Free Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1) by Liz Matis

while speculating on the others around us. None of them were like me. Yet another place where I didn’t fit in. I was the shortest by far. My makeup was the bare minimum, while they had their faces painted on like they were competing at a beauty pageant. My shoes were practical, one-inch-heeled booties while some of the others sported stilettos in thirty-degree temperatures! They probably wondered what Dean saw in me.
    Why hadn’t Dean said something about my attire? As the quarterback’s girlfriend, I was probably expected to dress to impress. But this was a football game for Christ’s sake, not a dance club.
    I slid the binoculars out of my bag and made a slow sweep of the stadium. My eyes landed on the Kings’ cheerleaders. The security team had performed background checks, but other than some sex tapes, they all were clean. I continued my sweep as I wondered which ones Molly and Bridget were. If it wasn’t important to the case, I didn’t want to know. Liar.
    “You don’t seem too interested in watching your man play,” said Kelly, the wife of one of the running backs.
    “I can’t stand to see Dean get hit,” I lied. Or perhaps it wasn’t a lie. He might not have been my Fantasy Football pick, but I didn’t want him to get injured on or off the field. It was up to his lineman to protect him from the other team’s defense.
    “You’ll never make it as a quarterback’s girlfriend. He’s the other team’s number one target.”
    Yep, Dean Walker was a walking bull’s-eye.
    “Reeves?” said Ian in my ear.
    “Yeah.” I got up and headed for the concession stand so I wouldn’t draw any curious stares. They already thought I was a little off.
    “Looks like you pissed off someone real good.”
    “They weren’t flowers?” People buzzed around me, going and coming to and from, buying food or making trips to the bathroom.
    “Oh, they were flowers. Dead ones. Dead roses to be exact.”
    My stomach fell. I spun around. Everyone looked like a threat, everyone looked innocent until they all became a sea of blurred faces.
    “And there’s something else.”
    Buck up, Alexa.
    “Bring it,” I said, determined to prove to Ian that I was as tough as any male in his employ, especially after that “like a good girlfriend” remark.
    “There’s powder residue on the tips. We have no choice but to involve the FBI. I’m sending it to their lab for testing. Probably just baby powder but…”
    Ian didn’t need to finish the sentence. I knew Dean wasn’t the only walking bull’s-eye in the stadium. Were the flowers from the girl I had the run-in with at Martini Madness? Or were they from some other jealous female, prompted by the photos in the gossip pages of Dean and I holding hands outside the club? The guys on the detail ribbed me endlessly about it. I was used to disappearing into the background not being thrown into the spotlight. Hopefully my new claim to fame would be yesterday’s news by the time I moved on to my next assignment.
    “You made the stalker make a move. Good job, Reeves.”
    Why did that praise suddenly seem hollow? And was I more upset that I’d become the stalker’s target or that we were one step closer to catching her, thereby ending my pretend relationship with Dean?

Chapter 9
    Dean
    F ourth and goal.
    Early in the game, conventional football strategy would tell you to kick a field goal and take the three points. My coach, God bless him, was a rebel. That’s why we got along so well. With three failed attempts by the running backs to break the plane, the offensive coordinator radioed in a pass play to the tiny speaker in my helmet. After relaying the risky call to my teammates, we lined up.
    I took the snap, dropped back, and scanned the field for my options. There were none. Like a charging bull, Dawson, the Steelheads defensive back, broke through the offensive line. I’m fucked.
    I scrambled until I saw it, a glimpse of daylight. I ducked like a matador, Dawson missed me,