Page 10 of False Start: Chicago Engines (Gridiron Warriors #3)

Weston

We finished off the preseason with a punishing away game that put us in a good place going into the regular season, but left me bruised and wishing that the week would drag before our next game.

I’d accepted because the offer was from Elite Mind clothing — Pace’s biggest competitors. The premise of the shoot was supporting your goals .

There was also the added bonus of the other model for the shoot…

“Morning.” Her voice was sweet and husky like she’d only just woken up.

Georgia’s hair was a mass of unruly curls on top of her head, and I did a double take as I realized she wasn’t wearing makeup.

She looked younger. Vulnerable, somehow without the usual immaculate shades she painted her face in.

I liked her like this. And wasn’t that a dangerous thought for a whole lot of reasons.

“How did you sleep?” she asked as we made our way down the sand to a tent that had been set up for hair, makeup, and wardrobe changes.

“Fine. You?”

No reason for her to know my subconscious had taken to replaying the highlights of our night together on repeat every time I closed my eyes.

The sounds she made, the taste of her on my tongue, her smooth skin beneath my fingers.

All of it came together to ensure that while I wasn’t losing sleep, I could possibly end up losing my mind over this woman.

The lines felt blurred already, and I hadn’t helped the situation by giving in to the urge to take care of things in the shower before I left home.

“Good.” The rushing of the waves on the shore only served to amplify the awkward silence that sprang up between us as a small woman stepped out of the tent.

“You must be Weston and Gia. Come in. I’m Vera, I’ll be your photographer today.” She ushered us into the dimly lit space and pointed out two chairs.

“Aren’t you two just gorgeous. Sit tight and the makeup artist and hairdresser will be in in a moment to get you sorted. We’re starting with the athleisure wear, then the lounge wear, then we’ll finish with the sports range after sunrise. How does that sound?”

I had no idea how Vera had so much energy at this time of the morning, but it was shared by the artists who came in and made me presentable while turning Georgia into a goddess.

For the next few hours, I was put through a special kind of torture as we wore outfit after outfit and moved through close, intimate poses all in the name of selling clothing.

Unfortunately, my libido didn’t get the memo we were trying to be professional.

Every time I caught a whiff of her vanilla scent, or ran my hand over her skin, fireworks exploded in my nervous system, insisting we should find somewhere a little more private.

We wrapped up shooting as the sky shifted from the pinks and oranges of sunrise into the blue of a stunning late summer day.

“Can I take you to breakfast?” I asked Georgia as we arrived back at our cars.

“I’d like that,” she said and pressed the button on her fob. Her car unlocked with a loud thunk and flashing headlights. “Where should we go?”

I wanted to take her home. To show her how good I was in the kitchen.

And other places. But our goal was publicity, and we couldn’t be photographed there.

Instead, I suggested a local favorite, where the pancakes were stacked high and fluffy, and the coffee was bottomless.

She agreed easily and slipped into the driver’s seat of her car, promising to meet me there.

Traffic was light as I followed her through the urban streets.

A couple of cars passed, filled with children on their way to weekend sports by the look of the matching jerseys.

A lone pedestrian jogged along the sidewalk as a group of cyclists passed on the opposite side of the street.

Even in the stillness, there was a life to the city.

I pulled into the parking spot beside Georgia’s and met her at the door to the diner, holding it open to let her through first before trailing inside.

“Sit anywhere you like.” The woman behind the counter had a kind, weathered face, and she spared us a smile as we entered before turning her attention back to the newspaper in front of her. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

I rubbed at my shoulder as we took our seats and Georgia gave me a curious look. A dull ache had been throbbing through the joint since I woke up, but there was no way I would acknowledge it out loud. I’d pull out my physio bands when I got home and do some work on it instead.

“Have you heard anything about your show yet?” I asked.

She shook her head, squaring the edge of her menu along the side of the table.

“Not yet. Lydia has a meeting this morning, so I should find out today. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t get it.”

“You’ll get it,” I said with absolute confidence. She was stunning, talented, and interesting to be around. I found it hard to believe the casting directors wouldn’t see what an asset she’d be to the show.

“There are a lot of people trying for the role. I was lucky to get as far as I did. I just don’t want all this to have been for nothing.”

Because it was such a chore to spend time with me.

Stop being a whiny bitch.

I’d never met a woman as hard to read as Georgia, and maybe that was the truest testament to her acting skills because I kept forgetting we were pretending.

When we were together, I felt like she was mine.

Like maybe she was worth the risk. But every time reality came crashing in to remind me I didn’t get that.

I had my shot and broke it as effectively as I did my shoulder.

With a tight-lipped smile, I turned my attention to the menu, studying the options like they held the answer to life’s mysteries.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Weston. I don’t feel like I can say that enough. You’re… so much more than I ever expected.”

“Let’s just hope you get that call soon.”

We fell silent until the waitress brought over coffee and took our orders. I breathed deeply, appreciating the smells of butter and bacon, with a bitter undernote of coffee filling the air. Georgia fidgeted with her menu. The salt and pepper shakers. She bounced her knee under the table.

I was being belligerent and making her nervous. My own hang-ups weren’t her fault.

“So where are you from? That first night you spoke about moving back in with your parents. Where are they?”

The new subject didn’t seem to make her any more comfortable, but she told me a little about growing up in Texas with her sister.

About how Duckie was the tomboy and their father’s favorite.

About how their mother had pushed Georgia to more traditionally feminine things.

Her posture caved in on itself as she spoke about the woman who birthed her, and I took the first opportunity to redirect the conversation.

“Duckie is an interesting name.”

She snorted. “Her real name is Blair, but she’s had the nickname since we were teens. I can’t remember who came up with it.”

“So Blair lives in Texas still?”

She flashed me a surprisingly dark look over her coffee cup as she took a long sip.

“Yeah, she does. You’d probably get along well with her. She works for the hockey team down there. She doesn’t look like me, though. She’s the smart one.”

“I think you’re smart.”

Georgia brought her mug down on the table a little too hard and coffee spilled across her laminated menu. With a curse, she pulled a handful of napkins out of the silver holder and roughly swiped at the mess.

“Hey,” I said and froze as she flicked watery eyes up toward me before refocusing on the mess in front of her.

“I don’t need you to patronize me, Weston.

I know what I am and what I’m not. Trust me.

I’ve spent my life surrounded by people who were all too happy to fill me in on my shortcomings.

I’m pretty. That’s it. Nothing below the surface.

My life will be done at the first sign of wrinkles, and I’m already on the wrong side of twenty-five. ”

She scrubbed her hands over her thighs, avoiding eye contact as I processed her outburst. It was obvious she meant every word, but what I couldn’t come to terms with was the fact she didn’t have anyone in her corner to refute the beliefs. Until now.

“It sounds like you’ve been surrounded by the wrong kinds of people for a long time,” I said carefully, trying to catch her eye.

I could fix this. I wasn’t sure how yet, but there had to be a way to help her. Even if she was using me for the clout, everyone deserved to have people at their back.

The answer came to me in a nauseating wave of vulnerability.

“When I injured my shoulder last year, I thought that was it for me,” I said.

Now it was my turn to take an interest in the dishes as her head shot up. I wrapped my hands around my empty mug and knocked it gently against the table as I thought through my words.

“I told you my girlfriend left me when I got injured. She didn’t want the washed-up has-been she thought I’d become. I learned who my true friends were during that time. People who would always have my back, like family. Well, like family should,” I corrected as she flinched.

“I promise, no matter what happens between us, I’ll be honest with you, and I’ll have your back.”

A tear splashed on the table in front of her, and she swiped at her eyes.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

I reached across the table and squeezed her wrist. Beneath my fingers, I could feel her trembling.

“I want to. You and me? We’re in this together.”

Her eyes were glassy as she held my gaze, but beneath the tears there was a spark of hope that I wanted to fan. To build into a blazing inferno of confidence in the amazing woman I knew she could be without people tearing her down at every turn.

“You’re too good to me,” she said, the corner of her mouth turning up.

From the corner of my eye, I caught the waitress approaching with our food, so with a final squeeze, I sat back and accepted my plate.

“We’ll be good to each other,” I said, smiling at her nod.

With our cards on the table, we ate in a companionable silence until her phone started rattling across the table.

“I’m sorry, it’s Lydia. Do you mind if I take this?”

I waved her on and she answered with a tense hello .

The conversation was mostly one sided with Georgia giving an occasional “uh huh” and “really?”

Her face told the real story. Tension gave way to concern, then confusion, cautious optimism, followed by a breathtaking smile as she thanked her manager and ended the call.

“Good news?”

“I got it.” Her face shone as she half stood, then sat, wriggling around in her chair like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

“I got the role! I’m going to be on Shifting Sands !”

I’d never seen the show, but it wasn’t for me to decide how exciting the news was. She’d worked her ass off for the role, so there was only one response necessary.

“Congratulations!”

She burst out of her seat and rounded the table, and I was right there to catch her as she threw herself into my arms. Her enthusiasm was infectious and, without thought, I pulled her into a kiss.

Her body immediately molded to mine as I licked my way into her mouth.

Her taste exploded on my tastebuds, and I groaned at the pinch of her nails biting into my chest.

“Well done, princess. You deserve it,” I muttered against her lips. She hummed, pressing closer to me.

“Don’t forget we’re in public, Georgie girl.”

She huffed, breaking the kiss. “Are you reminding me? Or yourself?” she asked as she deliberately brushed her hip against my erection. I hissed at the contact and slipped back onto my chair as she sashayed back to her seat.

“We need to celebrate.”

“Isn’t this a celebration?” she asked, then a dark smile lit her face. “Or do you mean something a little more intimate?”

I groaned at her implication and sent a harsh command to my dick to behave.

“I thought maybe we could have a cookout at my place. Maybe invite a few friends over to celebrate the fact you’re a badass actor who will be the best thing to ever happen to that TV show.”

She hummed, her eyes focused on the table in front of her.

“I don’t really know who to invite.”

“What about Cami? Marina? Ridley?”

“Why would they care that I got the role?”

“Georgie, they like you. They’d be happy for you because you’re happy. That’s what friends do.”

She gave me a dubious look, but shrugged.

“If you want. It could be fun.”

If I did nothing else in this fake relationship, I was going to teach this woman that she was worth something to people.

Even if it cost me everything.