Page 1 of Protect Home
PROLOGUE
TENLEY
3 Years Earlier
“Oh, she got tan legs and a pretty face to match? Must be my lucky day.”
“King. Go away,” the beautiful redhead introduced as Navy, tells the player before me.
It’s my first day on the new job. That’s right. You’re looking at the Atlanta Strikers’ newest social media coordinator. A job I never imagined myself being good at, but here we are.
After Coach Jack Leggins gave me a tour of Makers Park and showed me to my temporary cubicle, I was introduced to Navy Hayes. I can already tell Navy is someone who doesn’t allow people in her life to keep her at arm’s length.
She’s outgoing in the best way. A way that worries me for the rest of the staff here. Are they all this extroverted and friendly? Not that I’d consider myself entirely the opposite.I’m just choosy with who I allow in my small corner of the world.
It’s purely for my own protection and nothing more, nothing less.
“It’s okay,” I tell Navy, laughing it off and reaching to shakeKing’shand. “I’m Tenley. Tenley Abrams.”
His grin spreads wide across his face. Warm brown skin—unblemished and smooth. God, he’s handsome. Do all the players look like this?
All it takes is for King to swat my hand away, and I instantly know he’s someone I’m confident I’ll be able to trust someday. Call it a gut instinct. “That’s not how we do it here at Makers, TT,” he tells me before pulling me into a hug.
TT?Seems I’ve already earned myself a nickname. Not sure how I feel about that, but I’ll take it.
I hear Navy chuckling behind me in the most carefree way, and I can’t help but laugh. That was one hell of an introduction.
But the thing that really sets me off is the crowd of men in tight pants headed our way from across the field. They must have just finished practicing for the day, looking exhausted and covered in sweat.
Holy hell. Even my old job at the magazine column never had these kinds of views.
They’re dressed just like King—in white, skintight baseball pants, a black T-shirt with “Atlanta Strikers” across the front, knee-high black socks, and cleats.
A pornographic combination.
But oddly enough, it’s not the group as a whole that makes my heart race. It’s the giant man with a mustache and an array of tattoos across his tan skin.
In a cluster of giant ball players, he’s the mostconfident. I can tell. His head held high, letting me believe there’s a level of arrogance there. But the kicker is the sexy grin he’s sporting.
He knows he’s hot, and by the looks of it, his sights are already set on the new girl in the distance.
Me.
“Boys, we’ve got a new lady in the house!” King greets the guys as they stop in front of us on the field.
I’ve never been much of an overthinker, but right now, I’m thankful I took a bit more time on my makeup this morning and didn’t forget the deodorant. I have a feeling I’ll be hugged much more than I’m accustomed to.
This team feels much more like a family than just players who throw a ball around together.
There’s a comfortable familiarity even I can pick up.
“Hi. I’m Callaway.” Without warning, I’m brought into a side hug by another freakishly tall man with tattoos covering every sliver of his body.
“Tenley.” I smile softly, looking up at him as he pulls away.
The whole gamble of players hugs me, introducing themselves, before heading toward the dugout to gather their things. But one player in particular hangs back.
“Tenley is our new social media girl!” Navy yells at the guys retreating backs. “Be nice to her or I’ll cut your dicks off and feed them to the fans!”
