Quarterback Draw

  "Good for her. You can cut up these vegetables, and then the meat."

  "Now you're talkin'." He grabbed the chef's knife from the butcher block on the counter, and went through the vegetables, then sliced the meat and handed it to Katrina. She'd already set the rice in the cooker and had the wok warmed, so he picked up his beer and watched her work. She added seasonings to the meat and let that simmer, while Anya had taken the rice out and started making fried rice.

  "My stomach is grumbling just watching you two--and smelling whatever it is you're seasoning the food with."

  "It's my own recipe," Anya said, cracking two eggs to fry before adding those to the rice. "And Katrina has a special marinade for the meat."

  Katrina looked up at him. "See? We work as a team here. Though, honestly, Anya does a lot of the cooking. It's kind of a treat when she lets me in the kitchen."

  Anya smiled. He liked seeing the kid so happy. And maybe there wasn't as much animosity between the two sisters as Katrina thought.

  Katrina seemed relaxed, easily moving around the kitchen, as if this was something she did all the time. Maybe he had preconceived notions about supermodels--like they had personal chefs to cook for them and butler service. He'd dated plenty of high-profile and high-maintenance women, the kind who liked to go out to fancy restaurants--the type that liked to be "seen." And here was this woman who was happy to stay at home and cook with her sister.

  Katrina definitely surprised him.

  "Leo, time to set the table," Katrina said as she poured out the vegetables onto a serving platter and set the meat into the wok.

  "Anything else I can do?" Grant asked.

  She motioned with her head. "There's a wine fridge over there. Pick something out and open it up?"

  "Sure."

  He selected a bottle and opened it, setting it on the dining room table to breathe. Then he helped Leo finish setting the table, bringing some of the food over as well.

  "It smells good, doesn't it?" he asked Leo as Anya and Katrina brought the meat, vegetables, and rice to the table.

  "Anya and Kat can definitely cook," Leo said, taking his seat. "We don't complain about that."

  "Kat taught me a lot about cooking," Anya said. "She brought me in the kitchen with her when I was little and let me start helping her. And I learned more on my own."

  "No," Katrina said. "You don't complain about the cooking thing. You just complain about everything else."

  Anya shrugged. "It's in the teenager handbook. Chapter three is titled whining, moaning, and complaining. Didn't you read it?"

  Katrina placed her napkin in her lap and graced her sister with a benevolent smile. "Read it, highlighted it, and made notes in the margins."

  Grant smiled. "This conversation is making me miss my brothers and my sister."

  "You have brothers?" Anya asked.

  "Three of them. One is older and two are younger."

  "How old is your sister?" Katrina asked as everyone began to scoop food onto their plates.

  "Mia is twenty-one."

  "And your brothers all play sports like you," Leo said.

  Katrina shifted her gaze to Leo. "You know a lot."

  He shrugged. "You just assume I only play video games in my room. I know sports and players. Like Grant. His family is famous. They're a dynasty. His dad is a Hall of Fame football player, too."

  Katrina looked at Grant. "Is that right?"

  Grant swallowed, then nodded. "Yeah. He played football for Green Bay for his entire career--fifteen seasons--until he retired."

  "Wow," Anya said. "And your brothers play football, too?"

  "Barrett and Flynn do. Tucker plays baseball."

  Katrina leaned back in her chair. "Fascinating. Does your sister play sports?"

  "She plays for the soccer team at her college. As far as I know she isn't planning on a professional sports career. She says the rest of us have that covered."

  Katrina laughed. "It certainly sounds like you all do. Your poor mother. I can only imagine what that must have been like."

  "What?"

  "Wrangling all you boys to all those practices? I assume you all played when you were little?"

  "Yeah. We all played baseball, soccer, and football."

  She laid her fork down and stared at him. "While your father was off playing pro ball? How did she manage?"

  "A lot of helping hands. We have a big extended family, so that helped. My dad has three brothers, so they and their wives would help out taking us to practices and games since Mom couldn't be everywhere at once, especially if Dad was on the road."

  "Oh, that's nice. I'm sure they were a huge help to her."

  "We didn't have a large family," Anya said. "So when our mom died, and Dad was gone, it was just Kat around to take care of us."

  Grant looked over at Anya. "That must have been tough for all of you."

  "We managed. We give Kat a hard time, but we could have ended up in foster care if it wasn't for her. She dug in and made them give her custody of us. It was hard for her."

  Big statement for a teenager to make. Anya understood a lot. Grant wondered if Katrina realized she wasn't the only one who understood the responsibility she'd carried.

  "It wasn't hard at all," Katrina said. "We're a family and it stays that way."

  "That's been her line for the past ten years," Leo said with a wry grin.

  He liked this family, the way they gave each other a hard time, yet he could still see how much she loved these kids--and how much they loved her back. It reminded him so much of his own, and made him realize it had been a while since he'd seen his family. He was going to have to make time for a visit.

  They finished dinner and Leo immediately set about clearing the table, loading the dishwasher and washing the pots and pans without complaint.

  "Good setup for you," he said as he sat back and finished his wine. "You and Anya cook and Leo cleans up."

  "Anya actually does most of the cooking now. I don't have to do much at all."

  "Free labor, is what she means," Anya said from the kitchen.

  Grant laughed. "Yeah, we all had chores when we lived at home, too. Someone was on yard duty. Someone had dishes and trash duty. Somebody had to clean the bathrooms--which, by the way, was the worst."

  "That's because you had all those boys," Anya said. "Thank God we have housekeeping service to deal with that. Ick."

  "Yeah. Doing dishes is bad enough. And speaking of those, we're done." Leo hung up the dish towel and came into the living room. "Bobby asked if I could come over tonight. Do you mind?"

  "And Leah wanted me to spend the night," Anya said. "Is that okay?"

  Katrina looked at both of them. "You guys. No. We have company."

  "Really. It's okay with me," Grant said. "I had a great time with both of you today, but it's not necessary for you to hang out with me the rest of the night. Providing it's all right with Katrina."

  She looked at Grant. "Are you sure?"

  "Positive."

  "Awesome," Anya said. "I'm going to go pack a bag then call Leah. She said her mom will come meet us."

  "I'll go grab my stuff." Leo started to turn away, then stopped and pivoted to look at Grant. "Hey, thanks for today. It was fun. And for the football stuff."

  "You're welcome."

  "Yeah, what Leo said," Anya said. "Except for the football stuff, though it was interesting."

  And in seconds, they had both disappeared into their rooms, only to reappear about five minutes later, both of them hustling out the door.

  "That was fast," Grant said.

  "It always is when they have things to do with their friends. Leo's best friend lives in the building, which is convenient, and Leah only lives two buildings away, so Leah and her mom will walk down to meet Anya."

  "It's great they have friends so close."

  "Yes. At least one thing I don't have to worry about."

  He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You should worry a lot less. The
y're great kids. Awesome, really. You've done a fantastic job raising them, Katrina."

  She stood, stretched. "Well, thanks."

  He could tell she was uncertain, maybe a little uncomfortable now that they were alone.

  "Kat. I like that name. It suits you."

  Her lips curved. "They've called me that since they were little. It just kind of stuck."

  "Does everyone call you that?"

  "No. In professional circles I'm Katrina. Only people close to me call me Kat. Just the kids, really. I should check on them, make sure they got where they were supposed to."

  "Sure. I'll open another bottle of wine while you do that."

  He had no intention of drinking any. He had practice tomorrow. But she was wound up tight and needed to relax. He had no idea if he was the one making her tense, or if it was something else. He intended to get her to drink another glass and see if he could wind her down some, get her to talk to him.

  He grabbed a glass of water for himself after pouring wine for her, returning to the living room just as she hung up the phone and laid it on the coffee table.

  "Kids okay?"

  "Yes."

  He handed her the glass. She took it, then looked at him. "What are you drinking?"

  "Water."

  She sipped her wine. "So you're trying to get me drunk?"

  "Nope. Trying to relax you. You seem tense."

  She took a deep breath, then sat on the sofa. "You're probably right. I am tense."

  He laid his water on the coaster on the table, then sat next to her. "Why?"

  "I don't know. You, probably."

  "Me?"

  "Yes." She took another swallow of wine.

  "I make you tense? Why do you think that is?"

  "Because you make me think about things I don't have time to think about."

  Now it was getting interesting. "What kinds of things?"

  She shrugged. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

  Before she'd been direct, even doing her best to get rid of him with blatant honesty when they were in Barbados. So why was she avoiding him now? "Oh, no. You don't get to throw that out there, then deflect." He took her glass and laid it on the table, then grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "What are you thinking about when you're with me?"

  She drew in a breath. "Kissing. You touching me. I liked your hands on me when we were in the gym earlier."

  There it was, and oh, man did he like hearing her say it. "I can do something about that, you know."

  She shook her head and stood, wrapping her arms around herself. "Not here. Leo's just a few floors down. He could pop back in anytime."

  He went over to her and wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the sweetness of her scent. "So why don't you find out if Leo can spend the night with his friend?"

  She pivoted to face him. "They could still come back. I wouldn't be comfortable or relaxed enough to ... enjoy being with you."

  He got the idea there was more to it than that, but he'd have to respect her decision. "Okay. How about another night?"

  "Don't you have to leave town after your game?"

  "Eventually. Make arrangements for the kids and come stay with me at the hotel the night after the game."

  "I couldn't. The kids would know I was with you."

  He rubbed her arms. "And that's a bad thing?"

  "I ... I don't know."

  "You're an adult, Katrina. You're entitled to have a relationship. Leo and Anya seem like smart kids. I don't think they'd mind if you spent some time with me."

  She walked away and went over to the door leading out to the terrace. "I know that. It's just me, really. I'm a lot more concerned about things like this than I should be."

  She turned to him. "Maybe it's better that we're just friends."

  He had no idea what was going on with her, but he wasn't going to walk out and let it end like this.

  He stalked over to her and drew her into his arms. "I don't fucking think so. And I don't think you want that, either."

  He held her just a breath away, his gaze meeting hers, a storm of emotions in her eyes. He felt the draw, and this tension wasn't the kind that made her want to pull away.

  He put his mouth on hers, felt her surrender even before his tongue slid between her lips. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he explored the softness of her mouth, tasting her, claiming her, letting her know that friendship wasn't at all what he wanted from her. And when she sagged against him, when one of her hands wound around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair, the other hand clutching his shirt, he tasted victory.

  Her moan was as sweet as her taste, and he let his hands slide down over her back, relaxing a little now that he knew she wasn't going to bolt. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to take his time kissing her neck, that sweet spot on her collarbone, and her back. He wanted to get her naked and explore her skin with his hands, his mouth, and his tongue. He'd seen so much of her body in Barbados, but they hadn't been alone and it had been for work--his hands on her then had been professional.

  Now he wanted to get really goddamned personal with her body, but he understood she wasn't relaxed enough for that. He needed to get her alone, behind a locked door where neither one of her siblings was likely to burst in at any second. He needed her calm, tranquil, and stress-free, not thinking about anything but what the two of them were doing together.

  But right now he enjoyed having her mouth under his, tasting and teasing her lips and having her body snake against him in a way that felt urgent and needy and made him hard. Which he had to agree was probably not a good idea since they didn't have a guarantee to be alone.

  So he was the one to lighten the kiss, to slide his hands from her back to her arms, even though what he wanted to do was grab a nice handful of her sweet ass. He was the one to eventually break away, take a deep breath and rest his forehead against hers, fighting for control when all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and take what she seemed so willing to give.

  She tilted her head back and her eyes were a storm of emotion. Confusion, desire, and regret, all packaged up in a blue purple haze. It took every ounce of strength he had not to kiss her again.

  "Grant," she finally said, her voice a strangled whisper.

  "Yeah, I know. I need to go, because otherwise I'm going to take you to your bedroom and I'm not going to give a damn who comes through the door."

  She swallowed. "Yes. You need to go."

  He blew out a breath. "Mind if I finish my water first? I have an issue here that needs dealing with before I go out in public."

  Her gaze drifted to his erection and lingered there before moving back up to meet his eyes. Yeah, that did nothing to help.

  "Oh. Sure."

  He needed to get away from her, away from the looks she was giving him. Otherwise he was never going to leave.

  He downed the contents of the glass in three gulps, mentally thinking of football plays and strategies for the game as he did. Getting his mind off Katrina and onto the game helped. By the time he turned back to her, she had moved into the kitchen, putting some space between them.

  "I'll get tickets to you for Sunday's game."

  She nodded. "Great. The kids will like that."

  "I'll talk to you."

  He walked out the door, feeling like he'd left unfinished business in there.

  He had.

  Katrina.

  TEN

  KATRINA HAD NEVER BEEN TO A PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL game before. She'd watched games on TV with Leo and Anya, and she liked football, but she didn't know as much about the game as they did.

  When the tickets had been messengered over, Leo had been so excited he'd had to text all his friends about going to the game, and that Grant Cassidy himself had gotten them tickets.

  He'd even gotten a haircut, which had shocked her.

  She was amused by his fanboy attitude. Leo was always so laid back, like he didn't care about anything. Who knew he was such a
football fanatic? She wished she'd known earlier so she could have gotten him into football.

  Though she wasn't sure she would have agreed to it without Grant's influence and suggestion. She still thought it was a rough sport.

  And now she could see all the players up close--though they were in a club box, so it wasn't like they were on the field or anything. But still, it wasn't like watching it on television. She was seeing it live, and those guys were so big, so muscular, and as she shifted her attention to her little brother, she couldn't fathom how he could compete with men like that. To her, he would always be that vulnerable five-year-old, confused about where Momma had gone, and looking to her for love and guidance because she was all he had left.

  Maybe she'd been a little overprotective of him and Anya, but they were all she had, too, and she wasn't about to let anything happen to them.

  "Aren't these seats great?" Anya asked, plopping down in one of the cushioned seats in the skybox. "I can't believe we get to sit here and watch the game. Free food, too."

  Her sister had a plate filled with all kinds of interesting foods. Leo pulled up a seat next to his sister, food in one hand, a can of soda in the other.

  "Glad you two are settled. I guess I'll find myself something to eat."

  "Oh, and a woman I met up there said this was one of the boxes where team family members sat, so you should introduce yourself as Grant's wife." Anya snickered at her.

  Katrina rolled her eyes. "You're so funny."

  She went over to the food table. Anya was right. There was an amazing array of delicacies to be had. She couldn't decide, so she stood there, surveying everything.

  "It's hard to reconcile what your stomach wants with what your common sense and waistline tells you not to eat."

  Katrina turned to find a gorgeous blonde standing next to her. "I might just say the hell with common sense and my waistline."

  The woman held out her hand. "I'm Savannah Riley. And you're Katrina Korsova."

  "I am. Nice to meet you."

  "I've seen your pictures like ... everywhere, and I've caught a few of your runway shows. I'm a big fan."

  "Thank you." Typically women didn't like her. This was a surprise.

  "I didn't know you were dating one of the Traders."

  "I'm not. I only recently met Grant Cassidy. We did a photo shoot together. He offered my brother and sister and me tickets to the game today."

  "Oh, Grant. I like him. Where are your brother and sister?"

  "Stuffing their faces over there on the back row of seats." She pointed them out.