She followed him down the hall and into one of the bedrooms—she counted three. The master was huge, with a king-size bed, two dressers, and an enviable closet. This place might have more square footage than her house.
The bed had a light brown comforter and about nine pillows, which made her want to dive in and make herself at home.
“I’ll just lay this stuff on the bed. You can change before we go out.”
“That’ll be fine. Thanks.”
He led her into the living room, then turned. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sparkling water if you have it. If not, plain water is fine.”
“Sparkling it is.”
She took a seat on the sofa. “You keep your bar well stocked?”
“Yeah. For all those wild parties I throw.”
She cocked a brow, trying to determine if he was serious or not. “Seems to me you do plenty of public partying.”
He brought her the glass. “I don’t throw wild parties here. The last thing I want is to have a bunch of people at my place trashing it.”
“So you were joking.”
He sat on the loveseat across from the sofa. “You need to work on your sense of humor, Savannah.”
She bristled. “I have a sense of humor.”
“Do you?” He smiled behind his glass.
She decided at that moment that he was mean and she’d no longer have fantasies about him. She was cured.
“So, now what do you do with the rest of your day?”
“Since it’s before the season starts, I might play some video games until it’s time to go out.”
She grabbed her phone. “Too early to go out. So you’ll just hang out and play games?”
He reached over and took a binder from the coffee table. “No. Since I’m with a new team this year I have to learn the playbook. I need to study.”
She gave him a critical look. “Really.”
“Yeah, really. You don’t walk onto the field knowing every play. But if you’d rather play some games…”
“No, by all means. Do whatever it is you do. I have work of my own to do. I won’t get in your way.”
He opened the binder and started reading. She got out her phone and checked her email. After answering several, she pulled out her laptop, typed up some reports and made a few notes. She looked up occasionally to find Cole’s brows furrowed in concentration. He didn’t deviate as he went over page after page of the playbook. Not once, but three times.
She gave him credit for being thorough.
“How long does it take to learn the playbook?” she asked.
He didn’t look up at her. “A while. I need to know every play.”
“And there are a lot.”
He finally glanced up at her. “Yeah.”
She laid her work down next to her. “You work hard at your job.”
“Yes.”
“You want to be appreciated for what you do.”
“On the field. Not off.”
“Then why is so much attention paid to what you do off the field?”
He laid the book down and focused on her. “Wish I knew the answer to that.”
Interesting. She sensed the frustration in his voice. Maybe there was more to Cole than she thought. But that remained to be seen. They were only in the beginning stages. He was charming, no doubt. Polite enough, but he obviously had serious issues with his temper. She’d glimpsed that earlier, and she barely knew him.
But she knew enough that she wanted to know more. For the time being, she left him alone so he could do his work. She dug into her briefcase and did her own, and a few hours passed before Cole rose and told her it was time to get dressed.
“I figured we’d get something to eat before we went out. It could be a long night.”
He gave her use of his bedroom to change and freshen up her makeup, grabbing his clothes to change in one of the other rooms.
When she came out, he was waiting for her in the living room. Her breath caught. Dressed in black slacks and a black button-down shirt, he looked sexy. Compelling. And utterly dangerous to her already fragile libido.
He smiled at her. “You look sexy, Peaches.”
She couldn’t help the tingle at the nickname. “You should call me Savannah. I’m not your date or your girlfriend.”
“It annoys you.”
“It doesn’t annoy me. It’s just unprofessional.”
“Okay. Savannah. Or should I refer to you as Ms. Brooks? Or Miss Brooks? Or is it Mrs. Brooks?”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re being annoying.”
He laughed. “Let’s roll, Sa-van-nah.”
He’d enunciated every syllable of her name. Slowly. She might prefer the nickname after all.
They went outside and Cole led her to his Lexus. Mid-range, not the cheapest, but not top-of-the-line, either.
“This car is nice,” she said after he climbed inside. “But for some reason I expected you to be driving…I don’t know. A Lamborghini or Ferrari.”
He laughed as he put the car in gear and drove away. “I don’t piss away my money on frivolous shit like cars. I’m on the road half the year anyway, so what’s the point in having an expensive car I don’t have time to drive?”