She rolled her eyes and slid off the bar stool. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’re a guest.” He got up and took her plate, and his, to the sink, rinsed them, and loaded them in the dishwasher. Then he washed the skillet.

“You’re just on your best behavior because I’m here, right?” she asked as she once again took her seat at the breakfast bar.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“First you cook, then you do dishes, too?”

He stacked the skillet on the dish rack, then grabbed the towel to dry his hands. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“This isn’t the Trevor I know.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

She studied him. “Maybe I don’t.”

“Good. Then you’ll have a lot of questions to ask for your super feature story on me, won’t you?”

She laughed. “I guess I will. Which, now that breakfast is over, we should get started on.”

“Sure. Let’s spread out a little. The breakfast bar isn’t comfortable. Where would you like to go?”

Haven looked around, trying to decide where to set up. “Uh, living room.” Trevor would likely be more at ease, more at home there, and more amenable to answering her initial questions. Plus it seemed a little more formal than the sunroom.

“That’ll work.”

He took a seat in one of the leather chairs, while Haven spread out on the sofa, her notes and laptop in front of her.

“So how’s this going to work?” he asked.

“I’m going to start by asking some background questions, just a few things we’ll fill in on the narrative side of the equation. After we’re through with all the background story, we’ll start filming.”

“Which will consist of?”

“You at work. And at home. Where you grew up, where you went to high school and college, plus some of you at leisure activities. People want to know about you—who Trevor Shay the person is, as well as the athlete. I’ve looked into some of the charities you sponsor. I’d like to showcase those.”

“I’d like that, too.”

“Then we’re set.”

“Do I get to interview you, too?” he asked.

“Ha-ha. And no. You already know all there is to know about me.”

“Do I?”

“Sure. We’ve known each other since college.”

“We’ve been around each other, Haven. But do we know each other all that well?”

She frowned. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Look. If you knew everything there was to know about me, you could write the background without needing to interview me, right? But you can’t, because while we went to college together, we didn’t really hang out, did we?”

“No, we definitely didn’t.”

“And it’s not like we’ve spent a lot of time around each other. We know each other because of your mom and dad. We’ve hung out some, but you don’t really know me all that well. And I don’t know you, either.”

“Do you know everyone who interviews you?”

“No. But you’re the daughter of someone I greatly admired. Someone I thought of as a mentor. You’re not just a random interviewer. You’re someone I’d like to get to know better.”

She didn’t understand why he was interested. Or why it even mattered. “You’re certainly playing a different tune now than you did in college. You couldn’t wait to get away from me then.”

He dipped his head, then gave her a very sexy smile. “In college it was different. I wasn’t much for learning back then. The only thing I was interested in was the ball—either football or baseball. I wanted to be out on the field playing. Academics got in my way. And you represented academics.”

“I see.” Not exactly the same way she’d seen it back then. “So you saw me as a way to help you pass your classes so you could stay in school.”

“Something like that. Why? Was I mean to you?”

“No. Not at all. You just did everything in your power to avoid studying.”

He laughed. “Yeah. That really wasn’t my thing.”

“So I noticed. Unfortunately, charm could only take you so far, Trevor. At some point you had to get a passing grade.”

“And you helped with that. So thanks again.”

“You’re welcome. Though I don’t know that I really helped, since you managed to elude most of our study sessions, or rarely paid attention to what I was trying to say.”

“Hey, I passed, so it sank in. Trust me, you helped.”

The earnest way he looked at her, the easy smile on his face, and, oh, God, she could get so lost in the sea green of his eyes, how dark and long his lashes were, and his mouth—

“So . . . where do we start?”

Haven blinked, and realized she’d been staring at him. He’d done this to her in college, too, making her lose her focus.

Damn the man anyway. And now he was smiling at her, as if he knew exactly the kind of effect he had on her.

“Let’s start with your childhood.” At his wary look, she said, “We’ll walk gently through here, and if anything makes you uncomfortable, we’ll stop.”

She turned on her recorder. Trevor looked down at it. “No.”

She switched it off. “No?”

“Not for this part.”

She didn’t know why, but she wouldn’t ask, at least not yet. “Okay. I’ll just make notes on my laptop. Anything you’re uncomfortable with, we’ll discuss.”

“Fine.”

She might be new at this, but she was still a journalist. Her job was to dig and dig deep, even into uncomfortable territory, to make the subject at ease enough with her that he’d divulge secrets he might not otherwise want to delve into.

She’d do it with Trevor if she had to, but she hoped he’d feel comfortable enough with her that he wouldn’t even notice the probing questions.

“What was the first organized sport you remember playing, and how old were you?”

“That’s easy. Soccer. I was five. Though I don’t know if you could call it organized.”

She laughed. “Yes, I remember. I played, too. My parents referred to it as bunch ball, because we gathered around the ball in a bunch and chased after it.”

“Yeah, T-ball was a little better. I played that, too. Then Pee Wee league football.”

She’d started typing in notes. “You liked sports a lot as a kid.”

“I was a hellion with excess energy. My mom had to keep me busy, so I played sports year round.”

“Is that what you wanted to do?”

“I loved playing. And my mom was right. I didn’t like to sit and be quiet. I wasn’t much for quiet time, watching a movie or reading a book. I wanted to be outside running around and doing things.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have a brother. He’s younger than me.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “His name is Zane. He’s still in college.”

“So quite a bit younger than you.”

“Yeah. He’s my half brother, actually. My parents divorced when I was seven years old. My mom remarried and had Zane.”

She hadn’t known his parents divorced. So much she didn’t know. She was making copious notes.

“Are you and Zane close?”

Trevor grinned. “Yeah. He’s great. So smart. He’s premed, so he’s going to be a doctor. He graduates next spring and then he’ll start medical school. My mom and stepdad are so proud of him. Hell, we all are.”

“I’m sure she is. Just like she’s very proud of you.”

“Oh, yeah, sure she is. But you know, sports isn’t medicine. I’m not gonna save someone’s life catching a football or hitting a home run.”

“I don’t think it’s very fair to compare yourself to your brother’s career choice, though. You’re doing what you love, following where your talents lie. So is your brother.”

He shrugged. “True enough. Next question.”

And he glossed over the fact that it obviously bothered him that his brother had chosen an important career path and he for some reason felt his wasn’t.

“How often do you see your brother?”

“As often as we can get together.”

“Where does he go to school?”

“He’s getting his premed degree at Washington University here in St. Louis, where he’d also like to go to med school. I think, given his grades, it’s a given he’ll stay there.”

Haven smiled. “How wonderful for him.”

“Yeah. Like I said, he’s really smart.”

“I’d like to meet him and interview him.”

“I’ll see what his schedule looks like and maybe arrange that.”

“Thanks.”

She looked over her notes. “Tell me about your dad. What happened after the divorce?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad.”

“You and your father aren’t close?”

“I love my mom. My stepdad is an awesome guy and stepped in when my father wasn’t around, which was most of my childhood. He’s the real dad in my life. Let’s just leave my father out of this whole process.”

She put the laptop to the side. “Okay. Off the record, tell me about your dad.”

He stood. “Not now. Let’s take a break. How about a swim before it gets too hot and before I have to leave for the ballpark?”

She looked up at him. “Trevor, we’ve just started and there’s a lot of material to go over.”

He came over to her and grabbed her hand and tugged her up. “And plenty of time to get there. Come on, a quick swim and we’ll get back to work. Life is meant to be lived, Haven. Let’s have some fun.”

She hesitated, then finally nodded, figuring if she kept him happy, he’d be more amenable to answering her questions—even the tough ones. “Okay, but only a short break.”

AN HOUR LATER, TREVOR TREADED WATER IN THE DEEP end while he watched Haven sitting on the pool steps in the shallows. Her elbows rested on the edge of the pool and her face was tilted up toward the sun. She looked . . . relaxed, which was exactly how he wanted her.

This morning was going well. She’d dived into the questions, seemingly into her work, which had been the goal. Unfortunately, it had been him who’d put a stop to everything when she’d brought up his dad.

He couldn’t go there. Not right now, and never on the record. This break was just what he’d needed to get Haven’s mind on a different track. Plus, she seemed to be having a good time. Or at least, she didn’t seem down.

“How can you ever go to work when you have a backyard like this?” she asked, tilting her face up to meet the sun. “If I lived here, I think I’d live in the pool. Plus, it’s heated, so you can swim in here until at least the end of October, depending on the weather.”

“Yeah, it’s really nice. That’s why I bought the place. It’ll see me through to the championship, provided we make it that far.”

“And what do you think of the Rivers’ chances this year?” she asked.

“Pretty damn good. After all, they have me.”

She laughed. He swam toward her and pulled up a spot on the ledge next to her. “So you think you could get used to a decadent lifestyle, huh?”

She slid her sunglasses on top of her head. “What can I say? I’m easily swayed.”

“I don’t believe that. You were always so driven in college. You of the dual degrees and all.”

The look of surprise on her face made him smile.

“How did you know that? You barely paid attention to me.”

“Maybe I do know more about you than you know about me.”

“Seriously. How did you know that?”

“Your dad and I had some conversations. He was very proud of you. He said you could have done anything with your life that you wanted—you got your degree in special education and in journalism.”

“And I chose journalism.” She looked out over the water. “I don’t know if that’s very noble.”

“It’s what you wanted to do, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose at the time. It seemed more exciting to me. I had the opportunity to travel and I so wanted to get out of Oklahoma. Plus, I love sports. That’s why I chose journalism over teaching.”

“Sports is exciting to me. I couldn’t dream of ever doing anything else. You think what I do is noble?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

“Okay, then. So neither of us is noble. Get over yourself, Haven.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. At first I wanted to teach. I loved tutoring, loved the classes, but the lure of journalism was there, too. Hence the dual degrees. I couldn’t decide what I wanted more. And that’s why it took me longer to graduate, too.”

“So you’re beating yourself up because you’re doing what makes you happy?”

“Who says I’m beating myself up?”

And he wondered if she was really happy. “I do. Journalism is an exciting career.”

“Teaching can be, too.”

“Teaching is a grueling, thankless career and you know it. I’m sure it was a tough career choice to make.”