Free Line of Scrimmage by Marie Force Page A

know you think it’s dumb in light of everything I’ve had with the
     Mavs, but it hurt. I don’t expect you to understand it. Why would you? After all,
    I had to tell you the quarterback is the one who throws the ball.”
    She chuckled when she remembered his shock at discovering she knew absolutely nothing about football and wasn’t among the
     legions of Florida’s faithful who spent autumn Saturdays in The Swamp worshiping at the altar of Ryan Sanderson. “And no one
     throws the ball better than you do,” she said softly, regretting now that she had pulled the scab off an old wound. “I’m sorry
     I didn’t try harder to understand how much that hurt you.”
    He shrugged. “It’s old news now, and in hindsight, I guess it was kind of dumb. I hardly have anything to complain about, do I? How did we get on this tired old subject, anyway?”
    She smiled. “I think it started with me saying you get everything you want.”
    “Ah, yes,” he said, returning her smile. “And something about me not understanding the word no, if I recall correctly.”
    Amusement faded into desire when their eyes met in the milky darkness.
    He combed his fingers through her hair and tugged lightly, tipping her face up. “Kiss me,” he whispered.
    “No,” she said, even though she burned for him.
    A long, breathless moment passed before he removed his hand from her hair and eased her back down to her pillow. He kissed
     her forehead, whispering, “See? I can take no for an answer.”
    Susannah lay awake for a long time after he left wishing he had stayed and worrying about what she might have done if he hadn’t
     taken no for an answer.

    Ryan delivered breakfast in bed the next morning: coffee, toast, scrambled eggs, juice, and a sprig of evergreen in a vase.
     “I couldn’t find a rose,” he said with a shy and uncertain smile.
    “Roses aren’t big fans of snow,” she said, impressed and touched by the effort he was making. She sat up and combed her fingers
     through her hair, worried that she looked like a wreck.
    He rested the tray on her lap and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful in the morning. You never believed me when I told
     you that.”
    That he read her thoughts so easily was more than a little unnerving. That he was so different from the Ryan she had come
     to expect was terrifying. She had no idea how to protect herself from this new sensitive, attentive version of Ryan. Reaching
     for the mug of coffee on the tray, she took a long sip, hoping it would wake up her defenses, because right now they were
     missing in action.
    “Do you think maybe you could take that off while we’re here?” he asked.
    “What?”
    He nodded at her engagement ring.
    “No.”
    Sitting down on the bed, he reached for her hand and ran his thumb over the ring. “What did you do with the rings I gave you?”
    “They’re in the safe at home.”
    “I thought you’d hock them or something.”
    “Why? I don’t need the money. You saw to that.”
    He shrugged. “I figured they’d be a bad memory, like me.”
    “You aren’t a bad memory. Well, not entirely . . . ”
    His laughter filled the room, but his smile faded when Susannah’s cell phone rang. He got up and retrieved her purse, dropping
     it on the bed next to her.
    “Sorry,” she said with a weak smile. They had a rule about no phones at the cabin. They’d never had a phone installed there
     and used to make a big show of turning off their cell phones the minute they entered the town of Breckenridge. Susannah had
     been so annoyed at him when they arrived the day before she hadn’t thought of it.
    “Hello?” she said as Ryan stalked from the room.
    “Susannah,” her sister said. “What the hell is going on out there?”
    “Hello to you, too, Missy,” she said with a sigh.
    “I just got off the phone with Henry. He’s going out of his mind. Tell me he’s not serious about you being in Breckenridge
     with Ryan.”
    “I wish I could.”
    “Oh, that