Longhorn Linebacker

By Cat Johnson

Trent O'Shea is a superstar athlete on the football field, but for one week each year he escapes into anonymity at an exclusive resort in the Florida Keys that caters to the rich and famous. Armed with a fake identity, he's happy to sit by the pool and do nothing except enjoy some breathtaking scenery—and maybe ask her if she needs help putting sunscreen on her back.

Laurel Burnett never met a bad boy she couldn't catch. Cheating spouses. Deadbeat dads. Scammers. Once the determined PI sets her sights on them they all fall, and the next alleged perpetrator in her crosshairs is none other than the famous Texan linebacker Trent O'Shea. The super-sexy baller who Laurel's client hired her to track will be her biggest trophy yet. She'll do anything to bring him down, even follow him to a resort paradise and use herself as bait.

But things aren't always as they appear and Trent and Laurel both learn that sometimes even perfectly planned plays can go wrong when love and lust are involved. Then it's game on!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cat Johnson
• Release date: Feb 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215533994

Cat Johnson

New York Times & USA Today bestselling contemporary romance author Cat Johnson. Sign up at catjohnson.net/news to get new release and sale alerts.

Book preview

Trent O’Shea is a superstar athlete on the football field, but for one week each year he escapes into anonymity at an exclusive resort in the Florida Keys that caters to the rich and famous. Armed with a fake identity, he’s happy to sit by the pool and do nothing except enjoy some breathtaking scenery—and maybe ask her if she needs help putting sunscreen on her back.

Laurel Burnett never met a bad boy she couldn’t catch. Cheating spouses. Deadbeat dads. Scammers. Once the determined PI sets her sights on them they all fall, and the next alleged perpetrator in her crosshairs is none other than the famous Texan linebacker Trent O’Shea. The super-sexy baller who Laurel’s client hired her to track will be her biggest trophy yet. She’ll do anything to bring him down, even follow him to a resort paradise and use herself as bait.

But things aren’t always as they appear and Trent and Laurel both learn that sometimes even perfectly planned plays can go wrong when love and lust are involved. Then it’s game on!

Chapter One

T o the end of another season. Ken raised his beer in a toast.

Trent would gladly drink to that. He clanked his longneck bottle against Ken’s and added, And here’s to having a break from it all for a little while.

A cold beer. A corner table in a dark bar. His good friend and teammate Ken Tyler seated opposite him. That right there had all the makings of a good evening in Trent O’Shea’s opinion.

Of course, how long it would last was up for debate. It was only a matter of time before the damned reporters tracked them down. Or one of the other patrons recognized that two of the San Diego Cougars defense were among them.

Then they’d either come over and ask to take a picture—which Trent didn’t mind—or they’d start trying to sneak one by holding their cell phones up and pretending to search for signal. As if he didn’t know they were really taking a photo to share on whatever the hot new social media site was this month.

That pissed Trent the hell off. It made him feel as if he were being hunted, like some sort of human prey.

Back in Texas, years ago when he’d been a normal guy, he would have pummeled a guy for less. But that was before the full-ride football scholarship to the University of Texas put his face on every television in the country. Before he’d lost all semblance of privacy and a personal life. Back when he could see a pretty little thing in the local honkytonk, take her out to his truck and not worry she’d sell the story to the papers the next day. Or make a play for a wedding ring and his millions in earnings.

A hottie with more boobs showing than he’d seen outside of a strip club sauntered by the table and shot him a heated glance.

Yup, that was just the type he knew would say she wanted to have his baby . . . and then take all his money.

With a sigh, Trent yanked his gaze back to the safe zone. God, he missed the old days when he was a poor nobody. And he really, really missed sex.

A crooked grin tipped up the corner of Ken’s mouth. You really do hate it, don’t you?

Hate what?

The game.

The game? No. I love playing football. You know it. Hell, I’m from Texas. You don’t love football from the time you can walk, they run you out of town on a rail. Ken laughed as Trent continued, The other bull that comes with it though? Yeah, that I could do without a’ight.

Just thinking about the paparazzi and the press had Trent turning to look for the waitress to order another round and see if he could spot any tabloid photographers who might have snuck in while he wasn’t looking.

He got the server’s attention and raised two fingers, then turned back to Ken. You can stay for another round, can’t you?

Yeah. Anya’s baby shower should be going on for a couple of hours and I was warned it was girls only and to steer clear of the house. Ken absolutely glowed when he talked about his wife and his impending leap into fatherhood.

Trent was torn between feeling scared and envious at the thought. Still, it must be nice to have someone to go home to, especially during the off season. You have plans for the time off?

Yeah. I’ll be spending twenty-four/seven keeping my very pregnant wife happy.

Is Anya feeling okay? Trent figured she must be nearing the final stages of the pregnancy.

She had to be. She was huge. She was still beautiful, but yeah, there was no doubt there was the baby of a linebacker growing in that belly. Poor little thing looked like she’d topple over if her front side got any heavier.

She’s doing good. Ken’s gaze cut to Trent and then away. She’s in the stage where she’s, um, more demanding than usual. It’s supposedly all the hormones.

You mean like bit—bossy? At the last moment Trent corrected what he’d been going to say—bitchy—and changed it to something less likely to anger his friend.

In any case, he couldn’t imagine her being bitchy or bossy. Anya had seemed as sweet as usual last he’d seen her.

"No, demanding in the bedroom." Ken had dropped his voice low for that revelation, but not low enough for Trent.

Dude. No, I don’t want to hear that. TMI. Trent buried his head in his hands trying to block his ears from the information he didn’t want.

Ken laughed. What? It’s no secret. It’s in all the pregnancy books.

Well, I don’t happen to be up on my baby book reading so keep that shit to yourself, please.

Okay, sissy boy. Ken rolled his eyes. You’d probably crawl right under the table if I told you about mucous plugs and afterbirth—

Ugh. Ken, I swear to God, don’t make me knock you right out of that chair.

Trent had pulled his share of calves during calving season back on his granddaddy’s ranch. He’d been elbow deep inside some pretty gross shit that Ken wouldn’t even be able to imagine, but hearing this kind of stuff about his friend’s wife was too much. He had to look Anya in the face next time he saw her and when he did he didn’t want to think about any of the things Ken was putting in his head.

Thank God the waitress appeared with their beer and gave Trent a reprieve from more talk of birthing horrors.

When the waitress had left them alone again, Ken eyed Trent. What are your plans for the break? You headed home to Texas?

Trent wobbled his head. Eventually, yeah. But first I’m taking a week away from everyone, including family and friends. Someplace where no one knows me.

It sounded horrible, but he really did need some time completely alone to decompress from the demands of the season. Especially a season when the Cougars hadn’t made the Super Bowl. It seemed the press was even more vicious and relentless in pursuing the losers of the final playoff game, than the winners. That he and Ken had made it out of the team meeting and to the bar without fighting a throng of paparazzi was a miracle.

Ken snorted out a laugh. "Where do you think you can go that no one knows you? You buy a ticket to the space station? Because I’m betting the guys at NASA are fans too, so that plan could backfire on you. You’ll be floating around in zero gravity, running over game plans with a bunch of astronauts who’d wanted to play pro