Dr. Bexley Vaughn is a genius at the top of her field. When she’s invited to apply her cutting-edge science to help the Memphis Knights football team return to its winning legacy, she jumps at the chance to work with two of the biggest names in the game. What she doesn’t expect is to fall hard and fast for both the veteran quarterback Paxton Davies and Dean Kincade, the eager young rookie looking to replace him. When things spiral out of control both on and off the field, Bexley will have to decide whether to risk it all on an impossible gamble, or to walk away and leave what’s left of her heart on the field.
The only thing she knows for certain is that, sometimes, finding love means re-writing the playbook.
SJ Noble writes sexy, sassy romances with hunky heroes and bad ass ladies.
She is the love child of authors June Stevens Westerfield and Sherry D. Ficklin, who have often lamented that between the two of them they are one amazing writer. Their debut series, The Memphis Knights Football Romance Novels, was born of Sherry’s deep and abiding love for football and June’s deep and abiding patience with her nonsense. They have been friends and partners in crime for most of the 21st century and plan to continue that streak well into their Life Alert years. They live worlds apart because, they suspect, that much awesome in one concentrated area *could* produce some sort of time-altering worm hole. That’s just science, folks.
“You know, I wish I had half as much faith in me as you do, Bex.”
He turns his full attention to me, his brown eyes dark and intense. For a moment I stare at him, my heart pounding hard in my chest as if counting the distance between us. When he leans toward me, I rock forward to meet him. There’s a voice in the back of my head screaming, but I stifle the sound. Meeting his lips with my own, I let myself tumble into him, a gentle warmth growing inside me. His hesitance evaporates and he clutches my waist, drawing a soft moan from my lips as my body reacts, taking us both by surprise. His lips are softer than I imagined, his touch gentler. It’s the sort of kiss you never expect, the kind that pulls you in like the tide rolling against the shore.
As soon as he releases me I feel the flush hit my face, my cheeks and ears burning with it. What the hell am I doing? Sliding off the desk I return the can to the fridge, keeping my back to Dean as I fight to steady my breathing.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently. “If I misread…anything.”
Taking a deep breath, I turn back to him, “No, no you didn’t. I just…can’t…”
Sliding off the table he crosses the room, taking my hands in his, “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispers, sending ripples along my skin. “Someone who takes none of my shit, but somehow seems to understand me better than anyone.” I inhale the scent of him and the room spins, everything becoming foggy, all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening vanish in a puff of smoke. “You can’t blame me for wanting you, for taking my shot.”