It’s then I get offended. I mean, I’m trying to help him out. Now he’s making it sound like either I’m stalking him because I do know who he is or I’m some child that needs reprimanded. My face heats as I think about him punishing me, bending me over his lap and spanking me...Oh my God, what is wrong with me?
I come back to the conversation at hand. “Fine. I’ll give you a recipe. I mean if you really are feeding some kid that just finished chemo, I can walk you through it.”
“Me cook? I can’t even boil water without setting off the fire alarm. And I want you to come... I mean help me out. I would hate to disappoint the kid.”
I eye him critically. “Is this like your thing? Am I being pranked or something? Is this a joke?”
He opens his phone, types in something, and then hands it to me. I’m expecting to see him in football pants holding a trophy or something like that, and damn if I don’t ready myself for that image but instead I’m looking at him surrounded by a bunch of children. There’s a headline and article talking about how much his sponsorship has meant to the children. I only get a few lines in. “I’m in. Just tell me a menu and where I need to be.”
He shakes his head. “Just like that?”
I nod, not wanting to offer any more explanation.
Chapter2
Josh
My phone dings again, and at this point I want to throw it on the ground and stomp on it. I know it’s my reminder that I’m supposed to be at the field for practice, but I don’t want to leave yet. I want to keep talking to Violet. Who am I kidding? I want to do a lot more than talk to Violet.
I noticed her when I pulled in and she walked by my car. She’s got curves in her petite little body, and when she reached around me into the refrigerated coolers for a water, it took everything in me not to throw her over my shoulder and take her home with me. She has a body made for sin and a face that I could look at all day every day and never want to look away. The fact that she’s agreeing to come and cook the dinner is insane to me, but I’m not going to turn her down. I don’t care if she burns the food at this point; I want her any way I can get her.
“It’s for a ten-year-old little boy. I mean, it’s like chicken nuggets, some kind of mac and cheese, he mentioned some kind of apple cake that the hospital treated them with and I’m still trying to track down a recipe, but I have to be at practice five minutes ago.”
She’s nodding, taking it all in. “I can handle it. I graduated top of my class in culinary school, and I’m pretty sure I know the cake he’s talking about. I got it. I just need an address.”
I reach into my car and come back out with a piece of paper. I write my address down and hand it to her. “They are supposed to be there at 6 pm.” I pull a key off my key chain and hand it to her. “This will get you inside. I wrote down the alarm code. Oh, and here.” I reach into my wallet and pull out the black American Express card. “Here you go. Get whatever you need with that.”
She holds her hands up. “That’s okay. I’ll just get it.”
But I grab her hand and force her to take it. I don’t know why it’s so important to me. Maybe because I’m worried she’s going to back out, and if she has my card, at least she’ll have something of mine that I need to track down. “You’re not paying for it. Take my card.” I hold it out to her until she takes it, and I let out a sigh of relief.
My phone rings, and when I look at it, seeing it’s my coach, I know I have to answer it. “Hey, Coach.”
Violet turns to leave, but I reach out and grab her hand to stop her. I walk with her to her car as I talk to my coach. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten.”
I click the phone off just as she reaches for door. Reluctantly, I let her go, and she gets in. “So I’ll see you later?”
She smiles up at me. “Yes. I’ll be there. Dinner will be ready by six. Don’t worry. I got this.”
But I am worried. Not about the dinner or any of that. I’m worried that I’m going to let her drive away and I’m never going to see her again. How she can be under my skin that fast is beyond me, but I know I want to get to know her better.
I start to shut the door. “Oh, I’ll pay you for your time and services too.” I take my wallet from my front pocket and pull out the cash. It’s five one hundred dollar bills, and I hand them over to her.
She shoves my hand away. “Hold on to your money. We’ll discuss it later.”
I pocket the money and say to her again, “All right, so I’ll see you later?”
“I promise. It’s going to be perfect,” she replies.
I shut the door and watch as she pulls away. My phone dings again, and this time I ignore it and go over to my own car before pulling out and rushing to the stadium. I should have gotten her number. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight, but it’s too late now.
All I can do now is hope and pray that she shows up and I get to see her again. I want her. Seeing her, touching her was like a kick to the gut, and I know I need to see her again.
I get to the stadium, and even though I’m already late, I pull up my alarm app on my phone and check it. She hasn’t had time to get there yet, but that doesn’t stop me from looking at the camera function just in case she’s already sitting in my driveaway. I turn notifications on so that as soon as someone pulls in it notifies me. Coach is just going to have to deal today. I’m bringing my phone to practice.
It seems like hours go by before my phone vibrates in my waistband pocket. I keep running and finish the drill before I walk to the sidelines with my phone out. The app opens, and immediately I see her. She’s walking cautiously up the walkway as she looks all around. She’s got her arms full of grocery bags, and my heart starts to pound knowing that she’s going to be in my house, in my kitchen, preparing my food. I’ve never been one for that type of thing, but fuck if it doesn’t make my heart pound in my chest. I haven’t even tasted one morsel of her cooking, but I know I’d eat it every day if it meant I would get to come home to her.
“Chambers. You too good to practice? Get it together.” The coach is yelling as he jogs across the field. When he stops next to me, I’m still staring down at my phone. I’ve moved to the indoor cameras, watching her in my kitchen. She’s smiling, and I swear she looks like she’s singing. Coach looks over my shoulder. “Well, fuck. Is that your house? Here it goes. I’m telling you, Chambers, this better not get in our way. We have games coming up, and I need your head on straight.”