Be Mine (Jackson Boys 2)

He leans against it. “I don’t think you should hire her.”

I do a double take. “What? Why? I thought you liked her.”

“All she wanted to do was get in my pants. What if she took Cassidy to the park? If she saw someone there she liked, her attention wouldn’t be on Cassidy at all.”

Surprised, I can only blink at him in silence. That’s exactly what I thought, but Nick had been flirting hard with her.

“Are you saying this just so you can date her?”

A line appears on his forehead. “No. Why would you say that?”

“Because you flirted with her the entire time she was here,” I exclaim.

“I was trying to figure her out,” he protests.

“By telling her there must be a million guys in this city who want to marry her? And that you have her number? You were giving off signals like crazy.” It’s obvious he doesn’t want me to hire her because he’s not to the type to mix business with pleasure. If I hire her, he’ll place Dani in the off-limits category. He’s so going to ask her out. Well, we’ll see about that. “Actually, I liked Dani a lot, and I think Cassidy did, too. Charlie wants to meet out tonight, and I think Dani’s the perfect person to babysit her. It’ll be a test run.”

“No way. You can’t do that!” he protests.

“Why?” I stick my chin forward. “What’s wrong with her staying in the condo tonight and watching Cassidy?”

“She’s not nanny material,” Nick insists but shakes his head at me when I don’t back down. “I’m telling you, she’s the wrong person for Cassidy. Mark my words.”

Ha! He just wants to get into Dani’s dress. And for reasons I’m not willing to explore in any detail, I decide that is not going to happen.

Chapter Thirteen

“Fuck!” I curse in frustration as I watch our Pro-Bowl safety snatch another ball out of the air. This interception can’t be blamed on the rookie wide receiver running the wrong route, as was the case with the first interception of the day.

“That was a pick six,” Coach states with a frown “Do I need to remind you that you’re supposed to be throwing the ball to the offense?”

“Is that what I’m supposed to do?” I motion for the assistant on the sidelines to toss me another ball. I palm the leather ball, squeezing it tight, shaping it in my hands. I’ve got big hands. Large enough to palm a basketball, yet this damn football has been sailing out of my hands all morning.

Every time I put a touch on the thing, it’s floating instead of falling into a receiver’s waiting hands. I replay the last throw in my head. Was I gripping the ball too tight? Were the laces on the ball misaligned?

“Rook, you keep throwing me those sweet balls,” the safety yells from his position ten yards down the field. I sigh. Seems like “Rook” is going to be my nickname even though I’m the starter and this is my third year.

I flip him off before settling down behind Darnelle.

“Told you not to ball out your first week of camp. Now everyone’s ’specting you to MVP it every day,” Darnelle admonishes over his shoulder.

“That’s helpful.” I crouch down. “Everyone’s being so goddamned helpful today. Must be why we have training camp.”

“Must be.”

He turns around, and we get into position. I yell out the call, “Blue Forty-Eight, Blue Forty-Eight, Red Hut, Five, Hut HUT.” We go on the third hut. Both lines crash into each other, and I scramble back.

To my left, I see the safety coming in for a blitz. I yell for the fullback to block him and roll to my right. There’s a giant hand in front of me, but just beyond him is my favorite target. John Marshall Plant can catch anything within a six-foot radius. I throw it to him and as it leaves my hand, I know it’s a perfect pass.

The ball flies over Plant’s head by ten yards. Motherfucker!

Coach Zupp drives his clipboard into the grass and gestures for me to come over.

“What the hell is going on with you, son?”

“I’m having a bad day.” My concentration is shit. Lainey’s not listening to me about the nanny. Nate still hasn’t told Charlotte he’s coming to town. I feel on edge about everything.

“If you keep playing like this, we’ll be lucky to win a game in this goddamned division. The Eagles corners are going to eat you alive.”

“We just need to work on our timing on those deep routes.” I give the equipment boy a nod of thanks as I take the Gatorade bottle full of water from him. “We’ll work out the kinks.”

“Y’all played like dried horse turds this past weekend and the regular season is a week away. We don’t have time for you to work out the kinks. It needs to be done now.”