Irresistibly Yours (Oxford #1)(22)

She scratched the tip of her nose as she thought it over. “What about Jackson Burke? You can’t tell me that every guy in America doesn’t secretly want to be him.”

“No argument there. The man’s a living legend. But if your beef with Adam Bailey is his track record with women, how is Jackson Burke any better?”

Penelope scowled and crossed her arms. “I don’t believe those rumors about him.”

“Rumors,” Cole said slowly. “You mean like when his wife accused him of having multiple affairs with women she named by name, and then those same women came forward to back up her claims?”

Penelope glanced at her nails. “I think they made it up.”

Cole leaned forward, a knowing smile on his face. “Tiny. Do you have a crush on Jackson Burke?”

Maybe.

The quarterback of the Texas Redhawks had long been one of Penelope’s idols.

Not only because the man was exceptionally skilled on the football field, although he was. But he’d also funded a dozen charities—quietly, out of the spotlight. He’d adopted a handful of dogs rescued from another football player’s heinous dog-fighting hobby. He’d taken his parents out to dinner after every Super Bowl win….

“Tiny?” Cole prompted.

“Jackson Burke is a good man,” she said stubbornly.

“All right, let’s just say that he hasn’t been having affairs with half the women in Texas,” Cole said slowly. “He’s still not a good choice. Nobody cares about football in April.”

He had a point. They’d be better off saving a Jackson feature for football season, when everyone would be wondering if the rumors about his off-season activities affected his game.

“But golf?” she said, skeptical. “I know it’s growing in popularity, but—”

“It’s growing in popularity because of Adam Bailey,” Cole argued. “The man single-handedly revived the sport when he won four tours in a row and then started dating Hollywood actresses.”

“Exactly, and then he single-handedly tarnished the sport when he started dating more than one Hollywood actress at a time,” Penelope argued. “The man’s a playboy. And unlike Burke, Bailey’s all but admitted to it.”

“We don’t care about his bedroom game, we care about the golf game. And his game’s as good as it ever was. Better.”

“But—”

“You know I’m right on this. If we were the Relationships editors, we’d get flak for going with him, but we’re sports editors.”

“We’ll still get flak,” she grumbled.

“Bad publicity is still publicity. You know that.”

Damn it. Damn it. He was right.

It was just…she hated men who saw one woman while leading another on.

Shake it off, Penelope.

She lifted her hands out to her sides and shook them.

Cole smiled. “Penelope. Are you physically shaking it off right now?”

“Don’t judge, it helps,” she said.

He lifted his arms and mimicked her motions so they were both flapping like birds. “You’re right. It does.”

“What are you shaking off?” she asked.

Cole shrugged. “Nothing. I’m flawless.”

There was throat clearing from the doorway and she turned to see Lincoln Mathis watching them with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, hi, Lincoln!” She let her arms drop to her sides.

“Oh, hi, Lincoln!” Cole mimicked in a breathy voice.

She ignored him, mostly because he had a point. She probably had been a little breathless, but it was 100 hundred percent justified.

Yes, Lincoln Mathis was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

Dark wavy hair, blue eyes that were both friendly and distant, practically begging a woman to fix him. Same went for the shy yet confident smile, the muscled yet lean body.

Penelope felt a blast of misty water hit her cheek and turned around to see Cole holding a blue squirt bottle. “What are you doing? That’s for misting my plants!”

“You looked hot,” he said with a shrug, setting the bottle aside.

She wiped at her wet face with her sleeve. Forget Lincoln. It was Cole she was going to have to learn to survive.

“What can we help you with, Lincoln?”

The other man strolled into her office, sitting in the chair next to her before tilting his head. “Isn’t something backward here? Or did you switch offices?”

“Nope, you’ve got it about right,” she said. “Sharpe stole my chair.”

“And you let him?”

Penelope shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me where I sit when we argue.”

“Discuss,” Cole said. “We were discussing.”

“Yeah? Who won?” she asked.

“I did. Obviously.”

“Exactly. There’s no winner in a discussion. It was an argument, and I’ll concede this round, but—”

Lincoln held up a hand. “How about you two kids settle this later. I’ve got a crisis on my hands for my section.”

Penelope turned her attention back to Lincoln. “Relationships, right?”

“Ah, sure,” Lincoln said. “We can call it that.”