In the Red Zone Read online

  “Jesus, Frank, are you a magnet for trouble?” Adam paused. “It says here that two people were sent to the hospital.”

  “I didn’t hit them that hard.” But part of him was glad to learn those creeps needed medical attention. Hopefully, they’d learn not to mess with Kiana again.

  “Frank.” His brother said his name like a plea to behave. “According to the article, one of them was the gunman.”

  “That would be Kiana’s ex.”

  “Shit! You got into a fight with a man with a gun? What kind of hot-headed idiot are you?”

  Frank collapsed on his oversize couch and stared at the ceiling. “He tried to pull the gun out mid-fight, but Kiana knocked it out of his hand.”

  “So the woman was involved in the fight, too? That’s a first for you.”

  He grinned. Maybe Kiana wasn’t a complete damsel in distress. She’d had his back when it counted. “Listen, the fight itself doesn’t matter. I’m safe, and the good news is, Kiana managed to get the charges dropped.”

  Another pause answered him. “And you somehow managed to stay out of the media this time.”

  That was a first. He’d been booked, which meant any of the scumbags trolling the jail’s records would’ve been able to find his name. Maybe her connections were more extensive than he first thought.

  “But the gunman was some kind of celebrity. A rapper called King Mal.”

  Frank snorted. That prick would call himself King Mal. “And he’ll be the one facing charges, not me.”

  “Looks like it.” A squeak came from the background, and Frank imagined Adam leaning back in his desk chair. “So, is that the only reason you called? To brag about putting two men in the hospital without getting arrested?”

  “More like reassure you that I’m fine. I know how you worry.”

  “I’m going to be as gray as Dad was before I’m forty.”

  “And you and Lia don’t even have kids yet.”

  “That’s because I’m too busy trying to take care of all my little brothers.” A wistful note filled Adam’s voice. Frank knew his eldest brother and his wife wanted kids. If Adam had his way, he’d have a brood as large as their parents had. “What else did you want to tell me?”

  “Kiana asked if I’d be willing to give an endorsement for the foundation she runs, and I wanted to do a little digging before I agree to it.”

  “Want me to have Cully do some snooping?” Adam replied, dropping the name of the private investigator his business had used on more than one occasion.

  “Not that extreme. More like I want your opinion. It’s the Marshall Dyer Foundation.”

  A few more clicks of the keyboard. “Looks legit. And I remember how you idolized Dyer when you were a kid.”

  “Yeah.”

  The way he drawled out the word must’ve revealed his hesitations because Adam asked, “So what’s the holdup?”

  “The woman in charge.”

  “Expecting more gun fights?”

  “More like wondering how I’ll be able to remain professional around her. She seems to think staging a fake relationship between us will help draw attention to the foundation, but I don’t want to cross the line. And I know I’ll be tempted to when I’m near her.”

  Adam chuckled. “Thinking of the consequences before you act for once. I’m impressed. And I’m looking at her picture right now. Not bad.”

  “Not bad?” Frank sat up. “Are you blind? She’s gorgeous.”

  “Sorry, but my tastes tend toward petite Italian women,” Adam replied with more light-hearted laughter.

  “You see my dilemma, though, right? Plus, she’s Tre’s sister, and I already got the don’t go there vibe from him.”

  “But…?”

  Frank slouched back against the sofa again and ran his finger through his short hair. “But I’m stuck trying to decide if I want to risk working that close to her.”

  “You left out one important detail.”

  “What’s that?”

  “What kind of signals are you getting from her?”

  “No fucking clue.” The frustration in his voice matched what he’d felt last night when she’d turned down his invitation to stay with him. He’d seen enough to know she’d be a hard one to win over, but worth it. “Mixed signals at best. I mean, it was her idea to play the part of my fake girlfriend, so she can’t find me that repulsive.”

  “Hmm.” He could almost picture Adam rubbing his chin in thought. “Why does she want to pursue a fake relationship?”

  “She thinks it will draw more attention to the foundation. And she mentioned that being seen with someone like her might help clean up my image, as well.”

  “True, but there might be a way to work this in your favor.”

  Frank grinned. He knew his big brother would come through. “I’m all ears.”

  Chapter Four

  Kiana stared at the mockups on her computer screen. They were for an ad that would run in the Atlanta Journal Constitution this Sunday announcing the gala and silent auction fundraiser for the foundation, but all her attempts seemed to fall short of what she needed, and they were due this afternoon.

  She pressed her fingers against her temples. What little funds she had were dedicated to the event and paying her lone staff member until then. She couldn’t afford to hire some swanky PR firm to handle this for her. Hell, she’d be lucky to break even, based on the meager number of tickets they’d sold. She needed to get the media’s attention, and she’d hoped Frank would’ve agreed to help her, but so far, almost a week had passed without a word from him or his representative.

  She was almost tempted to ask Tre to give Frank a nudge, but the possible repercussions held her back. First off, Tre would be pissed she wasn’t asking for his endorsement. Their relationship had been strained, at best, since she’d moved in with their dad more than fifteen years ago. Despite his seemingly loving words, she’d always caught a hint of resentment from him. The tension only worsened after their father had died and she’d received a sizable inheritance.

  Second, she’d seen the silent warning her brother had given Frank. As if she needed her little brother to intervene in her nonexistent love life. She’d walked on the wild side, but she’d learned her lesson far too well.

  Don’t play with a player.

  And Frank Kelly was every inch a player. The man oozed both sex and charm. If she hadn’t already been aware of his reputation, he probably would’ve gotten her out of her panties before the night was done. As it was, it had been hard enough to turn down his invitation to stay at his place Saturday night. She’d seen what the man could do with his hips on the dance floor, and she could only imagine what he was capable of doing in the bedroom.

  Watch it, girl. You know what kind of trouble men like him can be.

  Especially men who knew how to hit.

  So why on earth had she been crazy enough to propose that whole fake relationship thing? It was just asking for trouble. But she’d been desperate and decided to use his attraction to her to her advantage and entice him to her cause. The more time she spent with him, the more she’d be able to sell him on endorsing her foundation. At least she’d been upfront from the start that it wouldn’t go anywhere.

  She massaged her temples, taking care not to press too hard on her right side. The swelling had disappeared from her cheek, but the tenderness still lingered. Thankfully, she’d already had enough practice covering bruises with makeup.

  A knock sounded at her door, and her assistant, Sherita, poked her head in. “Kiana, Frank Kelly is here to see you.”

  Her stomach twisted, and her pulse kicked into overdrive. “He is?”

  Sherita nodded, a knowing grin appearing on her lips.

  Kiana stared at the disarray in her desk and made a mad attempt to organize it. Then she ran her hands over her hair. “How do I look?”

  Her assistant came in and closed the door behind her. “Flustered.”

  She leaned back in her desk chair. “Not good.
”

  “But perfectly understandable.” Sherita fanned herself and acted like she was blowing out a flame.

  Yeah, Frank Kelly was hot, and she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  Kiana laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Let him in.”

  “Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t mind the view from my desk.”

  She continued to laugh, but nodded. “Yeah, but how much work do you think you’d get done with him standing there?”

  “None.” Sherita grinned but stepped back out to fetch Frank.

  Kiana used those final seconds to check her reflection in the hand mirror she kept in her desk drawer. Not perfect, but at least she didn’t have any lipstick on her teeth.

  Her gaze fell on the framed picture of her daughter on the corner of her desk as the door opened. She snatched it and tucked it into the drawer along with her mirror. She’d managed to keep her out of the spotlight since her birth and she intended to keep it that way.

  Frank ambled into her office, and her breath hitched. She’d thought he’d been sexy in the club, but today took it to a whole other level. Hot didn’t begin to describe him. The gray Notre Dame T-shirt clung to the well-defined muscles of his upper arms and broad chest, while his jeans molded his ass in a way that practically begged her to squeeze it.

  “Hey there, lovely lady,” he greeted with a wink and grin.

  His flirtatious behavior broke her awe, and she found her voice. “What took you so long?”

  “I had to make sure I was beautiful enough to grace your presence, especially if you had posing for pictures in mind.” He touched the eye that had been swollen shut Saturday night. Only a faint yellow tinge remained of the bruise.

  More like he was playing mind games with her. Men were like that. It was no different when they asked for her number and then waited a week to call. At least she knew where she stood with him.

  She pushed back from her desk and crossed her legs, noting the way his gaze fell to them. Silent laughter filled her mind. He could play mind games, but she still had the upper hand.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” she asked.

  “I’m in.” He sat in the chair across from her, his massive build making the chair appear smaller than it was, and crossed his arms. “But once I commit to something, I’m not content unless I’m giving it a hundred and ten percent. And I have a few ideas that may give the foundation even more exposure.”

  “Such as?”

  “Let’s start with lunch.”

  Her pulse kicked up a notch. “Lunch?”

  He nodded, his grin widening. “It is noon, in case you failed to notice.”

  The grumbling in her stomach answered. “I suppose we could discuss this over lunch.”

  “Perfect.” He bounced up from the chair like a kid hearing the recess bell. “I took the liberty of making reservations down the street. You up for a walk?”

  “How far?” She glanced down at her heels and wondered if they’d be up to the challenge.

  He named a restaurant a block away.

  Her mouth watered. One of her favorite places to eat in Atlanta. “I’m there.”

  She grabbed her purse and waved to Sherita on the way out of the small office she rented in Midtown. Maybe once the foundation got bigger, they could afford more room and a larger staff, but at the moment, it was a two-woman show.

  Frank’s hand fell to the small of her back as they got on the elevator, and a shiver coursed through her. His hand was warm, but possessive. And although her body welcomed his touch, her mind urged caution.

  Focus on business. “So, what did you want to discuss over lunch?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

  “A surefire way to make sure everyone knows about your father’s foundation.”

  Something about the twinkle in his blue eyes made her stomach flip. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

  “Sorry, but it’s as natural as breathing to me.”

  Uh-huh. And all the more reason why she should stay away. Of course, it didn’t help that the close proximity allowed her to catch a whiff of his spicy cologne. It was clean, yet masculine. Something she could enjoy breathing in all night as they wrestled under the covers.

  The elevator opened on the ground floor, and she darted out, anxious to get a few feet between them.

  He caught up to her with a few easy strides. “Do I need to spoil the fun by acting serious for once?”

  “That would be helpful.” Both for me and my sanity.

  “Anything to help a woman as lovely as yourself.”

  She found herself laughing. Maybe he couldn’t stop flirting.

  His teasing grin widened. “Laughter always eases the tension.” His face grew a tad more solemn as he added, “So it’s just you and Sherita running things?”

  She nodded. “I’m hoping the fundraiser will allow us to hire more staff, but she’s all I can afford at the moment. As it stands now, we’re already overwhelmed. School budgets keep getting cut, and requests to replace wornout pads and helmets keep piling up.”

  “The kids deserve better.”

  “Damn right they do.” For a moment, she forgot about the sexy man beside her and got lost in what had become her mission. “All this evidence is coming out about the long-term effects of concussions in athletes, yet they can’t even give a peewee player a proper helmet. And don’t even get me started about the sorry-ass equipment we’ve seen at some of the local high schools. Those guys hit hard, and we’ve been seeing an alarming rise in injuries, especially at some of the inner city schools that lack the Roswell budgets.”

  She paused to catch her breath and look up at Frank. Gone was the cheeky flirt. In his place stood a genuinely engaged man who watched her with something akin to admiration in his eyes.

  “You’re very passionate about this, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

  She nodded, her throat choking up from a memory. “Just like my daddy was.”

  “Then I’ll do all I can to help.” He tucked one of her flyaway curls behind her ear.

  His touch was so light, so gentle, so unexpected from the man who’d sent Malcolm to the hospital with his fists. Again, her mind urged caution, warring with the warmth stirring in her veins. Experience had taught her to avoid men who were the dangerous combination of charming and violent.

  She took a step back and resumed walking toward the restaurant. “What’s this surefire way to gain some attention for the foundation?”

  “Establishing a subtle connection before I make the official endorsement.”

  “Oh?” The spark of intelligence behind his words intrigued her. Maybe there was more to him than just the stereotypical dumb jock.

  “You and I appear in public together starting right now to make people wonder if we’re dating. Share a few meals, a few kisses, maybe hint at a private sleepover. Then, after a couple of weeks, I’ll gladly plaster my name and likeness on anything you need.”

  For the second time in less than a block, she halted. “And you think that’s going to work like that?”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and urged her along. “It was your idea, not mine. No time like the present. After all, those kids need proper equipment.”

  Of course he’d use the kids as leverage. “But to be clear, we’re not dating.”

  His bottom lip jutted out into a smoldering pout that captivated her, distracting her and allowing him to wrap his other arm around her waist and pull her closer. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to reconsider?”

  For a brief second, she allowed herself to indulge in the warmth of his embrace, in the sparks of desire that flared between them. It was the dance floor all over again. Her voice cracked in a final plea that belied her crumbling resistance. “Frank…”

  “Fine,” he said, brushing his lips against her forehead in a feather-light kiss before he let her go. “I’ll behave.”

  She released the breath she never realized she’d been holding. The man was proving to be more seduc
tive than she’d first imagined.

  He opened the door to the restaurant and gave his name to the hostess. A minute later, they were being shown to their table with a crowd of gazes following them. But then, what should she expect when she was in the presence of someone like Frank Kelly? If his size and bright red hair didn’t attract attention, then his sheer charisma did. The man lit up a room as much as he electrified the football field. People noticed him.

  Maybe her idea of the two of them appearing in public had some merit after all. She never got this much attention when she entered a room by herself.

  He chose the seat beside her instead of sitting across from her. Once the server took their orders, he leaned in toward her. “So, now that you know you have my unwavering support, what do you say we enjoy getting to know each other?”

  “You mean like on a date?”

  “Did I call it that?” he asked in mock innocence.

  She rolled her eyes with a smile. She had to give him points for persistence.

  “Remember, this was all your idea.” He took a long drink of sweet tea. “Are you older or younger than Tre?”

  “Eight months older.” She fed off his carefree air and added, “You could say we’re Irish twins.”

  His grin widened. “I’ve got one of those myself. There’s eleven months between me and Gideon. I think my parents raised the white flag after that.”

  “If I was your mama, I would’ve raised the white flag after you.”

  “Yeah, I kind of broke the mold. I’m sure if she had to do it again, she’d just have me and none of my other brothers.”

  He was so full of himself, yet in a self-deprecating way. She liked the mixture of confidence tempered with a hint of humility and found herself drawn to him even more. “Are you saying you’re her favorite?”

  “Is there any doubt?”

  The playful banter continued throughout the meal as he shared stories about his childhood. After they ordered dessert, he grew silent and studied her with his head tilted slightly. “Forgive me if I’m treading on something you don’t want to talk about, but what’s the story with you and Tre?”