Page 28 of Sidelined By Love

Except no one gave my nerves that memo, and the tug low in my belly suggests that I’d enjoy kissing Grant a whole lot more than I ever did Joe.

Joe was fine at first. Slim and a few inches shy of six feet. And his face had been plastered on posters for three blockbusters in one year. By all accounts he was a nice guy. Until he wasn’t. More than anything he was . . . persistent.

Three weeks into the shoot, I gave in. Told him I’d go to dinner with him.

My skin crawls as I remember the way he ran his hands over my arms and back, tugging at my clothes, pressing his lips to my ear, pushing me against the outside of my trailer.

God help me, I liked the attention. I’d told myself for years that I didn’t need it. That I was doing just fine on my own. Busy with my career. With friends. Finding a church to attend near my latest shoot.

But the minute Joe showed me even a snippet of real interest, I caved.

I’d like to blame it on years of singleness. Or being on location in South Africa. Maybe I hadn’t realized how lonely my life had become.

I am sure that if Joe had deigned to mention his marital status—his recently changed status thanks to a secret backyard wedding that his publicist had miraculously been able to keep out of the press—I would never have agreed to that first date.

One thing I’m certain of right now—Joe Kellyn has nothing on the Teeners’ QB1.

Which is problematic to keeping my oath never to fall for someone in the limelight.

“You ready to give this a shot?” Grant’s voice is in my ear, running over me like honey.

“Sure.” And with that, he helps me throw it.

It doesn’t go fifty yards. Or even fifteen. But it’s a solid ten-yard toss. The spiral isn’t exactly centered, but a wobbly ball still flies.

“I did it!”

He chuckles. “Indeed, you did. Now do it again.”

Ten

Grant

Denise never disappoints, and I may have let myself indulge in an extra helping of carne asada flap steak. I lean back in my chair and pat my stomach. Only then do I realize that Kenna and Zoe are eyeing me with concern, still working on their first servings.

“What?”

Kenna merely rolls her eyes. But then her gaze swings back toward me, the weight of it heavy.

“What?” I ask again.

“It’s just that Mom said you don’t smile much. But I don’t know—”

My gaze darts toward Zoe, who tries to cover her flash of teeth with a big bite of steak. I do my best to put on a grumpy face, but I’m not really feeling it. I haven’t been all afternoon. Not since I wrapped Zoe up in my arms.

Of course it was all for the sake of her audition. Running my fingers over the smooth skin of her hands and pressing into her back. Inhaling the coconut scent of her shampoo and holding on to her waist.

Absolutely and only about her audition.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, she’ll stop popping up in my mind without notice or a good reason.

“Mom says you’ve been in a bad mood since Tawna dumped you.”

I nearly choke on my own tongue, throwing myself forward, forearms landing on either side of my empty plate.

Zoe is not nearly as dramatic. She simply pauses the bite of steak on her fork a few inches from her lips and raises an eyebrow in my general direction. “Tawna?”

I shake my head at Kenna, but she’s not even looking in my direction. “She broke his heart.”

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