Harley Brennan, Running Back Read online

  “I doubt that. These women are all clamoring to be your chosen one. But that choice is yours. This is all about you, buddy. Don’t forget that. You have to make the right choice for yourself. These women knew what the deal was when they signed on. This isn’t unexpected.”

  Harley sank down in the chair in front of the board with pictures. He drained the cup, put it down, took a deep breath, and pointed his finger. “These girls. These five. They gotta go.” He touched each picture, one at a time.

  “You can always change your mind at the last minute,” Greg advised.

  “Okay, but I think I’ve got it.”

  “Ready to go out there?”

  The footballer nodded. Greg opened the door then followed Harley into the hall. He waited for Greg to gather the women and announce that it was time for the invitation ceremony.

  “Harley will be passing out twenty heart invitations. Invitations to stay. Five of you will be going home tonight. This should be no surprise. I know you didn’t have time to connect yet, but that’s the way this plays. Chemistry is important.”

  After the little speech, Greg introduced Harley. The running back took a deep breath and entered the room. All the women smiled at him, but he could see their nervous expressions and pleading eyes. He knew he wanted to keep Vanessa, a redhead named Mallory, Cathy, and Lorna, a blonde. The rest he had judged by snippets of conversation, but mostly by how much he wanted to sleep with them, just on their looks.

  He wasn’t proud of his feelings and wouldn’t admit them to anyone, but his teammates would understand. How else was he supposed to pick out twenty women to stay? It had to be by looks, physical attraction, except for those who had put themselves front and center and actually spoken to him. At least one had turned him off with her aggressive behavior—she’d be the first to get the boot.

  When he’d made his selections, the unchosen women hugged him goodbye. Harley thought his heart had stopped beating. He wished to become instantly invisible, but no such luck. So, he manned up and met their hurt expressions as briefly and warmly as possible.

  When the last one headed for the car, Greg ushered Harley out of the room. “You okay?”

  “That was rough,” Harley confessed, mopping his face with his handkerchief.

  “It’s only going to get rougher. You didn’t know those girls. Next, you will be sending home girls you know, and even like.”

  “I wish I’d thought this through.”

  “But in the end, you’ll have that one girl who’s crazy about you. The one you want. Can only marry one at a time, anyway,” Greg commented.

  “Good point.”

  “Take a breath, and let’s go inside and get acquainted with the women you kept.”

  As if Greg had lifted two tons off Harley’s shoulders, relief flowed through him.

  And a room full of gorgeous women awaited his return.

  * * * *

  Shyla rode from the studio to the hotel with an associate producer and an intern. She carried a case that held her drawings for some of the adventures for Harley and whatever women he chose. They set up in a small room in the back.

  “Where’s the husband guy?” she asked, trying not to sound too interested.

  “Harley Brennan? Oh, he’s in the front, where the big meeting rooms are. Too bad you won’t get a look at him. He’s gorgeous. Dark hair, almost black, and the most beautiful blue eyes ever. A real hunk. Can’t wait until he takes his shirt off at the pool. Yowsa!” Sarah exclaimed.

  Shyla let out a breath. “Yeah. I’m sure.” Relief allowed her to concentrate on her job.

  “Dan’ll be back in a minute. He’ll want to see your ideas.”

  “I have some drawings.”

  “Great. Can I see?”

  “Sure.”

  The women set up the sketches on a table and pored over them. Dan, the executive producer, joined them. Bianca, the intern, made a list of the materials they rattled off that would be needed for the locations they’d be visiting.

  Shy was in work mode—totally focused on creating an amazing, romantic ambiance. She’d almost forgotten she was doing this for Harley and some strange female. Almost. She tamped down the jealousy in her gut that raised its ugly head. No time for that stuff. Instead, she harnessed her desire for the footballer and translated her feelings to the page, to fashion settings conducive to love. What would make me fall in love with Harley? She chuckled to herself once or twice, but controlled it when Sarah gave her a curious glance.

  They broke for lunch. Dan had a tray of sandwiches and drinks sent in. They sat cross-legged on the beds, eating and chatting.

  “How did you get into this business, Shyla?” Sarah asked.

  “I studied design at Cooper Union in New York.”

  “You must be really good. Isn’t that school free?”

  “It was. If they accept you, they used to give you a full scholarship.”

  “Wow, free school.”

  “Not anymore. In 2013, they started giving only half scholarships on tuition instead of full.”

  “Still a pretty good deal.”

  “I was lucky. I finished before then. But don’t kid yourself. They work you hard, plenty hard. They weren’t giving away an education to people who want to get drunk, smoke pot, and screw around. It’s a very serious place.”

  “I’ve no doubt. So, that makes you la crème de la crème.”

  Shyla felt color in her cheeks. “Just lucky.”

  “I doubt that. I saw your drawings. You’re the top.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let’s go over the list of things you’ll need then call it a day. You look tired. Jet lag. And tomorrow, we have to hit the ground running.”

  Shyla whipped a small notebook out of her bag. “Beach picnic in Malibu, right?”

  “That’s it. It should be high seventies tomorrow. ”

  “Sounds fine. We start setting up in the morning?”

  “Right. We need to move you into this hotel. There’s too much happening here for you to be running back and forth. The limo’s outside. Hop over there, get your stuff, and join the crew here for dinner.”

  “Okay. Hmm. They’ll be dining on the beach. Candlelight. We need hurricane lamps.” Shyla jotted down a few things, tore out the sheet, and handed it to Sarah.

  “I’ll give it to the intern. I’m meeting my husband in a few. Not too many nights before we hit the road.”

  “How do you keep a marriage together when you’re away for such a long time?” Shyla gathered up her artwork.

  “It’s not easy. But Bill’s a great guy. I’m lucky to have him. If you want to make it work, you can. I gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

  Shyla took the limo to her hotel, packed up, and headed back to the place where the show was being filmed. She carried her bag down the hall to her new room. Maybe Harley and I didn’t want it enough? Maybe we didn’t try long enough? Too late now. In two months, he’ll be engaged to someone else.

  She sighed as she slipped the key card into the lock. It had been a hard day. In spite of her reputation, she’d had to prove herself to people she’d never worked with before. And explain her design ideas in detail. Dan had questioned her while Sarah had doubted they could get all the required materials. With her efforts to forget Harley failing, Shy’s nerves were shot. She needed to de-stress, because tomorrow she was going to have to make all the drawings, ideas, and unique setting a reality, on a beach, wrestling with sand and weather.

  She raided the mini bar, toed off her shoes, and stretched out on the bed. Shy guzzled wine directly from the small bottle, stopping only to answer her cell. It was Penny.

  “How’s it going?”

  Shy took another slug. “Well, it’s…uh, it’s.” Tears clouded her eyes. Her shoulders sagged.

  “What’s wrong? Shy? Shyla? Talk to me.”

  Emotion had closed her throat. She wiped furiously at her eyes. Stupid crybaby. It’s your own fault!

  “Shy? Are you there?”
<
br />   After a deep, shuddering breath, she found her voice. “I’m here.”

  “What the hell? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  “I thought this would be a piece of cake, kind of like a joke, with me behind the scenes where Harley can’t see me.” She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.

  “Isn’t it?”

  Shyla shook her head, even though her friend couldn’t see. “No way. It’s horrible. I’m going to be creating all these sexy, seductive settings so Harley and some girl can get the hots for each other and fall in love. I hate it.”

  “Oh, Shy!”

  “And the producers doubt everything I say. Whatever made me think I could do this?”

  “You can’t leave now, can you?”

  “I signed a contract. I’m in. Damn it.”

  “It’s only two months.”

  “It seems like a lifetime.”

  “You can do it. You’re a professional. Just stay behind the scenes, pretend you’re doing it for someone else, and show those people you’re the best designer in the world.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Shyla finished the bottle.

  Penny laughed. “Of course. It’s the truth. I’ve never seen you crap out on a challenge.”

  “This may be a first.”

  “You can’t. You won’t. Call me tomorrow. I bet it’s going to be a better day.”

  Shyla fell into a deep, restful sleep. She awoke with the resolve to pass the test. Shy and Sarah finalized their plans over breakfast. Shyla inspected the materials the intern had found then they loaded up the SUV and headed for the beach.

  While Bianca fashioned a bench out of wood and sand, Shyla covered a small table with a heavy, tapestry tablecloth in a woven design of deep blue and light green. She placed two small, hurricane lamps to help anchor the cloth, which she hoped was heavy enough not to blow away, and then added several, larger lights on poles to illuminate the path.

  A traditional, china pattern in blue and white was flanked by real sterling silver flatware. Two lightweight, fleece blankets in dark blue covered the bench. Several pillows in green and white patterns rested there as well.

  Although it took all day Wednesday to get the scene set properly, Sarah and Dan were pleased with the results—an elegant, unique setting in subtle sea colors. The lighting was perfect, not too bright and not too dim.

  “We’ll be serving lobster casseroles and white wine,” Sarah said.

  “Perfect,” Shy put in, rubbing her hands together to get rid of sand.

  They hopped into the SUV and returned to the hotel, leaving Dan behind to deal with the camera crew, the sound crew, and the caterers. Shy took a shower and ordered an early dinner in her room. She turned on the television and picked the five-hour BBC version of Pride and Prejudice to take her mind off things. Maybe, being transported back to Regency England by the movie, she could forget that Harley Brennan was wooing some babe in the cozy, romantic setting she had created.

  * * * *

  Harley slipped on the khakis and long-sleeved T-shirt the show had provided. The blue was a slightly darker version of his eye color. He had shaved and slapped on aftershave, Midnight for Men, a favorite of his teammates Trunk Mahoney and Griff Montgomery. After combing his hair, he joined Greg Carson in the lobby.

  Harley was about to have his first date. It was with the sexy, beautiful brunette, Vanessa. Dinner on the beach. He was nervous and excited at the same time. Shit, I’m not fourteen. Calm down, asshole. You’ve been on a zillion dates. No big deal. But this was a big deal. Greg kept repeating the possibility that each woman could be his future wife.

  He figured Greg simply meant to be encouraging, but his constant harping on the idea made Harley want to jump out a window. The pressure ramped up with this meeting. Vanessa joined him in the spacious hotel entryway. He took her hand and led her to the limo that awaited.

  Conversation in the limousine was awkward. Harley asked her about her work.

  “I’ve done some modeling, but I want to get into acting.”

  “I’m not surprised you’ve modeled. For what kind of company?”

  “A clothing catalog, some hand modeling for jewelry. I’m hoping to get into fashion magazines. I think that would be a stepping stone to acting.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he replied.

  “I took a cosmetology course. Makeup might also be a way to break in,” she said.

  He nodded. Judging by the amount of cosmetics loaded on her face, he believed her every word. Vanessa was gorgeous enough to become an actress or model, in Harley’s opinion. Physically, she attracted him. If this had been a regular date, he’d be wondering how long it would take to get her into bed. But on this show, sex before the end was a “no-no.” So, he’d have to control himself.

  “Do you ever watch football?”

  Her face reddened slightly. “My dad does. I was a cheerleader in high school and went to all the games.”

  “Do you like pro sports?”

  “Not really, to be honest. But maybe that’s because I don’t know much about how it’s played. Maybe you could teach me?” She threw him a glance that was half seductive and half innocent. It threw him.

  He leaned over to kiss her. Little flirt. First, I’ll teach her about the forward pass. When he regained his senses, he drew back and whispered, “I’d be happy to teach you about football. It’s a contact sport, though, so there might be some tackling and passes.”

  She giggled. If she hadn’t been so sexy, her ignorance about football would have been strike one against her.

  “Okay. But I’m starting at square one.”

  “Football is my life. It’s important to me that my future wife share that love. At least some of the time. If you can’t stand to watch it or hear about it, that’s a deal breaker for me.”

  “Oh, no. I completely understand. I’d support my husband completely. And I expect the same from him. You may not know much about acting and modeling, but I’d hope you would listen and encourage me.”

  “I would. Totally.”

  Harley was relieved to get that out of the way. She had passed the first test. Now, all he could think about was taking her to bed, even though he knew that wasn’t in the cards, at least not for weeks. His groin tightened as he stared at her chest. Willing his gaze to settle on her face, he talked a bit about the game.

  “I’m a running back. Do you know what that is?”

  “You run with the ball?”

  “Yep. But there’s a whole lot more to it than that.”

  “Do running backs get hurt?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Oh? Not good.”

  “Nope. All players get hurt sometimes.”

  “I don’t want to watch that.”

  “It’s all part of the sport. You’ll get used to it.”

  The limo stopped at the beach. Harley got out and took Vanessa’s hand.

  “I think we’re supposed to go this way.” He followed the lights, burning brighter in the darkening sky. He sucked in air when he saw the setting. The rich blues, soft candlelight from the hurricanes on the table, and the aroma of something wonderful took his breath away.

  “Oh my God. This is beautiful!” she said.

  “Wow,” was all Harley could voice. He offered her a seat on the makeshift bench covered in soft fleece and handed over a crocheted throw in deep aqua for her legs. Even the jiggle of her breasts as she sat down couldn’t distract him from the scene. Magic was in the air.

  A chef appeared out of nowhere and served the most delectable lobster he’d ever eaten.

  Romance thickened the air, sharpening their sensitivity as the couple sighed over the fine food and crisp, white wine that accompanied the meal. Conversation flowed as they united in their awe of the experience. Harley regaled her with funny stories of his teammates, and Vanessa’s delicate laugh tinkled in the salty, ocean air.

  The magical aura surrounding them emboldened Harley. He kissed her, angling his head to deepen it
. She responded. Delicate whiffs of her perfume enticed him to do it again. The enchantment of the setting surrounded him like a soft, cashmere blanket, warming his spirit. Perhaps Vanessa is the one? Going on the show was not such a bad idea after all.

  Dessert arrived—gigantic strawberries dipped in chocolate and a red felt heart. He noticed Vanessa’s nervous glance at the token that would keep her on the show and a contender to become Harley’s wife. For the first time, tiny beads of sweat gathered on her upper lip. Why make her wait?

  He immediately picked it up and presented it to her. Her smile blended relief with happiness as she accepted. They finished the meal and entered the waiting limo that returned them to the hotel. Under the spell of the romantic evening, Harley kissed Vanessa several times, each one probing deeper. His hand accidently brushed the bottom of her breast. She stiffened. Don’t rush her, asshole.

  He sat back against the plush seat and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. She plucked out a mirror and reapplied her lipstick. He watched her take care to do it right, his gaze roaming over her perfect features and the soft, bare skin of her shoulders. He wanted to touch her, but had been warned by Greg not to go too fast.

  Once back in his room, in bed, fingers laced behind his head, Harley thought about the girl he’d just taken out. Who was she? Would he want to spend the rest of his life with her? How did she stack up against Shyla? He had to stop doing that—comparing girls to Shyla. It wasn’t fair to them. But he had met the gold standard, and it wasn’t going to be easy settling for less.

  Harley had never settled, not in his academic life, his football career, or with women. Sure, he’d been with a lot of females, but when he’d met Shyla, the search had stopped. Now, he had a task ahead—find someone who would be good enough to last him a lifetime. His brow wrinkled. Is it Vanessa?

  Greg Carson’s words echoed in his head, “Don’t rush into anything. You’ve got a lot of ladies to get to know. Don’t fall too fast.”

  Harley grinned. Fall too fast? He hoped he could fall at all.

  Chapter Three