Author: Jaci Burton

They rode up and Cole helped Savannah up the ramp toward the windows.

She leaned forward to look out.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t believe it took me so long to get here.”

She moved between the east and west windows, wandering in between the tourists who’d accompanied them. Cole leaned against the carpeted sill so he could look out over the lighted city, never more glad to be back home. Seeing the river on one side and the city on the other relaxed him.

This is where he belonged. This felt right to him. It was going to be a good season.

They left the Arch and Cole drove them a few short blocks to one of his favorite places.

The club was dark and had a moody atmosphere. He hadn’t been here in a while, had almost forgotten about it because he usually went to the other club these days.

This challenge with Savannah had reminded him of some of the old places he used to frequent, like this one.

Savannah gave him a dubious look as they grabbed a booth in the back of the club. It was quiet right now. The band must be on a break.

“Someplace else your groupies hang out?”

“I used to come here a lot. Not so much anymore. No idea who hangs out here.”

The waitress came by and they ordered drinks.

Savannah gave the place a once-over. Very dark wood paneling graced the walls. There was no ear-splitting loud music. Not a strobe or neon light in sight. The waitresses wore dark pants and tuxedo-like shirts and vests. There were business people in here. Some folks were dressed up. It was…classy.

Very much not a Cole Riley kind of place.

Several guys stepped up to the band area, pulled up trumpets and trombones and bass and guitars and started playing a slow, very mellow song. A woman got up and started singing, her voice melancholy and filled with lost love and regret.

Surprised, she looked at Cole. “It’s blues music.”

He raised his glass to her. “Yeah.”

She listened for a while as the song sank deep into her bones. She closed her eyes and let the lyrics and the notes fill her as she sipped her most excellent wine. The singer’s voice was deep and throaty and filled with pain.

She turned to Cole. “I love this.”

“I thought you might.”

Then she smiled. There were obviously facets to Cole she hadn’t explored yet, parts to him he didn’t let people see. All the media saw was the party Cole, the angry Cole. That side of him was definitely present, but she’d enjoyed seeing the city from the top of the Arch tonight. It had been so thoughtful of him to take her there. There was nothing more fun than playing tourist, especially when a native indulged you like that.

And this club? Heavenly. She relaxed into the booth and every bone in her body melted into the music.

“What kind of music do you like?” Cole asked.

She sat up and faced him. “All kinds, really. Everything from classical to hip-hop.”

“Eclectic, aren’t you?”

“A bit. How about you?”

“I’m a fan of country, blues, and jazz.”

“And yet you go to the clubs. Where the autotuned, electropop, dance music plays.”

He laughed. “Hey, I hang out at the clubs. I didn’t say I liked the club music.”

“Then why do you go there?”

“I like the people.”

“Because they’re such good friends of yours? The ones whose last names you don’t know?”

“You’re going there again?”

She decided to take a different approach. “Okay. Now that you’re home, tell me about your friends. Any friends from high school you still hang out with?”

“Not really. My two best friends from high school both live out of state now.”

“That’s too bad. So you don’t see them anymore?”

“One lives in Denver, and the other in Chicago. Whenever I have games there, we meet for dinner. Otherwise, no. They come home to see family over the holidays, and I’m usually home in the off-season, so our visits don’t coincide.”

“I’m sorry. I suppose now that you’re back you’ll make new friends.”

He rimmed the tip of his shot glass with his fingertip and gave her a lazy smile. “I already have.”

“At the club.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Those are groupies, not friends. You can make the distinction, can’t you?”

“I think you’re hung up too much on the friends thing. Guys don’t need close friends like women seem to. With guys, wherever we are, that’s who our friends are. We don’t call guys on the phone to chat for hours. We don’t go shopping together. Guys don’t need the bonding rituals that women seem to need.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She’d let that one drop…for now. But she’d get back to it, because he was wrong. He’d isolated himself for years, and there was a reason for it. Tonight wasn’t the night to discuss it in-depth.

Not when there was great music and amazing ambience. Instead, she listened to the band play and the singer belt out more mournful songs that filled her soul. It was captivating. This place was lovely and, though crowded, it was understated. No one came up to Cole and bothered him. He blended in and they were able to enjoy the band without being bombarded with women or the media.

“It’s still early,” he said, holding out her chair for her. “Let’s go take a walk.”

“Sure.”

He held the door for her, but instead of taking her to the car, he led her across the street. There was a festival going on near the riverfront about a half a block away.

“Can you walk in those things?” he asked, directing his gaze toward her heels.

She grinned. “Of course.”

“I think I should hold your hand.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Why?”

“First, because I’m afraid you’re going to trip and fall. And second, if this was a real date, that’s what I’d do.”

“All right.”

There were tents set up with beer and food, a live band up on a stage as well as crafts and all forms of entertainment. It was lively and the area was packed with people enjoying the festival.

Savannah was definitely overdressed, but she didn’t care. She loved watching the people mingle. The band was playing some very loud rock music, and the crowd was electrified.

Cole held tight to her hand as they strolled among the vendors hawking pottery, jewelry, artwork, and the like. Savannah enjoyed fairs like this, loved to stop at each tent to see what they were selling.

“Is this what you’d really do if you were out on a date?” she asked as they stopped to buy a drink from one of the food carts.

“Sure it is.”

She took a drink of the lemonade. It was tart and sweet. Absolutely perfect on a hot night. “Somehow I can’t see you doing a riverfront fair.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem your type of fun thing to do.”

“You don’t know me all that well, Peaches.”

He was right about that. She only knew him on paper. “That’s what this exercise is all about. Getting to know you better so I can clear up any misconceptions I might have about you.”

“Yeah, well, it seems like you have a lot of them.”

She tilted her head back to look at him. “Do I?”

“Obviously. You thought all I liked to do was hang out in nightclubs and have orgies with women.”

She gasped. “Now how could you possibly make that kind of generalization?”

“I don’t know. How could you?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, Cole, for a man you’re awfully sensitive.”

“And you’re a typical woman who judges on first impression.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not easily insulted,” she said with a laugh. “And if this is how you talk to the women you date, it’s no wonder you frequent the clubs.”

“What does that mean?”

She caught the frown and the way his body straightened as he tensed.

“It means in a club atmosphere it’s mostly groups. It wouldn’t be a one-on-one type of situation, so you don’t have to get close to anyone. The so-called date we had tonight was quieter, more time for one-on-one conversation, which allows a woman to ask probing questions, to become more intimately familiar with you.”

“And you’re saying I don’t want that?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“Hey, I like intimately familiar.”

“I’m not talking about sex.”

“Neither was I.”

Her lips curved. “Liar. You were, too.”

“Okay, maybe I was.”

They walked across the street to his car. She climbed in and he started the engine.

“So what would be your next move—if this were an actual date?” she asked.

He was silent as he pulled onto the highway and headed west. “I’d take the woman home.”

He did just that, and walked Savannah to her door. She took her keys out of her purse and was about to tell Cole good night.

“And if this were a real date, this is where I’d go in for the kiss.”

Before she could object, he had his arms around her, tugging her close, his mouth coming down on hers.

It wasn’t a forceful, demanding kiss. Instead, he brushed his lips across hers.

Shocked, all she could do was hold on to his arms. She opened her mouth and he slid his tongue inside. Warm pleasure spread throughout her body, wrapping her in a foggy sensation of want and need.

For a minute she forgot all about the purpose of this night. Instead, all she thought about was the way Cole held her, the way he lazily stroked her back when he kissed her. Up close, he smelled like everything she loved about a man—crisp, clean, and sensual. She lost herself in the way his lips moved over hers, the magical way his hands cupped the back of her head and tangled in her hair when he deepened the kiss. And when he pressed her against the door, his body aligning with hers, lord have mercy but she thrilled to the feel of him, all hard angles and planes.

All hard. All over, especially between his legs, where he rocked against her sex, making her wet and quivery.

She’d invite him inside, where he’d pull the zipper down on her dress and fill his hands with her breasts. She could already imagine his mouth on her nipples, his hand inside her panties, coaxing her to the orgasm she so desperately needed.

She whimpered.

“Invite me in, Peaches,” he whispered against her lips.

And then reality set in, and she remembered she wasn’t on an actual date with Cole.

He wasn’t hers to do with as she pleased. And she certainly didn’t belong to him.

She splayed her hands on his chest and gave him slight pressure.

He took a step back.

She swallowed, her body, her senses, still filled with him. She fought for breath, willed her rapidly beating heart to slow down while she made eye contact with Cole and silently begged for understanding.

He straightened, then his lips curved in a hint of a smug smile.

“And that’s what I’d do with a woman I was out on a date with, Peaches. Except it wouldn’t end there.”

He turned and got into his car, started up the engine, and pulled away.

Savannah opened the door, the cold of the air-conditioning inside doing nothing to quell the blast of heat burning inside her body.

No, it definitely wouldn’t have ended here.

Not if they’d been on a real date.

Not if he really belonged to her.

SEVEN

COLE HAD A WORKOUT AT THE TEAM TRAINING FACILITY the next day. It was his first time being with the entire team, to see how the offense would mesh together.

It was mainly drills today and working with the conditioning coaches. There’d be no formations, unfortunately. He was eager to get in a line and take a pass from Cassidy, show the Traders what he was capable of.