Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) Read Online Free

why her use of my name catches me off guard, but when the whispers start, my cheeks redden and I suddenly find all the dusty cowboy boots wildly fascinating.
    “I’m so sorry for being so casual, Miss Mooreland. But if I hadn’t been those old coots would have rumors flying within the hour.” The bouncing blond swiftly rounds the corner to the kitchen, a tower of coffee mugs in each hand and her carafe dangling by her little finger. I don’t hear a crashing of cups, so I assume she found someplace safe to set all the ceramic down when she comes back to the counter wiping her hands on a white dishtowel hanging from one of her apron pockets.
    “It’s okay. I wasn’t sure if anyone would recognize me.”
    “Wouldn’t recognize ya? Oh, golly. I’m sure everyone in the country knows who you are! You’re the best sportscaster out there. Ain’t nobody knows more about the goin’s on of football better than you. I mean, I wouldn’t even know what a blog is if it weren’t for yours.”
    I knew I’d like her. “You’re too kind, but thank you.”
    “I’m serious. That piece you wrote on the top ten rookies last summer helped me beat half the high school team in fantasy last year. And don’t get me wrong, Mr. Logan is a real gentleman, but—” she blows a breath through her pouty lips and shakes her head, “—I cannot believe the way he just totally blew off your questions. I’ve never seen him like that.”
    Somehow, that was comforting to know.  “So you know Mr. Lassiter?”
    “Not really. I mean he comes in for coffee once in a while. And he goes to church with my memaw, so.” She shrugs, as if that explains it all. “I take it you’re here for that article in The Report then?”
    “You know about the report?” I ask, completely shocked.
    “Oh, yeah. Lucy’s been braggin’ about it ever since she found out. It’s kind of a big deal, being in The Report. ” She shakes her head as she mocks this Lucy.
    She isn’t kidding. The Red Zone Report only highlights four players a year and most of the time the editors want to cover the greats that are either long retired or at the peak of their game. In my opinion, Logan hasn’t peaked and is a long way away from walking off that field for good. It says a lot that they want him on their cover so early in his career.
    “Yes it is.” I smile. “And yes, I am. I just got into town and have an appointment to meet him at his ranch. Do you know where it is?”
    She shakes her head and her lips turn down into the slightest frown as she glances out the front windows. “I do, but I don’t think you have enough time to get there. That storm is gonna hit real soon and it’s probably best if you just sit tight.”
    I wish I could afford to heed her warning, but I’ve been so anxious to get this started so I can get back home and have the whole experience behind me. To say I’ve been dreading this time in Texas—specifically with interviewing Logan—would be a huge understatement.
    “I really need to get going. But I could really use a coffee to go.”
    Blondie gives me a doubtful look but nods anyway. “Sure. Give me just a sec.”
    She turns and pulls a foam cup off a stack on a counter behind her and picks up a full carafe from a warming tray. “Just black?” she asks, peeking over her shoulder at me.
    “Do you have cream and sugar out here?” I’d kill for a caramel mocha at this point, but judging by the foreboding look on her face, I don’t have time for her to fire up the espresso machine. Her blond curls whip around as she faces the counter in front of her again, picking up bottles and pouring various condiments into my cup. As she turns to face me, she places a lid over the mug and hands me a sleeve for the cup.
    “Here. I added some caramel syrup too.” She hands me the cup and gives me a grin the size of her home state.
    “Thanks. How did you—”
    “Your Instagram bio says that you love your caramel mochas about as much as you love