Part 18 (1/2)

Shay was too stunned to speak. Politeness apparently took over because she didn't realize she'd said thank you until Penny responded.

”Oh no, Shay, thank you. A happy Brody Janik is a productive Brody Janik and Blaze fans everywhere are grateful to you.”

Somehow Shay made it out to her car with the shopping bag dangling off her finger. The blood was roaring through her ears. Brody's lackl.u.s.ter performance on the field-and in the bedroom-was not her fault. Revving her car's engine, she decided it was time he face the music.

Nineteen.

The rain was coming down at a steady clip again. Brody had swung by Shannon's apartment, but she was still AWOL. Even Maddox and Jackie were out. The whole situation was getting ridiculous. She'd been in the practice facility earlier, but she'd dashed out before he could talk to her. His next step was to track her down at Bridgett's hotel, but first he needed to change out of his practice clothes and eat his prepared dinner on schedule.

Pulling his Range Rover around back of his house and into the garage, he spied a car on the parking pad. Unfortunately, it wasn't the one he was hoping for: It was Connelly's. Brody wasn't in the mood for another lecture on his performance tonight. He'd had enough from his coaches to last a lifetime.

Stomping through the mudroom, he looked around for Will, who was likely lying in ambush. A Kenny Chesney tune played on the sound system in the great room and Brody walked around the high-back recliner to see his teammate stretched out in the chair, his eyes closed.

”Comfortable?” Brody rifled through his mail.

”I'd be more comfortable at home in my own bed, but Owen is teething and no one's getting any sleep at my loft.”

”I'd ask how you got in, but Julianne must have given you her key.”

One of the slumbering giant's eyelids lifted to half-staff. ”Remind me again why my wife has a key to your house and I haven't kicked your a.s.s for it?”

”It's only a matter of time before she gets tired of you,” Brody called from the kitchen, where he checked to see if his dinner was in the fridge.

”h.e.l.l, maybe I'll just kick your a.s.s right now.”

But Connelly remained where he was, his eyes shut in repose and his body relaxed in the chair. Brody walked over to the stone hearth, his hands tucked in his pockets. He didn't have time to deal with Will Connelly right now. He needed to find Shannon.

”What do you want, Will?”

”Besides a good night's sleep?” He finally opened both eyes. ”I came here to find out if you're really okay.”

”Perfectly fine. Now get out.”

Connelly didn't budge. ”Brody, do you have a substance abuse problem? Something that needs professional attention?”

”h.e.l.l, no!”

Connelly heaved a sigh. ”So is it just what the guys are saying, that you need to get laid?”

Brody flipped him off.

”Because they wanted me to pick up some pink fuzzy handcuffs for you. I'm not stepping a foot in one of those stores, but I'm sure Julianne would. For you, anyway. That would require another a.s.s-kicking on my part, though.”

”Everybody just needs to mind their own freakin' business.”

”That's just it, Brody, you're part of a team. When you're hurting, we all feel it.”

Brody blew out a breath in disbelief. ”I'm not hurting!”

Connelly grunted. ”Says you. It's not like you to get so messed up about a woman. Maybe this one means a little more to you than the others?”

”Sorry to disappoint, Dr. Phil, but my love life has nothing to do with my game. Football is my number one priority in life.”

”That's what I used to say until my whole worldview was knocked off its axis six months ago. I used to think that I could do this alone-football, my charity work, life, everything. I'll admit I was a bit slow to realize it, but it's nice to have someone to share this ride with. Thanks to a little push from you, I saw the big picture before it was too late.”

Brody was getting anxious for Will to leave. He didn't want to hear his teammate's declarations of love for his wife. Connelly was way off base anyway. Brody wasn't looking for someone to share his life with. Not yet anyway. Right now, he was looking for one sa.s.sy Texan to share the night with. Once he'd done that, he could get back to the bigger issue of playing football and his contract extension.

”Well consider the favor returned. You've said your piece, now get your a.s.s out of my chair.”

The big lug remained where he was. ”Come on, Brody. Something's really bugging you. Jeez, even Roscoe is worried and he's got a heart of stone.”

Brody opened his mouth to tell his teammate where both he and their agent could go, but the sound of the door slamming at the front of the house distracted him. Like an angry bull charging a matador, Shannon burst into the great room, shedding her jacket as she went. Her whiskey eyes were mere slits in her face as she stormed across the room toward him.

”I am so done with this, Brody!”

”Shannon-”

She swatted him with a white shopping bag she had clutched in her hand. ”Don't you dare try to use your stupid charm on me. I swear, Brody, I've had it with people thinking it's my fault that you can't . . . perform!” She put extra emphasis on the last word making it clear that she was talking about more than just football.

”Whoa,” Brody said uneasily, holding up his hands. He really didn't want to have this conversation with Connelly ten feet away. ”No one's blaming you, sweetheart.”

She smacked his hands with the bag again. ”Of course they are! Do you know what I've had to endure today? Do you?”

He started to tell her he didn't, but she wouldn't let him get a word in.

”I spent part of my day scanning the s.e.x toys catalog with your teammates looking for anything that might turn you on! Do you have any idea how embarra.s.sing that was?”

His gut clenched at the pain in her voice. Anger coursed through him at his teammates-and at himself-for putting her through this. Stepping closer, he tried to pull her into his arms, but she batted him away again.

”No! I'm not finished.” Her voice was on the verge of hysteria and Brody figured it was best to listen quietly. If he had to kill Connelly to keep him from repeating any of this, so be it.

”This afternoon I got to take relations.h.i.+p advice from a fifteen-year-old who just wants me to let you have your way.”

Brody cringed at the look of anguish on Shannon's face.

”Then,” she waved the bag in front of his face. ”This! Do you know what's in here, Brody?”

Sheepishly, he shook his head.

Pulling a sc.r.a.p of red lace out, she flung the empty bag across the room. ”These, Brody!”

She waved the lacy thong in front of his face and Brody was momentarily distracted, thinking about how d.a.m.n good those panties would look at the apex of Shannon's long legs. He sucked in a breath.

”That's right, Brody. According to the coach's housekeeper, I need to wear these to add a little spice to our relations.h.i.+p. That way, you'll play better and Blaze fans everywhere will rejoice.” She gulped to cover what might have been a sob, making Brody feel like s.h.i.+t.