Deep Desire (Going Deep Book 4) Read online

  Before she could ask him, Gabe continued. “With Cut Day so close, it’s beginning to affect performance. To boost morale, Coach has arranged for a big shindig at someplace called Patricia’s by the River. Have you heard of it?”

  “It’s supposed to be amazing. So the idea is to share a great meal, get to know your fellow teammates a little better, and hopefully, everyone will relax?”

  “That’s right.”

  “When is it?”

  “Friday night. But I’m not going.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not mandatory and Murph’s got plans. I’ll just hang out here.”

  Zoe knew what he was doing. She’d seen it over and over again at practice. How he kept himself apart from his teammates. Refusing to get close to anyone. She didn’t have to be a psychologist to know that he was stung by the Noise’s decision to let him go and was trying to protect himself. She hated that he was hurting. Isolating. As not just his trainer but the friend she was becoming, she wanted to help him rebuild his life here, which meant getting him in tip-top physical shape, but also getting him to relax his guard around others. He was such a great guy and he deserved a balanced life. Football could be his priority, but everyone needed connections. Besides his sister and herself, he didn’t appear to have anyone else.

  An idea formed in her head, and before she could second guess the wisdom of it, she blurted out, “What if I come with you?”

  Gabe stopped in the act of drinking from his water bottle. “I thought you said we needed to keep things professional.”

  “We do. We are. But we’ve become friends and this wouldn’t be a date. Other guys will be bringing people along with them, won’t they? Managers, agents, mothers…”

  “I suppose so.” He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly faking suspicion, obviously teasing her. “So what would you get out of it?”

  “Do I have to get something out of it?”

  “In my experience, no one does something for nothing.”

  Well, that was certainly cynical, she thought, and didn’t seem consistent with the man she’d gotten to know the past few weeks. “How about I get to go to Patricia’s, a five-star restaurant with a six-month waiting list? Plus, I get to spend the night with a friend.”

  His eyes grew heated at that, and she cursed herself for her seemingly unending supply of unintentional sexually-charged innuendoes. “Tell me the truth, Zoe. Is that all we are?”

  Surprised, she stared at him, fumbling for what to say since they’d already gone over this, but knowing in her heart why he was asking. Because as much as they’d been building their friendship, the chemistry between them was always there.

  At her prolonged silence, he shook his head. “Never mind. Forget I said that. I think I lost some brain cells with that last workout, you pushed so hard. Kidding!” he said when she started to protest. “You know I like it hard, peach.”

  Ugh. Now she was back to having sex on the brain.

  “Anyway, thanks for the offer,” he said. “And you’re right, we are friends. So yes, let’s go together. But only because I was such an asshole to you the first time we met and I can make it up to you with some good food and maybe more than that.”

  Even though she was still rattled by his questioning their friendship and saying he liked it hard, she let it go and smiled. “Um, I think you’ve already made it up to me by not being an asshole the past couple of weeks, paying me a great salary, and letting me live in your amazing house. But what do you mean by ‘good food and more than that’?”

  “I mean, you can have some of the most stellar food in all of Savannah, or so I’ve heard, and maybe you can make a few connections at the same time, maybe bring Iron Maiden more business.”

  “Gabe, that isn’t why I suggested going,” she said.

  “I know. But you’re a great trainer, Zoe. Why shouldn’t you network with other football players after you’re through with me?”

  The notion of being “through” with him when they’d barely begun working together made Zoe’s heart ache a little. Murph had guaranteed her six weeks of work, but was Gabe thinking of not continuing with their sessions afterward? Because while he wouldn't have to train as often or to the degree he was now in the long term, and while she wouldn’t need to stay at his house, she was hoping he’d want to continue working with her indefinitely.

  And not just because of her job. Not just because she needed money.

  Because she knew she’d miss Gabe, miss his friendship.

  But what could she say? Do you not like me enough to keep working with me? She’d sound pathetic. She was giving him the best she had as a trainer. If that wasn’t good enough for him in the long run, then so be it.

  “I don’t know, Gabe. I offered so I could help you have a good time, not—”

  “Chickening out on me, peach?”

  Funny how she’d initially bristled at the nickname that now filled her with pleasure upon hearing it.

  Being with Gabe was a pleasure, period. And if their time together really was limited, why shouldn’t she enjoy it while it lasted?

  Excitement sizzled through her. They might not be going on a date, but she would still get to spend the whole night with Gabe. “You’re right. Okay, Friday night it is. Thanks, Gabe.”

  “Thank you, Zoe. For offering to go with me Friday. For being a great trainer. And for wanting to be my friend.”

  Chapter 11

  Friday night, when Gabe heard the click-clack of heels coming down the hallway, he knew he was about to witness a heavenly sight. Zoe Reynolds was a gorgeous woman, no doubt, but the goddess walking toward him was out of this world. Her dark green dress gathered at her waist, accentuating her lovely shape, and a pretty brown braid crowned her head, tucking into the nape of her neck. Dangly earrings gave her a touch of elegance.

  Point blank, Gabe Murphy would be the luckiest man at the event tonight. If he didn’t make people talk over his performance on the field, he’d make them talk over his plus-one.

  “Wow. Damn…”

  “Too much?” She struck a pose. “I feel like I should go back and change into the jumpsuit I was considering.”

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare change anything about how you look right now. You’re perfect.” He smiled then held out his arm and she curled her fingers around his bicep. Whatever body lotion or spray she wore made her smell like a summer forest.

  “Perfect for scarfing down the best food in town maybe.” She gave him a coy smile, and those dimples of hers popped out to break his heart.

  “You can eat whatever you like. Me, I have a strict diet to stick to, or else my trainer will bust my ass.”

  “Really? She sounds like my kind of trainer.”

  “She? No, no, I’d never use a female trainer,” he said totally deadpan. “They can’t do the job as well as a guy can. Too dainty. Not enough grit. Besides, women are only good for one thing…”

  He could tell from the boomerang eyebrow cutting into her forehead that she was about to punch him. Quickly, he added, “Ruling the world, of course. What’d you think I was gonna say?” He led her outside to the driveway and opened the passenger door of his four-month-old Porsche 911 in midnight blue.

  She stepped in, running her hand over the tan leather. “Whoa. Where’d you have this thing?”

  “Garage, along with my Harley and Yamaha.” He loved his bikes and car, even though he rarely had the time to go for rides on them simply for the joy of it. “I’ll take you out sometime.”

  “Oh, God. I’m terrified of motorcycles, so we’ll see.”

  The night was considerably cooler than it’d been during the day, now that they were nearing September, but thankfully neither he nor Zoe had mentioned her moving back to her place when the heat wave died down. He couldn’t wait to feel the tiniest bit of fall in the air, so he could drive with the top down. He wouldn’t do it now—no way would he ruin Georgia Peach’s hair.

  In the car, he asked her
if she’d ever worked with another professional athlete, and to his surprise she named a few pro football players.

  “They didn’t keep you on?”

  She shook her head. “They used me mainly for rehab, but then they got better and…” She shrugged and looked out the window before turning back to him with a weary smile. “Most guys have a hard time justifying working with a female trainer when it’s so outside the norm. But you know all about that, right?”

  She clearly meant to say it teasingly, but guilt still stabbed at him. “Well, you proved me wrong. Murph was right when she said you were the best, and if others have had a hard time seeing that, you’ll prove them wrong, too.”

  She just hummed.

  “You said you got into training to be close to your dad, but did you always work out yourself?”

  She burst into laughter. “God, no. I was chubby until my last year in high school. My parents never made a big deal about it though. They’d been satisfied so long as Pete and I were active and playing outside. Still, I can’t see BBQ food or pizza without wanting to stuff my face with it.”

  “That’s good, though,” he said. “Nothing wrong with a little carb feast every so often.”

  “Yeah, but it’s always on my mind,” she said. He looked over to see her staring ahead at the road, as he drove. “It’s not something you ever get over. I feel like I’ll always struggle with food if I’m not careful.”

  “Hey,” he said and waited for her to look at him. Her jeweled eyes reflected the light from the road. “You’re perfect however you are. At any weight. Pizza or kale, doesn’t matter. Okay?”

  She didn’t respond, just looked at him with curiosity—probably because his tone had been a little harsher than he’d intended. “Sorry,” he said, gripping the steering wheel. In high school, Gabe’s girlfriend his junior year, Alyssa, had a perfect, natural body—big breasts, wide hips, small waist, and thick thighs. Whereas Zoe’s shape was more athletic, Alyssa’s was more pinup girl, each attractive in their own way. Alyssa’s asshole father, however, insisted that she eat salads and lose weight or else she’d be fat when she got older, and no guy would want to fuck her. He told her just like that, too. “I just…I knew someone once who thought she wasn’t perfect the way she was, and it was tough.”

  Alyssa ended up moving away to Maine that year, and he hadn’t heard from her since. Sometimes he wondered if she still struggled with self-esteem thanks to her dickhead dad.

  “A friend?” she asked.

  “A former girlfriend. You’re lucky your dad’s a nice guy. Makes me even more glad he’s one of my heroes.” Zoe was quiet after that. Every time they talked about her father, she got this way. Was it because he’d been so devoted to football that he hadn’t always been there for his kids, or was it something more? “I’d love to meet him one day, if he’s available,” he added.

  Zoe sucked in a long, deep breath. “Sure. I’ll see what he says. He’s really busy most of the time. Doesn’t meet fans much anymore.”

  Gabe pulled into Patricia’s parking lot, mostly full already, and motored up to the valet. He handed the guy a twenty-dollar bill and shuffled around to open the passenger door for Zoe. When she stepped out and took his arm, Gabe felt like he was entering the party with a queen.

  As they made their way into a huge private room with a bar, dance floor and fancy banquet tables, everybody watched them—the restaurant patrons, the maître-d’ his coaches, and all the guys on the team. Even the ones there with their girlfriends and wives seemed to take minimal glances, at the very least, at Zoe Reynolds. With her bright smile and her natural, easygoing looks, she commanded attention.

  “Would you like wine or something else?” Gabe asked.

  “Sure, a glass of red wine would be great.”

  As he went to get the drink, Zoe buzzed from person to person, shaking hands and chatting, and everyone she spoke to laughed and couldn’t take their eyes off her. The woman was a social butterfly, something Gabe was not.

  In public, Zoe blossomed.

  Gabe did his best to blend into the walls.

  But every so often, he’d find her glancing around the room, as if looking for someone in particular. When their eyes would meet, and she’d see he was still in line for a drink, she’d smile and go back to chatting. He appreciated the fact he wasn’t far from her mind, even when she was surrounded by others.

  When Gabe brought Zoe her glass of wine, she was sitting at a table chatting to several football players, including Todd Stevenson, a tight end she’d apparently trained with briefly last season. The guy seemed nice, but based on Gabe’s conversation with Zoe in the car, Gabe couldn’t help glaring at him at little.

  “Zoe’s the best trainer I’ve ever had,” he announced for the benefit of Stevenson and anyone else within earshot. “Only a fool would let her go.”

  At his words, Stevenson looked at him funny, and Zoe blushed and bit her lip.

  For the next half hour, Gabe introduced Zoe to as many teammates as he could, extolling her prowess as a trainer whenever the opportunity presented itself, and he kept it up during dinner, too. At one point, Zoe leaned over and whispered, “You can just enjoy your evening, Gabe. I think everyone gets you think I’m a good trainer by now.”

  “You’re here with me, Zoe. Believe me, I’m enjoying my evening,” he said with a wink, before calling to a man passing by, “Hey LeBrun, you met my trainer, Zoe Reynolds?”

  Next to him, she shook her head, but he noticed the smile she couldn’t quite hide.

  After dinner, the servers were clearing the table in preparation for dessert when Kyle Young came by their table to introduce them to his wife, Arabella. For a princess, she was damn down to Earth.

  She smiled at Gabe, then at Zoe. “Kyle and I are heading to the dance floor. Anyone else feel like taking a whirl?”

  Stevenson, Zoe’s former client, immediately perked up and glanced at her, and Gabe stiffened. No way was he letting another man dance with Zoe while he watched.

  “I’d love to dance. Zoe?” The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  Zoe turned to him in surprise. “Are you sure?" she whispered for his ears only as her eyes drifted to the small dance floor in front of the live band.

  He stood. “Very,” he said, holding out his hand. As soon as she took it, he led her to the dance floor and took her in his arms. Zoe’s cheeks burned a bright pink and there was a fire in her blue eyes that sparked a flame inside his heart.

  God, she was beautiful.

  And he wanted her.

  It frightened him how much.

  Because sometimes, like now, he wondered if he wanted her more than Coach's approval.

  More than a target number of reps on the field.

  Even more than a Super Bowl ring or a MVP award, or the fame and success he'd chased his entire life.

  Anxiety filled his chest, but at that moment, Zoe smiled up at him, and he felt himself relaxing and surrendering to the moment.

  A client could dance with his trainer; there was no problem with that. And they had developed a friendship after all, so what was so wrong with two friends sharing a dance or two?

  Nothing.

  The fact remained, however: Gabe didn’t think of Zoe as just his trainer. Or just his friend.

  She was starting to mean everything to him.

  Chapter 12

  As Zoe walked into Savannah Oaks, she wasn’t feeling as anxious as she normally did. Maybe it was because the last few visits with Dad had been better than usual, or maybe it was because of her night out with Gabe. Either way, she was grateful. She’d visit with her dad, then head over to Iron Maiden later to catch up on some paperwork. Afterward, maybe she’d stop by Gabe’s practice. She loved watching him play but even more, she’d love to see whether dinner last night with his team would make him more willing to make connections with them today.

  Unfortunately, things didn’t go quite as Zoe expected.

  The first t
hing she did was give her father the lemon cake she’d brought him as a surprise. It was his favorite. But things went downhill from there.

  Not only did her father complain about it, claiming to never have liked lemon cake in the first place, he also told Zoe that the nurses were trying to poison him and ended up flipping the box containing the lemon cake onto the floor. On her hands and knees, Zoe helped clean up splattered merengue and yellow lemony filling, as the on-duty nurse helped and told her maybe she should come back tomorrow.

  “I love you, Dad,” she’d forced herself to say despite her sadness.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” her father had replied. “Why do you say that when I don’t even know who you are?” he repeated. His neck had looked so wrinkled, his hands shaking with uncontrollable confusion.

  Afterward, in the parking lot, Zoe leaned against her car under a light rain and let the tears fall. Why did this have to happen to her father? Alzheimer’s could happen to anyone, and God didn’t have it out for her or her family, but sometimes it was hard not to let the pity parade take over.

  From the memory care facility, Zoe went to Iron Maiden—not to work as she’d planned but to work out. After what had happened, she needed to exhaust herself, body and mind, so she didn’t go easy on herself. She ran and lunged and lifted and pushed until she was sweating and sucking in air like a locomotive. Then after a long shower and changing back into her street clothes, she changed her mind about going to Gabe’s practice. Instead, she did something she rarely did—she gave herself a big heaping serving of TLC. She went to the movies, treated herself to a manicure and pedicure, and ate at a new restaurant she’d been wanting to try. Mostly, she tried to put her worries out of her mind, but mostly it didn’t work. Despite her best efforts, she felt a feeling of hopelessness settle into her chest. Soon, she was overcome by the urge to barricade herself in her bedroom, climb into bed, and simply hide. For the first time since moving in with the Murphys, she wished for more privacy, because the last thing she wanted was for Gabe or Murph to see her in a depressed state and start asking questions.