On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(16)

“You don’t need dickhead clients.”

Why was I moving closer to her? My chest brushed against hers.

“Well then, I guess that rules you out as a potential client?” she said, and her lips turned up in the corners as if she were proud of herself.

“Are you asking me to be your client, sweetheart?” My voice was gruff.

Her gaze searched mine. “You want to tell me your story, Lincoln Hendrix?”

“You want to know my story?”

“Not particularly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But the world wants to hear it, so I wouldn’t mind telling it.”

“You sure you can handle it?” My tongue swiped out to wet my bottom lip because my mouth was dry from standing this close to her.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I can easily handle it.”

“If you tell it, you’ll need to shadow me while I’m here. Get the whole story. You won’t have time for clowns like Breen fucking Lockhart while you’re working with me.”

What the fuck was I doing?

“Who has the big head now?” she asked as she raised a brow.

And damn, did I want to dip down and taste her sweet mouth.

Press her against this wall and bury myself inside her.

Dip my fingers into those jeans and see how wet she was for me.

Had I ever wanted anyone more?

“I told you. There’s nothing small about me.”

Her heated gaze locked with mine.

“Coming through!” someone shouted, and we both startled. I stepped to the side, just as a woman came through the doorway leading to the kitchen, carrying a large tray loaded with plates.

She looked at me before glancing over at Brinkley and smiling. “Hey, Brinks. What’s going on out here?”

“Hi, Danielle. I was just coming to get his to-go order.”

The other woman chuckled and walked off, and Brinkley squared her shoulders.

“Is this for real, or are you messing with me because you don’t like my client?”

“If you agree to do it, you do it right. I’ll tell you everything over the next few weeks, and I’ll let you know what is on and off the record.” I held up my hand as she started to ask about where I’d be playing next season. “I haven’t decided where I’m going to play yet, and that’s the truth. But I’ll agree to let you be the first to share it.”

“Why are you suddenly doing this?” She narrowed her gaze and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t have a fucking clue. Maybe it’s the small town rubbing off on me. My agent keeps nagging me to do some interviews, so this will keep him quiet and make everyone happy. And I can do it all right here in Cottonwood Cove.”

“Lucky you. And an amazing reporter just happens to live here.” She tapped her finger against her lips. “Oh, that’s right. You know that. You’re the reason she had to tuck her tail between her legs and move back home.”

Her tail wasn’t the only thing I wanted to put between her legs.

Jesus. What the fuck was going on with me?

I was not that guy.

I didn’t fuck around with women who hated me, nor did I mix business with pleasure.

Ever.

She annoyed me. She was stubborn and argumentative.

So what if I’d gotten off to thoughts of her in the shower a few times?

I wouldn’t act on it.

“If you can’t move forward, this won’t work. Maybe it was meant to be. Now you’re here, and you can have full access to my life. Who’s the lucky one now?”

“I’ll do what I have to do to build my business. Count me in.” She rolled her eyes. “Stay here. I’ll get your food.”

I pulled myself together while I waited.

I’d never wanted to open my life to the world. To open myself up that way.

I’d prided myself on keeping my life private.

Separate from football.

She came back immediately and handed me the bag. “So, how does this work?”

“Are you available tomorrow morning to start?”

“I am. I can work on Breen’s story outside of our work hours.”

I handed her my phone. “Put in your number. I’ll text you where to meet me for our run tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, I’m running with you now?”

“Do you want to see what I do? The work I put in? All of it?”

“I do.”

“I’ll text you the time. How are you getting home?”

“What?” she hissed.

“Watch your back with that guy.”

“Careful, Captain. You almost seem like you care,” she said, backing away with a cocky grin on her face.

“In your dreams, sweetheart.”

I made my way to the front of the restaurant before bumping into Lionel, who always seemed to find me every time I came to pick up my food.

“Mr. Hendrix. Um, hi. Er, hello, sir. I thought I saw you come in.”

I tried not to laugh. He was always tripping over his words. “Relax, Lionel. You can call me Lincoln. Brinkley’s brother owns this place, right?”

“Hugh? Yeah. He’s my boss.”

“Is he around, by any chance?” I asked. I didn’t know why I was so concerned about her. She wasn’t my problem. Hell, I hardly knew the woman.