Page 65 of Ruff and Tumble

It had been too long since she’d allowed herself that liberty—of needing another person, of putting herself in their hands and trusting that she’d be safe there.

Nine years too long, in fact.

“Here.” Hailey returned and handed Penny the glass of wine. The other woman was standing in front of the poster board, rocking back and forth in an effort to keep Rufus asleep. “There’s also some ibuprofen and a heating pad in the medicine cabinet. Help yourself to anything you need.”

Penny nodded her thanks but didn’t make a move to grab either item. She sipped her wine and kept staring at Hailey’s handiwork instead.

“He’s hurt, isn’t he?” she asked. “That’s what this is. You mapped his injuries.”

Hailey nodded, surprised that Penny was so quick to pick up on the trend of her thoughts. “It’s not injuriesso much as injury, but yes.” She pointed at a red dot on her timeline. “This is when he hurt his shoulder in the game against Atlanta. He was only out for a few weeks, but everyone knew he wouldn’t be back up to full strength without surgery.”

“That was the year they missed the Kickoff Cup by a field goal, right? The same year we moved to the new warehouse for filming.”

“Yeah.” Hailey took a long, fortifying sip from her own glass. She didn’t know enough about wine to recognize the type or the quality, but it tasted dark and sweet. “That’s also when everyone started getting fixated on the curse. It was always whispered about before, but things really took off after that. Poor Cole.”

Penny murmured her agreement, but Hailey doubted whether her friend understood the extent of the burden that must have been put on him after that. She doubted whetheranyonedid. Even she treated the curse more like a joke than an actual problem, a sort of mystical punchline to explain away every loss and every bad play, but Cole must have felt the pinch of it every time it was mentioned.

He already took so much on himself—made himself responsible for his team and his family, adopting puppies when she asked and showing up when he was needed—that this additional burden must be crushing him.

“So what does this all mean?” Penny waved her wineglass in a vague gesture over the living room. “Why are you awake at ten o’clock and channeling your inner Dana Scully?”

Hailey laughed, but it was a short-lived sentiment. “Cole took me to visit his dad at the hospital today.”

“Oh wow.” Penny paused. Hailey assumed she was going to say something about what a coup that was for the status of her relationship, that things between them must be getting serious, but what came out of the other woman’s mouth surprised her. “Was that hard? After losing your own father the way you did?”

Hailey could only stare at her. She didn’t recall ever telling Penny—or, indeed, anyone at the office—about her personal history. It wasn’t the sort of thing that came up in the natural course of conversation, and it had never occurred to her to volunteer the information over the water cooler. Not about her father anddefinitelynot about her life before that.

“Don’t look so surprised. I know a lot more about you than you realize.” Penny nuzzled the puppy in her arms. “I mean, I don’t know your exact weight or have a collage of your career highlights, but you can’t work next to a person for six years without figuring a few things out. You’re not a difficult person to read.”

“One-forty,” Hailey replied, somewhat dazed. “And the only career highlight I have is this one.”

Cole Bennett. With the Kickoff Cup Curse. In her living room.

“Well, there you go. Now I know everything.” Penny bumped her with her hip. “Except what happened at the hospital today.”

To be honest, Hailey wasn’t too sure about that herself. Cole hadn’t seemed either surprised or upset when she didn’t invite him over afterward, but that was likely because he was exhausted. After a full day of practice, a visit to the Puppy Cup warehouse, and the emotional upheaval of visiting with his parents and all those kids, it was a wonder he had the energy to keep standing.

But he did. He always did.

“Nothing happened,” Hailey said, more to herself than to Penny. “In fact, he was peak Cole Bennett—the perfect son, a smiling football player, a generous brother.”

“But?” Penny prompted.

“But I’m starting to think that I’m not going to be able to break this curse after all.” Hailey stared at the board in front of her, her heart sinking. She was no statistician, and there was always a chance she’d miscalculated, but she hadn’t been wrong about Cole Bennett yet.

For six years, she’d watched him play football as a way to stay connected to her dad. For six years, she’d counted on him to carry her fantasy team to success. For six years, she’d seen that dimpled, smiling face on television and felt that a world where he existed couldn’t be such a bad place.

He’d given her so much for so long and without even being aware of it. And now that he needed something from her—a boost of luck, a little confidence, a chance to take that one final step to victory—she wasn’t sure she could return the favor.

“I’m starting to think that all the puppies in the world won’t be enough.”

Chapter 16

“How soon is too soon after sex to ask for a favor?”

Cole lay on his back in Hailey’s bed, watching the rise and fall of her head where it lay on his chest. His fingers toyed with the peaked tip of her nipple, his touch teasing and light. He would have liked to stroke her back to arousal for another round, but he didn’t think hecould. There was physical exhaustion, which he knew well, and then there was physical-sexual-emotional-existential exhaustion, which was what being with Hailey seemed to elicit.

Sex with her wasn’t just sex. It was hot as all hell, yes, but it was also a reminder that there was more to the deed than friction and a few well-timed thrusts. Friction and well-timed thrusts could get the job done, obviously, but only if the goal was to get off.