Hayes interjected. “A salesclerk isn’t going to know who the suppliers are.”
“Exactly.” I poked my fork in the air. “Tell them you’re interested in breeding stock if you have to, but be vague.”
Brody scratched his scruff. “They’re going to want to know why we want that info. Especially if mill circles are as tight-lipped as you said. What are we supposed to tell them?”
I nibbled the inside of my lip. I felt like I was taking a huge leap of faith letting these guys improvise, but it was the only way I could see the plan working. “You be tight-lipped, too. Say as little as you can get away with. You’re going to have to play it by ear and find a reason why one of their pups won’t do, or why you want to know about their suppliers. Maybe tell them you’d like to breed CC. If they’ve got a Cane in the shop, tell them you want a Neapolitan Mastiff, et cetera. You’re going to have to be as cagey as they are. Hopefully, they’ll get starstruck and spill.”
Hayes pushed his plate away. “We should throw swag in the truck, too. Talk with some of the other customers. Autographs and stuff. That kind of stuff might go a long way.”
Brody nodded. “You can’t go ten feet in DFW without hitting a Bulldogs fan.”
“Plus, you two have this natural friendship thing going. Play up the banter. I would suggest you decide who’s going to do the talking beforehand.”
Brody nodded. “We need a couple of different cover stories. Breeding stock. Breeding CC, maybe another to have on hand when they push.”
“The more swag we can throw around, the less questions they’re likely to ask, too,” Hayes added.
“Last, but not least,” I interjected. “Don’t buy a puppy.”
Both men nodded. “We got this, Lil.”
“I mean it. It’s harder than you think.”
Hayes stroked his beard. “We can be some charming sonsabitches when we need to be.”
I snorted, but I believed it. There wasn’t much Texans loved more than their football.
“I’m gonna take off.” Hayes put his napkin on the table and pushed back to stand. “I’m beat, but Lily, thank you for dinner.”
I walked him to the door. “Thanks for helping with this, Walker. You’re a good guy.”
He kissed my forehead. “Shh. Don’t tell.”
After he was gone, I went back into the kitchen where Brody sat stroking Mack’s head. “I’m sorry. I know y’all wanted more guidance from me on how to play this inside the shops, but you’re going to have to think on your feet to make it feel organic.” Plopping down in my chair again, I wished I could go with them, or better yet, take care of it myself. “I hate having to sit this out while you two do all the work.”
Brody put his hand on top of mine. “It’s why we’re here, Lil. I want this as much as you do.”
That little touch—heat licked up my spine and bled into my cheeks, but he pulled away too quickly. Did he? Want this like I did? Yes, we flirted, but did Brody want me as much as I wanted him? Because with the wine pumping through my system, and after the lunch with my mom, there was nothing I wanted more than to get lost in Brody. To feel all his hard against my soft and trace the lines of shoulders and pecs. To dip my tongue into the suprasternal notch at the base of his throat that had played peekaboo through the plackets of his Henley all night.
But Brody seemed to have other ideas. “So, the rumors about your dad...”
That banked the fire a little. “Yeah?”
“Doesn’t sound like an easy guy to live with.” Brody ran a hand over his scruff, seemed to choose his next words carefully. “It’s not always pretty, being on this side of the curtain. I’m sorry you had to deal with any of that as a kid. It’s hard enough to manage as an adult.”
I shrugged. “My dad was a complicated guy. Sometimes he was an amazing husband and father, other times, not so much. But I still loved him.”
Brody nodded, and as I watched him, I didn’t want to know what he was thinking. The conversation was killing my ladywood and my buzz in one fail swoop. But Brody told me anyway. “You know, we’re not all like your dad, Lil.”
I nodded, but the truth was I didn’t know that at all, and where Brody was concerned with women, all evidence was to the contrary. “What about your dad? You only ever talk about your mom in interviews.”
Stretching his neck, he leaned his chair back on two legs. “Never knew him, never cared to. My mom is a badass, though. She worked two jobs all through high school to put food on the table. And a guy my size? I eat a lot.”
“I realize. Between you and Hayes, I have no leftover lasagna.”
He patted his little food baby with a satisfied smile. “Truthfully, I was so thankful when I got the full ride to UNT. Mom was bound and determined I’d get a degree come hell or high water.” He grinned. “I bought her a house with my first signing bonus. Free and clear.”
That was in line with the guy I knew. Generous, thoughtful. But I also knew there was a player in there who went through women like toilet paper. I shoved the thought out of my brain. “You know, I was at UNT while you were. I was an undergrad in pre-law at the time, but I had a little secret crush. I remember when you got benched before the conference championship.”
Brody laughed. “Really? I bet you were a cute little thing in college. I wish I would have known you then. I would have definitely asked you out.”
“Uh-huh. I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Something crossed his face I couldn’t identify. “You never told me you were pre-law before. Why didn’t you go to law school?”
I shifted, trying to hide my discomfort. Did I tell him who Trey was to the team? Surely Brody had had plenty of contact with him. “I left pre-law because I was seeing someone who was on a medical track. It got serious, and he convinced me if I went to law school while he was in medical school, we’d never see each other, so I took the GRE instead of the LSAT and went into Kines. Less demanding. He ended up cheating and we broke up. What about you, what are your plans after you retire?”
Rolling his bottom lip in his mouth, he nibbled on the edge. “I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I’ve taken care of my money. I have time to decide.”
“What, not going to become an analyst? Isn’t that every former player’s dream?” I teased.
Throwing his head back, he let out a throaty laugh and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Hell, no. I want as far away from the cameras and spotlight as I can get.”
Damn, I wanted my mouth there. What would his skin taste like? I knew his breath was sweet mint and his lips were soft, but I’d never gotten the chance to taste his skin at the Unruly Dog.