On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(25)

She raised a brow and chuckled. “Very sly. It’s a good thing you’re a football player and not a reporter. That was not smooth. If you want to ask me something, you can just ask. Unlike you, I don’t have a ton of rules.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at avoiding the question because I believe I already asked it, and you still haven’t answered. Do you have plans tonight, and will your boyfriend mind if you cancel them?” I crossed my arms over my chest, anxious for her to answer the damn question.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t have plans.”

Relief flooded, which made no sense at all. I wasn’t trying to date the woman interviewing me, even if I was getting off to thoughts of her in the shower every day. That was because I was a horny dude, nothing more. We were spending a lot of time together, and she was attractive.

End of story.

“Why the hell did you make this so difficult, then?”

“Because I could.” She shrugged. “You certainly haven’t made my life easy.”

“Why? Because you’ve vomited twice in the last week from a tough workout?”

“I did not vomit. I burped.” She cleared her throat and tipped up her chin. “But you haven’t made my questioning very easy. So, I’m going to negotiate with you. And I won’t go easy on you either.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I get five questions.” She held up her hand when I started to interrupt. “One of those questions is off the record. I get to ask you something that you have passed on this week. I won’t write about it, but I want to know.”

“Why?” I grouched.

“Because I’m spending weeks with you, and I’m curious. You can ask me anything. It’s all off the record.”

“No.”

“No?” she said. “Fine. You’re on your own tonight, then.” She flashed a wicked smile.

“You really are a pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“No argument there.”

“There’s always an argument with you.”

“So, what’s it going to be? Just the usual three questions?” She smirked.

“Fine. Five. One is off the record.” I glared at her.

“Deal.”

“Why do I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil?”

She chuckled, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Because I knew she was going to ask me something I didn’t want to answer.

But for whatever fucked-up reason, I was willing to play along because I wanted her to come with me tonight.

And that made no sense.





nine





Brinkley





He finished up his workout, and I fought the urge to stare at him as he walked my way. He’d taken off his shirt today, and considering we’d swam together multiple times, I’d seen his chest before. I’d stared. I’d drooled. I’d forced myself to look away. But today, I was propped up on one of the benches, and I didn’t want to look away.

Let’s chalk it up to research.

His arms were pure muscle, his chest chiseled and cut. But it was his abs that had my attention. The man had at least an eight-pack. I’d been dying to count them the other day, but I didn’t allow myself that pleasure. Today, I was going to a high school surprise birthday party with him. The least he could do was let me peruse his perfect body.

He had a towel over his face, wiping away the sweat, and my gaze lingered on his tanned torso, moving down to a bit of dark hair that led to his happy trail. I licked my lips as I wondered what lay beneath those gym shorts. He’d made several references to the size of his hands and his feet, and if the myth was true, he was most definitely packing the goods.

I was in the moment just as a bulge strained against his shorts. Hell, the thing grew right before my eyes. I quickly snapped my gaze up to find him watching me.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” His voice was all tease, but it was gruffer than usual.

“I—no. I was just—” I tripped over my words. I paused to clear my throat and pull myself together. Was it hot in here? “I was thinking about the questions I was going to ask.”

“I see,” he said, running a hand over the scruff on his face. “Well, let’s get to it.”

I tried to shake off the fact that his giant schlong had just reacted to my attention. I followed him out to the kitchen, and he pulled out a fruit platter and two bottles of water. He had hired a woman to come here and stock his fridge and clean for him this last week, and I was definitely reaping the benefits of all the food in his house.

We sat at the kitchen table, and I pulled out my iPad that I’d brought with me these last few days so I could record and take notes at the same time. It helped me from staring at the guy the whole time, at least.

“So, I’m going to ask you the one that’s off the record first, just so you don’t try to weasel out of it by the end.”

“Fine. If it ends up outside of this room, I’ll cancel the interview indefinitely.”

“I’m a professional. You don’t need to threaten me. Have I told anyone anything thus far?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to see what Brandy knows tonight,” he said, but his smile was playful.