Page 17 of Final Drive

Page List


Font:  

“I sleep nude,” he replied after spitting out his toothpaste.

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll let you…”

Before I could leave, he stripped off his shirt, then his jeans. He had a perfect V-shaped torso, painted with lines of delicious muscle.He looks like a freaking action figure. His gray boxers clung to him like a second skin, leavingnothingto the imagination. Luke grabbed the elastic and began to yank them down, so I spun around before I could see anything. Now both my cheeks were burning. But there was a mirror on the wall I was facing, and I caught a sliver of his nude shape as he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. Finally, I turned around.

“If you need anything, I’m in the room next door,” I told him as I left.

By the time Luke woke up the next morning, I had already been awake for several hours. “Morning, champ,” I said, grabbing a spare mug and pouring him some coffee. “How you feeling today?”

“Better, I think. Last night was kind of a daze. I don’t remember coming back from Vegas.”

“You were in shock. That’s normal.” I handed him the mug. “I know football players aren’t really known for being in touch with their emotional sides, but you might want to talk to a therapist about what happened. Narrowly avoiding a knife stab tends to fuck you up.”

He put down the mug and reached out to touch my cheek. His fingertips were strangely tender for such a big guy. “I don’t remember how this happened.”

“The attacker punched me. That’s the only reason the asshole got away.”

Luke winced. “Caz, I didn’t get a chance to say this last night. If you weren’t there, I would have been stabbed. My career might have ended last night if not for you. What I’m trying to say is thanks. I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

I shrugged. “That’s why I’m here. To protect you. And along those lines, I talked to the Stallions GM about an hour ago. He wants to extend my contract.”

Luke immediately nodded. “Good. I’d like that. At least, until we figure out who is trying to ruin my career.”

Relief poured into me. For some reason, I had been expecting him to push back against me continuing to be his bodyguard.Because I failed. I didn’t catch the guy. He would be right to want someone else.

Luke stood there for a moment, then pulled me into an awkward hug. The kind of hug you gave someone you barely knew, and were trying to keep as little of your bodies from touching as possible. I returned the embrace for a moment, then pulled away.

“Career,” I said slowly. “You didn’t say the attacker tried to end your life. You said he tried to end your career. What do you mean by that?”

“He wasn’t stabbing me in the torso,” Luke explained. “I’ve replayed the attack in my head a hundred times, and I’m positive about one thing. He was aiming for my thigh. Just like in the parking garage, when he tried to break my arm. Whoever is doing this doesn’t want to kill me. They just want to keep me from playing. I’m certain of it, now.”

I nodded. “That’s good information for you to puzzle out, because a detective is coming by to discuss it in an hour. And he’s going to have a lot of questions.”

The police detective took my statement, then Luke’s. “Might be related to racketeering,” he said with a shrug. “Mob guys trying to affect game outcomes for gambling purposes.”

“Then why stab himafterthe game?” I asked. “If I was trying to swing the game against the Stallions, I would attack him right before the game, when the betting lines were established.”

The detective shrugged. “We’re doing a lot of speculating right now. Thanks for your statements. We’ll let you know if we receive any pertinent information.”

I accompanied Luke to practice for the next few days. Now that the shock of the attack had worn off, he seemed to be coping with everything well. At least, he put on a good face when he was around his teammates. Most of them were supportive, aside from some playful teasing and joking.

“My boy is a secret Russian spy,” Double-D said as they entered the workout room one day. “That’s why there’s a hit out on him.”

“Why would the Russians spy on our football team?” Steve Cooper replied doubtfully.

“Duh. Because Dallas has been charged with protecting the nuclear codes. You see, the CIA uses civilians to hide our country’s biggest secrets in plain sight. I watched a YouTube video explaining how…”

“You’re not a Russian spy, right?” Cooper asked Luke.

Luke shrugged, and then in his best Russian accent said, “Da, comrade. I am regular American Joe, who loves pies made of apples and craft beers.”

I laughed and hopped off my treadmill. Kincaid immediately jogged over to me and said, “You don’t have to leave, Frank Farmer. You can use the equipment as long as you want.”

I froze while grabbing my towel. “Frank Farmer?”

“Kevin Costner’s character? InThe Bodyguard?The movie with Whitney Houston?”

“Never seen it.”


Tags: K.T. Quinn Romance