False Start (Mavericks #1)(7)

By: Julianna Marley

“Couldn’t you do it for me?” he asked, deciding to flash his infamous grin anyway.

“I mean you did such a fantastic job with everything else.” He added gesturing his free hand slightly around the room.

Slowly shaking her head, she leaned closer into his ear and he was hit with the scent of light coconut coming from her smooth neck.

“I have an idea,” she whispered as he gripped his Corona harder. Oh, he couldn’t wait to hear her idea. She was turning him on already and all she was doing was breathing. “You sit here and drink your beer and I will thank all of your guests for attending your event and present your charity with your check,” she chuckled as he sucked in a small breath.

“You would do that for me?” he teased looking back into her face. She definitely wasn’t going to let him get his way, although at the moment, getting his way meant less about getting out of speaking in front of a crowd and more about the two of them in the back of a limo while getting up close and personal with those legs he had been admiring all evening.


Standing up quickly she crossed her arms across her chest. And she had a great chest. Nodding towards the podium, she looked amused, but also sexy as hell. When he didn’t move, she grinned leaning back down into his ear and he wasn’t entirely confident he wasn’t going to burst. Why was this woman driving him crazy? Was it her? Or had it just been that long since he got laid?

“You’re a big boy, Captain.”

You have no idea.

“I would be wildly disappointed to learn that the biggest player in the NFL needs a girl to do his job for him.” She winked tapping him softly on his shoulder pointing to the podium before walking away. Nope, it was definitely her.

“Alright,” he said standing up before she had a chance to get too far. “But you owe me Ms. Moore,” he promised pointing at her. Rolling her eyes playfully she left him standing there, a little amused, a little curious, and ridiculously turned on.


Reaching for the glass doors of her office nestled inside a brick building on West Avenue in the heart of town, Alivia was anxious to see if Save the Date had received any positive feedback from Saturday night’s event. The party had gone great. Better than great, it had been terrific. Walking into the sunlight drenched space decorated from floor to ceiling in bridal ivory; the only pop of color provided by the lush mock table settings, faux cake displays and the mint green arm chairs available for guests and clients, she was pleased that everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves at the event. Maybe even more satisfied that the event had raised a ton of money for such a wonderful cause, because really, there was nothing more fulfilling to her than helping people who needed it the most. Placing a macchiato on the wide front desk for her receptionist, she was welcomed by a giant bouquet of stunning roses, nearly occupying half of the desk.

“Where did these come from?” she mouthed quietly to Charlotte who was on the phone, pointing to the bouquet curiously.

“They came a few minutes ago for you,” Charlotte whispered. “There’s a card.”

Bending down to smell a large rose bud, she found the card, delicately removing it from the round arrangement opening the envelope. It wasn’t uncommon for flowers to be delivered to the office, usually from local florists around town showcasing their work in an attempt to get on the preferred vendor list for weddings and events, but this bouquet was much more impressive and ornate than anything she had ever seen delivered. The three different shades of purple roses contouring around a crystal base smelled even better than they looked.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Ross’s yells traveled over the entire square footage of the office, his door swinging open causing both her and Charlotte to jump. Running down the small hallway carrying the newspaper, showing no signs of slowing his pace, he grabbed her into a giant hug, lifting her off the floor.

“What?” she asked confused, trying to get out of his suffocating chokehold, something so unlike him.

“Not only has our phone been ringing off the hook today with people from Saturday night’s event,” he said nodding at Charlotte for confirmation, “but we managed to get four big accounts including two weddings, a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and a sweet sixteen,” he exclaimed smiling so brightly his eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his head.

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