Most Likely to Score

I narrow my eyes. “What the hell?”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

I drop my fist from his shirt, letting my hand fall to my side as Cletus whimpers. “I told you I love her.”

“I had to test you, though.”

“You called her a piece of ass to test me?”

Trevor grins sheepishly. “It worked. You made your feelings for her crystal clear. That was all it took.”

“Dick,” I mutter as we resume walking Cletus.

“Yeah, but I love you.”

I drape an arm over his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

“What now? Are you going to tell Ford? Tell Liam? How are you going to pull this off? This is a big risk you’re about to take, dating your publicist.”

“I know that.”

He claps my back. “Just want you to be aware. Brands are cautious these days. They drop athletes for the smallest of reasons. That could happen to you. You do know that?”

“I’m aware, and I’m also well aware I don’t have a track record to stand on.”

He shoots a rueful smile, his tone shifting now to brotherly concern. “You don’t, though I understand where you’re coming from. You want Liam to believe what you know in your heart to be true.” He taps my chest. “There’s a first time for everything, and you’re feeling it, so you want him to line up behind you. But you need to know that Liam might not see things the same way.”

I sigh heavily. “I know.”

“He might not be convinced as easily as I was.”

I scoff. “You were easily convinced? We might have different definitions of easily.”

He stops, looking me square in the eyes. “I do believe you. I know you wouldn’t put your neck out like this with me if you weren’t in love. But I’m your flesh and blood. I’m on your side no matter what. And that’s why I want you to be realistic about how other people—people who haven’t stood by you since Mom and Dad brought you home from the hospital and all your big brothers and sister had to help give you a bottle and babysit you—”

I raise a hand to cut him off. “Bottle? Are we back to bottles and babysitting?”

“When you’re the baby of the family, it’s always going to come back to bottles and babysitting. Point being, I’m on your team. And part of why you wanted me to work closely on your business is to make sure someone you trust implicitly is always looking out for you. I’m looking out for you when I say I’m behind you one hundred percent.” He slows and takes a beat. “And I also want you to be realistic, too.”

I rub a hand over the back of my neck, heaving a sigh as we resume our walk. “Yeah, I get it. I can’t assume that just because I feel this way about her, everyone else is going to clap their hands in glee and say oh, we’ve been hoping you’d fall in love, Jones.”

He laughs. “If only it were that simple.”

Nothing is simple in this situation. I haven’t proven myself when it comes to relationships, and that’s the risk I’d be asking Paleo Pet to take—to stand by a guy who’s never gone the distance. “They’ll worry it’ll end in a few days, a few weeks.”

Trevor nods. “Yeah, they might. They might also worry it’ll blow up into a huge mess. They won’t want to be collateral damage.”

“They’d worry it’d look like a scandal,” I say, thinking of Jillian’s words in Miami. No matter how deeply I feel for her, I can see how the press would twist the two of us to suit a narrative. “I need to think carefully about how to broach this with Liam when he returns this weekend.”

“I’ll help you brainstorm, but I think you know what to do,” Trevor says.

I complete the thought. “Be honest.”

That’s who I want to be—the guy who handles things right. I want to do the hard work to earn the rewards. That’s what my dad taught me.

In this case, the hard work lies in communication, being open with people I care about, people I do business with.

But that also means that if Liam cuts me off, I have to be willing to let the deal go. Saying the words out loud tonight for the first time—that I’m in love with her—yields a stark and beautiful kind of clarity to the dilemma.

I might want both Jillian and the contract. But if I can’t have both, I choose her.

First, though, I have a wedding to attend.

26

Jones

It’s like prom, only so much better because I like Jillian way more than Cassie Perkins, the girl I took to the dance. We had a fun time, danced to a couple songs, laughed at a few jokes. But I didn’t feel this stirring of excitement down to my bones when I picked her up.

The limo Harlan and I rented stops at Jillian’s home in Hayes Valley. Dressed in my dark navy tailored suit, I bound up the steps and ring the bell. A minute later, Jillian appears at the door, and I’m speechless. I drink her in, and I want to eat her up.

Sexy but classy, the black dress she wears clings to her, hugging her curves alluringly. The V of her neckline offers the tiniest peek of her cleavage, a hint of flesh. I groan my appreciation. “I want to take that off. Kiss you from head to toe, get my mouth all over every square inch of your skin, skip the wedding, and spend the night with you.” I lean closer. “Inside you. Exploring you. Having you.”

Her lips part, and her breath comes in an unsteady rush. Her hand moves to her chest. “If you talk to me like that, I don’t know how I’ll make it through the wedding.”

“If you keep looking at me like that, I don’t know how I will.”

“How do I look at you?”

“Like you want all the same things.”

Gripping the railing in one hand, she answers in a soft, sexy voice, “You know I do.”

Somehow, I muster the strength to tear myself away from her porch and the possibility of what’s behind door number one—her, alone with me, tonight. I offer her an arm and walk her to the car.

Harlan lounges in the back, tipping his imaginary hat as he says hello. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse that I picked him up first. I decide on blessing for now, because maybe he’s the roadblock I need.

We pick up Katie next, and as she slides into the car wearing a pale pink dress, it’s safe to say Harlan’s eyes pop out of his head. “How do you do?” He extends a hand as if to shake hers, then dips his head to kiss the top of her fingers.

“My, my, what a gentleman,” Katie remarks.

“I can dance, too.”

“You don’t say,” Katie tosses back.

He shrugs and shoots her a lopsided grin. “I enjoy dancing. It’s one of my many talents.”

“What are your others? Besides running, blocking, and tackling.”

“I can bake pies like nobody’s business.”

Katie’s eyes light up, and she hums her approval. “I’ll be saving a dance for you, Mr. Pie Maker.”

I glance at Jillian, and she simply shrugs happily. I have a feeling this won’t be the last I hear of Harlan’s interest in Katie.

In front of three hundred friends, family members, colleagues, and professional athletes in a swank hotel ballroom overlooking the Pacific Ocean, Sierra’s fiancé tells her he’ll love, cherish, and honor her for the rest of his days. A few rows in front of us, Kevin leans in closer to the woman he cheated on Jillian with, and dusts a kiss on her cheek.