Page 22 of Score to Settle (Oakwood Ranch #1)

THIRTEEN

JAKE

The drive home is frosty and it has nothing to do with the cold December wind blowing through the open window of my truck.

I should be buzzing from the win tonight.

All anyone can talk about is the playoffs and what it would mean to reach them for the first time in four years.

With our last two wins and only four games left, it’s finally feeling possible. But instead of being happy, I’m pissed.

Beside me, Harper is staring out the passenger window, her jaw set, her arms folded across her body. Tension radiates in the silence. She hasn’t said a word since we left the stadium and I shot down the question she was halfway through asking. No way am I in the mood to chat.

I grip the steering wheel tightly as I drive, my knuckles turning white. I saw the change in her expression and the way she looked at me after Gordon’s bullshit comment about the cheer team. I don’t care what people think, so why am I letting this get to me?

I glance at Harper as we speed down the dark highway back to the ranch.

No one has any business looking so damn attractive when they’re mad.

The thought surprises me and so I focus on her anger instead.

What the hell has she got to be mad about?

The only person who has any right to be pissed here is me.

We’ve spent two weeks together and one comment from a prick like Gordon and she’s fixing me with that look.

The one where she thinks she’s got me all figured out and there’s nothing I can say or do to change that.

We leave the city behind and my headlights cut through the inky darkness.

The mountains in the distance are lost to the night, shadows against a sky littered with stars.

Not even the crunch of my wheels on the drive and the sight of Buck galloping out the back door eases my mood.

I jump from my truck with only one thought in my head—getting as far away from Harper as I can.

I whistle to Buck and we stride into the darkness in the direction of the lake.

A moment later, the passenger door slams and even in my current mood I feel like an ass for not opening it for her.

“Hey,” Harper calls. Her footsteps hit the ground behind me.

“Why are you so angry with me?” she asks, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.

An electrical heat pulses from her touch.

I’m pulled back to the moment on the field when I saw her cheering from the sideline.

How close I came to sweeping her into my arms and spinning her around.

“I’m not angry,” I growl. It’s a lie and we both know it.

“What is this then?” Her breath leaves a puff of air in the chill of the night. She shivers a little in her leather jacket. The fit suits her but it’s doing nothing to ward off the cold.

“Don’t I get to be a little annoyed that my team is celebrating another win at my favorite bar and I’m not?” I sigh and shrug off my sweatshirt before handing it to her. “Put this on. It’s freezing out here.”

She looks like she’s going to refuse but a second later she’s pulling it over her head. Damn, she looks cute with her arms lost in the sleeves.

“Come on, Buck.” I whistle and make a step to leave, but Buck remains sitting by Harper’s feet, tail wagging, ears pricked with interest. I have to swallow back a groan. Of course my dog loves Harper more than me.

Harper closes the gap I’ve made between us. Can’t this girl take a hint? I’m not in the mood.

In the light from the ranch house, her eyes are fierce. “This is about more than missing a few drinks with the team. Tell me what’s going on.”

I rake a hand through my hair, hating that she’s right. “Fine. You know what, I never said I was perfect. I like women. I like sex. And I’m not going to deny that I’ve enjoyed a few one-night stands in my time. But I told you I’ve changed. So don’t look at me like I’m a bad person, Harper.”

“So you are angry with me. I didn’t look at?—”

“You did. Outside the locker room when Gordon made his stupid remark. One of the coaching staff had just let slip about the feature and he wanted to annoy me by getting to you. And for your information, I’ve never dated any of the cheer team.

Any player caught fraternizing with a cheerleader is dropped from the team for good. ”

“So what happened in the parking lot last September then?” She fires the question and it hits me right in the gut.

She takes another step forward, getting in my space.

“You keep telling me there’s more to you.

That I shouldn’t believe this playboy rep you’ve built.

But you give me nothing. You answer my questions if they’re about football, but the second I try to push deeper, you shut down or make a joke or storm off into the night.

” She waves her hand in the air like she’s proving her point.

The fact she’s right again does nothing to defuse my anger. “I never said I’d be good at this, OK?”

“Are you telling me you’re doing your best here? That you’re giving me your all?”

“No. But I don’t want to talk about what happened last year. Not yet. I know I have to and I will, but not now.”

Harper’s face is stony, lips pursed in a way that snags my eyes. Another bolt of electricity shoots through my body. I’m suddenly not sure if I want to close the gap between us or tell her to go to hell. Once again, Harper’s got my head spinning.

“When, then?” she asks. “Because you realize I have a job to do.”

“Yeah, but my job is making sure my team gets to the playoffs and then to the Super Bowl, not teaching you about football and telling you all my secrets. I get why you’re here and why we both need this, but can’t I have one night off? One night where I get five minutes to myself in my own home.”

“You’re pushing me away,” she replies.

“And you’re driving me crazy,” I growl.

She huffs, more frustration than anything. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here, Jake. But you’re right—we do both need this. My career is on the line too. So I have to keep pushing you whether you like it or not. This isn’t a game to me.”

“And you think it is to me?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I think anymore.” With that, she’s striding back to the ranch with my damn dog trotting at her side.

For a moment my gaze pulls to where her jeans hug her perfect ass, and that’s when it hits me. The way I lit up inside when I saw her on the sideline tonight. The heat that radiated through my body when she grabbed my arm just now.

Fuck!

Is this…?

It can’t be.

I think back to my teen years and the girls in my life, but as the star football player in high school and college, girls tended to come to me.

Is it possible that at the age of twenty-nine I’ve got my first crush?

On Harper—who has the power to both make me laugh and infuriate me to hell all in the same five minutes?

Damn it, Sullivan.