Part 5 (1/2)
She rolled her eyes as her brain geared up for the challenge. ”Corn is like pure sugar, a simple carbohydrate, actually, and something you need to avoid.”
Brody sighed in annoyance. ”We'll take it one step at a time. Just e-mail my a.s.sistant with a list of the groceries you need and she'll have them delivered.” He handed her a business card for a Gwen Olsen. ”Now, give me your phone.”
”Why?”
”So I can call you when I get hungry.” He s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from her hand, presumably entering his number on her keypad. The phone in his pants pocket rang and he handed hers back to her. ”The contract prohibits you from distributing my number also, in case you get any ideas.” He handed her a pen. ”Do we have a deal?”
”Do I have a choice?”
A flicker of something pa.s.sed over his face, but it was gone before Shay could identify it. ”No. Neither one of us does.”
Shay took the pen and signed the form with less reluctance than she should have felt.
”You can start tonight, so tell your neighbor you're not available to babysit.”
Maddox's mother, Jackie, worked weekends mostly, when her mother-in-law could come up to watch her kids. Shay and Mrs. Elder were only backups, but he didn't need to know that. ”I don't get finished here until two thirty. Then I have my seniors for water aerobics at three thirty. That doesn't leave me time to get a grocery list to your a.s.sistant and have the food delivered.”
”Excuses already?” But he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed her a fifty. ”Is that enough to get you started?”
Shay nodded.
”I'll have a taxi pick you up because you are not riding your bike the ten miles to my house.”
”I have a car.” She tried not to grin at the look of surprise on his face.
”Fine. I put the address in your phone. The guard at the gate will be expecting you.”
Taking the contract back, he folded it up, before gesturing for her to precede him out the door. Shay hesitated, her hand on the doork.n.o.b, as she looked over her shoulder at Brody. ”You can trust me, Brody. But can I trust you not to sabotage my degree? Or my mama's livelihood?”
He looked truly affronted by her question. ”This is just insurance. To keep you from spilling my secrets. As long as you don't go shooting your mouth off, you'll be okay.”
Which meant she had to find the team snitch before he or she did spill more of Brody's secrets.
Shay left the storeroom, Brody on her heels, both of them nearly colliding with the Blaze head coach who was leaning, nonchalantly, against the doorframe.
”h.e.l.lo, kids,” Matt Richardson said, a knowing grin on his face.
She felt Brody inhale sharply behind her before he stepped out to stand next to her.
”There's quite a lot of chatter going on back there about you two.” The coach eyed Brody.
”It's none of their business.” Brody's body was rigid with tension beside her, but his face sported that aw-shucks smile he used as a s.h.i.+eld.
Shay's stomach did a flip-flop. The contract she'd just signed wouldn't matter if the team dismissed her. h.e.l.l's bells. All her work may have been for nothing.
”Normally, this is when I give the speech about not wanting my players to be distracted by anything or anyone. But right now, this lady”-he nodded toward Shay-”is more important to the team.”
If Shay wasn't so mortified by the coach's incorrect a.s.sumption of what they were doing in the storeroom, she might have laughed at the complete look of bafflement on Brody's face. As she'd already discovered, he wasn't used to not being the center of the universe.
Coach Richardson's gaze softened as he s.h.i.+fted it to Shay. ”I'd have a mutiny on my hands if the players didn't get those shakes you make every day. And my daughter would kill me, too. She got an A-minus on her chemistry quiz and is demanding I hire you as a tutor.”
A proud smile broke out on Shay's face. ”I'd love to. She's a sweet girl. Smart, too.”
Brody draped an arm over her shoulders. ”Well, Coach, Shannon's a pretty busy girl, what with studying and her work here. Did you know she also teaches water aerobics? I'm not sure she has an extra minute in her day for anything else.”
Shay knew exactly what Brody was up to; he wanted her to be available anytime he hollered. But, by eliminating the need to collect data from the swimmers, he'd inadvertently just given her back an hour and a half to her day. She'd have plenty of free time to tutor Emma.
”Don't be silly. I can work with her here in the commissary one or two days a week. Or, I can come to your home on the weekends. Just let me know.”
Relief spread over the coach's face. ”Great. My wife will bring her by tomorrow after school. Just let her know how much you charge.” He glanced back at Brody. ”Practice is in ten minutes, Janik. And remember, don't do a thing to make this woman unhappy or you'll answer to me.”
Brody turned to her, his eyes smoldering-with what, she wasn't exactly sure. ”Oh, that shouldn't be a problem, Coach,” he said, the smile on his face as fake as the pearls her mama wore to Junior League. Before she knew what he was up to, he leaned over to place an openmouthed kiss on the sensitive skin just below her ear. His breath was warm as he lingered a moment before whispering just loud enough for the coach to overhear, ”I'll see you tonight.”
Shay didn't bother answering. She couldn't. After that kiss, she was too busy reaching a hand out for the wall, trying to keep her body from melting into a puddle on the floor.
Seven.
Shay shouldn't have been shocked by Brody's house, but she was. It wasn't at all what she'd imagined. Not that she was expecting a stripper pole in the living room, but she wasn't prepared for the bachelor athlete's house to be so-homey. Comfortable oversized furniture took up most of the great room. Books and magazines-surprisingly suitable for both men and women-were spread out on the oak coffee table next to a well-used backgammon set. Most startling of all was the basket of toys in the corner of the room.
”Somehow, I figured there'd be more TVs and gaming systems decorating your place, as well as . . . other things.” Embarra.s.sed by the path her thoughts were taking, she turned away, opening the wide double doors of the Sub-Zero refrigerator in the roomy kitchen.
Casually dressed in a pair of well-fitting jeans and a designer T-s.h.i.+rt, Brody leaned a hip against the granite counter, watching intently as she inspected the contents of the vegetable bin. ”Sorry to disappoint, but my mom isn't a big fan of all that c.r.a.p. There's a TV downstairs in the man cave if there's something you just have to watch.”
Shay jerked her gaze back to Brody. ”You didn't tell me you live with your mother?”
He had the audacity to laugh. ”I don't. But she and the rest of my family visit often.”
”How often?”
”I don't know. One of them is here at least once a week. Does it matter?” His lips curved into that dangerous smile. ”I'm more curious about the other things you pictured in my house. What were you thinking of, Texas?”
She let out an exasperated sigh, ignoring his second question. ”It does matter, Brody, if you eat what they're eating. I'm putting you on a strict diet here; one you can't veer off of if you want to keep your blood sugar level.”
Brody scoffed at her. ”My mom's a diabetic. I can have what she has.”
”Oh and that's been really successful so far.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. ”Look, Brody, just because your mama has diabetes doesn't mean you're going to get it. Even if you do, you burn twice, maybe three times as much glucose as she does just by virtue of the fact you're a professional athlete. You can't control your blood sugar the way she does. But your low blood sugar may be caused by something else. Didn't your doctor mention a thing called reactive hypoglycemia?”
His smile long gone, he remained silent, which Shay took as a no.
”You have been to a doctor for this?” She was a little afraid of what his answer might be.
”Of course,” he replied, his tone indignant. ”My cousin keeps an eye on my blood sugar.”
”And your cousin is a medical doctor, right?”