Chapters (38)
- Cover
- Natural Born Charmer
- Susan Elizabeth Phillips
- To Liam,
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- About the Author
- Also by Susan Elizabeth Phillips
- Credits
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
- About the Publisher
She pulled the Vanquish in and got out. Today he’d carted away several wheelbarrow loads of old feed sacks and other debris from the barn and stables to make room for the car. He couldn’t do much about the pigeons roosting in the rafters except keep the car covered, but once he built a garage, that wouldn’t be a problem.
He slid the barn door back. Blue came up next to him, the purple glass earrings bobbing at her ears. He wanted to slip her in his pocket, among other things. “You’re used to it, aren’t you?” she said. “Not just the fighting, but strangers buying you drinks and everybody trying to be your best friend. You don’t even seem to resent it.”
“Considering the obscene amount of money they pay me for basically doing nothing, I’ve got no right.”
He expected her to agree, but she didn’t. Instead, she studied him so steadily that he got the feeling she knew exactly how much mind-numbing pain he endured. Even in the off-season, he watched so much game film that it played in his sleep. “Professional sports is entertainment,” he said. “Anybody who loses sight of that is kidding himself.”
“But it has to be a drag sometimes.”
It was. “You won’t hear me complaining.”
“One of the things I like about you.” She squeezed his arm, one friend to another, which set his teeth on edge.
“It has a lot more positives than negatives,” he said a tad too belligerently. “People know who you are. It’s hard to be lonely when you’re even middling famous.”
She pulled her hand away. “Because you’re never an outsider. You don’t know what that feels like, do you?” Her face fell. “I’m sorry. The way you grew up…Of course, you do. That was a crappy thing to say.” She rubbed her cheek. “It’s because I’m dead on my feet. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Wait, I—”
But she was off to the caravan, the beads on her sparkly lavender top twinkling in the dark like tiny stars.
He wanted to shout out that he didn’t need anybody’s sympathy. But he’d never chased after a woman in his life, and not even Blue Bailey could make him start. He stalked inside.