These women knew their football—and their players—an angle Haven hadn’t considered before. But it was in her head now, and it was something she wanted to explore.

“You haven’t said much, Haven,” Felicia said. “I hope we’re not boring you.”

“Quite the contrary, actually. I was listening to all of you talk about football. I don’t know how many of you know this about me, but I’m actually a sports reporter for a network. I’m working with Trevor doing an extensive interview about his life and career.”

Tania raised a brow. “Really? That should be interesting. And informative. And a ton of fun.”

Haven laughed. “It has been—all of those things. Anyway, as I’ve been listening to all of you, it occurred to me that there’s so much about the wives and girlfriends of the players that’s unknown—or possibly misrepresented. You really know your football. All the teams and all the players. I’d love to do a story about all of you.”

Sally frowned. “A story about us? Why?”

“I think you’re all fascinating. Kind of a behind-the-player—or the-woman-behind-the-player type of feature. Even the coaches’ wives as well. I don’t really have it all figured out yet, but you all know so much about football. Not just what your guy does, but you have an in-depth knowledge about the other players on the team, and the other teams Tampa plays. It’s impressive.”

Amanda laughed. “If you’re going to date or marry a football player—or in my case, a coach—you’d better know football. We don’t just go to the mall when our guys are playing football. I love football. I loved the sport before I met George. Having someone involved in football was just icing.”

“That’s true,” Tania said. “I love that Rodney plays football, but I was a sports nut before he and I ever met. My dad played college football, too. It was ingrained in me from childhood.”

And it was those types of human interest stories that would make for a great piece. “If you all are interested, when I’m done with Trevor’s story, I’ll take down your numbers and get back to you.”

They all looked to each other, and she got an immediate positive response.

She thought about the Rivers team as well. Liz, who was a sports agent. Alicia, who also worked for the Rivers. Tara, who owned her own company. So many women rich with experience on their own, but who also knew their players and the team so well.

This could be a great interview.

TREVOR WAS DEEP IN CONVERSATION WITH LARRY, George, and the other receivers, talking strategy and potential plans of attack, when Sally came in with the women.

“Okay, gentlemen. Dinner is ready, so it’s time to take a break. We want to eat before the Thursday night game starts, don’t we?”

Larry raised his head. “Yeah, we sure do, honey. Come on, guys.”

Trevor found Haven in the kitchen. She handed him a plate.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

Her lips tilted. “Very well, actually. How about you?”

“Great. We don’t get a chance during practice to have intense meetings like this. It’s helpful to get away from the field and just talk about how we’re going to approach it.”

“Good to know.”

They found a seat at the dining room table. Trevor ate steak, potatoes, and broccoli. And then went back for more.

“Hungry?” Haven asked.

“A little. Worked up an appetite at practice today.”

“And it’s a good thing you burn it all off at practice, too.”

“It’s how I keep my figure.”

She laughed.

“This is all so delicious,” Haven said to Sally, who was sitting on the other side of her.

“Thank you. We try to do this a couple times a season. It’s good for George to have a sit-down with his receivers. And of course, for all of us women to get together somewhere besides the stadium.”

“I told Sally I wanted to do a piece on the women of football,” Haven said to Trevor.

“The women of football? You mean there aren’t enough guys?” Rodney asked her.

“Oh, there are plenty of you. But your women have interesting stories to tell.”

“Indeed we do,” Tania said with a smile.

“That could be a great angle,” Trevor said.

“I think so,” Haven said. “And speaking of interesting stories, when I was reviewing your bio I noticed you have the Greater Tampa literacy project as one of your charities.”

“I do.”

“I made arrangements for you to do a reading with some of their kids next week as part of the interview. You’ll go in and read to a few of the kids. I think it’ll make for a great human interest piece.”

Trevor’s fork stilled on its way to his mouth. “What?”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Haven,” Allison said. “Several of our guys are invested in this project.”

“Is that right? Maybe some of them could come along and read as well. If you could tell me who they are, I’ll make contact with them and see if they’re interested.”

“I’m sure they will be. All the guys involved with the charity would love to have some focus turned on it. Isn’t that right, Trevor?”

Trevor could barely focus on what Allison and Haven were saying. All he heard was Haven saying they’d film him reading to the kids.

He couldn’t do it.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

His throat had gone dry, his dinner now a brick sitting in his stomach.

He had to find a way to get out of this.

The rest of the night passed in a blur until it was time to say their good-byes. They climbed into the car and Trevor was dead silent on the drive back.

“It was fun tonight, wasn’t it?” Haven finally asked.

“Yeah.”

“I really liked all the women. And I have such a fantastic idea for a new story to present to my producer.”

“That’s good.” He gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the road, the cars ahead of him, trying to keep his attention on driving, while at the same time his mind whirled with ways to get out of what Haven had planned for him.

Fortunately, she’d been busy making notes on her phone, so she stopped talking to him.

He needed time alone. He had to think, to figure a way to back out of this. But how was he going to do that without coming across as a dick?

Damn Haven for putting him in this position. Why couldn’t she have asked him first?

By the time he pulled into the parking garage of the house, he was angry and on edge. He tossed his keys on the counter and went to the fridge to grab a beer.

Haven fixed herself a glass of ice water, then took a seat on the sofa in the living room.

“You were really quiet on the drive back here.”

He took several swallows of beer, not saying anything to her. He needed a minute or two to calm down, hoping the beer would help.

He stopped at the door to the back deck and stared into the darkness, taking another drink of beer.

“Trevor. Is something wrong?”

Anger boiled inside him, looking for a way out. He tried to contain it, but he turned to face her. “You made a decision without consulting me.”

She blinked. “Excuse me? What decision?”

“The literacy event.”

“What about it? I thought you’d be happy.”

He took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t have booked that without consulting me.”

“Why not? Is there some problem with the organization?”

“No. They’re a great organization. That’s why they’re one of the charities I support.”

“Then I don’t understand the problem.”

He saw her frown, and he knew he wasn’t getting his point across.

And he knew why. Because there was something he wasn’t telling her, something he couldn’t tell her without divulging his secret.

He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do it.”

“Okay. Care to explain why?”

“No. Just cancel it.”

He finished his beer and tossed the bottle in the recycling bin. It hadn’t helped, so he grabbed another out of the refrigerator.

Haven got up and came over to him. “Trevor, I can tell you’re upset about this. Talk to me.”

He pushed past her and opened the door to the back deck, needing the cool night air to clear his head. He walked all the way out to the boat dock and sat.

Haven followed, pulling up a spot next to him.

“I’ve never seen you this upset. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Instead, he downed half the contents of his bottle of beer, looking for a solution in oblivion. Maybe if he got drunk, his problem would go away.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I think you should. Tell me why you don’t want to do this story. If it’s something about the facility . . .”

“It’s not the facility. They’re great.”

“Then what is it?”

The last thing he wanted right now was to listen to her calm, concerned voice. He pushed off the dock, needing to get away from Haven. He went into the house, but he heard her right on his heels, quietly shutting the door behind her.

“Not now, Haven,” he said, not even looking at her.

“I’m not going away, Trevor.”

His blood boiling, he whipped around to face her. “Maybe you should.”

The hurt and confusion on her face was evident. “What?”

“I think we’re done here.”

She paused for a second, then shook her head. “Oh, no. You don’t get to push me away that easily. Something’s bothering you, and it has nothing to do with you and me. So tell me what’s up.”

He shook his head. “I’m going to bed.”

He tossed the empty beer bottle in the bin and headed up the stairs, intending to lock himself in his room, cowardly avoiding a confrontation with Haven. But she hurried in front of him on the stairs, blocking him.