"Okay."
He'd put her off, for now.
But he knew she was going to bring it up again.
And he was going to shut her down again.
And he'd keep doing it.
For his own preservation, and for the safety of the secret he'd held all these years.
TWENTY-FOUR
THE BALL SAILED THROUGH THE AIR IN A PERFECT arc. Trevor never once took his eyes off it, though part of him recognized the safety on a path to his position. He dug in and pushed, racing to beat the corner to the first down line.
He reached for the ball and it landed right at his chest. The safety slammed into him and pushed him out of bounds. Holding tight to the ball, Trevor rolled to the ground.
The whistle blew, and Barrett Cassidy held out his hand. Trevor grabbed it and Barrett hauled him up.
"A few more steps, I would've had ya," Barrett said.
Trevor laughed. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?" Trevor slapped Barrett's helmet and the two of them trotted back to the line of scrimmage.
"Good catch," his coach said as the offense regrouped.
It was a grueling practice. It might be early October, but in Tampa, it was still hot. Sweat dripped down Trevor's neck, but he had to focus. He was playing catch-up with the team that already had played three games. They'd won two, lost the last one. He had to meet rookies and reinsert himself with his teammates again.
Nothing he wasn't used to, but it always took him a while to change gears from baseball to football.
He caught sight of Haven walking the side of the field. Andy the camera guy was there, too, taking shots of him at practice.
He hadn't seen much of her since they'd gotten back to St. Louis. He'd packed up and grabbed a flight right away, while she'd stayed behind to finish up footage to send in to her studio.
It had been three days. He'd missed her. He'd invited her to stay at his place, but she hadn't answered him. She'd told him she was arriving today, so she must have come right to the field.
He wanted some alone time with her, but damned if he knew when he was going to get it. That was why he was hoping she'd stay with him at the house.
After practice ended, he stopped and talked to his coach, George, for a few minutes.
"There's a rookie tight end that wants your job this year," George told him.
"Warrell Timmons," Trevor said. "Kind of a hotshot punk."
George laughed. "He's good."
"Not as good as I am."
George slapped him on the back. "That's what I like about you, Trevor. You're always so modest."
"You don't like me because I'm modest, George. You like me because I'm one of the best tight ends you've ever had."
"True. So why don't you give up baseball and play for us full time? You're not getting any younger and I'm tired of having to wait for you."
"Hey. I've got plenty of playing years ahead of me."
"So you say. But football's a hard game."
"Not for me it isn't."
"Those young kids like Timmons are coming up all the time. One of these days, one of them is going to push you right out."
Any other guy would be offended--or maybe paranoid. But Trevor knew his coach. There was a place for him on this team as long as he stayed healthy, kept his stats up, and wanted to play here. And every year some new hotshot like Warrell Timmons tried to shove Trevor out of the way. He knew he couldn't devote the entire season to playing for Tampa, so they had to develop new players at the tight end position.
And maybe Trevor couldn't spend the entire season playing, but he was good at helping the new guys.
"So you want me to spend some time with this kid?"
"If you wouldn't mind. Knock that chip off his shoulder and show him how the position is supposed to be played. Right now he has a God complex. He could do no wrong at the collegiate level. But you know how it is when you come to the pros."
Trevor cracked a smile. "I do. Consider it done."
This should be fun.
"But Trevor?"
"Yeah."
"Don't be too hard on the kid. He's had it rough, so he's overcompensating by playing the tough, cocky rookie, you know?"
Trevor scratched the side of his nose, remembering exactly what that was like. "Yeah, Coach, I know."
"Figured you did. This is his dream and I know that. I've tried to talk to him, but he's not getting rid of the attitude."
Trevor nodded. "Gotcha, Coach. I'll handle him."
Instead of walking off the field, Trevor went over to where Warrell was gathering up his stuff.
"Good practice today."
The kid stood, straightening himself, trying to tower over Trevor, which was hard to do considering Trevor's height.
"Uh, thanks. You, too. You know, for an older guy."
Trevor laughed. Yeah, he popped attitude, all right. "Think you can beat me?"
Warrell puffed his chest out. "Know I can."
"Good. Let's put you to the test. If you have any energy left after practice."
"I've got plenty to spare, old man. Do you?"
"More than you. Let's do this."
Trevor called the receivers coach over, and they went through a series of drills. Warrell had great reflexes, but he was still young and didn't know the playbook as well as Trevor did, so on a wideout, one of the quarterbacks threw both of them a six-nine-six, and Trevor cut across the field, making a sweet catch and a run into the end zone, leaving Warrell in the dust.
They went through several formations, and while he was good, and had the potential to be great, it was obvious Warrell wasn't yet at Trevor's skill level. He had the stamina of youth, but not the experience.
And Trevor didn't intend to cut him any slack. The best way for Warrell to learn was to play with the best. And Trevor knew he was one of the best.
When the coach whistled for them to finish, they headed to the drink table.
"You're good," Trevor said. "Not as good as me, but you're still good."
Obviously not ready to back down yet, Warrell lifted his chin. "I'll get there. Once I learn all the plays, I'll give you a run."
Trevor grinned. "Well, you can try."
"Hey, you'll be off playing baseball, and I'll be here soaking up all the limelight and stealing the starting tight end spot right out from under you."
"Sure, kid. You keep thinking that."
Yeah, he had a chip all right. Trevor would keep working on him. He'd come around.
TWENTY-FIVE
HAVEN SHOULD HAVE KNOWN TREVOR WOULD OWN two houses.
Why she expected he'd have some condo here in Tampa she didn't know, but that was what she'd anticipated when she plugged his address into the GPS of her rental car. Instead, she ended up here at the water's edge on the other side of Tampa, in Clearwater.
The views of the water as she'd driven along were gorgeous. The sun hit the bay, glinting like blue diamonds. What she wouldn't give to live in a place like this. She'd grown up in Oklahoma, where there were plenty of lakes to hang out at in the summer, but nothing like this kind of water with endless views. She wished she hadn't been driving, so she could have gawked more.
She'd always loved the water. So had her dad. She and her parents would take the boat out onto the lake in the summer. God, that had been fun when she was a kid.
She pulled up in front of the house. It nestled against the water, so the location was perfect, but still, she'd expected something entirely different for Trevor.
This place was not at all like the grand old mansion-type house he owned in St. Louis, either.
This was a baby blue frame house with white shutters. An older home, it looked a little run-down, but wow, the views of the water were spectacular. And she'd only seen the front.
Trevor had given her a set of keys at practice and told her to let herself in and make herself at home.
Actually, she'd planned to stay at a hotel, but hell, she'd missed him, and he said there was a guest house if
she really wanted to stay in that, but there were also two guest bedrooms on a separate floor from the master as well.
What she really wanted was to stay in his room.
In his bed.
She'd figure all that out later. She stuck her key in the door and opened it.
Uh, wow. The inside was totally different from the outside.
Like . . . night-and-day different. There were dark wood floors all through the house, and as she made her way through the foyer, she stopped to take in the open-concept floor space, which opened up the entire downstairs, from the kitchen all the way through the spacious dining room and into the huge family room. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the deck and the water. She went to the doors and saw a pool and a boat dock.
"Amazing," she said to herself, then turned and went into the kitchen, which she was certain was larger than her old apartment back in Dallas. Stainless-steel appliances filled the space, along with beautiful maple cabinetry, and, as she ran her fingertips over the gorgeous granite countertops, she wondered if she could just hang out in the kitchen the entire time she was here. It was a cook's paradise, and she'd love to cook on that amazing stove.
She continued the tour into the next room, which was a workroom, complete with a built-in wall desk that ran along all four walls.
She went outside, grabbed a suitcase, and rolled it up to the second floor.
Uh, wow. Each bedroom was huge, but she took the one with the view of the water. She didn't want to make presumptions. Maybe Trevor didn't want her in his bedroom, and she wasn't about to make that decision without his input.
Besides, this room was awesome.
She stepped outside the room and saw stairs leading to a third level, so she wandered up. The door was shut and she assumed it was Trevor's room. She felt weird about invading his privacy without him being there, so she went back to the other level.
Not that she had any complaints, since the bedroom she'd chosen was plenty big enough for her, and also had a walk-out deck overlooking the water, and an oversized bathroom. She'd definitely enjoy that room.
She dragged her other suitcase upstairs and unpacked. Since she had no idea what time Trevor would be back, she decided she might as well make herself at home. She changed into her swimsuit, put on her cover-up and slid into her sandals, then grabbed her notebook and went downstairs to browse the kitchen.
She opened the fridge and her eyes widened. Not only was it completely stocked, it was . . . ridiculously organized. Drinks were lined up side by side on the top shelf, juices on one side, milk, beer and soda on the other. Then condiments were loaded in the door, by color or something. Lunchmeats were in color-coded containers. It looked like an OCD paradise in the refrigerator. But it was well stocked with food of all types, plenty to drink, and a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables. After familiarizing herself with what was in all the cabinets, she made herself a glass of iced tea, then headed outside onto the deck.
It was hot, but there was a breeze coming in from the water. She pulled up one of the chairs and spread out the towel she'd found in the cabinet on the deck. Obviously, Trevor thought of everything. Or he had someone else think of everything. She'd put sunblock on before she'd put on her bikini, so she slid on her sunglasses and started making some notes.
It wasn't long before the beautiful day distracted her. She laid her notebook down and stared out over the pool, the heat outside making her sweat. But as her gaze drifted, she caught sight of the boat, her mind awash in memories of her and her mom and dad taking the boat out in the summer. Her dad would drive the boat while she and her mom water-skied or rode on the tube. Sometimes, they'd go fishing.
She felt a small pang in her chest, but this time, the memories were sweet ones instead of painful.
She exhaled in relief. Maybe things were getting better.
The sun heated her skin, so she set the notebook on the table and took off her sunglasses, then dove into the pool. The water was cool, refreshing, and she swam a few laps before pulling up on the steps.
This place was idyllic. She saw several boats going by. The location of this house was ideal. Trevor had really done well for himself. She was happy for him.
She got out of the pool and sat, letting the sun dry her. She was going to reach for her notes again, but she yawned, put her sunglasses on, and tilted the chair down, flipping onto her stomach. She'd gotten up before the sun came up this morning to take an early flight, and she was exhausted. Maybe she'd take a short nap.
She closed her eyes, the sound of the water and the boats going by lulling her to sleep.
TREVOR PARKED IN THE GARAGE AND GRABBED HIS team workout bag out of the backseat, then headed inside, tossing his bag on the nearby table by the door. He saw a purse on the counter.
Haven was here. Good.
"Haven?" He went straight for the fridge to grab an energy drink. It was hot at the team facility today, and he was drained. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow as he made his way into the office.
She wasn't there, so he went upstairs.
She'd arrived, because he saw her things in the bedroom.
The guest bedroom. Huh. He wondered why.
He'd have to fix that.
He went downstairs.
"Haven?"
Still, no answer. He went to the back door and looked out, smiling as he saw her lying facedown on one of the lounges.
Obviously making herself at home, just the way he wanted her to feel.
He dashed upstairs, changed into his swim trunks, and came back down, quietly opening the French doors leading to the deck.
It was obvious Haven was asleep. Her arm hung over the edge of the chaise longue, and she was facing him, but she didn't move when he stepped outside.
And damn, she looked good with all that skin available to look at, her red-and-white dotted bikini barely covering her gorgeous body. She was well tanned, and she had a fine ass and long legs. She'd undone the top, so her smooth back was exposed.
He'd missed her. It had only been a couple of days, but dammit, he'd missed seeing her, missed touching her, kissing her, and feeling her body against his when he went to sleep at night.
He didn't like being separated from her.
And he didn't like what that meant. He enjoyed being single. And he had a secret he needed to keep, which meant he couldn't become attached to a woman. Because getting involved meant trusting someone with that secret.
He had never let anyone in--at least not a woman he cared about. Only a couple of people outside the family knew, and they were business associates. They were paid very well to keep his confidence. He didn't think a woman he was in a relationship with would ever understand the closely guarded secret he'd held for so many years.
Maybe Haven would, but he wasn't ready to take that chance yet.
But Haven had shared her grief with him. She'd allowed him to see her vulnerable and in pain. Maybe . . .
No. Besides, what she'd shared had been different. He didn't even want to think about all the ramifications of sharing his secret.
Taking a deep breath, he ran and jumped into the pool, deliberately making a loud splash before diving deep and skimming the bottom. When he surfaced, Haven was sitting at the edge of the pool, smiling at him.
"Now there's an entrance. Sorry, I fell asleep."
He pulled himself up on his elbows, resting against the side of the pool next to her. "Long day?"
"I got up early. How was your day?"
"Good. Tough practice, and it was hot out there. I'm used to it, though."
She tilted her head to look at him. "I'm sure you are, being a superstar and all."
He grinned. "Yeah, that's me."
"Nice place, by the way."
"Did you give yourself the tour?"
"I did. It's a very impressive house. I was surprised by the outside. It didn't look like you at all."
He arched a brow. "Yeah? What did you expect?"
"I don't k
now. Something . . . mansionlike. Like your other place."
He gave her a look and she laughed. "Seriously, I'm surprised you have two houses. I thought maybe you'd have a condo here."
"I just wanted a place by the water. This house was a dump when I bought it. I had it redone on the inside. It's still a work in progress."
"It's beautiful. And I can tell it suits you."
He couldn't help but enjoy the compliment, especially from her. "Is your room okay?"
"My room is fantastic. The deck is amazing, and the bathroom is incredible. So is your kitchen. I hate my apartment in New York. The kitchen is awful in there. It's a tight squeeze, with a midget refrigerator and no counter space, which always makes me sad because I love to cook. I get so tired of eating take-out food."
"And I love to eat. You're welcome to use any part of the house you want. Especially the kitchen."
"Awesome. I assume you don't have a chef here like you do in St. Louis?"
"No. Hammond stays there and doesn't travel with me."
"Too bad. I was getting spoiled by his cooking. But it'll give me a chance to play in your kitchen."
"I'll look forward to that."
"So you invited me here to do your cooking for you." He laughed. "Yeah, that was the only reason."
She pulled her sunglasses off. "I can see I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."
He loved looking at her eyes. With her sunglasses off, and her hair previously wet from swimming, she was makeup free and looked gorgeous.
"I missed you," he said, tracing his finger over her kneecap. She took a deep breath. "Did you?"
"Yeah."
Dangerous territory, that he shouldn't be venturing into. Getting emotionally involved with Haven was only going to cause trouble, because once she was finished with this assignment, he was going to have to let her go.
And he would let her go. He'd have to.
But right now he couldn't help himself, especially since she was staring back at him, making him want to climb out of the water, run his hands over her body, and kiss her until this fire that had barely banked with his swim in the pool consumed them both.
"Well." She laid her palms on the tops of her thighs. "Speaking of food, I'm kind of starving here. How about you?"
He was starving for a taste of her, but he could wait. "Yeah. I'm hungry. I can take you out to eat."
She shook her head. "If you don't mind, I'd rather eat here. You have plenty of food in your refrigerator, and like I said, I'm kind of geeking out over your kitchen."