Page 56 of Most Likely to Score
She screws up the corner of her lips, clearly thinking. “As a publicist, I’m always looking for angles, so maybe we agree that when we go back to San Francisco, we can return to being player and publicist.”
I grin wickedly, liking her clever mind. “Your angle is sharp. And since we return in two days, that meanstomorrow I can get you on your hands and knees again so I can fuck you like the animal you say I am?”
“Jones . . .” It comes out like a purr.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She nods. “Yes, then we go back to how it was.” Her expression turns apologetic. “I love what I do, and I don’t want to chance losing it. My career has always been important to me. It was that way for my mom, too. I learned it from her.”
I can’t help but smile when she mentions her mom. I love that she’s such a family gal. “Why was it that way for her?”
“She always said that true contentment comes from what you do. She’d say don’t go looking for happiness in a man or in a relationship. Find it in your work. Find it, and when you do, it’ll feed your soul.”
“Does publicity feed your soul?”
“This might sound weird, but it does. I love sports, and I love using the platform the team has to do good. Sometimes, athletes get a bad rep,” she says, and I huff, knowing that reality too well. “But in most cases, the public just needs to see the other side. And with so many young people looking up to athletes, it’s great to show them doing amazing things for the community. I love that I can do that. I love that the great work you do on and off the field can inspire young people to work harder, to be better, to be the best they can be. That does feed my soul, in a way, and I think I’m good at it.”
Running my fingers through her soft locks, I nod. “You’re not just good at it. You’re great at it.” I slow my strokes, making sure she meets my eyes. “I loveknowing there’s a piece of your mom driving you on, even when she’s not here.”
Jillian whispers, “Me, too.”
“You miss her, don’t you?” I ask.
She bites the corner of her lips, nodding. “I do. I’m used to it, but I do miss her.”
“How could you not?” Dropping my hand from her hair, I loop my fingers through hers.
“But sometimes, I think she lives on.”
“In what way?”
“In my attitude, I like to think. She liked to learn new things. I’m the same way. She was positive, and I think I try to see the bright side. But also, she truly embraced family and both where you’re from and what family means to you.”
“I love that,” I say, eager to know more. “What did it mean to her?”
A fond look crosses Jillian’s eyes. “They loved to take me to fall festivals every year. To pumpkin patches and hay rides, and to Christmas markets and July 4thparades.”
“My family is obsessed with parades and festivals,” I say, totally charmed by this detail of her.
“Yeah?”
“Swear. I call my mom and dad the king and queen of festivals. That’s their tradition too—going to all sorts of events. There was this Irish Music Fest they took us to every year. Family-friendly bands, step dancing and stuff. If I wasn’t a football player, pretty sure Mom wanted me to be a step dancer.”
She cracks up. “Can you step dance?”
“Not one bit.”
“You’ll have to try someday.”
“That shit is hard,” I say.
“And football’s not?”
“Fair point.”
“What else did they do to keep that alive? Is St. Patrick’s Day a big thing.”
“The biggest. We had to go to that parade every year,” I say.
