Authors: Theresa Ragan
#
Lindsay tried to get past Cole unnoticed.
“Hey,” Cole said. “All the other kids left the locker room a while ago.”
She pretended not to hear him, easy to do with all the laughing and joking and loud music.
It took two steps for him to catch up to her though. Cole grabbed hold of Lindsay’s forearm. “Hey,” he said. “I don’t bite. But you already know that.”
She looked at his hand.
He let go, but not until after he pulled her closer to the bench in front of his locker. “Why haven’t you been returning my calls?” he asked.
She stepped closer to avoid being knocked over by two half-naked men. Cole still hadn’t taken a shower. He was dirty and sweaty and his uniform didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her throat tightened. She looked to the ground and wriggled her toes.
“You can’t even look at me? What the hell did I do to deserve this?”
“Nothing,” she said, forcing her gaze to meet his caramel-colored eyes. “It’s me. Not you. I never should have gone out with you in the first place. You know I didn’t want to, but you kept pressing. You just wouldn’t leave it alone. I have plans, Cole. My future is mapped out in ink, not pencil.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have my first appointment with DLS tomorrow.”
“DLS? Ahhh, yes. The sperm bank?”
She nodded.
“So I really was just a one-night stand for you, is that it?”
“Yes.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Man, you sure know how to hurt a guy.”
She flipped her hair back. “I do my best.”
His wide grin made her heart skip a beat.
“Where’s Kari?” he asked.
“Waiting outside. She couldn’t handle seeing all these big naked men in one room.”
“But you could?”
She rolled her shoulders. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
He laughed, and she knew it shouldn’t have surprised her that he could act so cool and calm after being so cleanly dumped, but he hardly seemed ruffled.
“I thought after you set eyes on this lean machine,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you’d beg to differ.”
“Yeah, well—” She took a long hard look at his body, hoped he was still wearing a cup under that uniform because if he wasn’t... “I don’t know,” she drawled. “I really did enjoy myself last weekend, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that after all the hype, I really thought you’d have more to offer.”
“Give me one more chance to rock your world, sweetheart. Let me take you out tonight and we’ll clear this whole thing up once and for all.”
“I don’t think so. I have to get up early...you know...my appointment with destiny.”
“Then let me take you to dinner. No strings attached.”
“Sorry, can’t do. I already have a date with the running back—Condors’ MVP.”
His eyes darkened. “You’re going out with The Terminator?”
“Is that his nickname?” She looked over at the big curly-haired man who had thighs as thick as telephone poles.
“You’ve only been in the locker room for ten minutes. When the hell did he ask you out?”
She gave The Terminator a little wave then feigned a shiver when The Terminator pulled off his shirt, revealing a beefy middle. “Two minutes ago.”
“Is that why you wore that shirt?”
She glanced down at her plain white cotton tank and chuckled. “Yeah, that’s why I wore this cotton tee. It works every time.”
Cole pulled off his shirt, his corded muscles flexing with every movement he made. She looked back at The Terminator and tried to collect herself, tried to breathe. No man had a right to look like Cole Fletcher. She coughed as she looked about, nearly choking on air when he slid off his pants.
He had to know she was uncomfortable. She quickly lifted her gaze to his.
He smiled and that riled her. It riled her further to know he knew that he riled her. “I better go,” she said, “before The Terminator takes off his pants and makes me all wobbly in the knees.”
“I thought you said ‘you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all’?”
“Maybe I spoke too soon. We both know there are exceptions to every rule. And The Terminator is definitely an exception.”
He laughed so hard the noise bounced off the walls, causing her to grit her teeth, especially after he whipped his towel, smacking her backside as she headed off.
#
That night, after dropping Grant at his home and then taking Molly to Amanda’s house for a sleepover, Kari found herself sitting at a bar called Reflections, a popular nightclub where football players liked to hang out after the game. She inwardly scolded herself for letting Lindsay talk her into coming.
Max sat across the room with a couple of his teammates. She tried not to look his way, didn’t want him to know how much she missed him. Ever since their weekend at the lake, she’d been at war with herself when it came to Max. On one hand, she was annoyed with him for putting her on the spot in front of Molly and the others, but on the other hand, a part of her wished she’d thrown all doubt to the wind and given him a chance. Lindsay was right. She loved Max. Always had, and probably always would. She sipped an Appletini and watched Lindsay on the dance floor doing a combination of the Hand Jive and the Hustle while The Terminator circled her like a hawk, entertaining the crowd with a few moves of his own. Kari figured she’d wait thirty minutes and then make excuses before heading home. She had a meeting with her newest client tomorrow morning. She wanted to get a good night’s sleep. She only came because Lindsay had poured on the guilt, reminding Kari that this was her last night out before becoming a single mother.
The nightclub was invitation only and from the looks of it, the Condors owned the place. Bartenders and waitresses kept busy hustling drinks while the deejay kept the place hopping with songs like “Celebration” by Kanye West.
Lindsay, Kari noticed, kept peeking over at the far corner of the bar where Cole was having a breezy conversation with a cute brunette. Why Lindsay would care at all after avoiding him all week, Kari had no idea. Obviously, she’d only agreed to go out with The Terminator to make Cole jealous. Her friend had lost her mind.
“Mind if I join you?”
Kari looked up into spectacular gold-flecked eyes and smiled despite her melancholy. “Help yourself,” she said, gesturing to the stool next to hers.
“Ever since we played volleyball a few weeks ago, I was hoping to introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “Derek Hoffman.”
His handshake was firm, his fingers long and sturdy. “Kari Murphy. It’s a pleasure.”
“You looked like you could use a friend.”
“Pathetic and lonely you mean?”
“Try beautiful and unattached.”
She smiled, although she knew he was only using a line. She had to be ten years older than the young man.
He pulled out the stool next to her and ordered water with lemon. “So what brings you here tonight?” he asked, his knee brushing against hers as he adjusted his large frame on the seat.
She pointed at Lindsay. “See that wild woman over there in the middle of the dance floor.”
He looked over his shoulder. “The one making The Terminator dizzy with all the moves?”
She laughed. “That’s the one. Her name is Lindsay and somehow I let her talk me into coming here tonight.”
“Ah, I see. You’re her protector.”
“Yeah, just one steely gaze from me and you’re all toast.”
He laughed, and she found herself enjoying his company.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Dutton?” he asked, his gaze intense.
“Friends,” she said before sipping her drink.
He pointed a finger at her. “I saw you outside the locker room today.” His eyes twinkled. “A groupie huh?”
“Yeah, that’s me—I’ll do whatever it takes to catch a big handsome football player of my own. I really had my eye on Cole Fletcher,” she purred, “but he’s been preoccupied all night.”
He smiled as “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. ended and “You Can Do It” by Ice Cube began to play on the loudspeaker. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Let’s show your friend and The Terminator how to get down and dirty and maybe you’ll be able to catch Cole’s attention if you try hard enough.”
She laughed, deciding not to worry about him getting the wrong idea. He was only flirting with her. He was harmless.
Not being a confident dancer, she really didn’t want to shake her booty in front of a bunch of jocks, but what the heck, he already had her halfway to the dance floor.
#
Max had seen Lindsay and Kari enter the club twenty minutes ago. What the hell was Kari doing here? He’d practically had to pull Molly’s teeth to learn that Kari was definitely not dating the realtor, but that was a week ago. He figured it was only a matter of time before Kari would realize they were meant to be together...and then she’d come to him.
Max had waited too...by the damn phone like a damn girly-girl. He’d found all sorts of reasons to stay at home lately, figuring Kari might stop by. Make that hoping and praying she might stop by. But he hadn’t seen hide-nor-hair of her since their weekend at the lake. He knew he’d blown it the moment he’d asked her to marry him in front of Molly and his family. What had aroused him do such an absurd thing? Scratch that. He knew what had aroused him. Kari Murphy aroused him; her lips, her eyes, her voice, her silky smooth skin, her sassiness, her intelligence, her hand in his, the tiny freckles sprinkled across her nose. But hell, it wasn’t as if he even wanted to get married, cute little freckles, or not. Not only was there the Dutton curse to consider, there was also the privacy issue and the too-old-to-change-your-ways issue. Being able to do anything he wanted at any given time was the life all his married friends pined for. He had it all. A great family. Great house. Privacy. Now he even had a great kid to spend time with. Why would he go and ruin the whole fantasy life by getting married?
He shook his head. Kari Murphy had cast some sort of wicked spell on him, making him say and do crazy things. This was all her fault. He exhaled. Who the hell was he kidding? He’d never been in love before, but too often these days he’d found himself wondering if this “thing” this “pang” he felt in his gut could be love. Even before his mother’s confession, before she handed over the letters, he’d felt it...an unfamiliar twinge in his chest every time Kari walked into a room. The notion that what he was feeling might be that hard to find, poem-inspiring sentiment called love, made his palms sweaty and his throat tight.
Kari Murphy had managed to turn him into a mush-mouth, gaping imbecile. What sort of moron would stand up at a campfire in front of a crowd of relatives and ask a hotdog-hating nutritionist to marry him?
This sort of moron. The cursed kind. The kind with a chip on his shoulder. The kind that sat in the dark alcove of a loud bar with a bunch of beer-drinking, dirty-talking whiners and sat back and watched his woman get scooped up by a youngster who not only thought he had the physical skill to take his job from him, but figured he might as well take the moron’s girl while he’s at it. Max had been battling Derek Hoffman at practice four days a week. And now he had to do it on his off-hours, too?
Shit. There Kari went again, doing that wicked little hip movement for Hoffman, making her dress swing up a little too high as she did some dirty dancing.
“That’s one hot babe, Derek’s dancing with. Who is she?”
Max looked over the table at Ted, a defensive lineman who struggled every week to tip the scales at two hundred and fifty. Ted had the gall to ogle Kari while Max sat there and waged war within himself to keep from knocking the table out of his way and taking Hoffman out for the count. Max looked back at the dance floor and took one more look at Kari’s long legs in those high heels and the way her body moved as she wriggled her hips as if she wasn’t the mother of his child.
Hoffman’s hand slipped down her waist, close enough to her backside to make Max clench his teeth.
Beaner, the tight end for the Condors, shifted in his seat and said, “I could watch that ass all night long.”
Max felt his blood pressure rise before he slapped his hand flat and hard against the table.
All three guys looked at him.
“Another word out of any of you and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Beaner grinned.
The other two remained silent as Max slid out of his chair and headed for the dance floor.
“What’s up his ass?” Beaner muttered.
“I think we’re going to see some fists flying tonight,” Ted said over the music.
Max came up behind Cole and tapped him on the shoulder. Cole turned around. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I could borrow Rebecca for a minute.”
“Sure,” Cole said as he turned toward some of Condors’ biggest fans, Rebecca and her friends.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I do have a mind of my own.”
“Want to dance?” Max asked.
Rebecca lifted her chin. “Am I being used?”
“Afraid so,” Max answered truthfully. “Or you could think of it as doing me a favor and I owe you one.”
“Anything I want?”
“Anything but that,” he said as her gaze fell below the belt.
“What the heck,” she said, squeezing out of the booth and straightening her tight skirt. “At least I’ll get a dance out of it. Cole’s been doing nothing but boring me to tears whining about some girl playing hard to get. Been there, done that,” she said. “The woman’s wasting her time.”
Cole looked over his shoulder at Lindsay and Kari.
Max raised a questioning brow, wondering why Cole was letting Lindsay make a fool out of him.
“I’ve already had a talk with The Terminator,” Cole said, reading his mind. “He knows that if he touches her he’s going to be out for the rest of the season.” He gave Max a smack on the back. “Good luck.”
Max headed for the dance floor. Rebecca followed.
Snoop Dog’s “The Next Episode” started up and Rebecca wasted no time grabbing Max by the waist and grinding her hips against his, taking full advantage of his dilemma. Rebecca took the lead, making him wonder if he should have handled this the old-fashioned way and asked Hoffman to step outside instead.
As Rebecca worked her magic, he caught Kari watching him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t into playing games. He knew he was being childish, but that didn’t stop him from grinning at Rebecca as he worked his hips in a move he’d perfected back in his college days.
Five minutes later, Max realized Kari was gone. His fingers curled at his sides as he left Rebecca to fend for herself and marched off the dance floor. According to the guys at the bar, Kari and Hoffman had left together.
Max exited the nightclub and welcomed the cool breeze that hit his face. A woman he didn’t recognize giggled as one of his teammates helped her into his car. Kari’s car was gone. Hoffman had been driving a shiny red Mustang. It was gone, too.
For the first time since he and Kari had met in Dr. Stone’s office, he realized it was over. He’d screwed up big time. First, by asking her to marry him; it was a chicken-shit proposal, and he and Kari had both known it the minute the words flew out of his mouth. He’d hoped to pressure her into saying yes by having Molly there. Looking back at the club, he decided to hell with it and he headed for his car. He wasn’t totally dense. He knew what Kari had really needed was a declaration of love. But he wasn’t good at that sort of sissy sensitive shit. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d know love if it smacked him upside the head.
He was an older brother, a protector. He was also his mother’s only son. And now he was a father. He had way too much responsibility for one man. He didn’t have time to sit around trying to figure out all this lovey-dovey crap. Maybe if he watched a few of those love stories his sisters used to watch over and over as they sobbed in front of the screen, he’d understand what women really wanted, what made them tick, because he didn’t have a damn clue. All their talk of shopping and fashion styles hadn’t helped in the least.
And love songs for Christ’s sake. What was that about? Was he really the last unicorn? The only guy left on the face of the earth who had no inkling of what true love was?
To think he’d thought he and Kari had something good going. He thought they had a chance to make a go of it. Kari was the first woman he’d ever proposed to. The only woman in the world he’d ever considered spending the rest of his life with. And she didn’t want anything to do with him. Running off with Hoffman was the last straw. A man could only take so much rejection.
By the time Max pulled his car into the garage twenty minutes later, he felt emotionally drained. The house was quiet and dark. A note from Breanne was taped to the door, saying she wouldn’t be home tonight.
Max sighed, opened the door, slid off his leather jacket and tossed it to a cushioned bench, too tired to bother with it. A deep loneliness seeped into his veins as he made his way upstairs.
He entered his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He yanked off his shoes and socks and then began to unbutton his shirt.
“What took you so long?”
Max pivoted, turning toward his bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to see a silhouette.
Somebody was in his bed.