Love at the 20-Yard Line

Chapter One

I need you to take care of this.

Haven Haggarty lifted her gaze from the report in front of her, wondering what could possibly be so important her boss delivered his request to her office in person.

What is it, Mr. Young? Haven hoped he wasn’t sending her out on another assignment. She often worked long, hard hours as one of the top consultants at the brand analysis company Frank Young owned and operated. With close to sixty hours of work already completed that week, she planned to spend the weekend relaxing.

However, with her boss hovering in front of her desk holding an envelope in his hand late on a Friday afternoon, it didn’t bode well for a peaceful start to her weekend.

Tickets. We’re an event sponsor and someone needs to represent us tonight. I forgot about it until a few minutes ago and since you’re still here… Frank Young dropped the envelope on Haven’s desk along with an encouraging glance. He turned and left her office before she could verbalize an objection.

But, sir, I… Haven snapped her mouth shut as she watched him stride back to his office.

She prayed this event wouldn’t turn out like the time he made her go to what they both thought was a networking event and ended up being an exclusive preview for a new adult-only store. To make up for the humiliating debacle, he’d given her an entire month of free evenings and weekends.

Fortified with a deep breath, she opened the envelope and removed four packets of season tickets. Her neck muscles tightened and her stomach clenched with nerves as she read the details.

Football tickets.

Mr. Young expected her to attend an arena football game that would begin in less than two hours. And not just her, he wanted four bodies warming the seats that he’d purchased.

Nearly overcome by the urge to scream in frustration, Haven quickly scanned the letter accompanying the tickets. It appeared Mr. Young was a sponsor for the entire season. She certainly hoped he didn’t expect her to attend every home game.

Haven glanced at her watch and grabbed her phone, calling her oldest brother. Maybe Wes and his wife, Tammy, would go with her. While she waited for someone to answer, she stuffed the report she’d been reading into her bag with a few other projects she planned to review before Monday.

As the phone rang for the fifth time, she gave up and dialed her middle brother.

Please pick up, please pick up, Haven chanted, willing Hale to answer the call.

Hey, sis, what’s up? Hale asked, sounding out of breath. His pounding footsteps confirmed he was on his evening run.

Hale, I need the hugest, biggest favor tonight, Haven said, sounding desperate as she gathered her things and turned off her computer.

I’ve got a date with Abby. What could possibly be more important than that?

Mr. Young gave me four tickets to something tonight and expects me and my guests to be there. He just now gave them to me and I really, really need you to go with me. You can bring Abby. Haven locked her desk and looked around her office to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything.

Where are you going? Hale asked, maintaining a neutral tone. From experience, he knew to ask questions before he consented to accompany Haven to one of her work-required functions. The last time he blindly agreed, he ended up as the only male at an all-women luncheon and fashion show.

A football game. Haven attempted to shove her arm in her coat sleeve, hold the phone to her ear, and not drop the stack of files in her other hand.

You’re kidding, right? It’s February. In case you and your boss aren’t aware of the fact, football season is long gone.

Arena football, dork. Tonight’s the first game.

Name calling won’t help your cause, baby girl.

I’m sorry. It’s just I had plans to… never mind. Haven swallowed another sigh. Can you go or not?

Sure. Sounds like fun. How about if Abby and I meet you there?

Great, I owe you one. Haven gave her brother directions and the game start time. I’ll meet you about twenty minutes before the kickoff.

And you’ll buy us dinner. Hale knew Haven would go along with anything he suggested as long as she didn’t have to attend the game alone.

Fine. She disconnected the call. On her way out the door, she left a stack of paperwork on the receptionist’s desk to file on Monday. She rushed outside, wrapping a scarf around her neck against the cold.

In a hurry, she didn’t take time to let the car warm up before pulling into evening traffic.

Haven swung by the grocery store to pick up a few things on her way home. If she picked up what she’d need for the weekend now, she could spend the entire day Saturday tucked away in her cozy apartment enjoying quiet solitude and a good book.

She raced down the aisles of the store and filled her cart, debating if she should resort to begging her brother Tom to go with her to the game. A year her senior, he seemed to think his mission in life was to torment his younger sister.

Impatiently waiting in the checkout line, she called her brother before she could change her mind and even thanked him when he agreed to go.

But you have to come pick me up, feed me whatever I want to eat, and make sure I get home safely, Tom said, knowing it would annoy Haven to drive out of her way to run by his apartment.

She bit her tongue to keep from telling him she didn’t need him to go after all and forced herself to remain calm. I’ll be there as soon as I run home and change.

Haven left the store and entered the busy after-work traffic. Since it seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace, it took twice as long to drive home as she’d planned. Finally reaching her apartment, she filled her arms with groceries and work projects, managing to get inside and the door closed behind her by nudging it shut with the toe of her shoe.

Quickly putting away any groceries that might spoil before she got home, she left the rest of her purchases on the counter and glanced at the clock on the wall in panic. If she ran out the door and sped to Tom’s apartment, she might get to the game before it started.

High heels sailed through the air as she kicked them off and jammed her feet into a pair of flats she kept by the door. She ran back to her car and made it in record time to Tom’s place. When she pulled into the parking lot, she started to call to let him know he needed to hurry, but he jogged toward her car.

Hey, he said, climbing in and buckling his seatbelt. Thanks for inviting me. You know I love football and totally forgot about the arena games.

You’re welcome. Haven drove toward the arena. You can thank Mr. Young. He demanded I go at the eleventh hour.

Cool. It’s not like you have a life or anything, Tom teased, giving his sister a mischievous look.

Haven speculated, as she had so many times, about the possibility of a secret adoption. Perhaps her parents got the wrong baby at the hospital when they brought her home.

Her mother and all three of her brothers had brown hair with hazel eyes and olive-toned skin. They loved to joke and tease, and she often wondered if they had a serious bone in their bodies.

She, however, was blonde with blue eyes and fair skin that burned if she even thought about going outside. Her dad had blue eyes, but his hair was dark and his skin bore a permanent tan from working outside on their potato farm. Like her brothers, he was big and tall, and a terrible tease.

Wes, Hale, and Tom all looked so much alike, there was no denying the fact they were brothers. If it weren’t for the difference in their ages, they’d probably be mistaken for triplets.

That’s all the world needed, a triple dose of her three ornery brothers. It was going to be bad enough sitting between two of them during the football game.

Haven took a shortcut into the parking lot at the event venue. She found an empty space far from the door and parked the car.

What’s the deal? You can’t even drop me at the door? Tom whined as he got out of the car and waited for Haven to walk around to his side. I think I should get curb service.

No way, lazy bones. You can hoof it. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to walk across this parking lot all by myself, would you? Haven grabbed her brother’s arm when her foot slid on a spot of ice.

Steady there, kiddo. Tom took her hand in his and kept her upright. He shook his head with disapproval at her dress coat, skirt, and ballet flats. What are you wearing?

Work clothes. Didn’t have time to change, Haven said, glad they were almost to the door. She looked up to see Hale waving at them. You know Hale’s current girl of the month, don’t you?

Can’t say that I do. How long has he been dating her? Tom asked, studying the tiny redhead standing next to his brother. The three Haggarty boys all topped six-feet and the petite girl standing next to Hale might make five if she stretched.

I don’t know. A couple weeks, I think. Haven dug in her bag for the tickets and clasped them in her hand as she stepped next to Hale.

Thanks for coming, Hale. You are a lifesaver, Haven whispered as her favorite brother engulfed her in a hug.

Anytime, baby girl. Hale turned to introduce Abby to Tom.

The four of them proceeded inside with Tom and Hale making a beeline for the concession stand selling pizza.

Haven stood with Abby, making small talk, until the guys were ready to order. Tom gave Haven a look that let her know he fully expected her to make good on the promise to buy his dinner. She paid for the food then led the way to their seats close to the twenty-yard line. The location gave them a great view of the playing field.

Why is the field so small? she asked, turning to Hale as he settled into a seat between her and Abby.

It’s arena football. The field is about half the size of a regular football field and they only use eight players instead of eleven, Hale explained, pointing to the end zone nearest their seats.

Haven didn’t really care about the field size, the number of players, or anything else related to football. Her biggest concern was if they would have to stay for the whole game.

A headache began pounded behind her left eye with relentless force. She wanted to go home where she could indulge in some hot chocolate, a good book, and a peaceful weekend alone.

Do they play four quarters, like regular football? Haven looked up at the digital scoreboard, catching a glimpse of her company’s logo as it flashed across the screen.

You bet they do. I heard they have a great halftime show, too. Dancing girls, drummers, and giveaways, Tom said, winking at Haven.

Fantastic. Haven’s mock enthusiasm went unnoticed by her brothers.

Haven removed her coat, tugged down the hem of her skirt, and straightened her sweater before glancing around. She noticed a banner with their company name stretched over the stands on the far end of the arena. Pleased to see Mr. Young’s business well represented, she made a mental note to tell him about it Monday.

She accepted the breadstick Tom held out to her along with a bottle of water, mumbling a word of thanks. Startled, she gasped when the arena lights went off and loud music began pounding over the speakers.

Frantically digging in her bag for some pain reliever, she decided it was going to be a long, long evening.

Chapter Two

Wide receiver Brody Jackson caught a pass and grinned. He spun the ball around in his big hands as he and his teammates warmed up before the first game of the season.

Check out cougar town, dude, he said, inclining his head toward the stands as a group of middle-aged women dressed in too much makeup and not enough clothes sashayed toward their seats.

Ripe for the picking, man. Just your type, Marcus Smith teased, smiling at Brody. The two of them were not only teammates, but also best friends.

Hardly. Brody glanced around the bleacher seats, searching for a girl that would fill the role of his type.

He’d dated blondes, brunettes, and redheads. He’d charmed tall girls, skinny girls, short girls, and voluptuously curved girls. Smart, pretty, sassy, and brainless - he was sure he’d dated just about every type of girl out there, but it was all in fun.

Not one girl had ever reached beyond the surface and touched his heart.

Brody planned to keep it that way.

Women were a distraction he could ill afford in his quest to play football with the pros. Someday his dream of playing at the Super Bowl would come true.

His current gig, playing with a well-respected arena football team, took him a step closer to making his dream a reality.

How about that one? Marcus asked pointing to a tiny redhead taking a seat in the sponsor section.

Hmm. She’s got potential, Brody said, not really interested in the girl. She looked so petite and fragile, he’d be afraid he might break something shaking her hand.

Sure she does. Marcus chuckled, then stopped and pointed to a girl taking off her coat near the redhead. Now, talk about high maintenance, there it is.

Brody glanced at the classy, polished girl who appeared as out of place at the game as he’d be at the symphony.

She wore a sleek black skirt and one of those sweater set things that looked all soft and expensive, even from across the field. Curly golden ringlets escaped from a bun at the back of her head and the glasses framing her eyes gave her a reserved air.

He couldn’t see her hands, but Brody would bet money she had long, fake nails and a gaudy ring on her left hand.

Under the assumption she was probably someone’s trophy wife, he looked away.

You’re such an idiot. Brody shook his head at Marcus. I don’t want any part of that.

Before they could further speculate on the dating material available at that night’s game, the coach motioned them off the field.

Excited as the first game of the season rolled into high gear, Brody played hard, having a great time. He waited for the quarterback to throw him a pass, flexed his long fingers, and took a deep breath.

With one eye on the guy planning to block the pass and the other on the quarterback, Brody grinned when the football spun through the air his direction. Leaping up, the ball went into his hand as if he’d tugged it by a string. He hit the ground running.

Although a tackle was coming, he pushed himself to keep going then absorbed the impact as he hit the turf at the twenty-yard line. Thrilled by the number of yards he covered, he lifted his gaze and looked straight into the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

For a moment, he forgot everything around him as he gazed behind the glasses and saw warmth in the girl’s eyes. She was the girl he and Marcus had joked about being high maintenance before the game started.

At this distance, a sweet innocence about her drew his attention. Something stirred deep within his heart, leaving him breathless.

When a hand clamped on his shoulder, he rolled over, coming up on his feet and tossing the ball to a referee. He smirked as his teammates slapped him on the back and Marcus lightly tapped twice on his helmet. It was their way of saying job well done.

The cheering crowd provided a shot of pure energy surging through Brody, driving him on as his team trounced their opponents.

Determined to keep thoughts of the blonde-haired girl with the soulful eyes from knocking him off his game, he continually found his gaze wandering her direction through the second quarter.

Glad for halftime and the opportunity to regroup, Brody blocked out the people around him and attempted to center his thoughts on winning the game.

Dude, s’up with you? Marcus asked as he bumped shoulders with Brody.

Nothing, man. I’m cool. Brody took a drink from a bottle the water boy handed him. He tipped back his head and closed his eyes, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. A pair of blue eyes immediately filled his vision so he opened his eyes and sat up straighter.

You don’t look cool, bro. Something going on you need to tell ol’ Marcus about? Marcus knew all of Brody’s moods and he could tell his buddy tossed some idea around in his head. They were far ahead of the visiting team and unless something disastrous occurred between now and the end of the fourth quarter, he was confident they’d win the game.

By rights, Brody should be on top of the world and shouting it from the rooftops. Instead, he frowned with worry lines etched across his forehead.

I’m fine, man, but thanks for asking. You better pay attention to Coach and look snappy about it because he’s giving us the evil eye. Brody grinned at the coach and nodded his head, pretending to listen to the direction they received for the last half of the game.

Further conversation ended as they headed back out to the field. While he waited to go out to play, Brody turned his gaze into the stands, trying to steal a glimpse of the mystery girl. She sat in the sponsor seats section, so if he wanted, he could ask the sales manager about her.

That smacked too much of an interest Brody was determined he wouldn’t admit to, though.

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed she sat sandwiched between two hulking guys who looked like twins. One of them tried to shove a mini doughnut dripping with chocolate topping in her face while the other waved a tray of nachos in front of her.

She shook her head and pushed at both of their hands. The one with the doughnut touched it to her mouth, forcing her to take a bite. Brody stood mesmerized as her tongue came out to lick away a drop of chocolate lingering on the corner of her pink lips.

Her glare settled on the guy with the nachos then she laughed at the one with the doughnut. Her face transformed as dimples filled her cheeks and the serious lines softened. She took the doughnut and ate it, licking the sticky frosting from her fingers. Brody had the most insane desire to do the same thing.

Dude, you gonna play or not? Marcus slapped Brody’s shoulder as the coach motioned him onto the field. Quickly grabbing his helmet, he gave himself a mental lecture about blocking out thoughts of the girl and focusing on the game.

Far ahead of the other team as the fourth quarter wound down, Brody stood waiting for the next play, doing his best to ignore the blonde sitting three rows up, two seats over, between the twin terrors. He wanted to beat the stuffing out of the guy who kept bumping her shoulder and trying to get her to share his drink.

When the man placed a hand on her arm and leaned closer to her ear, Brody clenched his fists to keep from climbing up the bleachers and knocking him unconscious.

Now the other one was saying something to her, but she seemed to like him, smiling at him with a look on her face that bordered on adoration. That particular twin turned to the redhead next to him and kissed her cheek.

Brody forcibly returned his attention to the game before he got involved in something that was none of his business. None at all.

He caught a pass seconds before the buzzer signaled the end of the game and ran to the end zone. The crowd went wild when he made the final touchdown.

The team shared a round of high-fives and congratulations. Brody returned to the bench and unearthed a pen, signing his name on the football. He removed his helmet and glanced up to see the girl who captivated his interest trying to put on her coat while one of the twins held the back of it against her seat. She had her arms in the sleeves, trapped by the big dolt.

Without giving it another thought, Brody jumped over the dasher boards surrounding the field. He ran up the steps and looked down at the girl and her friends.

Hey, I thought you might like the ball from the last touchdown. He held it out to the blonde staring at him as if he was speaking in tongues.

Up close, her skin resembled smooth porcelain and her eyes glowed behind the frames of her glasses. Springy curls escaped the messy bun on the back of her head and Brody battled a nearly irresistible urge to reach out and see if the golden strands felt like silk.

She rose to her feet and he experienced a moment of pleasant surprise to see she was considerably taller than the tiny redhead who stood next to one of the look-alike brothers. A whiff of a soft, tantalizing fragrance that raised his temperature several notches assaulted him as he leaned forward.

Brody continued to hold the ball out toward her. She worked her hand out of her coat sleeve and took it in a tentative grasp, offering him a polite smile. Relief washed through him to see no wedding ring adorned her left hand and her nails were, in fact, short and unpainted.

Thank you, Mr. Jackson, she said.

Brody felt inordinately pleased she at least knew his last name. Call me Brody, he said, accepting the hand held out to him by the more obnoxious of the two brothers. The two men definitely bore a strong resemblance to each other, but he could see they weren’t the same age as he originally thought.

Congrats, man, that was a killer game. I’m Tom and this is my brother Hale.

‘Thanks, man." Brody shook hands with the second brother and smiled at the redhead.

There’s a party starting in a while. You’d be welcome to come as my guests, Brody offered, hoping for the chance to spend time with the blonde away from the field. If he had his way, he’d take her home instead of the Neanderthal duo.

Please, Haven? Tom asked, nudging her in the side with his elbow. I promise we won’t stay too late.

Although he hoped she would agree, the longing to punch her boyfriend returned with a vengeance. The guy treated her as if she was an annoying kid sister, not a beautiful woman who, for all appearances, seemed refined and very feminine.

He rolled her name around in his head. It suited her well, although he’d never heard of anyone named Haven.

Prepared to plead with her to go to the party, he looked into her face and could see fatigue around her eyes. He wouldn’t pressure her to go, but he wouldn’t let her leave without learning her full name. If he was so inclined, he wanted to know how to get in touch with her.

What’s your name? Brody mustered up his most charming smile. He’d been told when he used it, women practically fell at his feet, ready to do his bidding.

Haven Haggarty. Haven wondered why this particular player decided to bring her an autographed football and invite them to a party. Maybe it was something each player did for a corporate sponsor.

Despite the dull roaring of her headache, she was vividly aware of the very cute Brody Jackson out on the field. She’d watched him play with interest and noticed him gazing into the stands their direction but had no idea he was remotely aware of her or her brothers. Abby was a dazzling little beauty. Maybe she’d caught his eye.

In his uniform, Brody appeared incredibly tall and sinfully handsome. His jet-black hair was tousled and sweaty, but thick. His chiseled jaw ended with a firm, ridiculously square chin. Sensuously full lips and dark brown eyes added to his appeal, as did his deep voice, laced with a hint of gravel.

The symmetry of his face was perfect for modeling and she wondered if he’d ever considered posing for an ad campaign. She was always in need of good models for their clients.

When he flashed that megawatt smile her direction, Haven found it difficult to swallow, let alone speak. After barely managing to push her name past her lips, she frantically tried to engage her brain. He’d scrambled it with both his presence and that husky voice.

His large hand engulfed hers and an immediate stream of sparks licked up her arm, exploding inside her head.

It’s nice to meet you, Haven Haggarty. Brody attempted to gauge her reaction to him. Other than her eyes growing a little wider, she looked calm, cool, and collected. And ready to go home. Maybe you’ll come to the party another time.

She shifted the football he’d handed her beneath her arm and stared at him, unaware of the look passing between her two brothers.

Maybe next time, Haven finally said, pulling her hand from Brody’s. She’d never seen such long, capable fingers. Hurriedly handing Tom the football, she dug in her bag and pulled out a small case. She removed a business card and handed it to Brody.

If you ever want to consider doing some modeling, I’m always looking for a handsome face like yours. Haven blushed as the words left her lips. She sounded like one of the ditzy flirts who enjoyed the attentions of men like Brody Jackson.

So, you think I’m handsome, Brody teased, waggling expressive eyebrows her direction, noting Haven’s flushed cheeks.

Rather than respond, she finished putting on her coat. She shoved the football into her big bag and pushed against Tom’s side, trying to get him to step into the aisle and go up the steps so they could leave.

Thank you for the ball, Mr. Jackson, and congratulations on your victory. Haven gave him a smile that had lost most of its warmth before turning to follow Tom out of the stands.

Brody glanced at the crisp white card in his hand and smiled. He might not see Miss Haven Haggarty later tonight, but he’d definitely see her again.

Chapter Three

Monday morning, Haven sent Mr. Young a brief email about how well represented the company was at the game Friday night. She was surprised to glance up from her desk that afternoon and see her boss smiling at her from the doorway of her office.

Have fun at the game? Mr. Young asked, stepping into the room and sitting down in a chair across from Haven.

Well, um… I… it, um… My brothers had a great time, sir. Thank you for the tickets. Haven took an envelope from