Page 21 of Score to Settle (Oakwood Ranch #1)
TWELVE
HARPER
Notes for feature: Jake’s power on the field is equal to his charm off it. It’s easy to get sucked into both and forget the man underneath can’t be trusted. Yet…
Mama grins as we make our way from the skybox down to the field—a Stormhawks tradition for Thursday night home games according to Mama. I find myself looking forward to seeing the wide smile on Jake’s face.
“It’s like nothing else, is it?” Mama says from beside me.
I laugh and shake my head, ponytail swishing. I’m back in tight jeans and my red Stormhawks tee, teamed with a cute leather jacket of Mia’s she threw at me earlier as I ducked into her apartment to say hi and change before the game.
Mama slips her arm in mine as we step into the tunnel.
The noise of the stadium echoes around us in whoops and hollers and the stamping feet of the fans.
We emerge from the tunnel into a cold night, bright floodlights, and the roar of 70,000 people.
The energy of the stadium floods through me.
I suddenly understand why Jake lives for these moments.
It’s electric. We join the line of family and VIPs at the sideline, waiting to congratulate the players as they head to the locker room.
I spot Jake jogging across the field, helmet under his arm, dark hair damp from exertion and flopping over his forehead.
He waves at the fans, basking in the glow of victory.
As Jake draws nearer, I’m suddenly shy. Under the bright lights, his sculpted arms and muscular thighs are on full display and my thoughts drag back to the moment in his hotel room last week when I smoothed the edge of his Band-Aid.
The surprise on his face as I drew near, and the knowledge pounding through me that it didn’t need fixing.
When his gaze lands on me, Jake’s smile widens and he bounds over. For a crazy moment he opens his arms like he’s going to sweep me up and spin me around. Then he stops short before leaning close and saying in my ear, “You’re starting to feel like my good luck charm, Cassidy.”
I laugh, certain he’s joking. All I can think about is the heat radiating from where his hand is resting on my hip. I step back, putting some air between us.
“Where’s my hug?” Mama asks from beside me and Jake bends down and wraps his arms around her.
“Proud of you,” she says, and then, “Right. I’ve got to see the physical therapist about Dylan and this trip to the ACL center in LA, and then I’ve got a late meeting with management. You’ll take Harper back to the ranch?”
He nods. “Sure thing.”
There’s no mistaking the don’t-fuck-with-me-air about Mama as her tiny frame moves past the players and coaching staff. I smile as a man twice her size leaps out of her path.
As Jake is surrounded by his teammates, one of the bigger, bearded guys swoops in and plants a loud, smacking kiss on Jake’s cheek. Jake bursts out laughing and gives the guy a playful shove.
“Alright, alright! Settle down,” Jake says, still chuckling as he extracts himself from the mob.
He spots me hovering on the outskirts and steps over.
“This way,” Jake murmurs, gently pressing a hand to my lower back and steering me toward the tunnel.
A spark flickers in the pit of my stomach, which I hastily put down to the leftover excitement from the win.
We enter the dim, concrete tunnel, the sounds from the field fading behind us. It smells of dirt and sweat down here.
“I need a quick shower,” Jake says, glancing down at me with an easy grin as we reach a long corridor inside the stadium. “You OK to wait here? I’ll only be a few minutes.”
I nod and Jake flashes me another smile before disappearing through a door and into the locker room.
I lean against the wall and wait, feeling like I shouldn’t be here, but no one pays me any attention.
After a while, the door opens and I’m already smiling, but it’s not Jake.
It’s Gordon. He’s wearing a shirt and sweater combo and looks like he’s about to waltz into his first day of lectures at an Ivy League college.
“It’s Harper, right?” he says, eyes twinkling like he’s glad to see me.
I nod. “Hi.”
“A few of us are heading to The Hay Barn. You’re welcome to join us.
” He leans an arm against the wall, getting in my space.
I remember Jake’s warning about him and shift away.
“I hear you’re writing about Jake. The guys and I can tell you some stories.
Although more than a few aren’t for the delicate eyes of Sports Magazine ’s readership.
” He adds a wink at the end just in case I don’t catch the meaning in his words.
“Maybe another time,” I say as the door to the changing rooms opens again and there’s Jake.
His hair is wet, almost black from the water, and pushed away from his face, and his tee is clinging to those broad shoulders, a gray sweatshirt in his hand.
I still can’t get used to being in the company of someone so hot.
“Everything OK here?” he asks, voice husky from shouting in the game. He throws a glare toward Gordon.
“Yep,” I say.
Jake steps closer, his clean woodsy scent enveloping me. “Enjoy the game, Cassidy?” he asks.
“Yes!” I smile and it’s goofy, and Jake tips back his head and gives a throaty laugh. I feel myself glow at the sound of it. “Seriously,” I say. “You blew me away tonight.”
Gordon makes a scoffing noise from beside us. “Jake knows all about being blown away, don’t you, Sullivan? You’ve been blown by half the cheer team last I heard.”
Jake seems to grow a foot in height as he rounds on his teammate. “You and I both know the rules, Gordon. No fraternizing with the cheer team. Or have you forgotten? Don’t take your sorry excuse for defense tonight out on me. I carried your ass in the game and we both know it.”
There’s a beat of tense silence before Gordon chuckles to himself, having got the rise he was looking for from Jake, and strolls away.
I take a step back, too. I’m begrudgingly starting to see that there’s more to Jake than his reputation.
But Gordon has reminded me that Jake is still the man who broke my heart.
Even if it’s getting harder to keep hold of that knowledge with every passing day.
Even if I can still feel heat tingling on my hip from where Jake’s hand touched me earlier, my heart can’t afford for me to forget why I’m here.