Authors: Crista McHugh
“Anything for a beautiful lady.”
The corner of her mouth rose into a wry smile. “Are you always this much of a flirt?”
“Nope.” He laced his fingers behind his neck and leaned back. “Sometimes I’m worse.”
That earned him a small chuckle, and his chest tightened. He liked hearing her laugh, especially after tonight’s events.
“So how much do I owe you for my bail?”
“Nothing.” The smile faded, and the nervous twitch in her hands returned.
“Nonsense. I know how much they charged last time—”
“There was no bail because there were no charges filed against you.”
He snapped his head up. “Excuse me?”
She wiggled in her seat and turned to get on the Downtown Connector. “I made a few phone calls and got them to drop the charges against you.”
“How did you manage that? And furthermore, how much did it cost?”
“Nothing.” She turned to give him a sheepish smile. “Once I explained the situation to a few people, I was able to get the assault charges dropped in exchange for a small favor.”
He let out a low whistle. “You must know some people in high places.”
“Something like that,” she said with a shrug. “So where’s your place? Sandy Springs?”
“Roswell.” He gave her his address, still giving her a side eye. “Although I’ll warn you, I’m a bit too sore to live up to my reputation tonight, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
She laughed again, and his heart gave an unsteady thump. God, he loved that low, rich sound.
“I doubt you’re in any condition to drive yourself home tonight, so I’m just playing taxi service.”
“But maybe when I’ve recovered…”
She laughed even harder and merged onto Georgia-400. “You don’t know how to let up, do you?”
He gave her his cheeky grin, ignoring the pain around his swollen eye. “Nope. I figured you had to have a reason to bail me out of the slammer.”
The laughter vanished, and she bit that swollen bottom lip. “Actually, there was a reason I got those charges dropped.”
And it had nothing to do with her wanting to ride him senseless in the bedroom, judging by the way her shoulders tightened again. “I’m listening.”
“Well, first off, I wanted to apologize for tonight. If you hadn’t been dancing with me, you’d never have gotten into that fight, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d gotten shot.”
“Aw,” he drawled, placing his hand over his heart. “So you do care about me?”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You are something else.”
“It’s all part of my Irish charm.” He grew serious, though, and added, “But I take it there’s another reason why you used your connections to get me out.”
“Um, actually, there is.” She twisted her palms around the steering wheel a couple of times. “You know who my dad was, right?”
“Who doesn’t? Marshall Dyer was a legend. I remember attending one of his linebacker camps as a kid and being in complete awe of him.”
She nodded and waited a moment before continuing. “Just before he passed away last year, he started up a foundation to provide proper gear for youth football programs. He suffered multiple concussions during his career, and he wanted to make sure no kid suffered the after-effects like he did. I took over for him, and, well…” She drew up into a full-body wince, her brows forming a wrinkle above her nose. “I haven’t been able to generate the interest I’d like for the organization.”
“And where do I fit into this?”
“We’re having a fundraiser in a couple of months, and I’d really appreciate it if you could give it a celebrity endorsement.”
He drew in a slow breath, mulling over her request. “What about Tre?”
“We both know Tre’s a third stringer and in danger of getting cut any day now.” Her words were blunt but honest, without any traces of bitterness or anger. “You’re a Pro-Bowler, a big man in the football community. People know your name as well as they knew my father’s. And if your name became associated with the foundation or even with me—”
“Where do you come into this scheme?”
She squirmed under his scrutiny. “I’ll be upfront with you, Frank, and tell you that I’m not interested in a relationship or anything close to that right now. However, I wouldn’t be opposed to a few staged dates until the gala.”
“A fake relationship?”
She licked her lips and nodded. “If you and I show up at a couple of events or restaurants around town, people will think we’re dating, and when they look me up, they’ll find their way to the foundation.”
“And how realistic are you willing to make these fake dates look? Would you spare a kiss or two for the camera?”
“If necessary. I know I’m not like some of the other girls you’ve dated, but I’m respectable, and my squeaky clean image will help yours by association. I’ll play my part if it helps the foundation, but I didn’t want to lead you on in thinking it was anything real or that I’d be hopping into the sack with you on the first date. I’m not that type of girl.”
She was so upfront, so honest about her commitment to her father’s foundation, part of him was ready to agree right there. But a little voice in the back of his mind urged caution. It sounded good in general, but he needed to dig a little deeper before he associated his name with anything. Not to mention the fact he wanted more than just a few staged kisses from her. “I’ll need to speak with my agent first.”
“I understand.” She took the Roswell exit and slowed the car down to comply with the speed limit. “All our information is on the website, and I’m willing to answer any questions you or your agent may have. I just—”
He waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he asked, “Just what?”
“I just don’t want the foundation to fail. Daddy was so passionate about it, and I feel like I’d be letting him down if I couldn’t carry on his work. I’m a very private person, but I’m willing to go out of my comfort zone if it will make this fundraiser a success.”
Once again, she became the damsel in distress, and he was unable to resist her call for help. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She rewarded him with a smile that radiated pure joy. “Thank you.”
An odd feeling tugged at his gut when he saw it. Yeah, she knew how to press all his buttons. Too bad she was forbidden fruit.
He waved to the security guard at the entrance to his gated community. Thankfully, his celebrity status made him easily recognizable. Well, that and his red hair. The guard let them pass, and before he knew it, Kiana was pulling into his driveway.
“You going to be okay?” he asked. “You’re welcome to crash here if you need to hide out someplace safe.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m pretty safe at my place.”
The familiar awkwardness took over as he got out of the car. He wanted to see her again, but he wasn’t sure if she only wanted him for her foundation. “I’ll be in touch with you in a few days.”
“Sounds good.” Her chin quivered, despite the brave face she was trying to give him. She’d been shaken up tonight.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right tonight?” he asked one more time, the car door still open.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” The quivering vanished. “Thanks again, Frank, for everything.”
A warm glow filled her honey-colored eyes, and he wondered if “everything” included what had passed between them on the dance floor before they’d been interrupted.
“You are most welcome, lovely lady.” He closed the door and watched her drive away with a sense of uncertainty.
One thing was certain, though. He would see Kiana Dyer again.
And hopefully, soon.
Chapter Three
Frank stared at his reflection and cursed. It was bad enough he’d been the only one of his brothers cursed with red hair. Now he had a fist-sized shiner around his left eye to add to his odd look. At least the swelling had gone down from last night. He could only imagine what Kiana must’ve thought of him when she drove him home last night. No wonder she’d turned down his invitation.
He shuffled to the shower and scrubbed away the remnants of the club—the smoke, the booze, the blood. The only thing he didn’t want to forget was how tempting the goddess in his arms felt as their bodies moved together. They would’ve made magic in the sack—no doubt there. But she also spelled trouble.
Too bad he liked trouble.
Once he dried off and got dressed, he found his phone and called Adam.
His eldest brother answered with, “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Nothing.”
“You only call when you need me to bail you out,” Adam accused.
Frank’s cheeks burned, and he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t been a very good brother lately.”
“So?”
“Let me start off by saying I’m not in jail.”
“For once.”
Embarrassment turned to irritation, but it still heated his skin. “Hey, I’ve been good lately. It’s been two years since I got into trouble.”
“But there’s something you want to talk about, judging by the guilt in your voice and the fact you’re calling me at nine in the morning on a Sunday.”
Damn, his brother knew him too well. “Well, they say confession is good for the soul.”
“You’ll need more than just ten Hail Marys to absolve you of some of your sins, especially after that incident involving you and Jenny’s cousin last month. I don’t think the Nguyen family will ever forgive you for that.”
“It was all her idea to hook up in the laundry room, and I wasn’t going to turn down a little hottie like her.”
“And of course, you were nothing more than a victim.” A lighter, teasing note filled Adam’s voice. “So tell me what happened.”
“I’m sure it made the news.”
Now it was Adam’s turn to curse. The sound of a keyboard clicking filled the background. A minute later, more cursing followed. “Please tell me you weren’t in that nightclub shooting.”
“Bingo.”
Panic rose into his brother’s voice. “Shit, you’re not in the hospital or anything?”
Frank toyed with the idea of stringing Adam along, but the panic seemed too real. “I’m fine. Just sporting a lovely black eye from it all.”
A string of incomprehensible muttering filled the line for a good twenty seconds. “Start from the beginning, and by that, I don’t mean you were in the club, minding your own business.”
“But I was,” Frank said innocently. “I was hanging out with Tre when his sister, Kiana, joined us. We started dancing, then her ex showed up, gave us some grief, and one thing led to another.”
“Jesus, Frank, are you a magnet for trouble?” Adam paused. “It says here that two people were sent to the hospital.”
“I didn’t hit them that hard.” But part of him was glad to learn those creeps needed medical attention. Hopefully, they’d learn not to mess with Kiana again.
“Frank.” His brother said his name like a plea to behave. “According to the article, one of them was the gunman.”
“That would be Kiana’s ex.”
“Shit! You got into a fight with a man with a gun? What kind of hot-headed idiot are you?”
Frank collapsed on his oversize couch and stared at the ceiling. “He tried to pull the gun out mid-fight, but Kiana knocked it out of his hand.”
“So the woman was involved in the fight, too? That’s a first for you.”
He grinned. Maybe Kiana wasn’t a complete damsel in distress. She’d had his back when it counted. “Listen, the fight itself doesn’t matter. I’m safe, and the good news is, Kiana managed to get the charges dropped.”
Another pause answered him. “And you somehow managed to stay out of the media this time.”
That was a first. He’d been booked, which meant any of the scumbags trolling the jail’s records would’ve been able to find his name. Maybe her connections were more extensive than he first thought.
“But the gunman was some kind of celebrity. A rapper called King Mal.”
Frank snorted. That prick
would
call himself King Mal. “And he’ll be the one facing charges, not me.”
“Looks like it.” A squeak came from the background, and Frank imagined Adam leaning back in his desk chair. “So, is that the only reason you called? To brag about putting two men in the hospital without getting arrested?”
“More like reassure you that I’m fine. I know how you worry.”
“I’m going to be as gray as Dad was before I’m forty.”
“And you and Lia don’t even have kids yet.”
“That’s because I’m too busy trying to take care of all my little brothers.” A wistful note filled Adam’s voice. Frank knew his eldest brother and his wife wanted kids. If Adam had his way, he’d have a brood as large as their parents had. “What else did you want to tell me?”
“Kiana asked if I’d be willing to give an endorsement for the foundation she runs, and I wanted to do a little digging before I agree to it.”
“Want me to have Cully do some snooping?” Adam replied, dropping the name of the private investigator his business had used on more than one occasion.