Out Of Bounds: Risky Game Part 9

"No chasing after the snitch," he demanded softly. "No s.e.x toys. No phone s.e.x."

Shay's lids snapped open. "Phone s.e.x? Who said anything about phone s.e.x?" The mere words sent t.i.tillating spikes of heat to her girl parts.

Brody released her with a jerk, his face a picture of bewilderment and embarra.s.sment. "Jesus," he muttered as he took a big step back. "Forget it. That's not what I meant. You just had me all fired up, that's all." He shoved his fingers through his hair.

"Maybe you should call a nine hundred number or something." Shay tried not to sound too disappointed at the possibility of him chatting up another woman about s.e.x.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed his sweats.h.i.+rt off the sofa. "I don't need a nine hundred number. What I need is a full-service girlfriend."

"Fine," Shay said, wrapping her arms around her body to keep it from trembling. "End our agreement and go out and get yourself one."

He stood stone-faced, staring at her, and Shay realized that even though he'd blackmailed her into it, she'd be disappointed if their arrangement ended. She tried to tell herself it was because of her research, but she knew that was a lie. The s.e.xy man filling the s.p.a.ce of her small apartment excited her and she reveled in being needed by such a man, even if it was just for food.

Brody finally broke the charged silence. "No. This whole thing was my idea. It's working out-most of it anyway. This is the last year in my contract and I need to put up stellar numbers. For that, I need my blood sugar staying level. So our little agreement stands. We just need to set a few more ground rules."

Shay arched an eyebrow at him.

"No more touching and no more s.e.x talk."

Dropping her hands to her side in exasperation, Shay opened her mouth to remind him that he was the one who'd been initiating their kisses.

"Whoa there, Texas. You started it tonight. Both times," he said as if he'd read her thoughts.

She slammed her mouth closed in embarra.s.sment.

"I came by to tell you that I'll be in Boston all day tomorrow. I have the meal plan you left for me. If I have to deviate, I'll text you with what's available so you can advise me." He headed for the door. "And Shannon, no more playing Nancy Drew. Leave the investigating to the professionals. I'll touch base when I get back. Until then, behave."

He was out the door before she could get out a retort about his heavy-handedness. Brody Janik may be blackmailing her into doing his bidding but he was most definitely not the boss of her. Still, when he'd been giving his reasons why he wouldn't break the arrangement, he hadn't mentioned anything about not trusting her any longer. A little bloom of happiness started to unfurl in Shay's belly. She allowed herself to enjoy the glow for a moment. Reality would set in soon enough.

THE GIRLFRIENDS' GUIDE TO THE NFL The season is heating up, ladies. And so are your favorite men of the gridiron. Several Miami players were caught sizzling after dark with a trio of exotic dancers early this morning. According to sources, the guys were working on their "footwork." No word on whether this extra training was sanctioned by their position coaches or not.

In Denver, a few wide receivers are not only tearing it up on the field, but they're tearing up speeding tickets as well. Rumor has it that Denver's Finest will look the other way in exchange for a few choice seats to a home game. Too bad all police don't operate on the barter system.

Things are noticeably quiet with the WAGs (wives and girlfriends) in the league. Even our favorite Blaze tight end has managed to keep his romantic escapades from reaching our ears. Of course, that's probably because his current piece of arm candy isn't very tasty. But we're hearing some whispers of big news coming out of Minnesota concerning one player's love interest. Keep watching this s.p.a.ce for details.

Ten.

"I worry about you, sweetie." Her mama's voice sounded pensive on the other end of the phone. "You work so hard. You must be exhausted. Are you takin' care of yourself?"

"I'm fine, Mama." Shay stirred some honey into her tea. "And I'm not working any harder than you do."

It was a sad state of affairs that most of her conversations with Mama took place during the Late Show with David Letterman. Both mother and daughter typically burned the candle at both ends.

June Dowling Everett hadn't been prepared for life as a struggling businesswoman. The former beauty pageant contestant had grown up the pampered daughter of the mayor of Lake Hamilton, Texas, and a former first runner-up for Miss Texas. Shay's paternal grandmother, Meemaw, used to say that with those bloodlines, it was a wonder that only one of her granddaughters had a lick of beauty.

When June's parents were killed in a tragic boat accident, the eighteen-year-old dropped out of college and quickly married the small town's favorite son, rodeo rider Dusty Everett. The two led a charmed life for nearly twelve years. They enjoyed minor celebrity status in Lake Hamilton, as the small town morphed into a sleepy east Dallas suburb. Dusty traveled the rodeo circuit eight months out of the year while his pretty wife and twin daughters held down the home front.

The fairy tale ended when Shay and her sister were ten and their daddy suffered a debilitating brain trauma resulting from the strike of a horse's hoof to his head. Dusty's injury not only brought with it major medical expenses, but a few secrets as well. One of them an eighteen-month-old son he'd been hiding in Oklahoma.

Instead of crumbling beneath the shame of her husband's infidelity and an onslaught of debt-including child support for her husband's son-the thirty-year-old June took the bull by the horns and faced the situation head on. She'd figured out a way to make the money she needed to provide for her daughters, care for her husband and honor his debts by building up her hair salon business from the sunporch of their home to a three-thousand-square-foot facility that housed twelve stylists. Shay was proud of her mama and how she'd taken on such responsibility. It was June's work ethic that she emulated.

"I just wish you didn't have to accept that job." The regret in her mama's voice was palpable. "I know you're doing it to help me, but your Meemaw is unforgivable in her meddling."

Shay knew Mama's greatest regret in the whole unfortunate situation with her father was that she'd been forced to move her mother-in-law into their house to care for her husband and daughters. Meddling wasn't strong enough of a word to describe Shay's narcissistic grandmother.

"It's a federal job, with great pay and benefits. In this economy, I'm lucky to find a job at all." If she kept repeating it, maybe she'd believe it. "Besides, we agreed the only way to secure the loan to make the rest of the childcare payments is with my income."

"You'll be running a kitchen in a prison!" Mama's voice was tinged with despondency.

Shay tried not to cringe at the thought. "Yeah, I know, but it's only for a year and I'll be at home. It's been so long since I've lived with you and Daddy. How is he?" she asked softly. The subject of her father was still a tender one fourteen years later.

"The same," her mama said with resignation. The state had deemed Daddy fit to live at home as long as someone watched him every day. Meemaw cared for him just as she'd done when he was a little boy, dressing him, feeding him, and changing his diaper. Daddy wasn't bedridden, just unresponsive. Mostly he just sat and watched television or stared out the window. It didn't seem fair that Mama had to be burdened with him, but a private facility was out of the question both because it was too expensive and Meemaw wouldn't allow it. "Teryn was by last weekend and that always perks him up."

Shay wasn't surprised. Her daddy had always favored her sister. A weak smile never failed to touch his eyes when he gazed at Teryn. If he recognized Shay when he looked at her, he never let on.

"She was very curious about your new boyfriend."

"You didn't tell her anything, did you?" Shay had told her mama about her arrangement with Brody, leaving out the part about him blackmailing her, however. Her mama didn't need to worry any more than she already was about securing the loan.

"No way," Mama laughed. "It was nice to see the girl have her comeuppance, finally. Let her think you have a hot stud for a boyfriend. Meemaw allowed her to live in the limelight for too long. It's your turn, now."

Shay swallowed around the lump in her throat. Teryn may share their mama's killer good looks, but Shay knew she and Mama shared a lot more, including a more realistic outlook on life.

"Thanks, Mama, but the relations.h.i.+p's not real. I'm just doing a job."

"Well, if that boy doesn't see how much you have to offer, then he's a dang fool."

"I don't think either of us should get our hopes up," she said as she fingered the s.e.x toy catalog she'd picked up at a store near campus. Just reading the descriptions of some of the "toys" in the catalog made her sweaty. And agitated. No wonder Brody said he would be embarra.s.sed to have the glossy pages in his locker. He'd claimed he didn't need any of these things to make a woman happy. Shay quivered just thinking what exactly Brody could do to make her happy.

"You okay there, Shay?" Her mama's question pulled Shay out of the sensual fantasy with a start. She shoved the catalog into the folder with her paperwork accepting the job at the prison so she wouldn't have to look at either.

"I'm here, just woolgathering. You get some sleep, Mama. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"G'night, Shay. Don't stay up too late studying, ya hear? Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too, Mama."

Shay disconnected and stared at her cell phone. As it had for nearly a week now, her mind wandered to the subject of phone s.e.x. What exactly const.i.tuted phone s.e.x? Brody had been emphatic that there would be no phone s.e.x between them, so she wasn't likely to find out. Trouble was, Shay suddenly wanted to know a whole lot more about it.

Brody's father eyed him carefully over a plate of chicken wings. "You're looking a little pale there, Brody. You okay?"

No, he wasn't okay. It had been unusually warm on the field for late September, and the heat had drained him. His blood sugar tanked at halftime, but Shannon had antic.i.p.ated the weather, leaving him extra oranges and a protein shake in the training room. The woman was a veritable Mary Poppins. A very s.e.xy Mary Poppins.

"Just a little dehydrated, Dad." Brody took a pull of his water, making sure to avoid his dad's clinical gaze. "I didn't take enough fluid during the game."

"You wouldn't have known by the way you played today, Brody. Twelve receptions with two of them for touchdowns. My fantasy football team might have a chance this week with that performance." His brother-in-law, Mark, saluted him with his bottle of beer.

"I can't believe Garrett had to miss the game," Skip, his sister Gwen's husband, said. "I still don't get why the poor schmo had to be there for the shower."

Brody, his father, and his two brothers-in-law were having dinner on the patio of a local bar after the Blaze had soundly defeated the New York Jets a few hours earlier. The males of the Janik family jumped at the excuse of a football game to escape Boston in order to avoid his sister's bridal shower.

"It ought to be a crime to make a guy go to his fiancee's shower," Skip said.

"Speaking of fiancees, Rob Henshaw and his girlfriend set a date for their wedding. It's next spring some time." His father was obviously on a mission of some kind because he'd sooner know when Robbie was getting married as he'd know his wife's shoe size. "First Tricia and then Robbie. Your mother and Joyce Henshaw will be looking for another wedding to plan."

"Jeez, Dad, I hope you're more subtle when you're giving your patients a root ca.n.a.l." Brody chewed on a chicken wing.

His father had the grace to laugh. "Okay, I promised your mother I'd mention it. You boys are my witnesses." He glanced at Skip and Mark. "Sybil will just have to wait a few more years for another wedding."

"Mom does know she still has another unmarried child, right? Even better, Bridgett is a girl. Mom would have free rein to plan the entire thing."

Mark coughed to cover his laugh while Skip openly snickered. Brody's father sighed heavily. "It's going to take a special man to put up with your sister."

"What your dad is trying to say as kindly as only a father can is that Bridgett is a ball buster. She's brilliant and gorgeous and sometimes that isn't the best combination in a woman, if you know what I mean," Skip said.

Brody waited for his dad to argue with Skip, to defend Bridgett, but his father just shrugged as he reached for another chicken wing. Was this how Shannon's family felt about her? In Brody's opinion, his sister wasn't any prettier than Shannon. Bridgett just had a bit more fas.h.i.+on sense and a lot more disposable income. Both women were uncannily bright-Bridgett graduated fourth in her cla.s.s from Harvard Law-and determined to be successful. And stubborn. He recalled a time when his sister refused to dissect a frog in biology, claiming it was inhumane. Brody had been the only one in a family full of dentists to side with Bridgett back then. He smiled at the memory, thinking that Shannon would easily relate with the same mulish determination.

"Anything else Mom needs to know?" Brody asked.

The trio of men went silent for a moment. He let his gaze circle the table from his brothers-in-law to his dad.

"Well, your mother is a little upset that you're not bringing your new girlfriend to Tricia's wedding," his dad said sheepishly.

Brody tossed his finished chicken wing into the bone bowl. "It's a little early in the relations.h.i.+p for that. Everyone knows you don't bring a woman to a family wedding unless it's serious."

"So this is just a casual thing then?" Obviously, his father was given strict instructions from the coven of Janik women to somehow quantify his relations.h.i.+p with Shannon. Brody declined to comment, crunching on a celery stick instead.

"Those are the best kind," Skip said. "Especially when she's pulling double duty as his own personal chef."

Brody made a mental note to speak with Gwen about how much of his private life she shared with the rest of the family. He also didn't like the way Skip trivialized his relations.h.i.+p with Shannon.

Disappointment flickered in his dad's eyes. "You're not using that girl, are you Brody?"

Mark chimed in before Brody could answer. "Dan, it's what they call a mutually beneficial relations.h.i.+p." He grinned and it was all Brody could do to keep his dinner down as his brother-in-law added: "I'm sure the woman is very happy to oblige."

His dad slumped back in his chair, disheartened, and suddenly Brody was angry. Mark and Skip made him sound like a jerk celebrity jock who used women and Brody was getting tired of being portrayed as that guy. He was more than that. Problem was he just hadn't figured out exactly what he was yet. He did know one thing: the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Shannon. Or let down his parents.

Shay was late. Nate had insisted she stay thirty minutes longer to help in the kitchen because the league bra.s.s was visiting the Blaze offices and, on the off chance they might want coffee from the commissary, he'd made her stick around while he headed off to practice. The team practiced most of Wednesday afternoon each week before breaking out into various cla.s.srooms to study film and review that week's game plan. The sessions normally lasted well into the evening.

But Shay was glad she'd been forced to hold down the fort. As she was rus.h.i.+ng to her car to hightail it to her seniors water aerobics, she'd overheard Donovan Carter speaking with one of the league security people. The Blaze and several other teams were implementing tight restrictions on access to their locker rooms as a result of the blogger's latest post. For their road trip this weekend, the Blaze would only be allowing players, coaches, trainers, and team officials in the locker room area. If she wanted to plant a morsel for the snitch, this would be the perfect time to do it in order to narrow down the suspects. Now all she needed to do was convince Brody to go along with her plan.

Stopping at Santoni's after her swim cla.s.s, she'd picked up the ingredients for stir-fry. She and Brody had been avoiding one another since the night in her apartment more than a week ago. Shay usually fixed his dinners and snacks at her place, leaving them in his fridge while he was at afternoon practice. So far, their arrangement was working well. But tonight, she needed to speak to him in person, to persuade him to plant something in his locker, and that meant cooking at his house.

Struggling with a bag of groceries and her book bag, Shay punched the code to Brody's door. The sound of a whistling teakettle greeted her as she rounded the corner from the mudroom to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of an elegant woman standing in front of the stove as if she belonged there.

"h.e.l.lo." Flawless makeup and beautifully styled long blond hair made pinpointing the woman's age difficult. If Shay were gambling on it, she'd guess late twenties, early thirties. The woman's business suit was designer and it fit her pet.i.te frame to perfection. She'd shed her shoes somewhere else in the house, standing in Brody's kitchen in her stocking feet as if it was her right.

The mystery woman was everything Shay wanted to be when she grew up. But as evidenced by her own chlorinated hair and her shabby sweats, she still had a long way to go.

"Um, hi," Shay managed.

Brody had said something about his family visiting often. Could this be one of his sisters? He usually warned her when one of the Janiks was in town, though. Suddenly, Shay was. .h.i.t with another uncomfortable realization: maybe this woman was a former girlfriend? Or worse, a current one.

"I'm Bridgett." Mystery woman poured water into a mug she had no trouble locating.

"I'm Shannon. But everybody calls me Shay." Neither woman offered up a handshake. She glanced at the bag of groceries in Shay's hands.

"I'm Brody's personal chef." Shay thought before the woman made her out to be a vagrant, she best explain her presence in Brody's kitchen.

The woman's eyes were calculating as they studied her over the rim of her mug.

"But not his girlfriend?"

"No, um, I mean, yeah, I'm that, too." Shay sounded horribly unconvincing. She knew Brody wanted to stick to the girlfriend ruse, but what if this woman was a jilted lover and had come to exact some sort of revenge? Suddenly she started to feel a little shaky.

The woman gave her a shrewd smile. "Interesting."

Before Shay had time to calculate ways to defend herself, Brody's voice came booming through the garage. "Bridgett!"

The soles of his sneakers squealed on the hardwood floor as he screeched to a halt in the doorway. Judging by the expression on his face, he didn't expect to see either woman in his kitchen.

"Hey, Shannon."

Shay gave him curt nod before turning to the counter to unpack the groceries.

"I thought you were flying out tonight," he asked Bridgett.

"Fog in Boston." Bridgett blew on her tea. "It's supposed to clear in a few hours. I should get out by nine."

Brody fisted his hands on his hips as he contemplated both women.

"So, you two have met."

Shay nodded, not bothering to mention she only knew the woman's name, but not who she was.

Bridgett perched herself on one of the barstools. "We've established that she's your personal chef and maybe your girlfriend."