Play for Keeps
by Maggie Welss
Series: Love Games, #2
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 3, 2018
Mixing business and pleasure is a dangerous game…
Tyrell Ransom, the new men’s basketball coach, is ready to whip his team into shape and start winning some games. But when compromising photos of his soon-to-be-ex-wife with one of his players go viral, everything comes crashing down. With reporters thick on the ground, Ty and his team need some serious damage control—now.
When public relations guru Millie Jenkins arrives in her leopard-print cape to save the day, things really heat up... Soon they’re going to have to work double time to keep their white-hot chemistry out of the headlines.
“Wow. You really suck at the sympathy thing.”
Millie had the good grace to grimace. “I’ve never been very touchy-feely.”
Ty cocked his head. “I’m surprised.”
“Are you?”
He took a half step closer. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to shy away from anything.”
Proved how much he knew about her. It was all she could do to hold her ground. Not because she was scared of him. More that she might not be able to keep her own impulses in check. Ty Ransom was not only tall, built, and too handsome for his own good, but he was sweet and funny in a self-deprecating way that more successful jocks never quite mastered. A flutter of nerves tightened her belly.
Flattening her hand on her midriff to quell the internal uprising, she plastered her public relations smile on her face. “Well, I do like a good fight.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“That’s why I’m here. We don’t have to let the press run this thing. Take control of your message instead of spouting off. Make the story the one you want to tell.”
“I don’t see what there is to control,” he said with feigned nonchalance. “My wife left me for a first-round draft pick. Can hardly blame the woman for upgrading, can you?”
“Well, truthfully—”
“He’s got two working knees, more vertical lift than I had on my best day, and according to our good friend Brittany at NSN”—he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he referred to the perky blond reporter from the sports network—“charisma.” He nodded to the darkened screen, then shrugged. “God knows Brittany would know.”
“Brittany doesn’t know squat.”
He guffawed. “You do have a way with words.” He crossed to the wet bar and plucked another clean glass from the shelf. “You’re hired.”
“Thanks, but I already have a job.”
“See? You don’t even want me,” he muttered as he pulled the stopper off a decanter. “Charisma,” he growled. “Don’t think I ever had any, even when I had game.”
She hated this. Hated seeing this proud, cocky man lose his swagger over a woman who was little more than a piece of dandelion fluff. Sucking in a deep breath, she approached with caution. “Ty—”
“My game was okay one-on-one.” This time, he sloshed three fingers of whiskey into the glass and sucked a few droplets from the back of his hand before replacing the stopper. “Took a lot of English classes in school, so I could quote poetry and shit.” He picked up the glass and stared hard at its contents, then took a healthy slug. He didn’t even gasp as the liquor went down. “Girls always liked that.”
She placed a gentle hand on the center of his back. “Don’t.”
He stiffened, then slowly lowered the glass to the bar. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t downplay who you are. Don’t brush off everything you’ve accomplished.”
Millie had the good grace to grimace. “I’ve never been very touchy-feely.”
Ty cocked his head. “I’m surprised.”
“Are you?”
He took a half step closer. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to shy away from anything.”
Proved how much he knew about her. It was all she could do to hold her ground. Not because she was scared of him. More that she might not be able to keep her own impulses in check. Ty Ransom was not only tall, built, and too handsome for his own good, but he was sweet and funny in a self-deprecating way that more successful jocks never quite mastered. A flutter of nerves tightened her belly.
Flattening her hand on her midriff to quell the internal uprising, she plastered her public relations smile on her face. “Well, I do like a good fight.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“That’s why I’m here. We don’t have to let the press run this thing. Take control of your message instead of spouting off. Make the story the one you want to tell.”
“I don’t see what there is to control,” he said with feigned nonchalance. “My wife left me for a first-round draft pick. Can hardly blame the woman for upgrading, can you?”
“Well, truthfully—”
“He’s got two working knees, more vertical lift than I had on my best day, and according to our good friend Brittany at NSN”—he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he referred to the perky blond reporter from the sports network—“charisma.” He nodded to the darkened screen, then shrugged. “God knows Brittany would know.”
“Brittany doesn’t know squat.”
He guffawed. “You do have a way with words.” He crossed to the wet bar and plucked another clean glass from the shelf. “You’re hired.”
“Thanks, but I already have a job.”
“See? You don’t even want me,” he muttered as he pulled the stopper off a decanter. “Charisma,” he growled. “Don’t think I ever had any, even when I had game.”
She hated this. Hated seeing this proud, cocky man lose his swagger over a woman who was little more than a piece of dandelion fluff. Sucking in a deep breath, she approached with caution. “Ty—”
“My game was okay one-on-one.” This time, he sloshed three fingers of whiskey into the glass and sucked a few droplets from the back of his hand before replacing the stopper. “Took a lot of English classes in school, so I could quote poetry and shit.” He picked up the glass and stared hard at its contents, then took a healthy slug. He didn’t even gasp as the liquor went down. “Girls always liked that.”
She placed a gentle hand on the center of his back. “Don’t.”
He stiffened, then slowly lowered the glass to the bar. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t downplay who you are. Don’t brush off everything you’ve accomplished.”
Also in the Series
By day, MAGGIE WELLS is buried in spreadsheets. At night she pens tales of people tangling up the sheets. The product of a charming rogue and a shameless flirt, you only have to scratch the surface of this mild-mannered married lady to find a naughty streak a mile wide. She has a passion for college football, processed cheese foods, and happy endings. Not necessarily in that order. She lives in Arkansas.
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