Guarding His Heart. Synithia Williams

in the fashion industry, they’d looked at her as if she’d announced she was packing up and moving to Alaska to become a pioneer woman. Maybe she was taking a drastic step, but she wanted to do something worthwhile. She didn’t care what they thought, but the idea of Kevin looking at her like that? Well, that made her stomach churn a little.

      “Okay, so I was visiting relatives in Georgia last year,” she said in a rush before changing her mind. “When I was there, my uncle had a bonfire out in the field next to the house. They used to grow corn there I think, but anyway, there was this old cabin along the edge of the field. When I asked, he said it was the first house his great-great-grandfather built during the Reconstruction. He’d purchased the small bit of land, farmed it, fought the Klan on it and ultimately survived.”

      “Damn. That’s cool as hell.” Excitement and interest infused Kevin’s voice.

      “I know, right?” Her own excitement was piqued by his. She’d been thrilled to learn more about her mother’s family. She’d lost her mom when she was so young. Her dad remarried and she’d rarely spent time with her mother’s family. After her father later divorced and her stepmother completely disappeared out of her life, Jasmine had reached out to her mother’s family.

      “So I took pictures of the place. Started a scrapbook with the family history I got from my uncle. I sent a copy to him. Then the rest of my family asked for copies. It gave me an idea to capture more old cabins and homes owned by black people. Capture where they lived and highlight their history with what I can track down. Kinda chronicling the everyday life of the regular people trying to make their way in a world that didn’t want them to find a way.”

      “That’s what’s up.” Kevin nodded and sounded impressed. “Where are you starting?”

      His response fueled her excitement even more. She’d gotten such a lackluster response from some of her colleagues. Kevin got what she was trying to do. That meant others had to get it, too.

      “I’m going back to Georgia. I’ve been in contact with a historian who’s working to save slave cabins. I’m setting up a meeting with him to get an idea of where to go next.”

      “What will you do after you finish?” All of the flirtation was gone, replaced by a genuine interest in her project.

      “I have an agreement with Jordan and Jones to publish my findings.” That was the first time she’d said that out loud. Her disbelief at the leeway the publishing house was giving her seeped into her voice. “Angelero Gallery gave me the okay to exhibit my pictures once I’m done to build up interest before the book’s release date.”

      “Wow. You’ve got everything lined up.”

      She did, yet nerves still turned her stomach into a jumbled mess. She had the book deal because of her borrowed status photographing celebrities. The agreement from the gallery was for the same reasons—that and she was friends with the owner. That didn’t mean people would like the photos or get what she was trying to convey.

      She kept having a recurring nightmare of people only seeing old, dilapidated houses instead of the stories of the people who lived there. What those families overcame. She’d be laughed out of the gallery and her book would flop harder than a deflated basketball.

      “I’m excited about the project,” she said brightly, instead of letting him hear her insecurities.

      “It’s cool you have a plan and know what you want. Seriously, not everyone has that.”

      Something in his voice made her think he didn’t refer to people in general, but instead to himself. “What are you doing during the off-season? Do you relax or are you itching for the new season to start?”

      He looked down at his hands and stretched them out. A frown pulled on his lips. “Actually, I’m trying to figure out my next steps.”

      Next steps? From the little she knew of basketball, he was still considered an elite player in the league. “What do you mean?”

      “Retirement or not.” He looked up at her.

      “Retirement? You can’t be serious. You just won a championship. You’re the cover model for the Sports Fitness ‘Bodies in Motion’ issue. That only goes to top athletes. Why would you retire?” Okay, so maybe she’d researched him a little after today’s shoot.

      “I’m thirty-six. Might as well go out while I’m still on top.” He shrugged as if the answer was an obvious one.

      Except the look in his eye didn’t match his voice. His tone reminded her of someone forcing themselves to make a decision they were still unsure about. “What will you do if you retire?”

      He shrugged. “That’s the thing. I’ve got a few business interests. I could explore more of those options. It’s just...”

      “They’re not basketball.”

      He studied his hands again. “Basketball has been my life since I was eighteen. I was drafted right in the middle of my first year of college and I haven’t thought about doing anything else since. Could I really be happy in a suit, sitting behind a desk at a corporation?”

      She couldn’t see him in corporate America. Not because of the tattoos or pierced ears; the art could be hidden beneath business suits and the earrings could come out. She couldn’t see it because Kevin had this layer of wildness and excitement about him. No matter the environment, that dangerous air and flair to live outside the boundaries expected of him would always show.

      But stranger things had happened. She didn’t really know him and was basing her decision on his outgoing personality and the few reports of his off-court antics she’d read. The guy took his teammates skydiving to celebrate their first playoff win.

      But he was thirty-six and successful. Her quick internet search hadn’t brought up rumors of him spending money frivolously or filing for bankruptcy, a situation that plagued some celebrities who achieved superstardom as young as he had. He could get excited about one of his businesses and really thrive.

      “You won’t know until you try,” she encouraged. “If you’re ready to retire, don’t let the idea that you’re only good at basketball stop you. I’m sure you’re good at other things.”

      “How do you know?” he asked with a sexy tilt of his full lips that made her ease closer.

      “Your eyes are intelligent.” She met that dark gaze. His eyes were brown, bold and very cocky, but he wasn’t a dumb jock. He watched, listened and observed. All signs of intelligence.

      His gaze became guarded. His brows drew together. She must have surprised him. “No one’s ever told me that.”

      “I’m glad to be the first.”

      Kevin closed the distance between them. His large hand clasped her waist. The possessiveness came back to his gaze. Jasmine’s pulse accelerated and she swallowed hard. He pulled her close until the tips of her breasts brushed his hard chest. A shiver went down her spine. Not from fear but anticipation. Heat roared through her like wildfire.

      “I want to kiss you again.”

      She wanted to kiss him again. When she didn’t protest, his head lowered. Jasmine’s lashes lowered, too. Expectation wound up and tightened her nerves like a coiled spring. Thoughts of cabins and next steps in life blew away with the soft breeze.

      Ringing filled the air. Something at Kevin’s hip vibrated.

      He pulled back. “My bad. That’s my cell.” He pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “My daughter. Let me take this.”

      Jasmine nodded and stepped back. She tried to steady her breathing as he leaned against the concrete balcony railing and answered the call.

      “Hey, babe, what’s up?” Kevin frowned and cocked his head. “What? Well, I’m sure your mom has a good reason for saying that.” Pause. “Let me talk to her.”

      Kevin held up a finger toward