I’m just not into women in hairnets.”
• • •
Shay took a giant step back, whipping the stupid hairnet off her head, trying to smash down her wild hair. Of course he wasn’t attracted to her. He was just toying with her, to get her to do . . . what exactly? Certainly not sleep with her. Although she’d lied when she said she wouldn’t sleep with him. Worse, he knew it. Because, honestly, what women wouldn’t sleep with Brody Janik? She really, really needed to master thinking before speaking.
Brody leaned a shoulder against the metal shelf, his lazy smile making her uneasy. She was cloistered in a storeroom with
People
magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive and she needed to get out of there before she said—or did—something else foolish.
“Can we just get this breakup over with here?” She crushed the hairnet in her fist.
He arched an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.
Shay heaved a sigh. “Look, we can’t very well deny we were kissing—it’s all over the Internet. I have no problem with you telling everyone you were drunk or confused and didn’t know what you were doing. As long as I’m left alone to finish out my internship.”
Brody’s expression remained bland. “No.”
“No?” Shay was exasperated now. “Fine. I’ll dump you. I’ll tell everyone you were a dud, proving my point about all football players.”
He bristled at that. “Not gonna happen, either.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous, Brody. We’re arguing over something that isn’t even true. Just tell everyone the whole thing was a joke or something and let it go at that.” She made for the door, but he grabbed hold of her wrist.
“We’re not breaking up,” he said evenly.
“There’s nothing to break up! We’re not a couple.”
“No, but we’re going to use this little farce as a cover.”
A shiver passed through her body. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by fear or something else. “A cover? For what?”
“You know something that I don’t want other people to know. I don’t trust you with that secret. As it happens, I’m in need of a personal chef with experience in nutrition. Someone who can help me control my blood sugar.” He nodded at her. “It’s really a win-win situation. For me at least.”
Shay tried to process what he was saying. He’d keep her secret about being in the locker room if she’d keep his. In return, she had to prepare his meals for him. It seemed like a straightforward plan. Except for the part about being around him. That might not be so straightforward given how her body reacted every time he was near.
“You won’t trust that I’ll keep your secret, but you will trust me in your home? A place where I’ll have access to lots of your other secrets?”
“One step ahead of you, Texas.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “I took the liberty of having my agent draw up an agreement. One that holds you libel if any personal information about me is leaked to the press. If you squeal, I’ll ruin you.”
Shay doubted that. She and her family were pretty close to ruination already. He unfolded the document, laying it on the shelf in front of her. As she scanned the page, her lungs seized.
“The Platinum Palace?” she whispered. “How did you know about Mama’s salon?”
“Thank your blogger friend. All it took was a few keystrokes for my agent to find what he needed. The Internet is a powerful tool, even for us football players.”
Mama had dedicated her whole life to the Platinum Palace. At first doing hair was just a side job—her daily dose of gossip and gab—while she raised Shay and her twin, Teryn. But then Daddy got kicked in the head by a cutting horse that just didn’t want to be broke. The blow left him with the mental faculties of a senile old man. It left Mama with a mountain of medical bills and other debts her daddy had run up and no income. She’d mortgaged the Palace to the hilt, working full-time to turn it into a steady income stream.
• • •
Shay took a giant step back, whipping the stupid hairnet off her head, trying to smash down her wild hair. Of course he wasn’t attracted to her. He was just toying with her, to get her to do . . . what exactly? Certainly not sleep with her. Although she’d lied when she said she wouldn’t sleep with him. Worse, he knew it. Because, honestly, what women wouldn’t sleep with Brody Janik? She really, really needed to master thinking before speaking.
Brody leaned a shoulder against the metal shelf, his lazy smile making her uneasy. She was cloistered in a storeroom with
People
magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive and she needed to get out of there before she said—or did—something else foolish.
“Can we just get this breakup over with here?” She crushed the hairnet in her fist.
He arched an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.
Shay heaved a sigh. “Look, we can’t very well deny we were kissing—it’s all over the Internet. I have no problem with you telling everyone you were drunk or confused and didn’t know what you were doing. As long as I’m left alone to finish out my internship.”
Brody’s expression remained bland. “No.”
“No?” Shay was exasperated now. “Fine. I’ll dump you. I’ll tell everyone you were a dud, proving my point about all football players.”
He bristled at that. “Not gonna happen, either.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous, Brody. We’re arguing over something that isn’t even true. Just tell everyone the whole thing was a joke or something and let it go at that.” She made for the door, but he grabbed hold of her wrist.
“We’re not breaking up,” he said evenly.
“There’s nothing to break up! We’re not a couple.”
“No, but we’re going to use this little farce as a cover.”
A shiver passed through her body. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by fear or something else. “A cover? For what?”
“You know something that I don’t want other people to know. I don’t trust you with that secret. As it happens, I’m in need of a personal chef with experience in nutrition. Someone who can help me control my blood sugar.” He nodded at her. “It’s really a win-win situation. For me at least.”
Shay tried to process what he was saying. He’d keep her secret about being in the locker room if she’d keep his. In return, she had to prepare his meals for him. It seemed like a straightforward plan. Except for the part about being around him. That might not be so straightforward given how her body reacted every time he was near.
“You won’t trust that I’ll keep your secret, but you will trust me in your home? A place where I’ll have access to lots of your other secrets?”
“One step ahead of you, Texas.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “I took the liberty of having my agent draw up an agreement. One that holds you libel if any personal information about me is leaked to the press. If you squeal, I’ll ruin you.”
Shay doubted that. She and her family were pretty close to ruination already. He unfolded the document, laying it on the shelf in front of her. As she scanned the page, her lungs seized.
“The Platinum Palace?” she whispered. “How did you know about Mama’s salon?”
“Thank your blogger friend. All it took was a few keystrokes for my agent to find what he needed. The Internet is a powerful tool, even for us football players.”
Mama had dedicated her whole life to the Platinum Palace. At first doing hair was just a side job—her daily dose of gossip and gab—while she raised Shay and her twin, Teryn. But then Daddy got kicked in the head by a cutting horse that just didn’t want to be broke. The blow left him with the mental faculties of a senile old man. It left Mama with a mountain of medical bills and other debts her daddy had run up and no income. She’d mortgaged the Palace to the hilt, working full-time to turn it into a steady income stream.
Similar Books
