On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(34)

The dickhead.

“Me, too.” She smiled and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, as well.”

“It’s slightly out of character, as he normally despises journalists.”

“You don’t say?” She oozed sarcasm. “I wish I could say that I was surprised to hear that, but seeing as he got me fired for doing my job… I think that’s a fair statement.”

Drew laughed. “He’s just a big grump sometimes when he gets hounded. So, I’ll give you a heads-up. We have a little situation that happened in the last few hours. Jaqueline was asked about you in an interview this morning, as her five minutes of fame have clearly dwindled. But with your name being everywhere right now, I think she’s looking to get herself back in the spotlight. She has that new TV series coming out, so she’s obviously out there trying to get any attention that she can.”

My chest tightened. I could tell this wasn’t going to be good news.

“What did she say?” I asked.

“Well, she was asked by a reporter if she has any idea where you’re going to play and if you still speak to one another.”

“We don’t.” My shoulders stiffened. This was the side of this business that I despised.

“I’m aware, Linc. But she said she’s been with you while you’ve been,” he paused and held up his pointer and middle finger to make air quotes, “‘in hiding’. She acted like she knew the inside scoop and that you two had rekindled your relationship.”

“What the fuck? Why would she do that?”

“This is ridiculous,” Brinkley hissed as she crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

“We won’t respond, but I just wanted you to be prepared if you get hounded. You’re not in Cottonwood Cove anymore. The bloodhounds are out and rampant in this city,” Drew said before turning to Brinkley and wincing. “No offense meant.”

She chuckled. “Listen, there are two types of reporters. I don’t get offended because I don’t make up stories. I may be pushy about getting the truth out of people, but I’d never report on someone’s personal life based on gossip.”

I nodded as my eyes locked with hers.

She really was a friend of mine, wasn’t she?

She was getting all worked up about this instead of trying to spin a story for her own article.

She didn’t ask me if any of it was true. She already knew it wasn’t.

“I figured as much. This guy doesn’t trust easily, and you’re here. So that says a lot.”

She shrugged, but her lips turned up in the corners just the tiniest bit. Most people wouldn’t notice, but I noticed these things about her. Hell, I noticed a lot more than I wanted to admit.

She didn’t need to be here with me on this trip.

The truth was—I didn’t want to be away from her for the next few days.

I normally craved alone time, but since I’d started working with her, I couldn’t get enough of her.

We made our way outside to the car that Drew had waiting for us. My agent led the way, and I had Brinkley move in front of me, my hand on her lower back once I saw the guys with cameras lined up right outside the door. It meant that someone at the hotel had most likely made a call and tipped them off. It was shocking what people would do for money these days.

Sell a person out without so much as a thought.

“Lincoln, are you in town to meet with Coach Balboa?” one of them shouted, and I put my head down, urging her forward.

“No comment,” I said.

“Jaqueline Barrett said you two are back together. Is she helping you decide where you’re going to play?”

“No comment,” I said again.

“Jaqueline alluded that the two of you might be moving in together.” This time, the dude shoved his camera right in my face, nearly hitting me in the forehead.

Before I could do anything, Brinkley turned and stepped in front of me.

“Back the fuck off. He said no comment,” Brinkley hissed, her teeth grinding together.

Drew chuckled, and I stared with disbelief as the driver of our SUV opened the back door for us to slip inside.

“And who do we have here?” The man aimed his camera directly at her as I blocked his view and hurried her inside the car.

“Your worst fucking nightmare,” I said with a wink. “She’s the only one I’m giving my story to. Don’t waste your time hounding me anymore. You won’t get a goddamn thing out of me.”

I slipped into the car and pulled the door closed.

“Look at you, girl,” Drew said as he turned around to look at us from the front seat.

Brinkley buckled herself in as Drew told the driver where to go.

“That was rude,” she said. “He nearly hit you in the face with the camera.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” I glanced over at her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I liked it.

Liked seeing that side of her.

“I guess you’re right. There are a lot of bloodsuckers out there.” She shook her head, and I chuckled.

My hand grazed hers between the seat, and I didn’t pull it away.

And neither did she.





My meeting with Coach Balboa and Jeff Robles had gone exactly as planned. They’d offered me what we’d discussed, and I’d told them I was ready to make the move.