Hard Tackle (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page B

aware of it, and not
knowing what to make of it myself. "You going to be awkward around me
forever?" he asks quietly. My eyes snap up to his. There's a soft
expression in them, he's not making fun of me. "It probably won't surprise
you to know that I've seen plenty of women naked."
    "That's not the—"
    "—Point. I know," he acknowledges. "You look
beautiful tonight."
    "Are you the same guy who threw me in the pool?" I
ask, and he laughs. "I mean, thank you," I murmur, my gaze dropping
again. I'm surprised to feel his fingers leave the small of my back and
reappear under my chin, raising it so that I'm looking at him again. Our eyes
lock, and after a moment he takes his hand away, wrapping it back around my
waist.
    "Who was that guy at the diner?" he asks, catching
me completely off guard.
    "Which one?" I ask obliquely.
    "You know," he says with a smile. I study the gold
flecks in his irises as I answer.
    "Miles," I finally reply. "We went to high
school together. Is it so obvious?"
    He shrugs. "Are you two…"
    "Oh, God, no," I reply with a snort.
    "Why not?" he asks simply, as though such a thing
were an easy feat.
    "He's…we're not exactly on the same level," I
answer.
    "Huh," is all he says.
    I clear my throat, feeling uneasy with the way he's
examining my face. "Who was that woman you were talking to? Right before
you came over to Shaun and me."
    "Victoria Reilly. One of the sideline reporters that
cover the Buccaneers. Very off-limits," he adds, breaking into a wolfish
grin.
    "You seem like you mostly get what you want," I
observe, tilting my head slightly.
    "I can't deny that," he admits. "And do you
know what I want right now?"

 
    Chapter Six
     
    My eyes widen. "I, um—" I break off as his arm
pulls me tighter against him. "Jack, what if—"
    "No one's looking at us," he replies steadily,
though his gaze doesn't leave my face. My eyes dart around. He's right, the
dance floor around us is crowded and everyone is focused on their own partner.
    "Like you said yourself, I'm not interested in football
players," I gasp, my mind trying to work through the hormones that just
flooded my brain.
    "Here's the thing, though," he says. "I can
feel your heartbeat." His thumb grazes over my right wrist where he's
holding it and my breath almost stops. "And right now it's pounding like
you just sprinted a hundred meters. Can you deny it?"
    "No," I whisper, feeling like I'm caught in a
tractor beam.
    "My thinking is," he continues, bending his head
down slightly, "we could live in the same house together and not take
advantage of the situation, or we could—"
    "I just told you I'm interested in Miles."
    "No commitment. Just fun. Just two attractive people
spending some time together." My body begins to quiver. "You don't
know you're beautiful, do you Bree? I could make you feel it."
    The songs ends and I feel suspended in midair. We continue
to stare at each other, Jack's strong arm holding me up, until the microphone
crackles and I'm jolted out of my reverie. I take a quick step back and almost
lose my balance.
    "Good evening everyone," I hear Ray's voice boom
through the speakers. I turn with the rest of the crowd toward the stage, where
Ray and my mom are standing together. I shake my head, trying to clear the fog,
but my skin is burning where Jack's hands have just touched me. "Thank you
so much for coming tonight. Many of you have met Anne before, or hopefully have
had the chance to meet her tonight." My mom smiles and waves. "Anne
and her daughter Bree have been a blessing in my life," he continues, and
I feel dozens of eyes glance over at me. "I never thought, after Clara
passed that I—" he stops for a moment, lowers the mic, and looks at my
mother before beginning to speak again. "I know that we both wish that
Anne's son and my daughter could be here for this announcement, but…" he
holds the mic out to my mother's mouth.
    "We're engaged!" she says joyfully.
    I'm surprised by the tightness that immediately grips