The All-Star Antes Up
Page 66
It was true that Luke didn’t have an obvious Achilles’ heel. His shoulders and knees were sturdy enough to handle the constant wear and tear of the sport, with only a few minor surgeries. He took very good care of his body, so it mended quickly. But he also played through pain. And not just limped through it, but played full-out without anyone being the wiser. “It’s a gift.”
“I wonder.” Those green eyes of Miller’s were damned penetrating. “So the exquisite Ms. Lauda is not the love of your life?”
Luke allowed himself a tight smile. “Just my personal trainer.”
“Too bad. She’s quite beautiful.”
Miranda’s velvet brown eyes, her serene, elegant voice, the glossy tendrils of her hair, and the feel of her satin skin floated through Luke’s mind. “Never challenge Elyssa to a capoeira match. You’ll get your butt kicked.”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Miller said. “Based on your date, I’m guessing you’re not making any progress with our little wager of hearts, either.”
“I have other things to focus on during the season.” But today at the Empire Center, he had found his mind again wandering to Miranda during the video review. Not just how she felt when she was moving underneath him, but her belief that he could pass the Series 7 exam. He’d ordered the study guide that morning.
He’d also put Doug on the task of tracking down Miranda’s dream job. There couldn’t be too many luxury high-rise buildings nearing completion in Midtown, and he trusted Doug to zero in on the right one. Luke would take it from there. He was damned if she would work for that puke Spindle any longer than necessary.
“Archer?”
Luke snapped out of his reverie to find Miller giving him an amused glance. “Maybe you’re making more progress than you let on,” the writer said. “You had a strangely dazed look on your face.”
That pulled him up short, since he knew what—or whom—he’d been thinking about. “After a few minutes of your conversation, I zone out.”
Miller cracked a laugh. “I like you. Underneath that homespun Texas twang and clichéd dimple is the soul of an ancient pillager.” He gestured to Luke’s hands. “So why don’t you wear your Super Bowl ring?”
“Which one?” He put on his patented “that’s all on that topic” smile.
Miller was impervious. “Your favorite one, of course.”
“I don’t have a favorite.”
“Sure you do.” Miller’s eyes glittered. “It’s the one that cost you the most.”
“That should be my least favorite.” And it would be the most recent one. The Empire had clawed their way into the playoffs and then hung on by their fingernails to make it to the Super Bowl. There had been times when he felt like he was carrying the entire fifty-three-man roster on his battered and aching back. At the end of the game, as he hoisted the Vince Lombardi Trophy over his head, his overwhelming emotion had been relief. He could go home and rest.
Miller disagreed. “The things you work the hardest to earn are the ones you treasure.”
Trainor interrupted them as he rejoined the group minus his date. “I need to talk to you privately,” Trainor ground out. He swung his gaze to Luke. “Both of you. Please excuse us, ladies.” He stalked away from the table, obviously expecting the other two men to follow him.
Miller quirked a smile at Luke. “This promises to be entertaining.”
Luke apologized to Jane and Elyssa for leaving them before he strolled after the CEO. Trainor was waiting for them in a small conference room, his arms crossed and a look of irritation on his face. “Keep it up and I’ll leave you with empty seats at your table, Archer.” Trainor’s gray eyes were pure steel as he held Luke’s gaze.
“What are you talking about, man?” Luke asked, but he knew he and Miller had been too obvious about their interest in Trainor’s companion.
“Chloe’s a smart woman,” Trainor said. “She’s already asked me what’s going on.” He cut his eyes to the writer. “So lay off the interrogation, Miller.”
“Will you tell her about the bet, or will that be our little secret?” Miller was amused rather than repentant.
Luke considered the question himself. “I say keep it to yourself. It might just make her mad.”
“Why wouldn’t she be flattered to know she won the bet for you?” Miller asked. “By the way, I can see why you chose her. She’s got that certain something. Well done.”
“You’re both getting way ahead of yourselves.” Trainor’s tone was hard. “I’ll take Chloe home right now if you don’t back off.”
“Hey, talk to Miller, not me,” Luke said.
Miller laughed. “You’ve got it bad, my boyo. I’ll behave, if only so I can watch you guard your Chloe like a dog with a bone.”
“You’re an idiot,” Trainor said, his ramrod posture going even stiffer.
Maybe it was a good thing Luke hadn’t been able to bring Miranda.
The thought surprised him. Why did he worry that Miller would make Miranda a target? She didn’t look at him the way Chloe looked at Trainor. Luke didn’t hold her with the possessiveness Trainor showed around Chloe. There was nothing for Miller to pick up on.
With a sigh of relief, Luke settled himself in the back of the limousine as it headed downtown, dancing the stop-and-go tango of New York City traffic. Loosening his bow tie, he popped the stud out of his collar to open it.
“I wonder.” Those green eyes of Miller’s were damned penetrating. “So the exquisite Ms. Lauda is not the love of your life?”
Luke allowed himself a tight smile. “Just my personal trainer.”
“Too bad. She’s quite beautiful.”
Miranda’s velvet brown eyes, her serene, elegant voice, the glossy tendrils of her hair, and the feel of her satin skin floated through Luke’s mind. “Never challenge Elyssa to a capoeira match. You’ll get your butt kicked.”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Miller said. “Based on your date, I’m guessing you’re not making any progress with our little wager of hearts, either.”
“I have other things to focus on during the season.” But today at the Empire Center, he had found his mind again wandering to Miranda during the video review. Not just how she felt when she was moving underneath him, but her belief that he could pass the Series 7 exam. He’d ordered the study guide that morning.
He’d also put Doug on the task of tracking down Miranda’s dream job. There couldn’t be too many luxury high-rise buildings nearing completion in Midtown, and he trusted Doug to zero in on the right one. Luke would take it from there. He was damned if she would work for that puke Spindle any longer than necessary.
“Archer?”
Luke snapped out of his reverie to find Miller giving him an amused glance. “Maybe you’re making more progress than you let on,” the writer said. “You had a strangely dazed look on your face.”
That pulled him up short, since he knew what—or whom—he’d been thinking about. “After a few minutes of your conversation, I zone out.”
Miller cracked a laugh. “I like you. Underneath that homespun Texas twang and clichéd dimple is the soul of an ancient pillager.” He gestured to Luke’s hands. “So why don’t you wear your Super Bowl ring?”
“Which one?” He put on his patented “that’s all on that topic” smile.
Miller was impervious. “Your favorite one, of course.”
“I don’t have a favorite.”
“Sure you do.” Miller’s eyes glittered. “It’s the one that cost you the most.”
“That should be my least favorite.” And it would be the most recent one. The Empire had clawed their way into the playoffs and then hung on by their fingernails to make it to the Super Bowl. There had been times when he felt like he was carrying the entire fifty-three-man roster on his battered and aching back. At the end of the game, as he hoisted the Vince Lombardi Trophy over his head, his overwhelming emotion had been relief. He could go home and rest.
Miller disagreed. “The things you work the hardest to earn are the ones you treasure.”
Trainor interrupted them as he rejoined the group minus his date. “I need to talk to you privately,” Trainor ground out. He swung his gaze to Luke. “Both of you. Please excuse us, ladies.” He stalked away from the table, obviously expecting the other two men to follow him.
Miller quirked a smile at Luke. “This promises to be entertaining.”
Luke apologized to Jane and Elyssa for leaving them before he strolled after the CEO. Trainor was waiting for them in a small conference room, his arms crossed and a look of irritation on his face. “Keep it up and I’ll leave you with empty seats at your table, Archer.” Trainor’s gray eyes were pure steel as he held Luke’s gaze.
“What are you talking about, man?” Luke asked, but he knew he and Miller had been too obvious about their interest in Trainor’s companion.
“Chloe’s a smart woman,” Trainor said. “She’s already asked me what’s going on.” He cut his eyes to the writer. “So lay off the interrogation, Miller.”
“Will you tell her about the bet, or will that be our little secret?” Miller was amused rather than repentant.
Luke considered the question himself. “I say keep it to yourself. It might just make her mad.”
“Why wouldn’t she be flattered to know she won the bet for you?” Miller asked. “By the way, I can see why you chose her. She’s got that certain something. Well done.”
“You’re both getting way ahead of yourselves.” Trainor’s tone was hard. “I’ll take Chloe home right now if you don’t back off.”
“Hey, talk to Miller, not me,” Luke said.
Miller laughed. “You’ve got it bad, my boyo. I’ll behave, if only so I can watch you guard your Chloe like a dog with a bone.”
“You’re an idiot,” Trainor said, his ramrod posture going even stiffer.
Maybe it was a good thing Luke hadn’t been able to bring Miranda.
The thought surprised him. Why did he worry that Miller would make Miranda a target? She didn’t look at him the way Chloe looked at Trainor. Luke didn’t hold her with the possessiveness Trainor showed around Chloe. There was nothing for Miller to pick up on.
With a sigh of relief, Luke settled himself in the back of the limousine as it headed downtown, dancing the stop-and-go tango of New York City traffic. Loosening his bow tie, he popped the stud out of his collar to open it.
