Kate Hoffmann - Brody

Payton groaned inwardly. Her attempt to learn more about him was swiftly turning into a full-out seduction. But then, they had plenty of time to go over the silly little details. “What is your favorite sexual fantasy?” she asked.

He laughed sharply. “How did we go from colors to sexual fantasies?”

Payton shrugged. “Just curious.”

He thought about his answer for a long time, then smiled. “There is this one. I’m asleep and I’m having this dream that there’s a woman in bed with me. And she’s doing all kinds of wonderful things with her lips and her tongue. And I open my eyes and it’s not a dream.”

“Has it ever happened before?” Payton asked.

“No,” he said.

“Your birthday is coming up. That could be arranged, you know.”

“Arranged? Only if you’re the woman I’m waking up to. I’d reckon that would be a bonzer prezzy.”

“Bonzer is good?”

“Very good. Great. Incredible. The best.”

“Hmm. That’s a lot to live up to. Maybe I should just buy you a bonzer watch. Or a bonzer shirt.”

“Do not tease me,” he said. “It’s my birthday. And as my girl, it’s your job to treat me special.”

Payton giggled. “It’s not your birthday yet.” Now that she’d decided to stay, she had every intention of making all Brody’s fantasies come true. Life-and sex-with Brody would be one long adventure.

T HE BUZZER ONthe security system startled Brody. Payton had left less than an hour ago to shop for a dress for tomorrow’s birthday celebration. He hadn’t expected her to return until just before dinner.

He pushed the button and leaned in. “Did you forget your key?”

There was a long pause on the other end. “I’m looking for Brody Quinn.”

“And who might you be?” Brody asked.

“Sam. Sam Whitman.”

Brody stepped back from the intercom, then cursed softly. What the hell was this? Payton had assured him that she’d called Sam and told him she would see him in the morning. Either he was a very impatient man or he wanted to talk to Brody directly.

Brody drew a deep breath. “She’s not here,” he said.

“I’m here to talk to you,” Sam said. “Man to man.”

Brody shook his head, then opened the front door and walked to the lift. If this guy wanted to talk, they’d talk. But Brody was going to have much more to say than “get the hell out of our lives.” As he rode the lift down to the lobby, he carefully schooled his temper. The last thing he wanted to do was punch the guy. There was no need to get physical. But he was prepared to take it that far if the situation warranted.

He’d seen the photo of Sam on the Internet and knew what to expect. But when he walked into the lobby, Brody was surprised at how slight he was. In a bar brawl, Sam Whitman wouldn’t last a minute.

To Brody’s delight, Whitman seemed to be a bit intimidated by Brody’s size. Brody had at least ten centimeters on him and a good fifteen kilos. “What do you want?” he demanded.

“I have some things to say about Payton.”

“She plans to stay here with me. She was going to stop by your hotel tomorrow morning and let you know.”

Sam paused, as if considering his next comment carefully. “You don’t find it unusual that she’d abandon her family and friends? Without a second thought?”

“No,” Brody lied. “Not after the way you treated her. She has a right to make her own decisions.”

“I think we both have to be honest,” Sam said. “Maybe I didn’t give her the attention she needed. And I’ll admit, I might have focused on work too much. But I can give her a very comfortable life. From what I know of you, you can’t.”

Brody quelled a surge of temper. He knew it was the only advantage that Sam Whitman had on him. And Whitman obviously wasn’t afraid to use it.

“I have some opportunities,” Brody said. “Besides, we can always live on the station with my family. Payton loves it there.”

“For how long?” Sam asked. “How long until the novelty wears off and she grows tired of being isolated from everything she knows and loves?”

He was saying the same things Brody had said to himself. “Do you honestly think you can buy her back?”

“No. But I believe if you really love her, you’ll consider what’s best for her. I believe if you’re selfish enough to keep her here, you’ll pay the price later. And by isolating her from her family and friends, you’re allowing her to avoid the consequences of her actions.” Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, then withdrew an envelope from it. “This is an airline ticket and enough cash to get her home.”

“What makes you think I’ll give this to her?”

“Because you want to know as much as I do,” Sam said. “You love her enough not to leave any stone unturned. Send her home. If she comes back to you, you’ll know she’s made her choice.” He held out his hand. “May the best man win.”

Brody bit back a curse. This guy was arrogant and condescending and in need of a good beat-down. But he was also right. If Brody did want to keep Payton in his life permanently, then she’d have to face up to her past mistakes. It was better to lose her now than later.

He reached out and shook Sam’s hand, then nodded. “She loves me,” he said.

“Then I guess you have nothing to worry about. Tell her goodbye. And I’ll see her back home.”

With that, Sam turned on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He watched as Sam jogged across the street and got into his car. Then Brody glanced down at the airline ticket. He ought to just toss it in the rubbish and forget it ever existed.

Why not? He could accept the risk that it would all explode in his face at some point. He’d have more time to convince Payton she’d made the best choice by staying. But Sam was right on one point. It was probably better to know how she really felt, before investing his heart in a relationship that was doomed from the start.

Brody walked back to the lift and pushed the button, then stepped inside after the doors opened. A single shot at an NFL career wasn’t enough. If he wanted to compete with Sam Whitman’s millions, he had to look at other options.

The moment he got back to his apartment, Brody found his phone and dialed the Dockers’ office. When the receptionist answered, Brody asked to speak to John Cook. When the assistant coach got on the line, Brody drew a deep breath and said a silent prayer.

“John. Brody Quinn here. Say, I was wondering if you still had the name of that bloke at Seven Network. You know, the one you thought might be able to find a spot for me as an analyst?”

To Brody’s surprise, Cook had the number at hand and encouraged Brody to make the call. They chatted for a few minutes about Brody’s knee and the possibility of surgery, but Brody cut the conversation short and hung up. After a half hour, he had a list of seven contacts for a wide range of jobs, from school coach to equipment salesman.

He stared at the phone for a long time, trying to put his thoughts in order. Then he tossed the phone on the sofa and stood up. This was far too important to bungle. The NFL would pay the best, but television was more secure. He’d follow Callum’s advice and write everything down first, the pros and cons of all his options.

Brody found a pad of paper, sat down at the table and carefully wrote out the skills that he possessed. He’d always been the club’s best student of the game. He read the opposition like no other player and could talk at length about a player’s strengths and weaknesses. He had a good mind for statistics and remembered almost everything he read. He didn’t stammer or mumble and his teammates had often teased him about his pretty face. And he was considered quite charming.