Calling All the Shots. Katherine Garbera
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pulled her close for a hug, rubbing her back. But she wedged her arms between them. “What are you doing?”
“You looked like you needed a hug,” he said, stepping back and leading her into his apartment. It wasn’t overly luxurious like the apartment they’d photographed him at for Architectural Digest a few months back. He couldn’t live like that. He supposed it was the small-town Texas boy in him but that kind of opulence made him feel out of place.
His loft was an open floor plan with a kitchen at one end and a huge entertainment area on the other. That was one thing he didn’t mind splurging on. There were large comfortable couches as well as a nicely appointed dining area.
“I could use a drink,” Willow said.
“Wine, beer or something stronger?” he asked. He had a fully stocked bar, even though he wasn’t much of a drinker. He didn’t like feeling out of control. He’d learned that after a brief stint of stupidity when he’d been recovering from his knee injury and had had no job prospects.
“What kind of wine do you have?” she asked.
“Just about every kind. I endorse a vineyard and they send me a case of everything they make,” he said with a wry grin.
“That’s right. You’re everyone’s favorite ad man. I like dry white wine,” she said.
“Coming right up. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Do you want to go out on the balcony?” he asked.
“It’s cold outside,” she said.
“I have those patio heaters. You’ll be comfortable,” he said.
She nodded and turned away from him. He watched her walk slowly across his apartment before he started toward the kitchen. She was on edge and didn’t seem to be in the mood to enjoy this evening with him. If he was a different kind of man he’d give up but he was used to overcoming odds and coming out the winner. After all everyone said after his career-ending football injury that he was going to have to go back to Frisco, Texas. But he hadn’t.
He poured them both a glass of wine and headed out to the balcony. It was quiet, thanks to the glass walls that surrounded the patio area, and warm, thanks to his heaters.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry I was so snippy earlier.”
“No problem,” he said. He lifted his glass to hers. “To new beginnings.”
“New beginnings,” she said. “For tonight or since we met?”
Something about what she said made him realize that the past might hold the key to whatever the problem was between them. “For everything. I know I’ve changed since I left Frisco and I’m sure you have, too.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “I still love football and feel guilty if I don’t go to church on Sunday. Though the Baptist church I attend here is nothing like Prestonwood back home.”
He chuckled. No state did religion like Texas. “I know what you mean. My mom is praying for my soul since I’m usually working and don’t get to church as often as I should.”
“Sinner. You’re such a bad boy,” she said, but there was a grin on her face when she said it.
“Haven’t I always been?”
“Yes, you have. Tell me about the new Jack Crown. What haven’t I seen?” she asked.
He started to talk about himself but stopped. He wasn’t sure why but he knew that going on and on about his TV shows and his lifestyle wasn’t the right tack with Willow. “I’m not interested in that. Tell me about you. I remember in high school you wanted to be a writer.”
He saw the momentary surprise in her eyes before she masked it. She turned away from him, took another sip of her wine and then cleared her throat. “That’s right, I did, but once I got to school I realized that I’m more into telling people what to do.”
He grinned as he suspected she wanted him to. But he’d been a star athlete and had lost the ability to play his game so he knew that dreams—especially those that were held since childhood—were hard to let go of. “I’m glad it was easy for you to transition. It wasn’t for me.”
“From football?” she asked. “I saw the game where you were injured and despite everything I felt bad about what happened.”
“What do you mean despite everything?” he asked.
“Just that I wasn’t a Giants fan,” she said.
Again he sensed there was more she wasn’t saying but this was a first date so that made sense. He’d find out what she was hiding from him as time went on.
The timer on his iPod beeped and he stood up. “Dinner’s ready.”
“I think I’ll go wash up,” she said. “Can you direct me to the restroom?”
“To the left of the TV wall,” he said. “I’ll give you a tour after dinner.”
She arched one eyebrow at him. “What else would you show me except your bedroom … the entire apartment is visible?”
“I’ll show you my bedroom,” he said. “But I’ll wait until you ask to see it.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she said.
“Over dinner I want you to explain why you’re so prickly,” he said.
“Just because I’m not swooning at the thought of seeing your bedroom?” she asked.
“Sort of. But you also seem to be almost angry at me and I don’t know why,” he said.
“Oh, I …”
“Not now. Go wash up and while we’re eating you can tell me. I’m very good at fixing things,” he said.
She shook her head. “Not this.”
He watched her walk away again and this time he was just as puzzled by her as the first time. He wanted her, which was why he’d been trying so hard to convince her to go out with him. But now that she was here and he realized how much of herself she kept hidden from the world … well, it just intrigued him more.
He wanted to get to know the whole Willow not just seduce her into his bed. But both objectives were looking harder than he’d thought they’d be.
There was definitely something from their mutual past that he’d done to upset her. But for the life of him he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He rarely thought of those old days now.
He got the dinner his housekeeper had prepared out of the oven and set the table for two. Willow still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom and he wondered why.
He was about to go knock on the door when she was back with a fake bright smile on her face. “Dinner smells good. I had no idea you could cook.”
“I can’t,” he said.
“Another illusion shattered,” she said.
“I never said I could cook,” he said.
“I know. It’s just that you seem like you can do everything,” she said. “All the shows and the easy charm. Life just looks really good for you.”
“It is, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. I have struggles like everyone else.”
He held her chair out and she sat down at the table. “Jack Crown isn’t like everyone else.”
“I was hoping you’d see that. I’m not like any other man you know,” he said. “But I think you meant that in a negative way. So tell me—what did I do to make you so angry?”
She swallowed hard and looked up at him with those big, dark brown eyes of hers. “Nothing. I’ve just been burned in the past by men who seemed too good to be true.”