Kissing Madeline (Dearest #3) (6 page)

“Being able to see the plays before the route clears. Having a sense for your guys and being so connected with them that you know where they’re headed before they do.”

Her expression is flirty. Big, luminous eyes peer up at me through thick lashes. “Sounds like a good bromance.”

Laughing, I agree. “And I have all the moves.”

She gives me a cheeky grin. “I bet you do.” After a few more questions, she turns to the camera. “We hope to see more of Daren’s moves in two weeks at the first preseason game against New York. I’m Maddie McDermott for
WNEN. Back to you in the studio.”

I’m not entirely sure what I expect her reaction to be when we’re done, but it’s not this. Her smile instantly fades, her shoulders tense, and that breezy demeanor vanishes beneath a furrowed brow.

“Thanks, Daren.” She holds out her hand to shake mine.

Seriously? She wants to shake my hand? What happened to the Maddie who just flirted her ass off with me? Slowly, I extend my arm and grip her slender hand in mine.

But despite her less than friendly vibe, it’s hard to miss the fire behind her eyes. It’s a look I recognize every day before I get on the field. Fuck, she wears it well.

Before I can say anything, she takes off for the parking lot, at which point I can’t help but stare at her ass, which is just as glorious as I imagined.
One I’d love to spank.

CHAPTER SEVEN

- Maddie -

This is how I know the importance of a segment. On a typical story, I shuffle out the station with a camera bag slung across my shoulders, lamenting the fact that I have to trek around Boston in heels to shoot my own footage. When a story is important, reporters get paired with a cameraman. And if the assignment is really hot,
they get paired with a producer
and
a cameraman. Apparently, Daren Sloan is hot. A hot story, that is.

Wiping my forehead, I sink into the bench seat of the van. I’m still on edge, still feeling unsettled, and I’m not sure if it’s because Spencer nearly crawled up my butt when I was shooting or if it had something to do with my infuriating neighbor.

The drive back to the station is surprisingly quiet. I expect Spencer to say something, as he’s never short on opinions, but he stares straight ahead as Joe directs the van through the congested streets.

Internally, I give myself a pat on the back. Aside from the whole “you like to go deep” comment, I didn’t say anything too stupid during the interview despite my lack of preparation. That in and of itself is a lesson. Maybe I should have prepped for this story even though it was Nicole’s. Because if I want to make it in broadcasting, I have to be better prepared than everyone else.

Daren was his usual charming self.
You’ll love me. I promise.
I roll my eyes.

Good lord, he’s full of himself.

But darn it, he looked good today. And what’s worse, he smelled great. Like he had just stepped out of the shower. Not that I was trying to sniff him or anything.

That’s it, though. Daren Sloan probably assumes he can just smile in a girl’s direction, and she’ll spread her legs. Asshole.

I am so tired of men.

At least I’m done with the assignment.

Glancing at Spencer’s rigid posture in the front seat, I can’t help but wonder why he’s so quiet.

“So… Spencer. Was that okay? The interview?”

Jeez, Maddie. Way to sound confident.

He turns and glares at me. “Which part? The part where you threw ultimatums in my face about how we were going to cover the story or the part where you insulted the number one draft pick and had the audacity to say you didn’t like football? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I suck in a breath. “I… I…”

He turns back. “Don’t fucking talk right now. I don’t want to hear it.”

My eyes sting. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but my mouth is dry.

God.

Spencer might be a prick, but he’s right. I don’t know what got into me. The moment I heard I was interviewing Daren, I threw him in the “obnoxious neighbor” category. We have mutual friends, and Sheri wants to set us up on a date, and I can’t stand the way my mind drifts to think about those hazel eyes.

This is why I never mix business with pleasure. Because I can’t keep my emotions in check. But it’s what makes me good at what I do. I care. I invest myself in my stories, and I always dig to get to the heart of the issue.

My cheeks burn as I think back to what my old professor was always telling me. That I needed more distance. That I needed to be less involved. I never got it. I always thought he was being some out-of-touch academic. But maybe I’m not as good at this as I thought.

And now I’ve pissed off the Douchebag.

Swallowing my pride, I bite the bullet. “You’re right. I am so sorry.”

Spencer shakes his head as he pulls out his laptop. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

* * *

My hands smooth down my A-line skirt. I reach up to knock on the door and pull away. Glancing at my watch, I wonder if ten p.m. on a Saturday is too late to do this. But I just got home twenty minutes ago. This is the first opportunity since the interview two days ago to make amends.

I turn back and look at my door, five feet away across the hall.

Maddie, you’re being a wuss. Come on. You
do
know Daren. Smooth this over so you can sleep tonight.

Ever since our interview, I’ve barely been able to sleep. The idea that I’ve been unprofessional makes me ill, and I need to make this right.

I knock three times, and in the silence that follows, my anxiousness grows. Just as I’m about to leave, footsteps behind me make me whirl around to find Daren and a tiny brunette with big brown eyes.

“Maddie.” Daren looks surprised to see me.

The woman places her hand on his arm and steps closer to him.

Shit. This is a date.

I open my mouth and shut it, not sure if I can apologize in front of this girl. But the sound of male voices and a small stampede cut me off. Two seconds later, I’m surrounded by several NFL players.

“McDermott! Girl, whatcha doing here?” one asks. But I’m too discombobulated to pinpoint who just spoke to me.

Daren has a curious expression on his face before he breaks out into a smile. I blink. And blink again.

And then I go on full-out autopilot.

“I’m baking brownies, and I’m out of sugar. Do you have any?” What the ever-loving hell am I talking about?

He tilts his head back and laughs. “Do I have any sugar?” His dimples peek out. “Why, yes, Ms. McDermott, I think I have some sugar for you.”

The guys chuckle behind him, and I feel my face heat. Jesus Christ.
Abort, Maddie!

Two cups of granulated sugar later, I am back in the safe confines of Sheri’s condo. Leaning against the front door, I drop my head back and close my eyes.

What just happened?

I’ve interviewed senators and congressmen and celebrities on live television, and I never get flustered. Letting one dumb jock with a pretty face and oversized muscles turn me into a bumbling fool is so ridiculous I want to slap myself.

I just need to look on the bright side. At least I don’t have to interview him again.

* * *

The weight of the deadline presses against my chest. I glance at the clock on my desk and take a quick breath. Ten minutes. I have ten minutes until this needs to be uploaded for the Monday midday broadcast. Despite my nerves, my voice is steady as I finish recording the audio.

This is my happy place. The buzz of the chase. The adrenaline spike of getting the story done right.

I grab the phone off the cradle. When Judith, one of the producers, answers, I give her the only answer that’s acceptable. “We’re locked and loaded.”

“One sec.” She types with such heavy fingers that I can hear the keyboard through the receiver. Judith mumbles to herself for a minute and then there’s silence. “Perfect. I love that last line about the food pantry’s motto. Nice touch.”

I grin to myself. Not that I’m the type of person who goes looking for a pat on the back, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my mojo has taken a hit since Spencer forced me to do that story. I watched it air from my couch yesterday morning and forced myself to sit on my hands so I didn’t bite my nails. I’m almost loath to admit that the banter between Daren and me went off smoothly. Sheri walked in mid-way through the segment and squealed something about how adorable we looked. That I could have done without.

But with the sports segment behind me, I’m feeling back in the groove as I cross off item after item on my to-do list.

When I come around the corner, I catch sight of Roger and Spencer squaring off in the hallway. Roger’s brows are set low in a frown.

I glance down as I pass, not wanting to get caught in those crosshairs. Spencer points at me. “Maddie, just the person I needed to see.” His faux friendliness sets my nerves on edge.

I force a smile. “What’s up?”

“Congratulations. Your segment with Daren has gotten more buzz than any other sports story this summer. We’ve been flooded with emails and tweets.”

“Great. I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure Nicole will be excited to take the reins.” My cubicle partner has not been shy about the fact that she’d like to strangle me in my sleep.

Roger is still frowning, which can’t be a good sign.

Spencer shakes his head. “That’s just it. We don’t want to mess with a good thing, so you’ll be doing the series.”

“But this is Nicole’s story. And you know sports is not my thing. I just don’t want to—”

“I could give a flying fuck about Nicole losing this. You’re doing this story, and you’re going to give it every ounce of your attention and enthusiasm, or you can find another news station in Boston that will take your whiny ass.”

My mouth drops open. I’m not whiny… am I?

Once again, I’m speechless. I blink back the burn in my eyes because I will not freaking cry.

I look to Roger, whose grim expression confirms the worst, that he has no say in this.

Mentally slapping myself out of silence, I stick my shoulders back. “Of course I’ll do the story.” My words come out a whisper. I clear my throat. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

Spencer rolls his eyes and takes off down the hall. Jeez, could he make me feel like a bigger idiot?

“Madeline,” Roger says with a sigh, “this
is
an opportunity. Perhaps not the one you want, but if it gets the traction we think it could have, it could catapult you like no other human interest story will. Because, as you know, it’ll still be a while before you get a shot at headlining news.”

I nod quickly.

“But I’m sorry about Spencer.” Roger leans in and whispers, “If his father wasn’t on our board, I’d tell him to go fuck himself.”

A laugh escapes me, along with a few tears that I quickly wipe away.

Roger averts his eyes, maybe embarrassed that I’m crying. Damn it. I’ve never cried on the job. He pats my shoulder. “The best revenge is success, kiddo. Go kick ass.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

- Daren -

Once again, at the next interview, Maddie looks less than thrilled to see me. When she came over to my place last weekend to ask for sugar, I was almost tempted to look behind her to make sure no one was holding her at gunpoint.

I chuckle, a little amused by her lack of enthusiasm for covering football. “Aww. C’mon, McDermott. I can’t be that bad to work with.”

A lightning-fast smile replaces her frown. But it’s too late. I know she doesn’t want to be here. Especially wearing those workout shorts and that tank top. Speaking of those workout shorts, damn, those legs are long. And toned. They’re the kind of legs I’d like to wrap around my—

“Up here, Sloan.” She tilts her head until my eyes reach her face. I grin, unable to hide my obvious appreciation for her lengthy limbs. She gets right to business. “So I was thinking we could talk a little more about your offense today, maybe some of your favorite plays. I’d love to know how you decide what calls to make.”

She might not be excited to be doing this, but I gotta admit I enjoy explaining the game to her. “Sure, Maddie. Whatever you want.”

She flips through her notes, which have little color-coded Post-Its sticking out the side at perfect right angles.

“Actually, change of plans,” some girl in a skin-tight top says as she strolls up to us with a wide grin. She holds out her hand to me. “Hi, Daren. I’m Nicole.” I shake her hand, waiting for her to explain. She turns to Maddie and the chick’s grin widens. “Thanks for warming him up for me. Spencer says you can go back to that bird story you wanted to do.” When Nicole turns to me, she rolls her eyes.