Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1)
Read Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1) Online
Authors: Liz Matis
Little Hondo Press
Contact:
[email protected]
Guarding the Quarterback – Champions of the Heart – Book 1
Copyright © 2016 Elizabeth Matis
Digital ISBN: 978-0-9908848-4-2
Print ISBN: 978-0-9908848-5-9
Kindle Edition
Photo and Cover Design by: Sara Eirew Photographer
Editor: Karen Dale Harris
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, scanning, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Playing For Keeps – Fantasy Football Romance – Season 1
Going For It – Fantasy Football Romance – Season 2
Huddle Up – Fantasy Football Romance – Season 3
The Quarterback Sneak – Fantasy Football Romance – Season 4
Fantasy Football Romance – Box Set: Seasons 1-4
Summer Dreaming – Hot in the Hamptons – Book 1
Love By Design
Real Men Don’t Drink Appletinis
Coming soon:
Playing For Gelato – Champions of the Heart – Book 2
Miss Congeniality meets The Bodyguard
Alexa Reeves
The quarterback of the NY Kings has a body to die for, and as Dean Walker’s bodyguard I’m right in the line of fire. If that’s not dangerous enough, I’m posing as his girlfriend to keep close. Yet, that isn’t the worst part. He says I need a makeover to pass as his arm candy. Jerk. The more time I spend with him, the more my undercover role blurs with reality, and I’ll lose more than my job if I step over the line and into his bed.
Dean Walker
Let’s get something straight. I didn’t ask for protection, especially in the form of a female. Isn’t a death threat just another day in the life of a NY quarterback? Still, the owner of the team forces me to accept a security detail led by the tiny but tough Alexa Reeves.
But who is the real Alexa? The bodyguard, sworn to protect me, or the made-over vixen, determined to drive me crazy? As the stalker closes in, I realize I’ve put more than my life in her hands. Will Alexa safeguard my heart as fiercely as my body?
This book is dedicated to the Janet Lane Walter’s Tuesday night critique group: Janet Lane Walters, Yolanda Sly, Kelly Janicello, Tara Andrews, Gianna Simone, Elizabeth Shore, Elf Ahearn, Claire Ruane, Debbie Cracovia, and especially to the late Kat Attalla.
Thanks to author, Jami Davenport for letting my New York Kings play against her Seattle Steelheads team.
Thanks to authors, Allie Boniface and Yolanda Sly who are the unfortunate souls who muddle through my 1
st
drafts.
Champions of the Heart – Book 1
by Liz Matis
Dean Walker
I
punched the
digits of the secretary’s number into my contacts. Too bad the gorgeous blonde only offered up her body and not the reason why I’d been summoned.
If I could pinpoint what I’d done to deserve a trip to my boss’s office, I could draw up a defense before facing the owner of the New York Kings. Could be any number of things. Sleeping with one of the coach’s daughters during training camp to trash-talking to the press about our crosstown rivals, the Cougars. Or maybe it was my lackluster performance on the field during the last game.
It was kind of like being a kid again and your parents asking you what you did wrong while you debated which wrong to admit. I’d learned long ago to play dumb and not incriminate myself.
The secretary took a call, so I jammed my six-foot-four frame into a chair designed for someone who was a foot shorter. I’d stand but I knew I’d pace the waiting room like a caged beast.
Can’t let them see you sweat.
I tugged at my collar, feeling out of my element away from the field where I conducted my business and in a place where billion-dollar deals were negotiated.
Checking my phone, I wondered what could possibly be keeping my agent from helping his multimillion-dollar client.
On cue, Carlos entered the room, looking every bit the shark he was. His grease-black hair slicked back in a sixties pompadour was a contrast to the short air-dry look I sported for convenience sake. He was unflappable in his pressed business suit while my khaki-clad legs bounced like a jackhammer. I pressed my hands on my thighs to stop the motion. Carlos spoke with the secretary and then slid into the seat next to me.
“What did you do now?” he asked in a tight whisper.
“Nothing out of the ordinary.” But ordinary for me was some crazy shit.
Carlos shook his head. “You’re a high maintenance fuck.”
I laughed. “Don’t bitch because I make you earn your percentage.”
“A lousy three percent,” complained Carlos. “Don’t know why I bother with you football meatheads.”
“For the ten percent you get on our endorsement deals.” Thank God the league capped agent fees at three percent of a player’s salary, otherwise I’d be paying ten for that too. “The trading deadline is days away. You don’t think…?” I wasn’t about to chance bad luck by finishing the sentence.
Carlos threw me an annoyed look. “Your contract is iron clad. Besides Billings wouldn’t go to the trouble of a face to face.”
“You can go
in
now.” The secretary added a secretive smile as I passed by.
“Jesus. Walker you could seduce a nun.” Carlos opened the door.
“I don’t need that particular sin on my hands. Anyway, she’s no nun.”
I stepped into the ultra-modern office. A mere five years older than me, Billings was the youngest owner in the league. He stood in front of a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. Behind him the skyline of the city stretched out like a postcard. A huge desk made from half of a wing of a 747 took up the width of the space. Despite the owner’s billions, Carlos dressed better. Hell, I dressed better. Billings looked like a college student in his jeans and “Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth” t-shirt.
“Hello, Mr. Billings.” I was on my best behavior, though it went against my usual inclination to fight authority.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed we had an audience. I gave the two men, who had the bulk of my linemen, a cursory glance. A woman with dirt brown hair pulled back into a severe bun examined me, but not with any of the sexual interest that I was used to. Wearing a buttoned-up blouse underneath a boxy, sexless suit, she didn’t pique my interest either. Was she purposely trying to look dowdy? Or was she trying to distract men from a pair of full lips that on second glance I wanted wrapped around my cock?
But she didn’t look like she went in for that. And what good were lips that didn’t smile? Probably as uptight in the bedroom as her hairstyle. Carlos gripped my shoulder, and I turned my attention back to my boss.
Billings pointed to two seats in front of the imposing desk. Was the size of the chairs a tactic our billionaire owner used to make his opponents feel powerless? I wished I felt as cool as Carlos looked. I relaxed back into the seat and mirrored my agent’s pose.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Walker. Yesterday, the front office received a death threat against you.”
Was that all? I held in a sigh of relief about not being in trouble. I had more than my fair share of hate emails and tweets, and even a couple of death threats. Some were even funny.
Lost my Fantasy Football game by 4 points. That means 4 bullets to your balls. #deflatedballs
Seriously, people needed to get a life. But I took the good with the bad. It was just part of being a pro athlete. One day they loved you and the next day they hated you. I didn’t take it personally.
“Excuse me, but that’s nothing new,” I said.
“No, this is different.” With a deep frown, Billings slid a sheet of paper across the wide expanse of the desk. “It’s a color copy. The police have the original.”
“The police?” If learning they were involved wormed a wiggle of doubt in my gut, then reading the words turned that wiggle into a brick. My heart slammed against the wall of my chest, then crashed to my stomach. In perfect precision, letters from newspapers and magazines headlines had been snipped and glued to the paper.
In DEATH we shall be ONE.
Soon, my LOVE. VERY, VERY soon.
XOXO
The word
Death
and the
XOXO
were in red.
Definitely not the typical threatening tweet or email. Groupies stalked me, but I couldn’t remember any of them ever acting creepy or psychotic. None of my exes crossed my mind. Everyone knew what they were getting into based on my reputation off the field. No drama. No tears. No hearts broken.
Handing the paper to Carlos, I joked, “I’m guessing the x’s and o’s don’t stand for offense and defense.”
“This is serious, Dean.”
I winced at the use of my first name. “Come on, someone is just fucking with me.” I looked to the female. “Oh, sorry.” I might be an arrogant fuck, but I didn’t like to curse around women—except for dirty talk in the bedroom.
“No, the police have deemed the threat credible. The original letter is at the crime lab for DNA testing and fingerprinting.” Billings nodded over to the two goons and the girl. “We’ve hired a security detail to protect you.”
“Hell no.” I shot up from my seat like I’d gotten sacked and I wanted to prove to the other team that I wasn’t affected by the blow. I didn’t want my teammates to think I was scared of a veiled threat on a piece of paper. I could take care of myself. “The only protection I need on the field is from my linemen, and off the field, a box of condoms will do.”
A feminine snort sounded. I looked over in time to see the two men she was with glare at her.
As if guessing my concerns, Billings said, “Believe me, we don’t want anyone knowing either. The fans might stay home and opposing teams will demand that you be sidelined. Oslo and Williams will be posing as equipment managers on the field. And off the field, Miss Reeves will—”
“What? Knit me a sweater?”
“As I was saying…” Billing gave me a look filled with warning. “Miss Reeves will be posing as your girlfriend.”
“Just Reeves, sir.”
“My girlfriend?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “Sorry, baby doll, you are nothing like any of my girlfriends. No one will believe it. Not even with a makeover.” I usually wasn’t such an asshole, but she needed to think I was.
And oh boy, did I hit a nerve. Like a charging linebacker, Miss Uptight strode up with her light blue eyes shooting shards of ice. I had to give her credit though. The top of her head barely reached my chest yet she wasn’t intimidated by my size.
She planted her fists firmly on her hips. The buttons on her blouse threatened to pop.
“Up here, buster.” She pointed two fingers to her eyes. Though she talked tough, her voice was decidedly female. “I’ve gone undercover as a hooker, so there won’t be a problem with people believing I’m your girlfriend.”
I bit back a smile at her wit and instead gave a mocking smirk. But the image of her trying to fool some poor loser into a trick caused my brain to stutter. Not that my girlfriends looked like hookers. Slutty, oh yes. Easy, definitely yes. But I liked them that way.
I steered clear of the smart ones. A woman with brains like Miss Uptight was more dangerous than the woman who’d pasted together that threatening letter. Still, I didn’t want anyone to risk their life for me. And how was this mere slip of a girl supposed to protect me? It was insulting.
“I’m supposed to believe you’d take a bullet for me?”
“I haven’t lost a man yet. But if you don’t lose the attitude, I might make an exception.”