sip of bourbon and I couldn't look away as he swallowed. The  tight muscles of his throat moved with each swallow. He licked his lips,  and I was dying to see what they would taste like coated in the thick  liquor.

Luke grabbed the empty glass from my hand, startling me from my  obsession with his lips. "Want to tell me what a good girl like you is  doing here?"

His glass was empty too and his hands were free to move to my hips. I  froze as he coasted his hands to my ass and dragged me against his body.  He was solid and firm. He was a wall of muscle on top of muscle.

"Who said I was a good girl?" I looked into his green eyes. There was  mischief there. Playfulness. And a hunger that said he might fucking  devour me on the spot.

"Everyone says that." He cupped my ass, gripping tighter.

"And you? Are you really a bad boy? Or is that just a way to keep your  love-hate relationship with the press hot and heavy?" I teased.

I saw the seriousness in his eyes. The intensity as he zeroed in on me.  "Everything you've heard is true. It's not an act. I live my life  wide-open. No regrets. You should know that."