Kick It Up
Page 28
“No, you’re The Boss.” She giggled and rubbed his nose with hers. “Besides, I can’t ever imagine that happening.”
“What, that I’d lose playing time?”
“No.” She smacked his buttocks. “That you’d ever stop satisfying me in bed.”
He knew that. He just wanted to hear her say it.
“I better get busy then because I intend to start every game.” He pulled her even closer and sealed his job security with a kiss.
After a trip around the world and a few excursions to paradise, Simon had elicited enough giggles, gasps, and sighs from Jessica to guarantee himself a starting position for the next fifty years.
“Are we ever going to get out of this bed?” Tangling the sheets in her legs, she turned sideways and rested her head on his belly.
If she moved a fraction of an inch lower, he might just secure his starting position for another fifty years.
“Mmm, I don’t have to be anywhere. The boss gave us the day off.” He sat up, banging his head on the headboard.
“Bloody hell. I have to find a solicitor today.”
“Is this your way of telling me you want a three-way with David? Because I can tell you right now, he’s not into that kinky shit, and I’m not sharing you with him.”
“This is serious, Jessica. I told you last night I fired
“This is serious, Jessica. I told you last night I fired Evan, but I didn’t tell you why.” He lifted her head from his lap and rolled out of the messy bed, placing his feet on the cold hardwood floor.
“You didn’t have to tell me. He’s slimier than a bucketful of worms on the Santa Monica pier.”
He dragged in a breath and blew it out. Would Jessica berate him for selfishness by allowing Evan to go public with that video of Gemma? No, he wouldn’t sit back and let that happen. That’s why he needed a solicitor to threaten a lawsuit against Evan before Gemma’s acting debut ever made it to the Internet.
“He’s slimier than you know.” He fumbled through a drawer and grabbed a pair of briefs. He’d lost the ones he wore yesterday somewhere between the front door and the sofa, and he better find them before Milla vacuumed for the day.
He dragged on his underpants and looked up, his gaze locking with Jessica’s troubled eyes. “He claims to have some sex tape starring Gemma. He threatened to go public with it if I didn’t agree to the TV series.” In one fluid movement, Jessica wrapped the sheet around her body and flipped over, sitting up with her heels tucked beneath her. “You know about that tape?”
“You know about that tape?” He leveled an unsteady finger at her. “How do you know about it?”
“Gemma told me, or rather we figured out what happened together.” She clutched the sheet to her breast with one hand and held out the other, waving it in the air.
“You can lose the indignation right now. She didn’t want to upset you. You had enough to deal with, and she swore me to secrecy.”
The anger brewing in his chest scattered like clouds after a storm. He couldn’t blame Gemma for not confiding in him. He’d been distant and preoccupied, not to mention too busy acting out. And Jessica?
She sat on the bed, hands on her hips pinning the sheet to her body, her chin tilting in defiance. He appreciated her loyalty to Gemma, whose own sisters would’ve run to Dad telling tales.
“Okay, I get it.” He crossed his arms and expanded his chest just to make sure she realized he was still large and in charge. “Now you understand the importance of finding a solicitor to stop this thing.”
“Done.” She snapped her fingers. “I got the DVD back and destroyed it before Evan had a chance to use it against you.”
He dropped his arms and his chest deflated. “How’d you manage that?”
“Let’s just say I have friends in low places.” She winked and ripped off the sheet. “Now let’s hop in that shower and make use of those dual shower heads I’ve been eyeing ever since you moved into this joint.”
***
Two days after the Waves’ first game, Jessica leaned back in her chair on the patio of the little Mexican place Simon insisted on going for their last meal before he and Ivo boarded a plane for a soccer match with the Houston Strikers.
Simon had Ivo slapping the table and Gemma snorting soda out of her nose with his story about how he called Evan’s football client, Killer Kanunu.
“S-so what did he say when you told him Evan called him a mama’s boy and planned to use his mama to sell soup?” Ivo grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped his eyes.
“He roared something incomprehensible, but I thought I heard the words kill and son-of-a-bitch. Then I think he threw the phone or something because I heard a crash and more cursing in the background.”
“Oh I’d pay to see Killer crush Evan like the bug he is.” Gemma ground her fist into her palm while Ivo watched her with wide eyes. Ivo didn’t know about the tape.
Jessica heard through a few former co-workers at CSM that Evan had fired Megan. Those co-workers also told her while security escorted Megan out of the offices, she was screaming about suing Evan for sexual harassment. Jessica smiled. Couldn’t happen to a nicer couple of lowlifes.
“My sister has a misplaced loyalty toward me.”
“It’s not misplaced, Simon, and it never has been. I know you’ll be there for me, but you’re not going to sacrifice yourself for my stupid mistakes, and you shouldn’t.” Ivo glanced from Simon to Gemma, his brows drawn together. “You guys just lost me, and this conversation just got way too deep.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ivo.” Gemma patted his hand.
Simon’s new cell phone rang. As he glanced at the display and frowned, Jessica’s heart skipped a few beats.
Please, no more bad news.
“Why did he do it?” Simon’s frown deepened along with Jessica’s dread. “All right, then. No, don’t bother.
She’s right here. I’ll tell her.”
He ended the call and tapped the phone against his palm.
“What is it, Simon?” Whatever the catastrophe this time, she knew she’d stand beside him. For some strange and wonderful reason, she made him a stronger person, a better person. She couldn’t even measure what he did for her, but the empty space she’d carried within her for years was full, overflowing even.
“That was the attorney, Richards. Coach Heinrich made a statement today admitting his guilt in the matchfixing scheme and recanting his accusations against me and another player.”
Gemma squealed and Ivo whooped and knocked back the rest of his beer.
Jessica jumped up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Simon’s neck. “That’s great news. Your name is cleared now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s clear.”
The waitress came out to the patio with their check and pointed to Ivo. “Can we get your picture too?”
“Why not?” Ivo shrugged and pushed back his chair, grabbing Gemma’s hand. “Come with me.” Jessica called after them, “Make sure you get a spot next to Erik Estrada.”
She laughed and took her place across from Simon. A crease still marred his brow, and his teeth clamped his lower lip.
“What’s wrong, Simon? You don’t look very happy. This is fantastic news. I don’t think your fans much cared after the way you played the other day, but now you won’t have that cloud over your head.”
“It’s funny.” He shook his head, a lock of hair falling over one eye. “All this time I thought Coach Heinrich sat me out because he was dissatisfied with my playing, and that’s all it took to destroy my confidence. Now I’ve come to find out, it had nothing to do with me or how I played. He benched me to guarantee we’d lose games, to manipulate the outcome of games by using players who were in on the fix.”
“That’s a good thing, Simon.” His depression puzzled her. He had it all back now. “You never lost your skills. You proved that in the first game with the Waves.”
“I had so little faith in myself, I allowed it to happen.” She rea
ched across the table and grabbed his hand.
“It’s different now. You’re different.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and he squeezed her hand. “If Jessica Jones Brett Doe believes in me, I’ve got it all.”
Ivo and Gemma stumbled back onto the patio, whispering and giggling.
“Did you get your picture taken with the staff?” Jessica asked.
Ivo slapped some money on the table. “Yeah, they’re putting me next to Antonio Banderas.”
“Wait a bloody minute.” Simon shoved his chair back and slapped down his own money. “How come I get that CHIPS bloke and you get Antonio Banderas? I’m not going to be upstaged by some bloody Russian.” He turned his head over his shoulder, winked at Jessica, and flashed his famous grin.
***
Two months and an unprecedented winning streak for the Waves later, Jessica hoisted the strap of her briefcase over her shoulder. She extended her hand to Paulo Madrona, as of today a new player for the Waves.
Handshakes ensued all across the table–Paulo, Franco, Paulo’s agent, and her father.
Dad gripped her hand tightly and pulled her toward him. “Helluva job, Jessie. You’ve turned this team around.”
“I didn’t do it, Dad. We owe it all to Simon.” She whispered, “We even have Simon to thank for Paulo.”
“Okay, I admit it.” Dad’s lips tightened and his nostrils flared. “You were right about Simon, and I had it all wrong.”
She waved his words away with a flick of her hand. She didn’t need to hear them anymore. They no longer carried the awful weight they once did, no longer had the power to send her scrambling for the nearest edge to fling herself over like a lemming to its doom.
Besides she didn’t have time to discuss Simon right now. She had to meet the man in all his gorgeous, golden flesh. He was picking her up in an hour with orders to dress casually.
***
After a meal of burgers and fries at their favorite roadhouse in Oxnard, Simon eased his car into a turn toward the coast and roared down the road to the same parking lot they’d snuck into when he first arrived and Jessica landed his car on the beach.
“What are you doing? Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time we took this detour?” She gripped the door handle, ready to bail out if necessary. And here she thought she’d tamed the man.
“Don’t worry.” He patted the steering wheel. “I’m driving this time. Hop out and lift that arm.”
“If you’re really all that interested in coming to this beach, we can do it when it’s open. Sane people typically go to the beach during the day, you know when the sun’s out.”
“Are you accusing me of being sane?” He revved the powerful engine and laughed like a lunatic. “I’m going to have to start working on my image again.”
“Your image doesn’t need any work. You’re the best damned soccer player in the MLS.”
“My boss demands nothing less from me.” He reached across her and popped open the door. “Now go lift that arm.”S he sighed, mumbling about mad dogs and Englishmen, but she slid out of the car and lifted the parking arm as high as it would go.
Simon eased the Ferrari underneath and motioned for her to get back inside. At least he knew how to control the car, and they crawled across the parking lot settling on a slot at the edge of the beach, facing the water.
He cut the engine, and the sound of the waves rushing onto the sand filled the night air. They sat silently, and Jessica leaned her head back against the seat, her breathing matching the rhythm of the ocean.
Simon took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, pressing his lips against her throbbing pulse. A deep contentment soaked into her chest. She had it all, and this man had given it to her.
“Jessica, I’ve been thinking about your trust fund.” She jerked her hand out of his grasp. “You have?”
“You want to get your hands on it once and for all, don’t you?”
A sliver of moonlight cast a glow on his bright hair, making him look angelic. But she knew better, and the serious furrow between his brows didn’t fool her for a minute.
“Yes, yes I do.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I want all that money, and I’m going to buy even more soccer teams, maybe even a ping pong team. I’ll out-sports-mogul my father if I have to buy ten ping pong teams.” He slid a glance her way. “Can you really buy a ping pong team?”
“Get to the plan.”
“You have to stay married for two years, right?” She nodded, excitement bubbling through her body like that white foam cascading along the sand, and Simon continued. “I know you tried it with Jimmy Doe, and things didn’t exactly work out, but I don’t wear black guy-liner and I’m not into threesomes.”
She coughed, and he amended, “Anymore.”
“What are you proposing?” She tilted her chin.
“Let’s get married, stay that way for two years, and grab that trust fund.”
“Hmm.” She drummed her fingers on the console.
“Would I have to stay with you after the two years?”
“That’s the catch.” He swept both of her hands into his and traced his thumb along the lines criss-crossing her palm. “Once you marry me, I’m afraid it’s for life.”
“Simon...” She threw her arms around his neck and didn’t even mind the gear shift gouging her left thigh.
He kissed every inch of her face and niggled his tongue in her ear to complete the completeness. Then he ran his thumb across the pulse thrumming in her bottom lip.
“Is that a yes, or are you taking the piss?”
“That’s a yes. No piss.”
“Then we need to celebrate in style. It’s been a long time since we did anything wild and crazy.” He cranked on the engine, and the Ferrari roared to life beneath them.
“Not the Hollywood sign. It’s too far. And no running down Sunset naked. Too cold.”
He gripped the steering wheel and quirked his eyebrows at her. “How about a ride along the beach?” Letting out the clutch, Simon pumped the accelerator and his shiny red sports car almost leaped into the air before flying over the beach, churning up sand in its wake.
Jessica screamed, throwing her hands in the air as if she sat in a roller coaster instead of the passenger seat of a Ferrari.
Might as well be a roller coaster since life with her highpriced soccer star promised plenty of ups and downs.
And she planned to hold on for dear life.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue