Chapter Twenty

To help ensure Charlotte didn’t wake up and immediately regret everything, Lance ordered coffee and asked them to bring more of the creamer she liked, since he’d noticed it was running low. He’d also added bacon, because bacon.

She rolled over in bed as he finished up the call, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“I ordered breakfast,” he said after he’d done a contortionist-worthy twist to get the phone back in its cradle without risking Charlotte slipping off him.

“I heard.”

He swiped the hair off her face and dragged his thumb over her cheekbone. “How are you feeling this morning?”

A contented sigh came out, punctuated by a brilliant smile.

“Good,” he said. “I was afraid you might regret crossing lines.”

She sat up, the sheet tucked across her breasts. “No. But that does remind me, I need to work up a new addendum and—”

He groaned. “I should’ve never said anything. And that can wait. Right now, we’re enjoying the chance to lay in bed for a few more minutes.” He tugged her back to him, wrapping an arm around her and planting a kiss on her lips. It’d been a long time since he’d woken up next to anyone, and he found that he liked it. He knew he couldn’t get used to it—not when his life and the team was in such upheaval—but none of the panic that’d accompanied some of his previous relationships came along for the ride.

Probably because she knew where he stood and he knew where she did, and that helped alleviate some of that pressure.

“They said the food would arrive in about thirty minutes,” he said. “Think that gives us enough time to take a shower?”

“Well, it’d certainly save time if we showered together, and we do have all that work to do.”

He brushed his lips across hers. “Have I mentioned I like the way your mind works?”

She surprised him by climbing over his body to straddle him and take control of the kiss. He happily let her have her way with him for a minute or two. Then he pushed himself up with her in his arms and carried her into the bathroom, where under the spray of water, they managed to amp up the steam even more.

…

After shower sex and breakfast, Charlotte had barely had time to rush to her room and change into fresh clothes before hurrying back to the “office” for the phone call with a prospective quarterback. His agent had contacted Lance yesterday while she was at the spa. His client was currently a restricted free agent who’d been wanting to play for someone different for a while.

As the thirty-minute call was winding down, Lance thanked him for taking the time to talk with them and for his interest in the Mustangs.

Charlotte was so lost in thought that Lance had to nudge her knee. “Oh. Yeah. Goodbye. It was nice chatting with you.”

“We’ll be in touch.” Lance disconnected the call and twisted on the couch to face her. “What is it?”

“You tell me your thoughts first.”

He looked like he was going to object, but then he braced his forearms on his knees. “He’s our top prospect so far. He’s willing to play for us, for one, and he’s got a hell of an arm. He has a few seasons under his belt, so he doesn’t have some of the issues a rookie would, but he hasn’t played for long enough that he’s so set in his ways it’s impossible to get him to change it up. I think we can make it work.”

She nodded. Then nodded some more.

Lance curled his hand around her calf. He picked up her leg and settled her foot in his lap. His fingers dug in, and she nearly moaned at how good it felt. Dancing all night in heels wasn’t for the faint of heart. “You have your reservations. Why?”

“I hesitate to voice them because I haven’t dug deep enough to know if the numbers will back me up.” She should’ve done a better job studying up on the guy before the call so she’d have more than the surface stats her brain automatically retained, but she’d chosen sex, and while she hated feeling unprepared, she didn’t regret it one bit.

“Tell me your gut instinct.”

Her lungs constricted, too many memories of her father getting upset about her failed hunches bobbing to the surface and increasing the pressure. “Gut instincts are sometimes wrong. Maybe my gut is just saying I’ve had too much coffee.”

“Charlotte. Spill.”

The dang guy could read her like a book, so she went ahead and let the thoughts bouncing through her brain pour out. “He’s been playing with some of the best, most seasoned receivers in the league, and when I mentioned that, he didn’t say one nice thing about them—just that he was ready to come up with some of his own plays and set his own records. He’s so entitled, and I could tell he thinks of us as either a stepping stone or his way to get famous quick.”

“There are plenty of entitled, self-centered players. Several who win championships.”

“He doesn’t play by the rules.”

“Ah. I can see how that’s a big strike in your book.”

She searched for the words to explain why everything in her was screaming wrong, wrong, wrong. “Right, but that combined with the other things… He got into a bit of trouble with the law back in college and was also under investigation for seeking improper benefits while being recruited. Not that it seemed to matter to his other team when they drafted him, but the last thing we need is a Deflategate on our hands.”

Lance sighed and ran his hand over his face, and she worried he was getting upset with the opinion she’d voiced.

“I could be wrong. I’m only a consultant. In the end, it’s your choice. The coach’s and general manager’s as well, if we have those in place before the draft in two weeks. But we could also think we have him secured, and he could be playing the field, promising several teams he’ll play with them to drive up his salary. Then if we do get him, we pay a lot and lose one of our draft picks.”

“Hey.” He gestured for the other foot, and she swung it up so he could give it the same treatment. “The reason I’m sighing isn’t because I disagree. It’s because my gut says no, too. I wanted you to talk me into him, since he’s the best prospect we have.”

“I can find a way to try to do that if you really need me to.”

He stared at her for a few beats before using his grip on her foot to tug her closer. He leaned over and kissed her. “You are smart and beautiful, and I’m so damn lucky that my grandpa hired you. I value your opinion and like that you’re so willing to help me however I need you to. I need your gut more than I need you to bullshit me.”

“Good,” she muttered against his lips. “Because I’m no good at bullshitting. And that guy just isn’t the one.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the one.”

“In football I do,” she said, although she was feeling more optimistic about the possibility of it in other areas after last night and this morning.

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers. “How are we ever going to pull this team together in time?”

“We’ll find a way. That’s the thing about not having a choice.”

“Maybe just an ounce of bullshit would be good about now.”

She laughed and slanted her lips over his, leaving her hand on the side of his face. “I promise we’ll get a team hammered together. It might be a bumpy ride, but we only have to win one game to be doing better than last year— That’s not even bullshit. Just a little sunshiney truth for you.”

He squeezed her foot. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Also, see how good we’re doing since signing the addendum for the l—dating contract?” She’d almost called it the love contract, which was the nickname she usually used for the Consensual Romance in the Workplace Agreement. Saying love—even as a nickname—seemed too serious and would probably scare both of them, and calling it a sex contract made it sound too Fifty Shades of Grey.

For now the Wedding Deal had been updated with the paragraphs she’d taken out before, putting their semi-undefined relationship in print to cover both of their asses. His as the boss and hers as the human resources manager.

“Yep,” Lance said. “Bonus, none of our nonexistent coworkers are uncomfortable with our PDA.”

Charlotte giggled and even held her hand up for a high five. “Killing it.” The loud smack of their palms filled the air.

“Hey, another reason not to hire anyone else. Silver lining right there.”

“Sure. You play quarterback, I’ll be your tight end.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Then you can also coach while I do the GM thing. And human resources. And…I might need a raise. But now that we’re in a personal entanglement, you can’t give that to me, so…” She tapped her finger to her lip. “I’m starting to see a few flaws.”

“Hey, babe,” he said, and her heart skipped at the pet name. “Maybe just rest the brain and logic for a bit.”

“It’s not something I can just shut off.”

“Well then let me do the honors,” he said, lowering his lips to hers and making her forget what they’d been talking about and why she’d thought it’d been important in the first place.