Facing her fears had given her some of the greatest gifts, the most important one this amazing man.
She’d put all her dreams on hold for so long. But now, thanks to Ty, his love, and a lot of courage, all her dreams were coming true.
KEEP READING FOR AN EXCERPT FROM THE NEXT PLAY-BY-PLAY NOVEL BY JACI BURTON
PLAYING TO WIN
AVAILABLE SOON FROM HEAT BOOKS
COLE RILEY HAD BUILT HIS REPUTATION ON BEING tough, especially on the football field. He didn’t yield, and when he had the ball in his hands, there was only one thing on his mind—the end zone. He was hard-headed and single-minded, and he liked to win.
Same thing with women—once he had a target in mind, he went for it until he scored.
So even though this was a target-rich environment, and more than half the sexy women at the party tonight were giving him the once-over, he hadn’t hooked up with anyone in the few hours he’d been here.
Which was unusual for him. He liked the ladies. The ladies liked him. No ego on his part, he just enjoyed women. He loved being around them. They were sweet, fun to be with, they smelled great, and they made him feel good. There was nothing bad about that. In return, he showed them a good time, spent money on them, and never lied to them or tried to be anything other than who he was.
Women liked honest men. His mother would slap him sideways if he ever lied to a woman. He might be a little on the wild side, but he wasn’t dishonest. He never promised a woman anything he wasn’t willing to deliver.
Which meant he steered clear of women looking to hook a husband. He gravitated toward the party girls, like the hot redhead and the statuesque brunette who’d been hovering near his radar all night. Those were the women who wanted to have the same kind of no-strings-attached fun he did.
So why did his focus keep drifting to the cool blonde sitting all by herself at a table in the corner? She wasn’t his type at all. She wasn’t wearing a skin-tight spandex dress that showed off a lot of tits and ass. She wore a simple, short-sleeved dress that went to her knees, though she did have killer legs—legs he’d like to see a lot more of. She just wasn’t showing off her assets.
She was beautiful, sure, with a face that would stop traffic. And the way she was dressed screamed money and high society. Maybe she was related to the team owner. But he hadn’t seen anyone come within ten feet of the table in the past two hours. She was no wallflower, but she wasn’t giving off vibes that said “Come talk to me.”
Wasn’t his problem. He didn’t know her and he intended to have fun tonight. Team parties were always a blast, and media free. He could hang out with his new teammates, down a few drinks, chill with the ladies, and just have a good time.
There were plenty of women here to have the kind of fun he was looking for. The blonde wasn’t the right type. He could tell from the rigid set to her shoulders and the stick-up-her-ass way she sat that she wasn’t a partier. She surveyed the room and gave off definite “keep the fuck away from me” signals, which was likely why no one approached her.
Still, he hated seeing anyone sitting alone. He went up to the bar and nudged Grant Cassidy, the Traders quarterback.
Grant turned, then nodded. “Hey, Riley. What’s up?”
“Do you have any idea who that blonde is sitting by herself over in the corner?”
Grant followed the motion of Cole’s head, then frowned. “No. Who is she?”
“No idea. I figured you know everyone on the team. Is she related to the owner?”
Grant shook his head. “Ted Miller’s daughter is a brunette. And she isn’t here tonight. I have no idea who the blonde is. She looks mean.”
Cole laughed. “That’s what I thought, too.”
He should ignore her and concentrate on the hot brunette or the sexy redhead. But for some reason the lonely blonde in the corner kept grabbing his attention and wouldn’t let go.
Maybe it was because she kept looking at him. Not in the way that other women looked at him—the take-me-home-with-you-tonight look. Her look was different. Cool and assessing, an occasional brief glance and then she’d look away.
He wasn’t a game player. Maybe she was.
This was bullshit. He pushed off the bar and headed her way. She could throw off all the stay-away signals she wanted, but he was curious now. Someone that beautiful was alone for a reason.
He stopped at her table and her gaze lifted, slowly studying him. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown, either.
“You here alone?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.”
Southern accent. It fit her. She was all peaches-and-cream complexion, full lips, and the prettiest eyes…like whiskey.
He slid his hand out. “I’m Cole Riley, wide receiver with the Traders.”
She slipped her hand in his and finally gave him a smile, the kind of smile that made a man glad to be a man.
“Hello, Cole. I’m Savannah Brooks. Won’t you sit down?”
Bingo.