
Gideon Maynard is football royalty. Generations of his family have played the game, owned the teams, run the leagues . . . and so itâs no surprise that Gideon is the starting quarterback and star player for the Richmond Rebels. But underneath his aloof yet drool-worthy exterior, heâs nursing a bruised and skittish heart.
Sarah Jenkins swore off dating athletes years ago. Sheâs completely committed to her career in politics and public relations and to life as a single woman, and thatâs the way she likes it, thank you very much.
When the two meet through friends, the attraction is instant and undeniable, but both Gideon and Sarah are smart enough to know that a relationship isnât in the cards for them. Slowly, though, they find a way to friendship . . . and eventually, to something even deeper.
But just as playing football takes more than talent and hard work, a lasting love requires more than steamy nights and passionate kisses. Forever means believing in scary ideas like trust and forgiveness.
Is a happily-ever-after possible for two hurting, broken souls who are willing to risk it all for a love that wonât end?
A sneak peek!
âGideon.â I stopped in front of him, the side of my leg brushing against the skirt of the chair upon which he was leaning. âIâm so glad to see you here tonight. I wanted to talk to you.â
His eyes met mine, that vivid blue slicing through me, traveling down the length of my body and then returning to my face.
âHey, Sarah.â
His voice was a rumble, low and intimate, and I nearly lost my nerve. But . . . in for a penny, in for a pound.
âI needed to see you tonight . . . to tell you that Iâm carrying your child.â I pressed the hand not holding my beer to my flat abdomen. âYouâre going to be a daddy in a few months.â
It had been a gamble, using this preposterous lie to shock Gideon into relaxing a little and chatting with me, and for a terrifying moment, I was afraid Iâd overplayed my hand. His face went as white as his dress shirt, and his eyes were blank with shock. Those full, sensuous lips that had brought me so much pleasure parted as he gaped at me.
I couldnât torture him any longer. Doubling over, I snorted in laughter before I raised my beer bottle to my lips and took a long swig.
âBreathe, QB.â I lowered the bottle and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. âOh, my sweet Jesus, you shouldâve seen your face.â
Color was returning to his cheeks, and along with it, a flare of anger in his eyes. âThat wasnât funny, Sarah. Not one damn bit.â
âOh, it was just a little funny.â I held up my finger and my thumb about half an inch apart. âIf you had stopped to think one minute before you reacted, you would have realized that, for one, we practiced safe sex, and two, here I am, drinking a beer. Not exactly expectant mommy behavior.â I poked his ribs. âBesides which, what kind of woman would do that? I would hope youâd think better of me than that, Gideon, even if weâve only known each other a little while.â
âYou have no idea.â Gideon tilted back his head and drained his glass. âThat kind of thing . . . itâs the subject of too many cautionary tales to make it a joke. From the time I was in high school, my parents have been warning me about safe sex and not putting myself into a position where a woman could claim I was the father of her child. Thatâs why hookups and one-night stands are so dangerous. No wonder they were so happy when I was withââ He broke off abruptly. âAnyway, safe sex or not, accidents happen. So no, that wasnât at all a funny joke, Sarah.â
I rolled my eyes. âPoint taken, but honestly, you deserved it.â
âOh?â He quirked one eyebrow in that way that made him look like the lord of the manner. âHow so, exactly? What have I done to you to earn that kind of treatment?â
I set one hand on my hip and tilted my head, giving him my best scolding stare. âYou totally ignored me from the minute you got here today. You cut me dead earlier, before the ceremony. You didnât even bother to stop by my table and say hello during the cocktail hour. Which, okay, well, thatâs your prerogative, if youâre going to insist on being anti-social. But I finally walk right up to you, and all you can say is, âHey, Sarahâ? Seriously?â
Gideon flushed and rubbed one hand over his jaw. âWhat did you want from me? Was I supposed to sweep you into a kiss or some shit like that?â He shook his head. âThis is why women make me crazy. You say one thing, but really, you have a completely different agenda in mind. A whole other set of expectations.â
âOh, pul-ease.â I pretended to gag. âThatâs utter bullshitâand youâre spouting it off because you know Iâm right. If I was a guy who you spent the night with four months agoââ
âNever wouldâve happened, princess. I donât swing that way.â
I ignored his snarky interruption. ââa guy you hung out with at a party and then had a drink with at a bar after, then you wouldâve waved the first time you saw me today, and you wouldâve made sure to say hello at some point this evening. We wouldâve tossed back some beers and caught up.â
A tick in his cheek twitched. âMaybe. You could be right. But weâll never know, because youâre not a guy, and we did a hell of a lot more than hang out.â He shifted, and I sensed how uneasy he seemed, how uncomfortable he wasâand that wasnât just because of me.
Of courseâhe hated parties, and here he was, stuck at this one, forced to give the appearance of socializing . . . and too far from home to sneak away to his own space. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, considering my options here.
âHey.â I reached down and picked up his hand, holding it loosely in mine. It was just a friendly gesture, nothing seductive or romantic, but Gideon stared at our touching fingers as though we held a ticking bomb between us.
Still, I didnât let go or move away. I couldnât articulate, even to myself, why this mattered to meâbut it did. Gideon Maynard, football legacy, sizzling hot and gifted quarterback with a bright and shiny future ahead of him, was the most alone man Iâd ever met. It wasnât my job to care, but I found myself in that place anyway.
âHey,â I repeated. âItâs warm in here, isnât it? I was thinking that Iâd like to get out of the tent and maybe walk on the beach a little.â I pointed to the opening that led into the velvety darkness. âBut I probably shouldnât go by myself. The boogeyman might snatch me.â
Gideonâs lip curled. âI have a feeling he wouldnât keep you long.â
Pretending I didnât hear him, I tugged his hand. âCâmon. Keep me safe. I promise that I wonât compromise you out there.â
Still he hesitated, until I blew out a long breath of exasperation. âGideon. Listen to me. I donât have designs on you. I donât want a reprise of our night in Richmond. But you promised to be my friend of convenience at stuff like this, and Iâm holding you to that. Friends of convenience go for walks on the beach when the other friend needs it.â
âAnd you really need to go on a walk, out there in the sand?â Gideon wore an expression of long-suffering tolerance.
âNo, QB, you need to go for a walk out there in the sand.â I pulled him again. âCome on. Trust me.â