Jaci Burton - Straddling the Line

She took a seat across from him in one of the cushioned chairs.

“There’s some iced tea and water in the pitchers,” he said, motioning to two glass pitchers on the nearby table. “Would you like something?”

“Tea would be wonderful.” She started to get up, but he stopped her.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“What? No servants hovering nearby to do that for you?”

“Uh, no. I’m pretty sure I can take care of this part by myself.”

“But you have a chef.”

“Yeah.” He took a drink out of his glass, then set it down. “Hammond used to work for the Rivers organization in concessions. He’d always been a big fan, and all the players liked him a lot. A couple of years ago he reached retirement age, but he and his wife Lyla still have a mortgage to pay off. Plus they’re raising two of their grandkids because . . . well, because of some private circumstances. When I heard about that, I hired him on to help here at the house. He’s a hell of a cook. Wait till you taste the steaks.”

What a story, and what a surprise. “You’re quite the humanitarian, Trevor.”

Trevor gave her an enigmatic smile. “I like good food, and like I said, Hammond can cook the daylights out of anything. I think I got the better end of the deal.”

He was modest as well. He didn’t want to appear the hero. She didn’t know what to make of that. “That was very nice of you.”

Trevor just shrugged, and she felt awful for thinking him living the rich and privileged life, when he’d just given an old man and his family a decent break.

She had a lot to learn about Trevor. And she needed to stop prejudging him and start using her investigative skills in the way she’d been taught.

She wished she’d brought her laptop down with her so she could make some notes.

It was time to put her game face on and get to work.

“SO TELL ME, TREVOR . . . WHY THIS HOUSE?”

Trevor could tell Haven wanted to make this an interview, that she wanted to get down to business right away. Maybe that was a good thing—at least for her. She seemed at ease, which he was happy to see.

“Why that question? And is it a professional question, or a personal one?” Trevor asked.

Her lips tilted. “Maybe a little of both.”

“Fair enough.” He leaned back in the chair. “I liked all the trees. And all the space. Plus the pool. There was plenty of space to do everything I wanted. I didn’t grow up with a lot of room, so just having that freedom to wander makes me happy.”

She stood, went to the window, and looked out over the back of the property, before turning back to face him with a smile. “I can see that.”

How had he not noticed her in college? She was beautiful. She’d always seemed pissed off at him when they were in school together. Then again, she’d been forced to tutor him, and he knew damn well he hadn’t been an easy student.

He’d been too preoccupied with football, and with trying to pass his classes by the skin of his teeth so he wouldn’t lose his scholarship. Haven had been nothing but a means to an end for him. He hadn’t thought of her as a desirable young woman. She’d been his salvation, and he’d used her in that way. Besides, she was Bill’s daughter, and that had made her strictly off-limits.

But now? Now . . . ah, hell. She was still off-limits. He owed Ginger—and Bill—and it was his duty to get Haven fired up. And not in a sexual way.

But damn, as she stood there, her posture perfect, her legs outlined in those tight pants she wore, he realized how much time he’d let get away without really getting to know her better.

And now—now they were working together, which meant he couldn’t cross that line.

Or he shouldn’t, anyway. That wasn’t what she was here for, and she sure as hell wasn’t interested in him that way. She’d made that clear in college, and the two of them had butted heads ever since. He was surprised she’d agreed to this assignment, but he saw that as a good sign. So had Ginger, when he’d told her.

But when had his body ever cooperated with his mind? He found her attractive, especially now. She’d grown her raven hair out some. She always used to wear it very short. Now it framed her face, the breeze coming in through the open windows blowing strands of it against her cheek. She’d taken off her sunglasses, giving him a look at her beautiful blue eyes. But they weren’t normal blue. They were . . . what was that color again? He couldn’t remember.

“You’re staring at me, Trevor.”

“Was I? Sorry. Want to take a walk outside before dinner?”

“Sure.”

No hesitation. He liked that. He stood and led her out the side door and down the steps toward the pool. “It’s heated, in case you want to take a swim.”

“Okay, thanks. It’s still plenty warm outside. It might feel good.”

“Yeah. Especially after a hot game.”

She stopped, turned to him. “Your next one is tomorrow? A home series this weekend?”

“Yeah. Against Chicago. You’ll be there?”

“I will.”

They walked along the path between the backyard and the woods. He liked the quiet, the sounds of the breeze rustling the leaves of the trees. It gave him time to think.

“So you had a day off today,” she said as they walked side by side.

“Yeah.”

“What do you do on your rare days off?”

“I spent some time on the phone with my lawyers, hashing out some business deals. Talked to my football team in Tampa.”

“They’re under way now,” she said.

“I know.”

“Does it pull at you, knowing you’re missing the start of the season?”

He shrugged. “Not much I can do about it. There’s only one of me and I can’t be two places at one time.”

She paused and tilted her head up to look at him. “Are you sure? I mean, you are a superstar and all.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s me.” He liked that her sense of humor seemed intact.

When they made the turnaround on the path, he said, “Come on, let’s go see if Hammond has those steaks ready.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, I have one more phone call to make. Meet you in the kitchen?”

“Sure. I’ll just take our drinks in there.” She stopped at the sunroom, picked up the tray, and left the room.

Trevor took a minute to grab his phone and give her mom a quick call.

“Why, hello, Trevor.”

“Hi, Miss Ginger. I don’t have much time, but wanted to let you know Haven’s here.”

“How is she?”

“She seems okay. She hasn’t been here long, but we had a short talk. She seems in good spirits and doesn’t appear to be down or anything.”

“Oh, that’s a good sign.”

“I’ll keep you posted, but I intend to keep her busy.”

“Good. She needs that. And thank you again.”

“I’ll do what I can, Miss Ginger.”

“I know you will, honey. I’ll talk to you soon.”

He hung up, then went into the kitchen to find Haven in deep conversation with Hammond about how to season the perfect steak.

“Now, Miss Haven, if I gave up all my secrets to Mr. Trevor’s guests, what would he need me for?”

Haven laughed. “In other words, you aren’t going to tell me what that amazing smell is? If I had to guess, I’d say garlic.”

Hammond smiled. “Not saying a word. Taking that recipe to my grave.” When Hammond spotted him, he asked, “Where would you like to eat tonight, Mr. Trevor?”

“In the eating area is just fine, Hammond.”

“You two go ahead and take a seat. I’ll be serving up the meal in just a few minutes.”

They went into the next room. Trevor held her chair out for her. She slid into it and lifted her gaze to his, and she didn’t look happy. “This isn’t a date, you know.”

“No, but you are a guest.” He sensed her being defensive, though he didn’t know why. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t be respectful?”

“I guess not. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was about to ask her if she was upset about something, but Hammond came out bearing a tray with their salads.

“Miss Haven already told me her preferred dressing,” he said, laying dressing to the side. “When you finish these, I’ll bring your steaks.”

“Thanks, Hammond. I assume you made some extras to take home to you, Lyla, and the grandkids?”

Hammond grinned. “You know I did.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and take off before those steaks get cold? I can serve them up.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I’m happy to serve you dinner and clean up after.”

“Go ahead and have dinner with your family. I’m pretty sure Haven and I can take it from here.”

Haven nodded. “We can. And thank you for fixing dinner. I already know it’s going to be fantastic.”

“I expect a full report tomorrow on how you liked your steak,” he said as he made his way toward the kitchen. “You two have a great night.”

“Good night, Hammond,” Trevor said, then dug into his salad. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“What you did was very nice,” Haven said.

Trevor looked up at her and frowned. “What? Oh . . . Hammond? He likes to spend time with Lyla and the kids.”

“How old are the children?”

“Four and six.”

“Off the record? What happened to their mom?”

He hesitated.

“Seriously, Trevor. This is off the record.”

He nodded. “Hammond’s daughter Jasmine has a drug problem. A big one she’s been struggling with off and on for years. She was in and out of jail a few times for possession. But it went from bad to worse, and two years ago she started dealing, got caught, and now she has a long-term prison problem.”

Haven laid her fork down. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah. So Hammond and Lyla got full custody of Amelia and Jacob.”

“What about the kids’ father?”

“Two different fathers, neither responsible enough to be in the picture. They were even worse than Jasmine. One’s in jail for armed robbery.”

Haven sighed. “Those poor children. Thank God they have grandparents like Hammond and his wife to care for them.”

“Yeah. Hammond made a lot of sacrifices to try to get his daughter clean, but then finally washed his hands of her and bent over backward for the grandkids.”

“Some people you can’t help.”

“Not if they don’t want the help, no.”

She laid her hand on his. “Thank you for helping Hammond and his family.”

“Hammond’s doing all the work. I’m just paying his salary.”

“You’re right. He is. But he has you in his corner, and that’s great.”

“I like him. And I get a benefit out of this, too, you know. You haven’t tasted those steaks yet.”

She laughed. “Well, let’s get to it.”

Trevor was glad the topic was off him and onto the food, which of course tasted damn good.

“Oh, my God,” Haven said after she’d eaten a couple of pieces of her steak. “No wonder you hired Hammond. This steak is fantastic.”

Trevor swallowed and took a drink of iced tea. “I told you I got the better end of this deal.”

“So what you’re saying is, you can’t cook.”

“Sure I can. But I’m on the road a lot, and while I’m here in St. Louis, I have a fantastic cook.”

“And when you move to Tampa to play football? What happens to Hammond then?”

“He comes here every day to see to the house for me.”

She leaned back in her chair. “In other words, you continue to pay him annually.”

“Yeah.”

“Because you can afford to do that and because you’re a nice guy.”

“Aw, come on, don’t go telling people that, Haven. I have a badass reputation to maintain. And besides, we’re still off the record.”

She laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.”

After they finished eating, they cleared the table and took the dishes into the kitchen. Haven turned on the water and started rinsing them.

Trevor laid his hand over hers. “Hammond will have your ass if you start washing those dishes.”

“I can’t just leave these dirty dishes in the sink.”

“And if you take away his job, you’ll take away his pride.”

Now that, she understood. She turned off the water. “Fine.”

She grabbed a towel to dry her hands.

He led her back to the sunroom. But first, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He held one up for her, but she shook her head.

When they settled in, she realized it had gotten dark while they were eating. And cooler outside.

“Cold?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He reached for the blanket that was lying over one of the chairs and handed it to her.