Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 6
“I didn’t, but if you must know, his name is Andrew McAdams.”
“Fucking Christ,” I said spilling a little coffee. I yanked a couple of paper towels from the dispenser and started blotting the counter quickly.
No wonder Camilla had tried to ply her wiles on him. Not only was she a fan of all things Aventura Outlaws, but I was sure that the presence of a huge, attractive football player in the lobby was like Christmas had come early, courtesy of a ripped Santa with tattooed forearms.
I tossed the wet paper towels in the garbage and slammed the lid shut. Molly looked at me with an eyebrow raised and I flushed, trying to dial it down a tad. The woman had the intuition of a gopher predicting six more weeks of winter. No need to help her fill in the blanks.
“You know Andrew McAdams?” She asked curiously.
“Doesn’t everyone with a TV?” I asked evasively.
“Seems like more than that.”
“It’s not.” I forced a smile to soften my bluntness. “Where did you say Joshua was again?”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said for at least the third time to Joshua’s jean-clad legs. They were as threadbare as the rest of his clothes. I could see the ends of his flannel peeking out from the open cupboard doors.
He was a big guy, gruff and soft-spoken with a full gray beard. Worn t-shirts and stained jeans were about as dressy as it got for Joshua, and it was hard to believe that once upon a time, he’d been an ophthalmologist.
“Why not?” His response drifted out from under the sink as he continued to work a wrench on something I was pretty sure didn’t need a wrench. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jess, but this center is hanging on by a thread. Have you seen the quarterly reports? We could use a little good publicity from a big name.”
“I’ll find the funding. You know that.”
“From where? Your bank account?” He grunted as he finally got the shiny piece in place. “That’s not how this works. And that’s not what I wanted for you. I didn’t send you to college so you could wind up in the poor house.”
“Far from that,” I shot back, rubbing my neck. Maybe I was a little…vigorous in my donating efforts, but money would come and go. This was important. “I’m working on that grant opportunity with City Group—”
“Grants don’t save centers, you know that,” he said. “We have to show that we’re an entity that can sustain ourselves before they’ll give us any real consideration. That’s why there’s a comprehensive financial section in the application.”
“Just so we’re on the same page, are you going to keep wasting my time telling me things I already know?”
“If necessary,” he said a little too cheerfully. “I’m going to need you to turn that water on in a minute. I’m just about done. Saved us quite a bit of money, too.”
I looked at the shiny doodads on the floor next to Joshua. Looked like a lot of parts were left for someone in the final steps of a repair. “Don’t you need that gasket?”
“Pfft.” He continued whaling on the pipe with his wrench. “They always give you more parts than you need.”
“You sure about that? Because an airline once saved 40K a year by removing one olive from each salad in first class.” I eyeballed his pile of plumbing flotsam and jetsam some more. “Companies generally don’t like including one more item than they have to.”
“I’ll worry about the sink,” he said confidently. “You worry about our new volunteer.”
“Maybe someone else would be better for this.” I scratched the back of my neck as I tried to think of whose plate I could dump this mess on. “You know, Van loves sports. And didn’t Teddy play football in college? This would be a dream come true for—”
“McAdams doesn’t need a fanboy making him uncomfortable,” he said with a grunt. “He’s going to get enough of that from the kids and their parents.”
There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Joshua Knox. He knew that as well as I did. Every excuse I made from this point would go under the category of stalling.
I wasn’t even sure what the big deal was. So what if I had a horrid little crush on our new volunteer? So what if he was an awful flirt and left me flustered every time I saw him? I knew better. I’d been down that road before and there was not a U-turn to be found on my life map. I wasn’t about to get into another relationship with another NFL player…and certainly not one known to go through relationships like a thirsty dog went through water.
“Did I win?” I could hear the smile in Joshua’s voice. “It feels like I won.”
I sighed. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“Not really,” he said, sounding too smug for my liking. “There’s a packet on my desk with all the information you need to know, so give it a quick read before you guys get started. Now turn on the water for me.”
I did as I was told.
It was very satisfying when water started shooting out of the sides of the pipe. I only started to feel a little bad when he jolted up and bumped his head on something under the sink. He gave a resounding fuck that they probably heard two doors down.
I shut off the water and headed down the hallway, leaving him cursing up a blue streak. “Molly,” I called. “We’re going to need towels in here.”
“Joshua Knox,” she screeched. “You get out from under that sink right now.”
My office felt a little smaller than usual. That could be because it was occupied by a big football player who seemed to take up a whole lot of space. Maybe his shoulders were just a little too wide. Maybe this was a horrid idea and I should’ve told his team no thank you, Rainbow Harbor is good on volunteers with a smokin’ body and a cut jaw, thanks.
He was wearing athletic gear—gray sweats and a matching t-shirt, both of which had Outlaws’ signage somewhere on the fabric. He had a backward cap jammed over his hair, which should have made him look like a douche. Instead, it just made him look young and fresh-faced, ready to get out into the sun and do…whatever the hell athletic people do out there. The ten-year gap between us had never seemed so wide.
Good. I mentally wedged a block of C4 in that gap to make it even wider. I did not conduct dalliances with people in their twenties. When our paths crossed, I took a moment to reminisce on where I was when they were born, admired how they were able to get up without their knees making noises like a bear rolled on some bubble wrap, and sent them on their way.
But then there was McAdams.
The level of my attraction for this man was a strange kind of math—it increased every time I laid eyes on him. I knew there was ash brown hair under that cap, that fell artlessly into his honey brown eyes. He had more scruff today than he’d had at the party. I wanted to feel that scruff under the pads of my fingers…wanted to feel it against my skin.
I muttered a greeting as I edged around him and dropped into my desk chair. I did a lot of shuffling of papers on the desk—mostly invoices and bills and notes from Molly—but the only thing I was looking for was my professionalism. And maybe a good dollop of willpower.
Eventually, I had to look up.
“I thought I’d get here early,” he said looking a little nervous as he gave me a lopsided little smile that I refused to find endearing. Fuck-up athletes were not endearing. “Nice seeing you again, Fox.”
I didn’t beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”
“On Earth in general or….”
“You know what I mean.”
“Community service,” he said, arching a brow. “You didn’t get the paperwork?”
Oh, I got it alright. That’s why I was a half-hour behind. I had retrieved his packet from Joshua’s desk and proceeded to return several calls with people on his “team.” I mean who needed a team to arrange his life?
For my diligence, I was lectured on what he was allowed to do and not do. Some lawyer named Morgan had sent over NDAs for the staff to sign. There was also a copious amount of paperwork that I had to fill out for the courts.
Fuck. It was probably easier to smuggle a capuchin through customs. I mean, I’d never done that, of course. But it had to be. And more rewarding to boot.
“You don’t think this is going to be a little…awkward?” I asked tactfully.
The look he gave me could only be described as mild. “Why’s that?”
Because every time I see you, you ask me out. And every time you ask, I’m more tempted to say yes.
“I can think of a few reasons,” I murmured.
“That…has nothing to do with this.” He finally stopped pretending he didn’t know what I was talking about, and a little self-deprecating smile broke free. “I mean, yeah, you’re the reason I noticed this place. But I spent some time exploring the website. I like what you guys do, and I have to volunteer somewhere. Might as well be here.”
“I guess as long as we keep things professional, it should be fine,” I said begrudgingly.
He looked amused. “I can control myself if you can.”
That…was anyone’s guess.
“Let’s just get started,” I said because I was a professional who did professional things. “Coffee?”
“Nah, I’m in training. I try to take it easy on the caffeine.”
“Just not the booze, huh?”
He flushed. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I made a bad judgment call—”
“I don’t need your life story.”
I wanted those words back, especially when his jaw tightened. That stupid meeting with Yvette had sucked all my manners right out of my head. But fuck, didn’t he know how many people died from drunk driving every year? Despite not wanting to date him, I knew he was a good guy. I’d rather not see his picture on the news behind an announcement of how many people he’d killed.
“Have it your way,” he finally said. “Where do I start? I’m ready and willing, so put me to work.”
His enthusiasm was rather sweet but it would fade. It always did. New volunteers were almost the worst kind—they had grand ideas and great intentions, but not the motivation or determination to see any of those ideas to fruition.
“I’m not quite sure what to do with you yet,” I finally said. “I thought we could start with a tour and let you get a feel for how we operate.”
“That sounds great. Maybe I could be useful in the sports department,” he suggested.
“We don’t have a sports department.”
“Maybe you should.” His brow furrowed. “Physical activity is important to a kid’s development.”
“I understand that. But we work with what we have and right now, we don’t have all that much. The Harbor is one-hundred percent donor supported. We’re also using every square inch of space here—”
“It would be outside,” he said, looking surprised at his insistence. “One of my teammates started a football camp for kids and they do some pretty amazing things—”
“I’ve heard of Camp Bluegrass, McAdams.” The fact that he would compare our tiny operation to that glorified ego-trip Blue Montgomery had built for only the luckiest of the lucky to attend was laughable. “Look, I’m sure your heart is in the right place, but we just don’t have that kind of budget.”
“Then I can fund it,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. “It wouldn’t take much to buy some sports equipment and implement some programs.”
“Go nuts,” I said. “You can worry about the sports while we worry about clothing and food and their mental state…you know, unimportant things like that.”
His mouth worked for a few moments before he bit down on the inside of his cheek. I leaned back in my chair and watched him in fascination, wondering if he’d let me have it or just explode. I was almost disappointed when he just gave me a curt nod and a terse, “I see.”
“Let’s walk and talk.” I pushed out of my chair and stood. “I can give you the grand tour.”
He stood, dwarfing me so thoroughly that I was hard pressed not to step back...or forward. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction, so I stayed put. I flushed as that intense honey-colored gaze landed on my face, and did my best not to think of dirty things.
Dick don’t fail me now. I willed it to behave, especially since McAdams was examining me like the last pastry in the bakery case. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about my reddening ears and after a moment, his mouth curved.
I sent him a grim look. I could no more hide my attraction to him than I could change my eye color. But if he so much as mentioned one word about it, he would regret it.
“After you.” He gestured toward the door as I continued to look at him like a weirdo. “And maybe you can take the awkwardness down a notch?”
Not likely. My awkwardness was working on Buzz Lightyear time—to infinity and beyond.
7
ANDREW
As Jesse showed me around the two-story building that had seen better days, our tour group seemed to be getting larger. We passed several rec rooms, a study room, and a library, which was just a glorified room with thrift shop chairs and secondhand reading materials. Someone had painted the giving tree on the wall and added a corner with a couple of throws and pillows. I didn’t read anything but the Outlaws’ playbook, but I could see the charm.
Jesse didn’t let me see the charm for long as we blew through the room.
We added two more to the group as we left the library, and I hid a grin. After all the negative publicity, it was nice to know that I still had some fans. Even if Jesse Fox was not in that number.
That was too bad. He was stuck with me whether he liked it or not. Judging from the set of that mouth, the scale was leaning toward not. He probably thought his pace was too fast for chatting, but that was laughable. If I couldn’t talk while I was exercising, how the hell would I do my very necessary trash-talking?
When he realized there was no way he was going to shake me, he begrudgingly answered my questions about Rainbow Harbor. It was more interesting than I thought it would be. Or maybe I just liked to hear Jesse talk.
“The Harbor tries to provide enrichment programs like art and music class, but the main goal is to provide a safe space for at-risk LGBTQ+ youth,” he said, striding down the hall. “They can use the computers, the library, or just hang out. They can talk about any issues with a counselor on staff, and mentors are also available if the kids want a more informal approach.”
“That’s handy.”
He opened a door to give me a glance at a makeshift kitchen. I’d barely taken a look around before he closed the door on my face. “And we’re moving,” he said crisply.
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically, rubbing the bridge of my nose to make sure it was still all there. “You ever get fired as a tour guide in a museum?”
I could just see it now, Jesse in a uniform jacket and pressed khakis, leading a group of curious kids and waving his arm at the entirety of their dinosaur collection. “Bones,” he’d say succinctly. “And we’re moving….”
He led me to the back of the building. I looked through the windows as we passed, getting daunting snapshots of my self-appointed project. The grass and hedges were overgrown but there was lots of space and plenty of flat ground for my athletic program. I grinned a little to myself. My athletic program? Already?
Well, I was known to jump into things with both feet. I could hardly be expected to change now, could I?
Several kids were sitting in the rec room as we passed and some of them greeted him exuberantly. I wasn’t even the least bit surprised when he knew them all by name.
One of the girls barreled into his stomach, and he barely got his arms open quickly enough. “Kara. Is your mom going to be able to get off work to pick you up or do you need a ride?”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in that old thing.” When Jesse released her, she sidled over to me. “But maybe Andrew—”
“Mr. McAdams is not cleared to transport any children in his vehicle,” Jesse said, heading her off at the pass.
I swallowed a grin at his starchy tone—he didn’t just sound like a librarian, he sounded like the librarian. The one who taught the others how to say shhh properly and shit.
“So. What’s the verdict on the ride?” He asked.
“I’m good. She said she’s coming.” She sauntered off, putting a little extra oomph in her walk-away. If her mother was smart, she’d just keep driving and head for Mexico. “We might even have pizza for dinner. You like pizza, Andrew?”
“He does not,” Jesse said crisply.
I barked out a laugh. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He nudged the arm of one of the kids half-lying on the couch, his head on the floor and his feet pointed toward the ceiling. “Mark, one of these days you’re going to break something vital that you need.”
“My dick is fine,” he said with a smirk, and Jesse smothered a laugh. “See, this way, I’d only hurt my head.”
“Well, we know you’re not using that,” he said. “And clean up that salty language.”
“Yessir,” Mark saluted. “One helping of language sprinkled with Mrs. Dash, coming right up.”
“Smartass,” Jesse muttered.
“Hey! Is that or is that not salty language?”
“I’m old. Salt is all the joy I have left, kid. That’s why I use it liberally in my food and my vocabulary,” Jesse informed him. “Besides, haven’t you heard the phrase do as I say, not as I do?”
“Who is that quote from?” Kara wanted to know.
“Probably George Washington,” Mark guessed off-handedly. “I think he and Jesse were like roommates or whatever.”
Jesse lunged, threatening to tickle the little shit and Mark squealed. Jesse’s smile broke free as he straightened and glanced my way. I didn’t even bother to hide the fact that I was staring because fuck, if I thought he was beautiful before, that smile took it to a different level. Made my knees a little wobbly.
That open, carefree smile faded slowly and he straightened his shirt, which had bunched when he was horseplaying with Mark. He waved a hand for us to start walking again. “And we’re moving….”
