So he'd been looking for her. She tamped down the flutter of excitement in her chest. "What's it to you?"

"Shannon, if they find out it was you in that locker room, they'll fire you. Isn't that what we're trying to avoid here?"

And there it was. We. "Oh, for pity's sake, Brody. You're not worried about me. You're worried about you. As usual. If I get fired, you lose your leverage over me and you won't have anyone to fix your meals."

His lips formed a grim line. "Not quite all my leverage, Texas."

That part was true, but it was against Shay's nature to concede defeat. "What's done is done. Now can you let me out of here so I can go do my job?"

Brody blocked the door, his muscled arms belligerently crossed against his chest, his feet spread wide. He muttered something beneath his breath. "Do you give all your boyfriends this much trouble?" he asked as he took two steps toward her.

"You're not my boyfriend, Brody." It was a credit to her acting abilities that she could hide the disappointment in her voice.

Somehow he'd managed to move to within striking distance. He narrowed those cobalt eyes at her and suddenly there wasn't a breath of air left in the room.

"So then I shouldn't do this."

Ever so gently, he cupped her face in his hands. Shay was too stunned to react as his lips descended toward hers. He definitely shouldn't be doing this, she thought to herself. But she did nothing to stop him. She couldn't. Even more embarra.s.sing, she wasn't able to stifle the soft moan of pleasure that escaped from the back of her throat as his lips made contact with hers. The sound was all the encouragement Brody needed.

He opened her mouth with his and she welcomed the invasion, his tongue sliding along her own. Heat pooled in her belly as Brody groaned, her embarra.s.sment quickly replaced by satisfaction. Her hands had somehow found their way into his hair and she threaded her fingers through the soft strands, the movement bringing their bodies closer. Brody lifted his hands from her face to explore the contours of her body, leaving a warm flush to her skin everywhere he touched. She sighed in protest as his lips left hers. But when they moved to caress the sensitive spot beneath her ear, her knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.

"I should have never let you leave my bedroom last night."

The sensual haze was surely playing tricks on her hearing because men like Brody didn't say those kinds of things to women like Shay. If she were dreaming, she didn't want this interlude to end. Turning her head, she sought out his lips again. He didn't disappoint, claiming her mouth in a full, searching kiss. Shay arched her body into his as his hands cupped her bottom. Her own hands had somehow managed to slip underneath his T-shirt, her fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of his muscled abdomen.

Brody suddenly flinched, his breath catching in a hiss. Shay came to her senses with a start, breaking the kiss and taking a giant step back. She glanced up at his bewildered face. His hair was mussed from where her fingers had been and he was breathing as if he'd just run the length of a football field.

It was a moment before he broke the charged silence. "Sorry. I got a stinger in practice yesterday, that's all." He lifted up his T-shirt to show her his bruised stomach. "See, nothing serious."

Shay wasn't paying attention to his babbling, however. Shame washed over her as she caught sight of his very l.u.s.ty arousal. She'd been two minutes from shedding her drawers in the building where she interned. With a man who'd most likely done this thing a hundred times before; maybe in this very room. Worse, she'd wanted it as much as he did. Probably more.

"Shannon?" His tone was gentle as he took a step forward.

Shay put her hands up to stop him, unable to find her own voice. She needed to get out of there. Making a halfhearted attempt to right her appearance, she spied her hairnet lying on the floor next to his sneakered feet. But she didn't dare retrieve it. Not if it meant getting close to him again. Instead, she scrambled out of the room as quickly as she could, a strangled sob escaping her throat. Brody swore as she sped out, but thankfully, his current condition forced him to stay put.

Two days later, Brody was still edgy from his close encounter with Shannon. She'd made herself scarce again, prepackaging his dinners and snacks while he was at practice and leaving them in his fridge with detailed cooking instructions. He'd been wrong when he said Nate would be a p.r.i.c.k about his diet. Shannon Everett was worse. Way worse. She strictly regimented his day by what he ate and when. But he couldn't complain because his head was finally as clear as it had been before his symptoms started five months ago. As maddening as he found her routine, it was working. Now all he needed to do was to make the other parts of his body happy.

"Yo, Brody! Where's your girlfriend?" DeShawn called across the ballroom of the Baltimore hotel the Blaze stayed at the night before every home game. The team was rea.s.sembling for the coach's nine p.m. motivational pep talk before they dispersed to their rooms to catch the recap of the day's college football games and get some shut-eye. The same local restaurant catered the pregame meals for all the home games, so Shannon had the night off. Of course, that hadn't stopped her from organizing Brody's meals. How she'd managed it with the caterer he didn't know, but he was beginning to suspect that nothing stopped Little Miss Texas when she put her mind to it.

He gave his teammate a shrug. "She has the night off."

"Man, you need to be more careful with your lady," the tailback said. "You shouldn't let her tend bar without us there to keep the riffraff away."

"She isn't tending bar tonight, either." At least he hoped not. He'd spent five hours the previous evening nursing mineral water at Celtic Charm, keeping watch on Shannon as she mixed drinks. The three slugs from Santoni's had wandered through the bar area, along with the rest of the frat house, but they didn't linger. Most of the men vying for Shannon's attention had been his teammates, allowing Brody to relax a little. But only a little.

Thanks to the charade he was perpetrating with Shannon, he couldn't very well have hooked up with any of the women who'd been hitting on him last night. That little miscalculation was wreaking havoc with his body, with no relief in sight. Making matters worse, he wanted Shannon. G.o.d only knew the reason why. She wasn't going to grace the cover of the Sports Ill.u.s.trated swimsuit edition anytime soon. Not to mention Little Miss Texas was ornery as a mule. A man didn't stand a chance controlling a girl like that. Especially one with an IQ in the Big Bang Theory range. h.e.l.l, given the choice, he'd take a high-maintenance woman any day; she'd be less work than Shannon Everett.

The problem was, Brody couldn't stop thinking about kissing her. He'd known that if he got that second chance, he could coax a response out of her. What he hadn't been prepared for was the intensity of her response. She was equal parts innocence and s.e.x kitten, a conundrum even when she kissed. He'd been so overwhelmed by the way her body came alive beneath his hands and his lips that he'd nearly taken her right there in the training room. Even more astounding, he didn't think she'd put up any resistance if he'd tried. His body grew hard just thinking about it, making him squirm on the already uncomfortable banquet chair.

"You got ants in your pants, Janik?"

Brody stifled a groan as Shane Devlin slid into the chair next to him.

"More likely he's missing his new pretty girlfriend," Will Connelly said as he folded his big body into the seat on Brody's other side.

Devlin waved a bag of nacho cheese corn chips in front of Brody's face. "Chip?"

Brody shook his head and the quarterback reached across to offer the bag to Connelly.

"What's up with you, Janik?" Connelly asked, taking a handful. "You normally eat like you've got a tapeworm." The d.a.m.n linebacker was way too observant.

"Just being careful about what I fuel my body with before a game. All the better to optimize my performance."

Devlin laughed as he crunched on a mouthful of chips.

Connelly eyed him shrewdly for a moment. "What did I tell you about trying to navigate the Internet on your own? Don't get sucked into one of those crazy diet plans," he teased.

"p.i.s.s off," Brody said, and the two laughed harder.

Great. Not only was he jonesing for a certain whiskey-eyed bartender, but he had the bad luck to be sandwiched between the team's two most happily married men; one of whom was waving a tempting snack food in front of his face.

Coach Richardson took the podium and Devlin whispered to Brody. "I've got two words for what ails you, Janik. Phone s.e.x."

Connelly snorted beside him as Brody whipped his head around to stare at the quarterback.

Devlin kept his eyes fixed toward the front of the room. "No diet's gonna fix what's eating you tonight, Brody. You need to call your girlfriend before you go to bed."

Brody turned to his right where the linebacker smirked in his chair. "Don't knock it until you've tried it."

"TMI." Brody shook his head in bewilderment as both men chuckled beside him. The image of the two men engaging in phone s.e.x with their wives creeped him out. Unfortunately, thinking about talking dirty with Shannon was punishing his body further. h.e.l.l. It was going to be a long night.

Nine.

The midmorning sun felt good on Brody's shoulders as he jogged the perimeter of the painted football field. Kickoff wasn't until one o'clock, but it was his habit to take the earlier of the two team buses headed for the stadium. The gates wouldn't open for another half hour, allowing him to rehea.r.s.e his routes without the distraction of the crowd.

As he suspected, he'd had a restless night of sleep, but the exact.i.tude of his game day routine enabled him to relax into his playing zone. As he did every home game, Brody walked from the hotel to seven thirty ma.s.s at St. Leo the Great. He sat in the back with Sister Agnes, a nun who'd become a local celebrity for her weekly football picks on sports talk radio.

"Make sure you keep an eye on their corner, Chris Bailey. He had some speedy moves against Chicago last week," she'd whispered during the homily. "He's faster to the right, so keep him on your inside when you can."

Talking football with a sixty-two-year-old nun always made Brody smile. Best of all, Sister Agnes knew the game and asked more astute questions than most of the media that hounded him in the locker room after the game. Brody had the benefit of game films to pick up that detail about Bailey, one a normal viewer might miss. He wasn't convinced that Sister Agnes didn't bring some divine intervention to her a.n.a.lysis of the game.

But ma.s.s had been three hours ago and he was starting to get antsy again. His cell phone buzzed inside the pocket of his shorts. Normally, he'd have turned it off by now, not wanting the distraction of family and friends calling, but he'd texted Shannon with a trumped-up excuse of needing one of her shakes before the game. He figured if she were in the stadium watching, he'd be able to concentrate better on his play. As usual, though, she drove a hard bargain.

She'd texted him back that she'd need two tickets. Brody hadn't counted on her bringing a date. Instead of his plan helping to mitigate his desire, he'd managed to add jealousy to the catalog of feelings he had for Shannon.

We're at the VIP entrance. Where should we meet you?

Fans were starting to head to their seats, letting loose cheers and catcalls in Brody's general direction. The rest of the team would soon be on the field along with their opponent. He needed to head to the locker room, but first he'd face down another opponent-her date. Texting Shannon, he trotted toward the tunnel into the stadium.

When he finally rounded the corner to the VIP entrance, his body fired up at the sight of Shannon. She looked cool and relaxed in a pair of skinny jeans and a black Blaze V-neck T-shirt. Best of all, standing next to her, his face painted red and black, was her young neighbor Maddox.

"Mr. Janik! Lookee what I got done to my face!" A ball of boundless energy, the boy launched himself at Brody. "Shay said I can have a hot dog and maybe some nachos. And we're gonna stay for the whole game."

Brody rubbed the top of the boy's head. "Whoa there, little dude. First of all, you can call me Brody. My dad is Mr. Janik."

Maddox laughed.

"That's some pretty fine artwork on your face."

"The tailgaters were going a little bit crazy out there," Shannon explained. "Jackie will probably kill me when she sees him."

"I'm not washing my face. I'm going to school with this on tomorrow."

Shannon groaned. "We'll see what your mama has to say about that."

"Well look who's here on her day off." Nate Dumas materialized from the locker room. "Only coaches, players, and working Blaze personnel are allowed in this area of the stadium before a game, Shay. Of course, when you're dating one of the players, you can play fast and loose with the rules. Just keep the kid from getting underfoot."

"Don't worry, we're not staying," Shannon bit out, her mouth a grim line.

"That's too bad. I might have let you observe some game day training techniques," Dumas taunted before he slithered off toward the training area.

Shannon shook her head as Brody tried to convince himself not to go after the trainer and squeeze his throat until his head popped off.

"Can we go out there?" Maddox asked, pointing toward the tunnel leading to the field.

"Not today." Shannon wrapped an arm around the boy.

"I don't see why not," Brody said at the same time. He was so glad she'd brought Maddox and not someone else that he'd promise the kid anything. "Hey, Troy!" He flagged down Shane Devlin's half brother, one of the team's ball boys. "Can you take my buddy Maddox out to the field? And maybe grab him a ball so he can get it signed?"

"Sure thing, Brody." Troy shoved his wire gla.s.ses up on his nose. "Come with me."

"Make sure you stay with Troy, Maddox," Shannon called after the two boys as they sprinted down toward the sunshine at the end of the tunnel.

Brody needed to get to the locker room to suit up for pregame warm-ups. The problem was his body still hummed with pent-up desire remaining from their interlude in the training room the other day. If he could just talk things out with her, maybe he'd be able to get his head back in the game.

"Shannon, you came." They were interrupted by one of the coach's daughters. "I thought you had to study?"

"Hi, Emma. I did," Shannon said and Brody felt a twinge of guilt for dragging her to the game under false pretenses. "But it was a beautiful day and I brought my little neighbor I was telling you about. He just disappeared out onto the field with one of the ball boys."

He could hear the worry in her voice. She hadn't wanted to be separated from the boy, but Brody just wanted a few minutes alone with Shannon. The arrival of the coach's daughter provided the perfect opportunity. "Hey, would you mind keeping an eye on Maddox while he's out there so Shannon and I can talk for a minute?"

A knowing smile-eerily similar to her old man's-spread over the girl's face. "I'd be happy to." She crooked an eyebrow at Shannon just before skipping through the tunnel.

Concern clouded Shannon's eyes. "Are you feeling that poorly, Brody?" She reached into an insulated bag and began to pull out the shake.

"Not here." He gestured to one of the empty offices the coaches used during halftime to revise the game plan.

"Let me see your latest reading," she said as she deposited the shake and her bag onto the desk. "How low is it?"

This was the tricky part. "Lower than it should be." He grabbed the shake, now more like a slushie, and took a pull from the straw.

Shannon's eyes narrowed. "Exactly what does that mean?"

He didn't answer, instead taking another drink of the fruity concoction.

"Dang it, Brody. There's nothing wrong with your blood sugar this morning, is there?"

"No," he admitted sheepishly. "But that doesn't mean it couldn't drop during the game. And then where would I be with you at home, your nose buried in a book."

"Oh, for pity's sake!" She stomped around the desk. "You are such a big baby, Brody. You can't stand having to do anything for yourself. Well, I'm not one of your sisters who is going to jump when you bellow. I really don't know what you want from me."

"I just want you!"

His admission stopped Shannon in her tracks. Her breathing hitched briefly as she stared into his eyes.

"You don't want me, Brody," she said softly.

"The h.e.l.l I don't!"

"No, you only think you want me because you can't have me. You're not used to being told no. If I'd been willing and easy, I wouldn't be so interesting. Admit it." Her voice wavered a bit and her shoulders slumped slightly.

If she'd been willing and easy, he'd have already had her in the training room and he wouldn't be so d.a.m.n restless right now. Someone had really done a number on her self-esteem. They'd given her a real inferiority complex. Brody suspected it might have been her twin, the Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. He wanted to tell Shannon how wrong she was; that for such a brainy woman, she really misunderstood the facts. But before he could, she went in for the kill.

"You don't even trust me, Brody. I'd never sleep with a man who didn't trust me."

The silence in the room was profound. Brody couldn't dispute her argument. He'd been celibate the past several months because he couldn't trust the women he was involved with to keep his private life private. That didn't even count the women who made up c.r.a.p about him. His mother had been devastated two summers ago when a story was leaked that Brody was marrying his pregnant girlfriend. A woman his family had never met who was definitely not pregnant and certainly not his girlfriend. Shannon was no different than the rest of her gender. She'd already proven herself untrustworthy the night she snuck into the locker room.

"I need to go find Maddox," she said, gathering up her things. "Finish that shake and remember to check your sugar at halftime. If you need it, eat the protein bar I left for you."

She paused in front of him, her whiskey eyes sad. "Text me if you need me, but you shouldn't. You're a big boy, Brody. You can handle this. Now go catch a few touchdown pa.s.ses."

Brody waited a few minutes after she slipped out the door to unleash a string of curse words. The fact that she was right didn't make his body feel any better. His only recourse was to go unleash his frustrations on the football field. And do as she said: catch a few touchdown pa.s.ses.

He nearly tackled Nate as he left the office.

"Trouble in paradise?" the trainer asked. The guy was really starting to p.i.s.s Brody off. Couldn't he mind his own d.a.m.n business?

"No, dude," Brody lied as he stalked into the locker room. "Everything is freakin' wonderful."