Cami’s Georgia Patriots Romance Collection Read online

  The audience went crazy, clapping, screaming how beautiful she was. Sariah waited until they quieted and then she tried to explain better, “Every woman is a unique beauty. Don’t compare yourself or concentrate on what isn’t perfect about you. Shine with your own beauty.”

  The audience freaked out again, but Sariah was too busy staring at Mack. He tugged her close and kissed her, which made the audience go even more nuts.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Thanks for that.”

  He laughed, and ignoring the talk show host trying to question them, kissed her again.

  * * *

  Don’t miss the rest of the Quinn family series:

  The Devoted Groom

  The Conflicted Warrior

  The Gentle Patriot

  The Tough Warrior

  Her Too-Perfect Boss

  Her Forbidden Bodyguard

  Author’s Note

  Twelve years ago I amputated three of my fingers with a lawnmower. I was, of course, daydreaming up a story and stuck my fingers right into the blade. My poor mom and husband!

  I thought I’d always feel awkward and embarrassed of my deformed fingers, but the love of my husband and help from above made me realize that I am loved and accepted no matter what happens to my exterior. I pray every one of us can realize that we may not appear perfect but we are beautiful in our own way, each of us has unique talents, and we can bless lives by focusing outside ourselves.

  Much love,

  Cami

  The Stranded Patriot

  Chapter One

  Ally Heathrow darted around massive men in tailored suits and beautiful women in designer dresses, bent on finding one particular Georgia Patriots football player in the middle of this mansion full of them. Bucky Buchanan, the eccentric owner of the Patriots, had explained that as the new head of the Patriots’ marketing team, Ally was to come to his party this weekend, track down one Preston Steele, wide receiver extraordinaire, and talk him into being their poster child for her social media idea. Bucky had reiterated that she couldn’t force him—social media wasn’t in Preston’s contract—but in Bucky’s words, “Gentle persuasion by a gorgeous woman isn’t unethical.”

  Preston had been her first choice, luckily, because no one told Bucky no. He was a good old Southern boy with a whole bucketful of charm. From a marketing perspective, he was marketing gold but also a nightmare. He said and did whatever he wanted. She’d tried to tell him repeatedly he couldn’t objectify her, or anyone else, as a “gorgeous woman.” His compliments didn’t mean much to her as she’d never been, nor would ever be, the “gorgeous woman,” but he kept giving them.

  She spotted Preston Steele talking to Mike Kohler next to an open patio door. The air conditioning was running on this warm early summer night, but they’d left the doors open so the party could flow from the banquet room onto the spectacular manicured yard and flower gardens of Bucky’s estate in Marietta, Georgia.

  Preston and Mike. Now that was a beautiful pair of men that would stop any woman in her tracks. She smiled to herself. Who was objectifying now? But heaven help her, it was rough not to notice. Preston had wavy, brown hair, olive-tinged skin, deep brown eyes, manly but sculpted lips, and the perfect length of facial hair. Mike had tightly curled black hair, smooth, deep brown skin, almost black eyes, and full lips. Mike was a couple inches taller than Preston’s six-four. They both had well-honed muscles evident under their fitted tuxes.

  She smoothed down her pale blue dress. Her naturally tanned skin was exposed by the dress’s off-the-shoulder style, and she prayed the dress didn’t look as painted-on as it felt. She wasn’t one-hundred percent comfortable in the tight dress with the daring neckline. Her long dark hair was in a pile of curls on top of her head, which the makeup artist said gave full advantage to her “curvy” features. Curvy was a very kind way of putting it. She’d been downright chubby as a teenager, and though she tried hard to be healthy, thin was never a descriptor anyone had given her.

  Her little sister, Kim, was a Hollywood star and was all dimples in her beautiful face and skinny but shapely. Ally’s entire childhood and teenage years had been spent helping Kim succeed. Ally’s twin sister, Shar, looked a lot like Kim, and everyone sang their praises. Ally’s mom kept telling her she was a successful, talented, and driven woman, yet her parents had never once told her she was attractive. It would’ve been a lie, but didn’t parents naturally think their children were cute? Not hers, apparently. She knew they loved her and were proud of her. That’s what she chose to focus on.

  As Ally sidled in Mike and Preston’s direction, she tried to decide if she could play this out like Bucky had demanded. She wanted to stride right up to Preston, tell him the idea she was already passionate about, and simply let him accept or reject it. Bucky had told her explicitly not to do that or she’d lose their one shot. He wanted her to lure Preston to the gardens, flirt with him, warm him up to her, and ease him into her scheme. The idea was laughable. Ally couldn’t flirt with the likes of Preston Steele. If there was a list of most attractive and eligible bachelors in the nation, he was on it. After a few rejections from boys as a young teen, she’d put her head down and worked, using her mind, her determination, and her smart-aleck tongue to be successful at school and her career. She’d never attempted to learn the art of flirting.

  Straightening her shoulders, she reminded herself that she had earned her job as head marketing manager for the Patriots, after her uncle connected her with Bucky. She was somebody, and she had a job to do. Plus she’d paid a lot of money to look as attractive as possible tonight. Now to pray that it worked.

  She’d almost reached them when Preston glanced her direction and the world around her disappeared. Their gazes locked, and she was lost in the delicious indulgence of chocolate brown. His beautifully sculpted face had nothing on the power of his warm gaze. Never in her life had a man looked at her like that. Swaying on her heels, she prayed hard for inspiration. How to get him alone and beg him to help her, without falling prey to his charm or his handsome face. After Googling him constantly over the past few weeks, she’d learned that a man like Preston gave hundreds of women looks like that, women who were tall, thin models. At least he appeared interested and not repelled by her. That could work in her favor. For marketing, that was.

  She tried to bat her eyelashes and give him what she hoped was a come-hither look, but she had no clue if she’d done it right. She’d only seen those kinds of looks on television, never practiced them out on anyone.

  Preston didn’t break away from Mike and stride purposefully her direction. Not that she was surprised. She took a few stuttering steps his way, focusing on those deep brown eyes, and ran into someone’s back. The contents of the guy’s drink went flying, but luckily the liquid didn’t hit anyone but the floor.

  “For the sake of Pete,” Ally muttered under her breath.

  The man she’d smacked into turned around in surprise, but his face quickly transformed into a wide grin.

  “Apologies,” Ally said.

  “No worries, but it seems I’ve lost my drink. Would you like to join me for a refill?”

  “No, but thank you for being a chill cucumber about it.”

  He laughed. “Just one drink?”

  “Maybe next time.”

  He held up his empty glass to her. She bowed slightly and turned away, focusing on Preston again. She could do this. She could do this. Confident woman, that was her. Confident in her hard work ethic, not her alluring smile. She was going to be sick.

  Aiming what she hoped was a flirtatious smile at Preston and discreetly tilting her head toward the patio, she strutted away from the guy she’d hit and straight past Preston and Mike. She drew close enough to brush Preston’s arm with hers, and she got distracted by his vanilla and sandalwood cologne. Oh, wow. Did all men smell that good? When she glanced over her shoulder, he was following her with his eyes. She tried to wink but failed as both eyes temporar
ily closed. Goodness’ sakes that was awkward.

  Easing out the side door, she was pretty sure the most desperate guy in Georgia wouldn’t have gone for her weird little display. Hopefully the witnesses to her awkward flirting were few. Hopefully she could find Preston alone later tonight and march up to him without any stupid games, like she’d wanted to do all along. Why did she listen to Bucky? He was only her boss and she only loved her job.

  The patio wasn’t as crowded as the house, but there were still too many people for her to have the private conversation she wanted to have with Preston, if some miracle occurred and he followed her. Not knowing what else to do, she sauntered across the patio toward the flower gardens, hoping beyond hope that he’d follow her. She discreetly looked back, and her stomach hopped when she saw Preston’s broad shoulders clear the doorframe. He was focused on her and moving fast her direction. Oh my goodness, it had actually worked. Yes! The makeover she’d paid for today must’ve been better than she thought. When she’d looked in the mirror, she’d simply seen the same rounded cheeks with a lot more makeup on, but it appeared Preston thought she was attractive enough to follow.

  She debated stopping and waiting for him, but she wanted to make sure they were alone and out of earshot of anyone to have this conversation. There was also an undeniable thrill that she’d never experienced, being trailed by this powerful and handsome man. She reached the flower garden, and the heady scents of clematis, roses, and wisteria combined to make the moment feel even more mysterious and romantic.

  Romantic? Stop it, Ally, she commanded herself. She wasn’t here for romance; she was here for work, and it was guaranteed that Preston had no romantic intentions toward her. The way she’d felt when Preston met her gaze and then trailed her with his eyes was messing with her usually rational brain. She stopped underneath a canopy of trees and turned to face him.

  Preston had a slight smile as he approached her. The way he filled out that tux made her stomach swirl with heat, and she clamped a hand to her abdomen. Had she ever been this close to a man this appealing? Be calm, be professional.

  “Hello, Preston Steele,” she said in a cool voice as if she had nothing riding on this conversation. Only her job, and the fabulous and charitable social media campaign that was her brainchild. Being attracted to Preston Steele could not factor in.

  “Hello, Alyandra Heathrow.”

  “Ally,” she automatically corrected. Arching an eyebrow, she found herself easing closer to him. “You know who I am?” That made more sense. He’d followed her because he was intrigued that the marketing person wanted to talk to him. Of course he didn’t want to talk to her personally.

  A slow grin grew on his face, making his cheek crinkle and robbing the oxygen from her lungs. Curse Preston Steele’s appeal. She had never allowed herself to be affected by any man. How was Preston yanking her in so easily? The only thing that should matter to her was using his appeal to bring happiness to those going through rough times and in turn sell out the stadium, a harder feat this year with their newly inflated ticket prices.

  “I know who you are.” He also stepped closer, and his firm chest brushed her bare shoulder.

  The suit coat buffered the impact, but Ally hadn’t dated since middle school, and the contact thrilled her from her head to her painted toenails. She sucked in a breath and felt her heart thump faster.

  “Head of marketing,” Preston said. “The woman most of us try to avoid.”

  Ally blinked up at him. Avoid? Ouch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not a rookie, Miss Heathrow. If you’re giving me come-hither glances and brushing against me in a crowded ballroom, you’re on a mission for Bucky. The question is, what do you and Bucky want from me?”

  She’d let herself foolishly believe he’d followed her out here because he was drawn to her. Stupid female feelings and fantasies. Focus on work. “I need you …” She paused and tried to think how to phrase it.

  “You need me.” His voice dropped, and its husky quality sent tremors through her body.

  Their gazes got tangled up and she found herself being drawn closer to him, inch by inch. She could smell his delicious cologne, and the sheer power and draw of this man made her feel feminine and desirable and beautiful. It was all so unfamiliar and thrilling. Was he truly attracted to her? She knew he dated a plethora of rail-thin women. She wasn’t his type, at all.

  She didn’t need him for her; she needed him for marketing. As her body eased toward his and she stared into his deep brown eyes, she couldn’t have told you her mother’s maiden name, let alone what her purpose was for miraculously leading this breathtaking man out into the gardens.

  When they were inches apart and she was gasping for air at the meaningful look in his eyes, praying he’d reach out to her, he murmured, “You need me personally, or you need me because you’re Bucky’s lackey?”

  That snapped her back to reality. Of course she didn’t need him personally, and even if she did, she could never hope to have a man like this interested in her. Also, she was nobody’s lackey. “Can we walk?” she said, as breathy as a teenage girl.

  “Sure.” His eyes trailed over her, and she was going to need blood pressure medication if he didn’t stop being so appealing.

  She pivoted and started down the trail, plunging deeper into the thickening foliage and away from the house, cursing the heels that made her not able to move faster. For five months she’d saved up to buy these heels, hoping they’d give her confidence for parties that she’d need to attend for her job. Parties exactly like this one. Her first, and only, Christian Louboutins. Hopefully this path wouldn’t damage the outrageously expensive shoes. Right now she needed distance from Preston’s probing gazes and irresistible cologne. Sandalwood, vanilla, and … was there a hint of bourbon in there? What brand was his cologne anyway?

  Enough! She had to stop sniffing him and staring at him. Concentrate, Ally. It was time to commit him to her marketing plan and get back to work. Far away from his … deliciousness.

  Chapter Two

  As Ally walked through the garden, Preston fell into step beside her, casting glances at her every so often. He was silent, and she had no clue what to say.

  She was pretty sure she was messing this all up, but she’d grown up with sisters, so she didn’t have a lot of experience with men to draw on. As her family followed her famous sister, Kim, to different movie locations, Ally had been homeschooled or changed schools often. The constant in her life had been her twin, Shar. Shar loved to tell Ally how pretty she was and Ally would laugh and say that’s only because they looked like carbon copies. Yet they didn’t. Shar was thin, and men clamored for her attention. Ally ignored men and focused.

  She hadn’t dated at all in high school, letting Kim’s and Shar’s adorableness take the spotlight as she immersed her in school. In college she’d found her spot as an academic, excelling through her bachelor and master’s programs. Once she’d graduated with honors, she worked and worked until she finally arrived at her current position as head of marketing, where she could make a difference in this world. And now she was messing it all up because she didn’t know how to flirt.

  They walked quietly down a side trail, away from the lights. A pale half-moon gave them light from above, but it was a little unnerving not to be able to see through the bushes, flowers, and trees. Yet it was over-the-top romantic to be alone in this beautiful spot with a tough, manly man like Preston Steele. Stop on the romance thoughts, she begged herself.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Preston said.

  “What?” She stared at his strong profile. What would he want to know about her? “About what?”

  He chuckled, and the deep, husky sound rolled over her. This man wanted to know about her? “Anything.” He paused as if thinking. “Where’d you go to school? What does it take to become marketing director for the Patriots?”

  Work. That was familiar. She could talk about that. She cast another glance at him. Was h
e insightful enough to sense that work was a safe subject for her? “I went to North Carolina State for my master’s in marketing. It’s one of the top business schools.”

  “Good for you. Then you came straight to the Patriots.”

  She nodded. “I had a connection. My uncle knows Bucky and helped me get the job. But I worked my way up on my own.”

  “I’m sure you did.” He smiled at her, and it wasn’t an indulgent smile. It was a smile as if he actually was impressed that she’d worked her way up to her position. Now if only she could talk him into helping her.

  Her heel caught on a root and she stumbled forward. Preston reached out and held on to her arm, preventing her from falling. Straightening, she pulled her arm free, humiliated that his simple touch had made her breath quicken. She was a professional, not some flighty girl, but this man was messing her up in the head.

  He turned to face her on the moonlit path. His face looked softer, less intimidating but still as perfect with the pale glow from the moon. “So, Alyandra Heathrow, are you going to explain why you lured me out here?”

  “Why did you follow me if you weren’t interested?” she threw at him, partially biding time but also wanting to know. Lured? Could she honestly have lured a man this perfect? If he’d known who she was and thought she was Bucky’s lackey, why did he look at her like he did and keep following her?

  “Oh, I’m interested.”

  No! Interested? Honestly? She swayed on her heels, pretty sure she had vertigo.

  His gaze traveled slowly over her, making her pant for air. His eyes landed on her lips. “So this is personal?” he asked in a husky voice.