and she'd do it well. Maybe his confession wouldn't ruin his career. After all, he'd just been a high school kid at the time.
But Rachel knew better. Derek would be done with professional football, and so would Tyler. They'd lose their chance to play the game they loved, make Seattle into a winner, and realize their lifelong dream of making the Super Bowl. Yet the guilty party needed to pay, no matter how much it hurt. Her stomach churned at the futility of it all. She'd gotten attached, which had thrust her into a lose-lose situation no matter how she looked at it.
She was getting ahead of herself. First the confession. Then the damage control, which wasn't her problem. Not...really.
She looked up as Derek walked toward her.
"Hi.” He grinned that little-boy grin that sent her heart from Antarctica to the Caribbean in a split second.
"Hi."
"I'm looking for Simon. Have you seen him?"
"He's been hanging out here all day. Can't you keep him in the kennel?” As if on cue, the ever-present canine thief materialized and sat next to Derek, tail thumping and looking too pleased with himself. She wondered what he'd stolen now. From his perch on the porch rail, Charlie arched his back and hissed.
"I put him in every morning, but he gets out. I thought I'd plugged all the holes. He's incredible."
"I hear the circus is looking for dogs like him."
"I can't believe you don't love this dog.” Derek patted Simon's head.
She glared at the furry bandit. He grinned and thumped his tail harder. “You don't know him like I know him."
"To know him is to love him.” His gaze shifted downward to the bandage on her knee. “What happened this time?"
"I tripped. Again.” Rachel tugged on the bottom of her skirt to cover her knees.
Derek raised one eyebrow but didn't pursue that line of conversation. Smart man. He bounded up the porch steps and angled around to look at the laptop screen. “Damn. You're incredible. You've color-coded your to-do lists?” He scanned the details. “This is for me."
"Absolutely. We'll start tomorrow evening with some hand-eye coordination drills."
"I do those all the time."
"You'll be doing more of them."
"Razor talked to you."
"Maybe. Maybe I did my research. Maybe both."
"Damn. I'm impressed."
"Thanks.” She'd always had a talent for quickly and efficiently organizing any task without getting bogged down in minutiae. It was one of her strengths. In college she'd organized his homework assignments and other tasks and saved him countless hours of frustration, not to mention wasted time.
"You should play up your organizational abilities. It's a talent."
"I can't imagine how that'd help me become a scout."
"It plays right into scouting. Don't you think those guys have to keep track of every little detail of every player they're scouting?"
"I guess you're right."
"Everyone has to start somewhere. You don't walk into a job like scouting. Use your talents as your way in. Capitalize on them."
He picked up the book sitting on the porch. Studying it, he turned it over to read the back-cover blurb. “Allie K. Adams, huh? ‘If it doesn't sizzle, it's not hot enough'? Rae, I never would have pegged you as someone who reads this kind of playbook in your spare time.” He assessed her as if he'd never really seen this side of her.
Well, she had to get her kicks somewhere. Allie K. Adams's books made for great company on lonely nights. “It's not my book. It's Cass's. She wants me to read it.” All part of Cass's campaign to change her image. “Ty liked it too."
"Ty? No way in hell. He can't even read."
"You'd be surprised. Some men enjoy romance."
His dark eyes narrowed. “Are you hinting I'm not romantic and Tyler is?” He seemed incredulous.
"I wouldn't know, and it's none of my concern."
He frowned as he considered that. Flipping open the book to a spot in the middle, he read a few paragraphs to himself. His eyes got bigger. His face turned red. He looked up from the book. “Have you
But Rachel knew better. Derek would be done with professional football, and so would Tyler. They'd lose their chance to play the game they loved, make Seattle into a winner, and realize their lifelong dream of making the Super Bowl. Yet the guilty party needed to pay, no matter how much it hurt. Her stomach churned at the futility of it all. She'd gotten attached, which had thrust her into a lose-lose situation no matter how she looked at it.
She was getting ahead of herself. First the confession. Then the damage control, which wasn't her problem. Not...really.
She looked up as Derek walked toward her.
"Hi.” He grinned that little-boy grin that sent her heart from Antarctica to the Caribbean in a split second.
"Hi."
"I'm looking for Simon. Have you seen him?"
"He's been hanging out here all day. Can't you keep him in the kennel?” As if on cue, the ever-present canine thief materialized and sat next to Derek, tail thumping and looking too pleased with himself. She wondered what he'd stolen now. From his perch on the porch rail, Charlie arched his back and hissed.
"I put him in every morning, but he gets out. I thought I'd plugged all the holes. He's incredible."
"I hear the circus is looking for dogs like him."
"I can't believe you don't love this dog.” Derek patted Simon's head.
She glared at the furry bandit. He grinned and thumped his tail harder. “You don't know him like I know him."
"To know him is to love him.” His gaze shifted downward to the bandage on her knee. “What happened this time?"
"I tripped. Again.” Rachel tugged on the bottom of her skirt to cover her knees.
Derek raised one eyebrow but didn't pursue that line of conversation. Smart man. He bounded up the porch steps and angled around to look at the laptop screen. “Damn. You're incredible. You've color-coded your to-do lists?” He scanned the details. “This is for me."
"Absolutely. We'll start tomorrow evening with some hand-eye coordination drills."
"I do those all the time."
"You'll be doing more of them."
"Razor talked to you."
"Maybe. Maybe I did my research. Maybe both."
"Damn. I'm impressed."
"Thanks.” She'd always had a talent for quickly and efficiently organizing any task without getting bogged down in minutiae. It was one of her strengths. In college she'd organized his homework assignments and other tasks and saved him countless hours of frustration, not to mention wasted time.
"You should play up your organizational abilities. It's a talent."
"I can't imagine how that'd help me become a scout."
"It plays right into scouting. Don't you think those guys have to keep track of every little detail of every player they're scouting?"
"I guess you're right."
"Everyone has to start somewhere. You don't walk into a job like scouting. Use your talents as your way in. Capitalize on them."
He picked up the book sitting on the porch. Studying it, he turned it over to read the back-cover blurb. “Allie K. Adams, huh? ‘If it doesn't sizzle, it's not hot enough'? Rae, I never would have pegged you as someone who reads this kind of playbook in your spare time.” He assessed her as if he'd never really seen this side of her.
Well, she had to get her kicks somewhere. Allie K. Adams's books made for great company on lonely nights. “It's not my book. It's Cass's. She wants me to read it.” All part of Cass's campaign to change her image. “Ty liked it too."
"Ty? No way in hell. He can't even read."
"You'd be surprised. Some men enjoy romance."
His dark eyes narrowed. “Are you hinting I'm not romantic and Tyler is?” He seemed incredulous.
"I wouldn't know, and it's none of my concern."
He frowned as he considered that. Flipping open the book to a spot in the middle, he read a few paragraphs to himself. His eyes got bigger. His face turned red. He looked up from the book. “Have you
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