Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Lincoln
My phone buzzed through my Bluetooth, and Siri let me know that it was Brett Jacobs.
Brinkley and I were driving to the football field, and she was definitely giving me the cold shoulder.
Who knew what she was pissed about now. So, maybe I’d trapped her at my front door, for reasons that made no sense to me.
The woman was consuming me, and I wasn’t okay with it.
I didn’t get consumed by women.
I got consumed by football.
That was it.
Hell, I hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she was invading my every thought. I couldn’t take a fucking shower without seeing her face.
Those eyes.
That mouth.
Her mouth was normally closed in my fantasies, unless it was wrapped around my cock.
Because usually when she spoke, she was irritated with me.
But this pull I felt toward her was unexplainable.
I needed to put some distance there, but here I was, taking her to crash a high school date with me.
I’d never messed around with drugs of any sort, but I had a hunch that Brinkley Reynolds was my own personal kind of addiction.
And that did not sit well with me.
“I need to take this. Anything you hear is off the record,” I said as I glanced at her.
“Of course, it is. Everything is off the record with you, Captain.” She rolled her eyes as I answered the call.
“Hey, dude. I’ve got that reporter I told you about in the car, so watch what you say.”
Brinkley glared at me, and I chuckled.
“Oh, the hot one that you got fired?”
The fucker.
“I didn’t say she was hot, you dickhead.”
“Hey, Brinkley. He did tell me that you were hot. Long, dark hair, dark eyes, and you can hold your own when you run with him. That’s high praise coming from big, bad Lincoln Hendrix.” He chuckled, and I shook my head.
“Hi, Brett. We actually met two years ago before you left San Francisco. You were very nice and one of the only guys willing to be interviewed, unlike closed-off Hendrix over here,” she purred.
Was she fucking flirting with him?
“Closed-off Hendrix!” He barked out a laugh. “You definitely know how to handle his stubborn ass. And I’m always happy to oblige a beautiful woman.”
“Does this shit really work for you?” I grumped. “What’s up? We’re about to pull up to the football field, and I’ve got to get out of the car because I’ve somehow been wrangled into surprising some kid for his birthday.”
“Brinkley, don’t let his asshole personality fool you. He’s got the biggest heart in the NFL.”
“Well, he’s really good at hiding it,” she said, looking over at me when I put the car in park.
“It’s all an act. I mean, trust me, he’s a total asshole to strangers. And he’s kind of an asshole to his friends.”
“Is there a point to this fucked-up story?” I asked.
“I’m just giving you a hard time. Coach said you’re flying out here next week. I think it’s time to pull the trigger.”
“Did you not hear me tell you that there was a reporter in the car?”
“Please. It’s dinnertime there. Well past working hours. If you didn’t like her, she wouldn’t be in the car with you right now.”
“I’m hanging up. I’ll be there next week. It’s just a discussion. Drew will be there, too.”
“Hey, why don’t you bring the beautiful Brinkley? If she’s shadowing you, she should be coming with you to check out the program.”
“Call you later, dickhead.”
I ended the call and turned to face her. Her lips were turned up in the corners the slightest bit like she’d just won something.
“What are you smiling about?”
“So, you think I’m hot, huh?” She laughed. She was wearing a cute-as-hell white sundress that fell off her shoulders with a pair of cowboy boots.
“You’ll have to ask tomorrow during your allotted question time,” I said, pushing out of the car.
“I don’t need to ask something that I already know the answer to!” she shouted as I made my way around the car and opened her door.
“So what? He asked if you were good-looking. What was I going to say?”
“Well, we know what you said, don’t we?”
I turned so fast she didn’t have time to move. Once again, I had her backed up against the car with both hands on each side of her pretty face.
“Are you telling me you don’t think I’m good-looking? I caught you staring earlier, didn’t I?”
She flashed me a wicked smile. “You’re all right. Definitely not my type.”
“Oh, really. And what’s your type? Sexist pigs who play hockey?”
“You have a real obsession with Breen Lockhart, don’t you? You almost sound jealous.”
I stepped back and dropped my arms. “Not the jealous type, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
She reached into the back seat for the poster she made and handed it to me. We fell into stride beside one another, and we walked toward the football field.
“So, New York is where you’re thinking, huh?”
“It’s high on the list,” I said, not telling her the whole truth.
It was the only one on the list besides the team I’d been playing for.
I was fairly certain I was ready to make the decision, and it would probably happen very soon.
“How about you go with me to New York next week? Nothing will go to print until after I make my decision. But you’ll get to meet a few of the guys and see that I’m not a complete asshole when I’m around the people I’m close to.
I’ll find out how much I can trust you at that point. ”
“Have I given you any reason not to trust me? You’re so skeptical of people,” she snarled beside me.
I came to a stop. She was right. She’d gone along with everything I’d asked of her so far, and I’d been an asshole most of the time. “Aside from arguing with me daily, you’ve done everything I’ve asked.”
“Is that an apology?” she asked, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.
She was so fucking pretty.
“Do you want an apology?”
“I do, actually,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
“Good. Ask for it tomorrow as one of your questions.” I started walking and chuckled when I heard her grunt from behind me.
“You’re such a stubborn ass.”
“Been called worse, sweetheart. Usually by you, if I’m being honest.”
“If the shoe fits,” she hissed as she jogged to catch up to me as I strode toward the field.
“Oh, the shoe fits, but it has to be specially made because it’s so big.” I winked as we came to a stop at the chain-link fence.
Lionel was sitting on a blanket with Brandy, who looked up and squealed that deafening sound again.
“You came!” she shouted.
The girl had texted me five thousand times. Did I have a choice?
“Let’s go.” Brinkley elbowed me in the side and reached for the gate before pushing it open. She marched in front of me, her tanned legs striding in her boots toward Brandy and Lionel. I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass.
Her hair moved from side to side across her back.
“Mr. Hendrix. Is that you?” Lionel said, pushing to his feet as he hugged Brinkley quickly.
“I told you, you can call me Lincoln.” I extended a hand, and he shook it with a bit more strength than I’d expected, and then I handed him the poster that Brinkley made. She’d gone all out, and there was most likely glitter all over my car now. “Happy Birthday, buddy.”
“How is this happening?” he said, letting my hand go as he bent over his knees like he’d done the first time I’d met him as he tried to catch his breath.
“I arranged for Jimi Hendrix to meet us out here,” Brandy said, and Brinkley’s head fell back in a fit of laughter.
“Baby, his name is Lincoln Hendrix. He’s the GOAT of the NFL.” Lionel looked at me and shrugged like he was trying to apologize.
Hell, I didn’t mind. I liked feeling like a normal dude.
“Yikes. The GOAT. Is that like the booby prize?” Brandy asked.
Brinkley’s gaze locked with mine, and she smiled. The sun was just getting ready to tuck behind the clouds, and those last bits of sunshine made her golden skin shimmer.
Lionel groaned. “He’s the best of the best. The GOAT means that he’s the greatest of all time.”
“Go, Jimmy,” Brandy said as she clapped her hands together.
Now it was my turn to laugh. “How about you show me how you kick the ball? I heard you’re not too bad yourself.”
“From my girlfriend?” Lionel quipped, and his face turned bright red.
“From your stats. I looked you up. You’ve got an impressive record. How about you show me what you can do?”
The next hour was spent watching this kid kick the hell out of the ball. He made every single field goal he attempted. The field lights had come on once it got dark outside, and he went out for a few passes, and I tossed him the ball.
“I suck as a receiver,” he said.
“Hey, I’d suck as a receiver, too. You find your place on the field, and then you work your ass off to be the best at it. You’re a kicker, Lionel. And a damn good one.”
“You’re kidding me right now,” he said as I tossed him the ball, and we walked back toward Brinkley and Brandy.
“You really want to play college ball? It’s not an easy path, brother.”
“I want it more than anything.”
“All right. I’m going to make a few calls. Put your number in my phone,” I said, handing him my cell as he gaped at me. “I’ll see what I can do to help.”
I startled when I saw his eyes water in the light from above us. I knew what it was like to feel as if your dream was impossible to reach. I’d been there once or twice myself.
“I, er, thank you, Lincoln. Even if nothing comes out of it, thank you for tonight. This goes down as the best night of my life.”
I extended my arm to him again, but he lunged toward me and hugged me.
I patted his back because I wasn’t really sure what to do, but the kid didn’t move, so I put my other arm around him and let him just sit there for a minute.
Brinkley was smiling bigger than she ever had before. Normally, it was a wicked smile. Or an evil smile. Or a sarcastic smile.
But this one was a genuine smile.
Not an ounce of hate or irritation there.
He finally pulled back, and he swiped at his face, keeping his head down, and I knew in that moment that I’d do whatever I could to help this kid.
We said our goodbyes, and Brandy was still squealing behind us as Brinkley and I made our way to the car. She hadn’t said anything yet, and once we were both inside and buckled up, she turned to me.
“That was really nice, Lincoln,” she whispered.
“I can’t promise anything, but I can get some eyes on him. He’s a decent player. He hasn’t been coached much, so there’s a lot of potential there.”
She nodded. “Yeah. All he needs is a chance, right? Then it’s in his hands.”
“Yep. Are you hungry?” I asked. Hell, I’d dragged her there. The least I could do was feed her.
“Starving.”
“What do you feel like?”
“Hmmm…” She thought about it. “What if we just grab some burgers and shakes? That is, if you can handle one night of greasy food?”
“Trust me. I can handle it just fine.”
“All right. Head out to Main Street. We’ll grab the food, and I’ll take you down to my favorite spot on the cove. You’ve probably never been there. It’s a secret locals’ place.”
“All right. That sounds good.”
And that was exactly what we did.
She took off her boots and walked barefoot through the sand, leading me to a spot that had the perfect view of the water and the sky.
“This is pretty amazing,” I said after I popped a few fries into my mouth.
“I love it out here.”
“I can see why. It’s so quiet.” The crickets were chirping, and it almost sounded musical in the background.
“Did you like growing up in a small town? Or do you prefer city life?” she asked before taking a bite of her burger and watching me.
I didn’t feel the need to remind her that this was off the record. I knew it was, and I felt comfortable that she knew it, too.
“The town I grew up in was a little larger than Cottonwood Cove, but not a city by any stretch. I liked it back then, and being here has reminded me that I like it more now than I thought I would.”
“And you don’t have any siblings, right?”
“Nope. It was just me and my mom.”
“I always wondered what it would be like to be an only child,” she said before laughing and shaking her head. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my siblings to death. But when I was young, I used to wonder what it would be like to get all the attention.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Somehow, I imagine you got plenty of attention, sweetheart.”
“Why? Because I’m so hot?” A wide grin spread across her face, and my fucking chest squeezed.
I needed to tread carefully before I got in over my head.
I didn’t know where I was playing next year.
My life was up in the air.
I did not need complications.
And Brinkley Reynolds was becoming a huge complication.
“You’re hot. It’s no secret. Don’t read into it.”
She shrugged. “I think that’s the first compliment you’ve ever given me.”
“Yeah? Well, we don’t want your head to get too big.” I tried to make light of it.
“Don’t worry about me getting the wrong idea. You’re not my type either.” She raised a brow. “I have a hard and fast rule about not dating professional athletes.”
We were both posturing and clearly, we were completely full of shit.
I wanted her.
She wanted me.
But that would be about the dumbest thing I could do right now.
“It’s a good thing that it’s not an option, then. Let’s focus on work and get this story done,” I said.
Something crossed her face that I couldn’t read, but she quickly straightened.
“That’s the plan, Captain.”
Damn.
In another world, I’d come up with a whole different plan for Brinkley Reynolds.