Loving Him Off the Field (Santa Fe Bobcats #2)(47)

Aileen laughed before she could help it.

Cassie nodded. “I like you,” she declared. “I’ve made it my mission to start making more friends out here, now that I’m officially in Santa Fe on a permanent basis.”

The reporter in her heard a story in the making. Moved out permanently, putting down roots, working in the Bobcat main offices . . . Sounds like a good one. Then the woman slapped the reporter back two steps. “Friends are good.” She wouldn’t be able to speak from experiences, of course, but she knew logically they were a good thing to have around.

Cassie’s phone beeped and she checked it, smiling a little. “It’s my dad,” she explained. “He apologized for taking so long, but apparently he had to, in his own words,” Cassie held up quote fingers, “‘rip a few new ones.’ They’re done now.” She made a face. “Guys say the nastiest things.”

“They do,” Aileen agreed. “But God love ’em.”

Cassie bumped her shoulder and chuckled.

Too bad they couldn’t be friends in real life. Cassie would always be guarded around her, and Aileen would never be able to fully put away the reporter instinct.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye and saw Killian approaching.

He would always be guarded, too. She had to keep remembering that. Even in the soft afterglow, he wasn’t going to fully let her see in. It would never work out.

Man, that sucked.

*

For approximately five seconds after seeing Aileen with Cassie Wainwright, Killian had the panicked thought she was grilling Cassie for a story. Just what he needed, the coach’s daughter being pissed at him for bringing around a reporter to pick at her.

Then he shook that idea off. He wasn’t bringing her around. She was following him, just like any other member of the media. Trying to get a story, then backing off when it didn’t work. Then Cassie laughed, and Aileen smiled, and he let out a breath. Not grilling, but gabbing. Doing that mysterious girl-bonding thing that men never seemed to quite understand.

He approached slowly, giving them plenty of time to hush up before he reached eavesdropping range. Aileen saw him first, and shot him a beautiful smile. His chest tightened all over again, but for a completely different reason. Cassie smiled as well. She was a pretty woman, with a sunny personality, who had been handed a shitty situation to deal with recently. But she was handling it with as much grace as possible, and he could respect her for it. But her smile didn’t make his insides jitter around like Freckles’ did.

Damn. He just had to have the hots for a reporter. More than the hots, unfortunately.

Trey Owens walked up behind him and nudged his shoulder. “What are they talking about?”

“She’s not grilling Cassie,” Killian said defensively. “They’re just talking. Cassie could get up and walk away any time she wanted.”

Trey held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t accusing her of anything. Just curious.” He eyed Killian warily. “Are you gonna bite my head off if I go get my girl?”

Killian rolled his eyes and swept his hand out, indicating he was free and clear. Trey winked and ran up to grab Cassie. She stood and her smile brightened several degrees for her lover. She reached out to hug him, then repelled back. “Trey! Shower before you hug me!”

He ignored her admonishments and hooked an arm around her shoulder. They walked down the bleachers together, and he could hear Trey mention dropping her off at her father’s office before taking off to get lunch with the guys.

Killian told himself he wasn’t upset he hadn’t been asked to go out.

Aileen approached warily, like she might walk up to a bear with its paw caught in a trap. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He let her get close, then asked, “What were you two laughing about?”

She shrugged, a small smile curving her lips. “Nothing much.”

“Does she know what your job is?”

Her smile faltered, but she held onto it as best she could. He wanted to kick himself in the nuts for dimming that light. “I told her, she still sat with me. I wasn’t hiding my identity for a story, if that’s what you’re implying. I could have, but I didn’t. That’s not how I operate. And I’m not all that happy you think so low of me.” She kept walking right past him, and he reached to grab her elbow before he remembered they were in a public place. Causing a scene was not high on his list of priorities.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. It was small, but enough to stop her from leaving the bleachers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant . . . I wanted to make sure she couldn’t come back and accuse you later. She’s a nice lady, and I doubt she would have. But I’m used to playing by the Cover Your Ass playbook.” It was the most important playbook, in his opinion.

She looked out onto the empty practice field for a few moments before nodding. “Fine. I understand. We were just talking, that’s all. I’m not doing a story on her.”

He soaked that in for a moment. “Isn’t everyone trying to? I thought that was the big push. Everyone harass the coach’s daughter, see if she’s really the reason Stephen left the team, or whatever.”

“Stephen left the team?” She blinked up at him, and he saw sharp interest. She’d put her journalist hat back on. “Permanently? Or just for a while? Is he injured? Personal reasons? Where’s his family from?”