Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1) (6 page)

I bit my lip, realizing my social faux pas. But when was the last time I’d had to introduce anyone, never mind a boyfriend? “Oh, I’m sorry. Jude, this Dean Walker. Dean, this is Jude Hastings.”

They shook hands. A little tug of war ensued between them. The two men were the same height, but as an enforcer in the NHL, Jude’s body was more bulk muscular than Dean’s quarterback lean and mean frame. Both of their smiles tightened as they jostled. Was this over me? How juvenile of them and, in all honesty, of me for being a little thrilled at the notion.

Some secret guy language passed between them, and the standoff ended.

“Well, it was good to see you, Alexa. Don’t be a stranger.” Jude winked at me, which I think was more for Dean’s benefit than mine.
Men.

“What was that he-man display for?” I took Dean’s hand in mine and brushed my fingers over his palm. “Isn’t this your throwing hand?” Reaching his wrist, I felt the beat of his pulse under the pad of my finger.

“Just playing my part.”

His pulse jumped. I raised my gaze to see him swallowing a breath. Did my touch cause it? Impossible. “You could have an acting career once football is over.”

Dean winced. “Never, ever talk about that. It’s bad luck. Now I’m going to have to sacrifice a virgin to keep the football gods happy.” His hot gaze swept me from toe to head. “You wouldn’t happen to be a virgin?”

I snorted my reply. I’d had plenty of hookups over the years.

“With him?” Dean nodded to where Jude stood with a couple of beautiful women who were looking to score with the hockey star.

It hadn’t been like that between us in college. I hadn’t look like this back then. Hell, I hadn’t looked like this last week. I was the little sister, the best buddy, the one you asked for help with homework. It hurt to admit that not Jude, or any of the student athletes, had paid attention to me, so I played it off. “No. I don’t date jocks.”

Dean turned his gaze back to me and then to my hand still holding his. “You’re dating a jock now.”

I dropped his hand like it was on fire, which explained the flames licking in my blood like a lit match set to a trail of gasoline. “Not really. This is a job. I was assigned to you.”

“So this wasn’t your idea?”

“Hardly. I’m used to being undercover, but never as someone’s girlfriend.”

Dean smiled, placing his hand on the small of my back, and whispered in my ear, “So in a way, I am your first.”

Did that mean he planned to sacrifice me? A delicious chill skittered up from the base of spine where his thumb traced a circle.

“We should dance.”

“No, we should not,” I said, but Dean led me to the dance floor. “No, seriously.” Dean twirled my body. “You do know that I’m armed, right?”

“Yeah, and dangerous,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

My breath hitched, becoming shallow, as if I were dancing the salsa instead of swaying to the slow beat of some song I didn’t recognize. The oxygen had been sucked out of the room, I was sure of it.

“You smell like candy apples.”

And he smelled like spice and wickedness, while I’d never owned a bottle of perfume. “It’s my conditioner.”

“You feel good in my arms. Like you belong here.”

“You can tone down the act.”

“What if I told you it wasn’t an act?”

By the bulge pressing against me, he didn’t have to tell me, but maybe he should. Maybe I needed to hear it was all an act, because the fact that Dean had a hard-on for me was like a naughty fairy tale come true.

Another couple accidently bumped against us, jolting me out a lust-filled fog. Crap, I had forgotten why I was here. I looked to the left and then right for any possible threats. Other than a few curious stares, there was nothing out of place. I couldn’t see behind him though, and that was a problem. With the other guards probably more interested in the hot women gyrating on the dance floor, I needed to stay hyper-vigilant.

I tried to maneuver my dance partner so I could get a better angle.

“Are you trying to lead?” The look on Dean’s face was a mixture of shock and amusement.

“No, well, a little. I can’t see behind you.”

Dean turned, his fingers threading through my hair to place his hand at the back of my head, and then he dipped me. “There, is that better?”

Oh, no, it was not better. Not. At. All. For one, it was hard to see upside down, and two, I’d rather be looking into his smoky brown eyes, and three, wetness slicked between my legs.

He whipped me back up, his hand drifting to the base of my skull. Our bodies pressed together, and we were no longer dancing. His shocked and amused expression was replaced by the intense fever in his eyes. His mouth was inches away from mine, our breaths mingling, charging the air around us. My heart fluttered as if a thousand bees were suddenly released from a cage inside my chest. Dean unlocked something deep inside me. Something I needed to slam shut before there was nothing left to protect.

The song ended, and I made an excuse to use the bathroom. I took a deep breath before alerting the team that I was on break.

“Some fancy moves out there, Reeves.”

“Fuck off, Carter.” Heat flamed my cheeks, but at least I knew the team had all eyes on Dean.

Opening the door to the well-appointed bathroom, I was besieged by the smell of hairspray and perfume. I took the opportunity to use the restroom since I never could be sure when I’d get another chance.

I washed my hands, taking a cursory glance in the mirror. A tall blonde bombshell sidled up next to me.

“You know you’re gonna get hurt.”

I arched a brow. “And you are…?” I told myself I was only asking as part of my job, and I was, despite the jealousy blindsiding me. The feeling didn’t prevent me from noting how she’d said I’d get hurt, but failed to mention Dean doing the job.

“Just a friendly warning,” she replied with a shrug.

I wasn’t intimidated by her Amazonian height. She had no idea who she was messing with.

“I’d hate to see you get hurt,” she repeated.

Hoping to get a rise out of her, I said. “Dean makes it hurt soooo good though, doesn’t he?”

The mask of indifference transformed to an expression of hatred, worse than I’d seen on any mean girl in high school. Had I exposed Dean’s stalker?

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Suspect number one twirled around and headed for the stalls.

Hayden Middleton, reality star and wife of the NY Cougars’ quarterback said, “Don’t mind her. You’ll get used to the haters.”

“Who is she?”

“She was a cheerleader for my Dad’s team. I forgot her name. She probably blew someone to get in here.”

“Why isn’t she a cheerleader anymore?”

Hayden effortlessly swept the reddest of lipsticks across her second most famous body part. “She threatened another cheerleader.”

“Sounds like a Lifetime movie.”

“You have no idea. I’m Hayden.”

“Ree—” Out of habit I almost said Reeves. “Uh, Alexa.”

“So how long have you and Dean been dating?”

“Not long.”

“By the way, I love your dress.”

Did Hayden Middletown just say she loved my dress? Wait until I told Joffrey. Last week I was knee deep in kid duty, and now the queen of reality TV was admiring my outfit. Should I even be talking to the wife of Dean’s enemy—the wife of my Fantasy Football pick? “Um, thanks.”

“And I’d kill for your boots.”

What would the ex-cheerleader sweeping by us and out of the bathroom kill for?
Fuck.

“Thanks. I have to go. Sorry.” I didn’t have time for niceties and hoped Hayden wouldn’t take offense at my abruptness.

“Blonde at your six.”

“Well, that narrows it down. They’re all blonde,” said Carter.

“She’s wearing a shimmering blue dress.”

“Blue? Do you mean purple?”

Fuck!
“Yes, purple.” I cursed the partial color blindness that plagued me, keeping me from my childhood dream of being a police officer. Four years of straight A’s and a criminal justice degree down the drain over a stupid test. I’d aced the NYPD physical fitness exam, beating most of the men, yet a condition that affected mostly men prevented me from wearing a badge. Now that was fucking irony.

“Got her. She’s moving away from The King.”

My co-workers thought the code name I’d given Dean was based on his football team, but to my secret shame it was inspired by his dic pic.

And now I’d left him alone in a crowded bar. Well, not alone. Ian’s Security had personnel on the inside, but what if the so-not-a-cheerleader was the stalker? I’d dropped the ball. I had some nerve, accusing my male coworkers of endangering assignments.

As I weaved through the crowd, I was determined to squash any notions inside my head of Dean being anything other than a client, a body to be protected. It was a war of mind over matter.

“Purple Rain has left the building.” Carter had already given our first suspect a code name.

Relief engulfed me as I approached the bar. Dean’s charming smile made me wonder who would win the battle between my filthy mind and Dean’s mighty-fine matter.

Dean

A
lexa’s small hand
was in mine as we waited for the valet to pull up with the SUV. The same hand that held a gun on me sent a tremor of desire through my body. It was hard to reconcile the two different sides of Miss Alexa Reeves. I could guess which one she preferred, and somehow I had to change her mind. This had stopped being a game to be won or lost.

The paparazzi got their fill of photos of me with my new fake girlfriend. Only it didn’t feel fake, or rather I didn’t want it to be.

The valet pulled up, and Alexa swooped in to snatch the keys, leaving me to handle the tip.

A reporter shouted out, “Too drunk to drive, Walker?”

Fuck.
A headline like that was the last thing I needed. “Not at all.” I pulled out a twenty and handed it to the valet. I turned back to the reporter before sliding in to the passenger seat. “You got something against women driving, buddy?”

“Good comeback, liar.” Alexa smirked as I shut the door.

“What can I say? I’m a changed man,” I half joked.

“Sure you are.” She wasn’t joking at all. Before driving off, she handed over her phone. “Do you know her?”

The face of a pretty blonde, but just the same as the next pretty blonde, stared back at me. “No. Why?”

“Are you sure?” She put the directional signal on and moved out into traffic. “Swipe to the next pic.”

I did and took a closer look. The shot was taken outside the club, but I hadn’t seen her inside. Then again, I’d been too focused on my tiny dancer to give much notice to any of the other women there. “I’m sure. Who took this?”

“One of the other guards.”

“Why did they send it to you?”

She concentrated on the road, but it seemed like she was only trying to avoid answering. With the way she drove, she could talk and fend off an attacker at the same time. “Alexa?”

She took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “She approached me in the bathroom, warned me that I was going to get hurt.”

“What the fuck?” My mind reeled at the implications. By pretending to be my girlfriend had Alexa become the stalker’s target? She’d walked out of the bathroom, cool as a cucumber, picking up right where we left off, flirting and driving me crazy with want. “I have no idea who she is.”

“According to Hayden, she was a cheerleader with the Cougars.”

“You met Hayden?”

“Really? That is what you’re taking away from this conversation?”

I was such a dick, but if I was going to all this trouble to keep the threat a secret from my teammates, then I didn’t want someone like Hayden to use it against the Kings. “No. No. It’s just that… she knows you’re my bodyguard?”

“Of course not.” The edge in her voice relaxed as she continued, “We bonded over shoes and shit.” She parked the SUV in the assigned spot in the garage and turned off the engine. Still looking ahead, she asked, “Have you dated any of the Kings’ cheerleaders?”

“It’s against the rules.”

She turned to look at me. “I’ll ask again. Have you dated any of them?” She put the word
dated
in air quotes. The light from the dash was still on, illuminating her delicate features.

“Off the record?”

“Unless one of them becomes a suspect, then yes, off the record.”

Crap, I hated how this fun and potentially sex-filled night had turned to absolute shit. “Molly and Bridget. But it was last season.” Why was I acting so defensive about it? And why I was so concerned about the idea of her finding out that I did them together?

“Last names.”

“Uh…” While I remembered each woman’s face, I couldn’t say I’d ever asked for last names. What was the point? Odd that I knew Alexa’s last name before I even knew her first.

“Don’t tax your brain. It’s easy enough to find out,” she said in a clipped professional tone.

I hated that tone. I liked her snarky and heated. Striding across the street, she was in full bodyguard mode, unlike when she was in my arms earlier. When I dipped her, I’d heard her breath catch in her throat. I almost kissed her before she ran off to the bathroom. She had been a woman in the midst of my seduction. There was no pretend between us. She wanted me. I wanted her. It should be simple, but like a typical woman, she made it complicated.

We rode the elevator in silence. She stared ahead while I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her, hoping she’d looked my way. I missed the sexual tension sizzling between us but also, the camaraderie we built over the last few days. Thoughts of how I could bring back
that
Alexa rioted through my brain.

The elevator doors slid open, and she peeked out, looking both ways before stepping out into the hallway. At the door to the apartment, she pulled out the gun hidden in her bra.

“Wait here,” she ordered.

Not this time.
I followed Alexa from room to room, ignoring her commands to fall back.

“I’m not your employee.” If she thought I was going to stand idly by while she placed herself in harm’s way because of me, then she thought wrong. I wanted to be there to push her out of the way or even jump in front of her if it came down to it. Would it even be a bullet? The letter hadn’t elaborated on the means of my demise. A couple of days ago, I thought this was all a joke, but now I wasn’t so sure.