Jaci Burton (22 page)

Savannah lifted her chin. “I’m a strong woman. I can resist.”

“Sure you can, honey.”

This conversation with Liz was not helping. “My career is my number one priority. I won’t let any man get in the way of that.”

“So was mine. Until Gavin came along.”

“Your situation isn’t the same as mine. You were already in love with him.”

“I was. But he didn’t know that when he came after me.”

“It still affected how you interacted with him once the two of you became involved.”

Liz took a swallow of tea, then set the glass down. “You’re right. It did. I was scared to death, afraid he’d find out how I felt, afraid the whole situation with Mick would blow up in my face. I’d already lost one client. The last thing I wanted was to lose another. I tiptoed around like a ballerina on pointe, waiting for the inevitable stumble of my career.”

Savannah took it all in, listening to Liz talk about her fears. “But it all worked out for you. You got the guy and kept your career.”

Liz nodded. “It turns out I was worried for nothing. I was afraid to fall in love, afraid I’d lose who I was, afraid he wouldn’t love me back. We were both so stupid.” She took a bite of salad and swallowed. “And I know with your background you must have triple the amount of fear I did.”

She shrugged. “I try not to let it influence my decision-making and the way I live my life, but I know it does.”

Liz squeezed her hand. “You know I’m a big old busybody and I want to interfere where my friends are concerned, but I’ll try to stay out of your way. Just know if you need me to talk to, I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you.”

“But just one piece of advice, if I may?”

Savannah smiled, knowing Liz wouldn’t be able to control herself if she didn’t interfere just a little. “Sure.”

“Open yourself up to the opportunity. Let him in and see what
happens. If nothing else, you go back to doing what you were doing before, with no change to your life. I’d hate to see you spend your life alone because you’re afraid.”

And she’d hate to hurt as much as she had when she was a child. She’d been left and rejected once. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to go through that again.

Sometimes never taking a chance at all was a better option than taking one and facing that rejection.

She was a strong woman in a lot of areas. In her career, she was fearless, going toe to toe with some of the biggest names in business and sports.

But in matters of heart and emotion, she was a big ol’ sissy, afraid to step away from the shadows of the past.

Maybe Liz was right, though. Maybe it was time to let that all go.

How else was she going to have a bright future?

“In time, I’ll be sure to do that. When I’m ready.”

“But not with Cole?” Liz studied her with that probing gaze she used on her clients.

“Not with Cole. It’s a conflict of interest. I just can’t risk everything I’ve built.”

“Up to you, sweetie, but I say don’t pass up a golden opportunity. They don’t come around all that often, and you don’t know when you might have another chance.”

Savannah smiled at her. “There are a lot of men out there.”

“Yes. But has any other guy made you feel like Cole does?”

She stared at her tea. “Never. Not yet, anyway.”

Liz laughed. “Trust me, Savannah. There aren’t that many men in this entire world who can put that kind of look on a woman’s face.”

She lifted her gaze. “What kind of look?”

“That sexed-up, pink-cheeked, dreamy-eyed, oh-boy-was-it-good kind of look.”

Savannah palmed her cheeks. “I do not have that kind of look.”

“Of course you don’t. I’m making it up.”

“Sometimes I hate you, Elizabeth Riley.”

Liz grinned and lifted her glass, saluting Savannah. “Why, thank you, Miss Brooks. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”

THIRTEEN

SAVANNAH KNEW THAT WORKING WITH COLE ON SOME
of the image makeover ideas she had wasn’t going to make him happy. He was resistant to thinking he was anything less than perfect.

Then again, he was a man, and men didn’t like to be told they needed to make changes in their lives. Ego and testosterone and all.

She understood that and she was trying to finesse this, but there were a few things that couldn’t be finessed, and he was just going to have to suck it up and take it.

It had dawned a miserably hot day, and even at seven a.m. Savannah knew it was going to be the kind of brutal day that made you wish you could stay inside, hibernating in the air-conditioning.

The site had no trees—at least not yet—so they’d have zero shade today. She fought back a grumble and sucked down her iced latte, determined to focus on Thomas and Selena Rogers, their three children, and the new house they were going to get.

Selena was beyond excited and Thomas was grinning ear to ear.
Savannah had worked with both of them on a couple other house builds as well as the start of their own. They were quiet and soft-spoken, generous with their time, and willing to do anything to help others. They were also still shocked and grateful to be so close to having their first home. They currently lived in a one-bedroom, which wasn’t at all comfortable for raising three children.

But they were together. Selena worked a full-time job and was in night school. Thomas worked two jobs and yet Savannah had never once heard them complain. And their kids were an utter delight. So smart and happy, always with smiles on their faces no matter their circumstances. Seeing those kids filled Savannah with joy.

Because they had love, hope, and most important, parents who loved them.

That counted for so much.

The crew was arriving, it was getting noisy, and as Savannah turned, she caught sight of Cole pulling his SUV onto the street. He greeted the foreman, who checked him off the list and got him set up with what he’d need for the day.

Lord. He wore jeans, a sleeveless shirt, and a ball cap he’d turned backward. He also had on scuffed, dirty work boots. When he strapped on the tool belt and headed her way, Savannah’s knees weakened.

She’d already resolved that their one night together was going to remain exactly that—one night. Her body apparently thought otherwise, because parts of her were tightening, throbbing, and jumping for joy.

She was stronger than her libido. She was. She could contain herself and not go over there, leap on him, and take a long, slow lick of his neck.

She took a deep breath and met him on the sidewalk.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Mornin’. Ready to pound some nails?”

She was ready to pound something, but it had nothing to do with nails, unless she was going to nail him. Which wouldn’t be appropriate in front of all these people.

Well. So much for her resolve, which was quickly melting in the morning heat. Thinking about business would help.

“Before we get started,” she said, “I want to talk to you about the media.”

“What about them?”

“They’re going to be here to cover the house building today, but also because members of the team are here.”

“Okay. So?”

“Make this about the house and not you, okay?”

“I will if they will.”

He started to walk away, but she touched his arm to stop him. “You know they won’t. They’re going to want to dig at you. Don’t let them.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, Peaches? Stand there and take the shit they dish out about me and my career?”

“For the most part, yes. Talk about the house project and the Traders’ involvement in it. Tell them how happy you are to be participating. Concentrate on the positive aspects of you being with St. Louis and downplay all the negatives of your past.”

“And what if that’s not what they want to talk about?”

“Then keep directing them toward the project. It’ll make them look bad if they keep badgering you about your past. As long as you smile and you’re positive, they’ll have nothing to say.”

He shook his head. “I’ll try, but I don’t think it’s going to play out like you think it will.”

“As long as you don’t argue with them or start a fight, it’ll be fine. Trust me. The less you engage with the media in a negative way, the better.”

“All I can tell you is I’ll do my best.”

She smiled at him. “That’s good enough. Let’s go build a house.”

Cole walked away and got started on the framing. Watching his body work was like visiting an art museum. He was all fluid motion, the play of muscles in his arms and back as he moved lumber and pounded nails a beautiful sight to behold. He worked alongside his teammates, something Savannah arranged for because this was also a team-building exercise as well as a charitable undertaking.

It worked, too. And looked amazing with the team working together to raise the frame of the house alongside the other volunteers. The media took pictures, which Savannah knew would make the local papers.

Good for the team. She grinned, put down her own hammer, and brought sandwiches and drinks to everyone as they stopped for lunch. She stayed out of Cole’s way because he was hanging out with Grant, Kenny, Jamarcus, and Lon as well as several members of the Traders’ offensive line. She wanted him to have that bonding time, so she ate her lunch with a few of the players’ wives who’d come along to help.

She was deeply engaged in conversation with Missy Sandell, one of the linebackers’ wives, when she saw a couple reporters bearing down on Cole.

“Excuse me, Missy,” she said, pushing back her chair to move closer to where the players were being interviewed as they ate lunch.

“We never saw you doing any charity work while you were with Green Bay,” one of the reporters asked.

“Maybe that’s because you’re a St. Louis reporter,” Cole answered.

Savannah winced.

“It would have made the national wire,” the reporter shot back. “You’re in the news a lot.”

“Only the negative stuff.”

One of the reporters laughed. “Well, face it, Riley. You do give us plenty to report on.”

Cole took a long swallow of water, then caught Savannah’s sharp frown. “But I’m here now, and happy to be working on this house today. The Traders are an amazing organization who put a lot of time, effort, and money into charitable efforts. I’m honored to be a part of this one.”

She exhaled. Good answer.

“Does this mean you’re turning over a new leaf?” one of the national news outlets asked.

Cole stood, wadded up his trash, and tossed it into the nearby bin. “Watch me and find out. In the meantime, we’re all headed back to work. Why don’t all of you drop those microphones, cameras, and recorders and put a little muscle into helping out this family?”

He walked away with the rest of the players. Savannah grinned. The interview started out shaky, but it ended perfectly.

There might be hope for Cole after all.

COLE LOVED WORKING WITH HIS HANDS.

Even in this brutal heat and humidity, sweat pouring down his back and getting in his eyes, he was focused on seeing this house take shape.

Besides hanging out with his teammates off the field today, which made him realize they were all pretty nice guys, he got to spend time with Thomas and Selena Rogers, the soon-to-be owners of this house they were building. They were great people. Enthusiastic, dedicated, and willing to give back to their own community.

They were also huge football fans, so they were ecstatic the Traders had showed up today to help work on their house. When the guys signed a football for them, gave them all jerseys and tickets
to one of the games, Selena was touched and Thomas was as excited as their two boys.

It made him realize Savannah was right. He hadn’t spent a lot of—okay, any—time in the communities he’d been a part of all the years he’d been playing. Other than writing checks to a few charities here and there, he hadn’t taken the time to get to know any of the people who were his fans.

That sucked. And needed to change.

He was beginning to see a lot of things needed to change.

“Feel good?”

He turned toward Savannah, who’d come up to stand next to him. She’d worn jeans and a Traders T-shirt today and had pulled her hair up in a ponytail. With her tennis shoes on and very little makeup, she looked fresh and sexy and gorgeous. And she had dirt on her nose. He used his thumb to swipe it away.