Though he’d rather be doing something else with her.
He knocked at the door and she answered, dressed in tight black pants and a black-and-white-striped top that hugged her breasts and did all kinds of things to his imagination, none of them good nor professional. How was he supposed to keep his distance when she dressed in clothes like that?
“Good morning, Cole. Come in.” She looked friendly enough, but he noticed she was wearing her professional mask again.
“Thanks.”
Her dining room table was packed with food. A lot of food. He turned to her. “Are there other people here?”
She shook her head. “It’s for both of us. I thought you might want to eat after your workout.”
“Thanks.” He wandered around the table, wondering if she cooked to fill the void left by lack of sex. But no way was he going to mention that. He was already trying to forget last night. Unfortunately, his hand up Savannah’s dress was a hard memory to ignore.
He filled his plate with sandwiches and salad.
“Iced tea?” she asked from the doorway to her kitchen.
“That’d be great.”
“Have a seat in the living room. Make yourself at home.”
When he set his plate down, he noticed she’d had the television on. She must have been watching something, because it was paused. And it was his face on the screen.
“What are you watching?”
“Game films from last season.”
He looked at her as she brought the drinks in. “Why?”
“Research.” She grabbed her plate, then picked up the remote. “Do you mind if I continue?”
He shrugged. “Go ahead. Always happy to see myself on television.”
She pressed the button.
It was the playoff game last season between Green Bay and New Orleans. They’d won that game. He’d played well. The play she was watching was a key third down and seven. Keller, Green Bay’s quarterback, was lined up in the shotgun. Cole was set up on the left, the other receiver on the right.
At the snap, Cole took off, sprinting past the cornerback to run his route. He dug his cleats into the turf and headed downfield, only to cut to the center of the field, leaving the defensive back scrambling to catch up. He turned and waited the fraction of a second it had taken for the pass that had come sailing his way.
It had been perfect. The ball landed in his hands and he’d been off to the races, outrunning the safety for thirty-five yards all the way to the end zone. The game had been in New Orleans, and the touchdown had put Green Bay ahead and had silenced the crowd.
Savannah pressed pause on the video. “It was a good play.”
Cole nodded. “It was a great play. Too bad Minnesota kicked our asses in the next game, ending our Super Bowl hopes.”
She ate and they watched more film, highlights of his season. After they finished eating, she grabbed their plates and put them in the sink, then came back with refilled glasses.
“You had a great season last year.”
He stretched his legs out. “Yeah.”
“In that game against New Orleans you caught nine passes for over two hundred yards. Last season you had over twelve hundred yards for the year. You were Green Bay’s top receiver and were never out with an injury.”
“Right. So what’s your point?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “A player with your qualifications, with the kind of season you had, and they traded you anyway. Why?”
He planted his feet on the floor and cocked his head toward her. “Number one, I was too expensive. Number two, they’d drafted some guy out of Stanford who’d been a Heisman candidate. Younger, quick feet, great hands, a stellar future player. The team was hyped about this kid.”
“You’re talking about Cale Lefton.”
“Yeah.”
She stood, stretched her back, and folded her arms. “What you aren’t saying is that the major difference between you and Lefton is that he’s a lot less trouble on and off the field.”
Cole shrugged. “He got plenty of media attention.”
“Of course he did. The media was all over him, but in the right ways. He was an All American, a recipient of the Biletnikoff Award, plus the Campbell Trophy for the top scholar-athlete.”
“Uh-huh. He probably walks on water and raises the dead, too.”
Savannah laughed. “I doubt that, but he does have a few things you don’t, and the number one thing he does have is a positive image. A player like that—someone who not only plays well, but presents well—can do a lot for a team.”
“He’s young. Give him time.”
“Not every player will damage his image like you’ve done.”
“Well aren’t you all sweetness and light today?” If anyone needed to get laid and lighten up, it was Savannah. It would improve her mood.