Chapter Ten

The late afternoon was perfect. Crisp air and slightly misty. The ground had not totally dried up since the last rains and was a sloppy mess. The adults on the open field played as if they had been transported back in time to childhood.

Fallon ran with the guys, sticking to her man as the football was thrown. These were guys she had known growing up, guys her brothers had known. It was all about camaraderie and enjoying the day.

As her opponent fumbled, Fallon scooped up the ball and began to run as shouts of encouragement from her team resounded through her head, her legs pumping up towards the goal.

Whack!

Two guys tackled her and she went down. She grunted as more weight piled on top of her. Oh, that hurts. Fallon was laughing and spitting out dirt as she felt more people pile on.

“Come on, get off,” her muffled voice cried.

Slowly, they did. Fallon shoved the football away from her gut and shook her head. Using her arms, she pushed herself up off the muddy ground. She wiped the back of her hand across her face and sighed at the feel of the mud sliding over her skin.

Dried and fresh mud caked her clothes; her breath was visible in the early evening air. “Was there any reason everyone felt the need to pile on me?” she asked as both sides approached the line of scrimmage.

The man facing her on the line—Charlie, a muscular black man–said, “We liked being on top of you.”

She narrowed her eyes at the laughter that filled the field. “I see how it is,” Fallon spat. Pointing at the man across from her, she bared her teeth. “Let’s play.”

***

Ian watched the rough, muddy, and fun-filled game of football. The game was a tradition, the last Saturday of the month; everyone who was around came to play. These were guys he had gone to school with, yet he still held back.

His gaze skimmed over the guys he knew well. Then he stared at the male Maddoxes before regarding Fallon. Fallon, who looked nothing like he pictured her in his head. She wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. She wasn’t just dirty; the woman was downright filthy.

But that wasn’t all. Not only was she caked from head to toe with mud, but she had a smile on her face. His knees knocked at the effect that smile had on him. Such a simple act made her so intensely gorgeous to him. The more he watched, the more enamored he knew he was becoming with her. True, there were other women playing, but none could begin to compare to her in his opinion. Her movements, her grace. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Cavanaugh!” a voice hollered. Ian recognized it as Shawn’s. “You playin’ or are you too good to play with a Maddox?”

Ian reluctantly looked away from Fallon. “I’ll play,” he shouted back.

“Good. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Shawn cracked his knuckles and rolled his head around. “You can be across from me.”

Ian nodded sharply as he took his place across from Shawn Maddox. This man could pummel me. Crouching forward, he waited for the snap. His eyes drifted down to where Fallon was.

Wham!

Ian was flat on his back, looking up at a smirking group of Maddox men. Ouch. That’s gonna hurt. Taking the offered hand, he stood and tried to work out the kink.

“Should pay attention to the game, Cavanaugh,” Clay warned.

This time he’d be ready. “Yes, I should.” His voice was low.

A few snaps later, Ian was in the mud for the fourth time. While he’d been blocking Shawn, Clayborne had tackled him, delivering a knee to his groin on the way down.

Stars flickered before his eyes. Ian grunted as he hit the ground. Clay maybe shorter but he was built like a brick shithouse.

“You okay, Cavanaugh, or do you need a doughnut break?” Clay sneered.

Ian could feel the rumble growing in his chest. Enough of this shit. He didn’t understand why it bothered him so much to see Fallon act pleased that her brothers were singling him out. Yet, he couldn’t help but admire the twinkle in her eyes. Damn, I’ve got it bad.

He frowned as a blonde woman was set opposite him. He didn’t recognize her, but knew it was meant as an insult from the Maddox men. Apparently the men were too much for him to handle.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey,” Ian replied as he waited for the snap.

“You single?” she asked. “Who cares? Wanna fuck?”

Ian didn’t believe his ears. “What?” he stuttered. And just like that, Ian almost missed another snap. Almost being the key word. All the blonde offered vanished like a puff of smoke the second he watched Herschel hand the ball off to Fallon.

In a flash, he was after her. Damn, she’s fast. With determination, Ian poured on the speed. As she glanced behind her and saw him, she grinned mockingly and ran faster.

Not this time. Ian charged up the field after her and dove for her. He hit her square and tried to turn them so he’d take the brunt of the contact with the ground. It didn’t work, she hit first.

“Umph!” she grunted after she landed.

Momentarily, Ian remained where he was on top of her. He liked this. Woman feels great beneath me.

“You okay?” he asked as he rolled off her. She got up slow, still holding the ball.

“Yeah.” She grimaced. “You’re no lightweight, that’s for sure.”

“Sorry. I tried to roll but it didn’t work.”

The rest of the group came up. Her brothers surrounded her. Ian noticed they teased her about not being able to outrun him.

Again, Ian was bothered by the fact Fallon Maddox seemed content to ignore him. She tossed the ball to the center and retook her position.

Ian focused on the game. It got rough, stayed fun, but he sensed the undertone of anger that rolled in his direction from the Maddox males. Each brother got in cheap shots, but Ian wasn’t a punk; he delivered a few of his own as well.

Tired, cold, wet, and sore when it ended, Ian stole glances at Fallon, who stood chatting with three others like there wasn’t mud all over her body and in her hair.

“Cavanaugh.” A voice drew his attention from Fallon.

It was Shawn.

“Shawn,” Ian said. “Good game.”

Dark, shrewd eyes observed him. “Yeah. Tell me something,” Shawn ordered as he stood beside him. “Is it the blonde or my sister that you keep looking at?”

Ian brushed off his hands. “Is that any of your business?”

“Yes.”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He began to walk away.

Shawn clamped a strong hand around his arm to stop him. “Listen to me, Ian. I’m telling you this as the only warning. We heard about The Crabpot and your captain. Next time we won’t be so polite about our displeasure.”

Abruptly he was released and the ex-pro football player walked off.

So polite? He would swear he’d been run over by a convoy of eighteen-wheelers. Damn it all. I’m a grown man and I’m not about to cower to a woman’s brothers.

Suddenly the animosity between cops and the Maddox clan appeared even less appealing. Dealing with overprotective brothers would be bad in a normal situation. However, adding the hatred between his brothers in blue and her family only compounded and added fuel to the already raging flames.

It’s like the damn Capulets and Montagues.

Ian grinned. He was stubborn, hardheaded, and a slew of other things. Scared wasn’t one of them. He headed over to where Fallon stood. He needed to talk to her, partially due to pride and the desire to provoke her family, but also because he couldn’t stay away.

“Fallon,” Ian said, watching her face.