“Maggie’s, huh? If you don’t want Em to know, I suggest you head to your room. She’ll be out here any second to fix breakfast.” Alex grabbed his arm to stop him. “And I hope you’re practicing safe sex, Dad. That’s my mother-in-law you’re messing around with.”
Jake glared at him and stomped toward his bedroom followed by his son’s laughter. Alex should only know how irresponsible his father had been.
By the time Jake finished showering and shaving, his son had already left for work. Emma had been doing all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry since she’d moved in. When Jake finally meandered back to the kitchen, she placed a stack of steaming blueberry pancakes at his place and poured him a cup of coffee and orange juice.
“You know, Emma, I appreciate all of your help, but you don’t have to do everything around here. You’re spoiling me.”
“That’s okay, Mr. M. Alex and I want to pay our own way and do our share.”
It seemed, no matter what he did, Emma refused to warm back up toward him.
He took a bite of blueberry pancakes and let out a soft groan. “Umm, these are incredible. Alex must’ve gone to work a happy man. Did your mother teach you to cook?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded and wiped off the counter. “We cooked a lot together. Whenever my dad was gone for more than just a couple of nights, we made him a feast when he came home.” Every chance she got, Emma rubbed Jake’s nose in her parents’ happy home life. Roxanne had never been very domestic. The cozy Norman Rockwell scene Emma painted whenever she spoke of Dan twisted Jake’s gut in a knot.
He had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out there was one aspect of her mom’s marriage that hadn’t made her happy. Of course, Emma wouldn’t know anything about that.
It was eight-thirty by the time he downed his second cup of coffee and finished reading the morning paper. After placing his plate and silverware in the dishwasher, he strode into his study and picked up the phone to call Maggie. It rang six times before she finally answered.
“Hi, Sweetheart, I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No.” Her voice sounded funny—as if she might have been crying....
“I called to tell you how incredible last night was. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”
“I can’t do this with you, Jake. Please stop knocking on my door. There’s no reason for us to have anything to do with each other until our grandchild is born.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “What the hell do you mean? Last night was a perfect reason for us to have everything to do with each other.”
“Look.” She huffed. “I won’t deny we sizzle together.”
“Sizzle? We generate more heat than a nuclear blast.”
“Exactly. You taught me a valuable lesson nineteen years ago. This time I’m not confusing lust with love. Don’t call me anymore unless it has something to do with the kids.”
The line clicked and then buzzed in his ear. Staring at the dead receiver, he slammed it down in its cradle. Damn it. Why did she keep doing this to him? He had to be certifiably crazy to want a relationship with the same woman who’d hurt him before.
Why the hell couldn’t he simply forget her and get on with his life? Sleeping with Maggie was supposed to get her out of his system—not make him plummet head over ass in love with her.
~~~
On Monday morning, Maggie called Simon’s house to cancel their tutoring session. She was exhausted, depressed, and couldn’t motivate herself to even get dressed. She felt bad seeing as she’d already cancelled once on Friday, but she really wouldn’t be any good to him, feeling like this.
“I’m so sorry I can’t work with Simon today, Mrs. Newberry,” she said after his mother answered the call. “I’m still feeling a little under the weather.”
“It’s quite all right. I appreciate what you and Coach Manion are doing for him. I don’t know what you did to light a fire under Simon, but my son is really eager to learn now.”
“You know, Mrs. Newberry, he might be even more interested if you read some of the same books and discussed them at mealtimes. I can recommend a number you’d both enjoy.”
“Oh—uhh, I don’t read much,” Mrs. Newberry confessed.
Exactly.
“When I was in school, I never got the extra help you’re giving Simon. I always wished I could read the books they talk about on TV.”
“You know, it’s never too late to start,” Margie said. “There’re literacy organizations with volunteers who—”
“I know.” Mrs. Newberry sighed. “It’s just too embarrassing to admit that, at thirty-five, I can barely read the instructions on a package of mac n’ cheese.”
Shame was the main reason people didn’t seek help. “I could tutor you, too.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t take up your time that way.”
“Really, you’d be doing me a huge favor.” Margie told Simon’s mother about how empty her foreseeable future seemed and how she needed something to fill her life now that her daughter was leaving home. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about starting an adult book club to encourage the students’ parents to set an example for their kids.”
“That sounds like a great idea. If you really wouldn’t mind helping me, I’d love to join.”
As soon as Margie hung up, she called the superintendent’s office and spoke to Anthony Petrillo about her idea.
“I know providing books for the parents isn’t an expenditure that would benefit the students directly, but in the end, it would. Even if we can’t get the reading material we need, it would be a help if we could just meet in the high school’s library one night a week and have the administration send flyers home with the students in September to promote the club.”
“It sounds like a great plan,” Mr. Petrillo agreed, “but convincing the board to allocate part of the school budget could be tough.”
“Tell them to take the funds from their precious sports programs. I’m not asking for that much money.”
“I know you aren’t. I’ll put it in under new business on the agenda for Thursday night’s board meeting. You’ll need to attend and be prepared to present a summary of your proposal.”
“Thank you so much.” Margie rubbed her stomach, feeling nauseous. “I’ll be there.”
It would take a lot more than a stomach virus to keep her home from this. Now all she needed was that pair of storm trooper boots. If she couldn’t stamp out illiteracy with them, she’d use them to kick the board members’ stingy asses if they turned down her request.
Chapter 16
Alex strolled in from work on Monday evening and found Emma pacing the kitchen. She waved a letter in his face. “Come on, hurry up and open it. I think it’s about our apartment. I’ve been waiting all afternoon.”
He heaved a weary sigh. Damn, he was beat. “You could’ve just read it, Angel.”
“I wouldn’t open your mail.”
“Em, we’re married.” He tore open the envelope and pulled out the page. “You’re welcome to open anything addressed to me.” He scanned the page and smiled. “The apartment is only about seven hundred square feet, but we have two bedrooms. It’s in an old complex, so it’s less than a thousand a month.”
“I’m so relieved!” She flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, by the way, there’s another envelope for you on the counter from the athletic department.”
While he ripped the flap up, she hung on his arm and read it along with him. It wasn’t just an ordinary form letter sent to all the new players. The head coach had written a personal message to him, telling him what an asset the staff believed he would be to the team and how much they looked forward to coaching him.
Alex’s gut knotted as he read the paragraph about how excited the other players were to have Rocket Manion’s son joining their team.
Shit. Nothing like a little pressure.
Emma slid her arms around his neck. “Wow. I bet that makes you feel good.”
“Yeah, rig
ht.” He splayed his hands over the swell of her abdomen. The baby was really growing. She’d been wearing his T-shirts and gym shorts since their wedding, but today she had on a pale yellow maternity top and khaki shorts . “You’ve finally put on one of your outfits.”
“Kristen talked me into it. I went shopping with her, and stopped to visit my mom for a while.” She rubbed his back. “What’s the matter? You look upset.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No. We have an apartment, you love me, and our baby’s growing like a weed. What more could I want?” Other than for the whole world to stop expecting him to be something he couldn’t be. “How’s your mom?”
“Terrible. She wasn’t dressed, and she looked like she’d been crying. I think your father must’ve done something.”
“Did you ever think maybe your mother hurt him? Haven’t you noticed the way he’s been slamming around here this last week like he’s got a burr in his jock strap?”
“Alex, I don’t want to fight about them. I know you’re not responsible for what he does.”
“Where is he?”
“In his study. He’s been in there since I got home.”
He tapped on his father’s door and found him sprawled on the sofa with the blinds drawn and the lights off.
“Dad, can I talk to you?”
His father nodded absently and sat up but continued staring at the floor.
“I got a letter from the university’s head coach this afternoon, telling me how great they all think I am.”
Jake looked at Alex blankly as though he hadn’t said a word. “Good.” He stood and patted Alex’s shoulder. “I think I’ll go visit grandpa and Helen for a while. Tell Emma I won’t be here for dinner tonight.”
Good? That was it? Couldn’t his father see Alex was getting set up to embarrass himself and his family? Maybe he should just look into getting a student loan. Then he could quit football and no one would ever know what a fraud he was.
“Oh.” His father stopped in his tracks. “By the way, Greg stopped by earlier and left this for you.” He handed him an envelope from the top of his desk before striding out the door.
Alex tore it open and pulled out the folded piece of notebook paper.
Hey, Alex—
I wanted to talk to you before I left on vacation, but we’re going sooner than I thought. I know Emma sometimes uses your phone, so I figured I’d better not leave this on your voicemail.
Crunch told me Phil was shooting off his big mouth at the bowling alley last night, saying you’d be sorry for not inviting him to your wedding. So watch your back. It sounds like the A-hole is planning something. And Crunch said he thinks it might have to do with what happened in the field house.
See ya in about a week,
Stench
Shit. Alex crumpled the letter in his fist and punched the armchair. He didn’t need this right now. Maybe he should just tell Emma what happened. It would be better than having her hear it from someone else.
Or maybe not.
If he confessed, she’d think he’d been cheating on her. And he hadn’t. Not really. He’d only asked her to his party by that point, and they weren’t exclusive. If he’d known then how crazy he’d eventually be about her, he never would’ve let it happen.
Of course, it hadn’t helped that he’d been hurt the week before and was worried he wouldn’t be able to play the season’s biggest game. He’d farted around with that jackass Carmichael way too long after practice and had just pulled off his jersey when the last player headed home.
“What are you still doing here,” his dad had asked as he’d wandered through the locker room, making sure everything had been cleaned up for the night.
“Phil suckered me into another dumb-ass contest.”
“Alex, when are you going to stop swallowing his bait?”
“He didn’t believe I could nail a goalpost from the thirty-yard line.”
“What the hell do you care what he believes? You know what you’re capable of.” His dad glanced down the next row of lockers while Alex stripped off his mud-caked pants. “Where is the idiot?”
“He headed home in his uniform. He doesn’t care how filthy that heap of his gets.”
“Well, hurry up. I have a coaches’ meeting in my office. We’re reviewing some game films, so I won’t be home for a while.” Jake pointed at the two butterfly strips on Alex’s forehead. “By the way, how’s that gash doing?”
Earlier that week, Alex’s desk chair had collapsed in homeroom, and he’d banged his head, which had given him a mild concussion. He still wasn’t convinced it had been an accident.
“It’s starting to itch, so I guess it’s healing. The doctor cleared me to play on Saturday.”
As soon as his dad headed for the other end of the field house, Alex strode into the large tiled shower room and stepped under the nozzle at the far corner since it was the only one with any soap nearby.
While he lathered himself, he imagined washing Emma and running his slippery palms over her naked body. He slid his hand south and soaped the boner his erotic daydream had given him. While stroking himself, he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye.
Spinning to face the wall, he glanced over his shoulder. “Brandy, what the hell are you doing in here?”
The girl never stopped flirting with him. She stepped under the spray with him, still wearing her cheerleading practice uniform.
“I saw Phil on his way to the parking lot. He told me you were alone.” She grabbed his soapy hard-on. “He said you might ask me out if I showed you what you were missing.”
“Well, he was wrong.” Alex shoved her hand away. “I’m seeing someone else. And I can take care of myself.”
“You might be able to jerk yourself off, but you can’t do this.” She dropped to her knees in front of him. “And I know prissy Emma would never give you a blow job,” she murmured, wrapping her lips around his hard flesh.
He tried to pull away, but Brandy gripped his haunches tight, sucking him as if he were a giant peppermint stick. His traitorous body betrayed him and rocked with the pulsing suction while she egged him on, massaging his balls.
Ahh, hell. It felt too damn good. He leaned back against the cool tile and closed his eyes, continuing to pump his hips. While he surrendered to the pleasure of her tongue and the hot water pouring over him, he lost himself in the mental image of sinking deep inside Emma.
The rushing water thundered in his ears, drowning out everything except his groans reverberating off the ceramic walls as the pressure built in his lower half. After a full minute of mindless thrusting, he finally exploded in Brandy’s mouth to the echo of whistles and applause.
Alex’s eyelids snapped up like two window shades, and he discovered eight teammates and Phil watching them.
The son of a bitch had set him up. Carmichael knew how eager Brandy was to date Alex. After suggesting the BJ, Phil must have invited every guy left in the parking lot back to the field house to be an audience for their sex show.
The perverts all tugged at their straining crotches, implying they had probably watched the entire time Alex groaned and writhed against the wall.
Brandy gazed up at him, looking equally shocked and mortified.
Although the girl had forced her attentions on him, he couldn’t help but pity her. He would hand his position as team captain to Carmichael before he’d let the bastard have the satisfaction of seeing him humiliated in front of his teammates.
“Are you assholes really that hard up for a free peep show?” He forced a bravado-laden laugh past the shame clogging his throat and yelled, “Get the fuck outta here! Can’t you see we’re busy?”
~~~
On Wednesday, Maggie finally forced herself to get dressed. Being heartsick wasn’t quite the same as being physically ill. She couldn’t cancel Simon’s tutoring again, not when the boy had finally gotten motivated.
After spending an hour listening to him read, she shook her head in shock. “I ca
n’t believe how far you’ve come.”
He flashed an abashed smile at her. “The coach asked Tina Sutton to help me.”
Ah-ha, Simon wanted to impress a girl. Probably a very pretty one judging from the pink tinge in his cheeks.
“Sutton? Is she related to the girl who was killed in that awful crash last winter?”
“Leah was her sister. Coach told me I’d be helping Tina, too, if I let her tutor me, ‘cause she needs something to get her mind off what happened.”
Jake’s instincts with the kids never ceased to amaze Margie. Why couldn’t he be that insightful with her?
“I didn’t think I could ever read. But you and Tina made me believe if I just kept working at it....” Simon shrugged his broad shoulders. “I guess I’m in a hurry now.”
“I’m so glad. If you’re going to work this hard on your own, I think we can cut our sessions back to just Mondays and Fridays. Bring Tina with you one day, and I’ll show her some ways she can help you even more.”
After Simon left, Margie wandered into the bedroom and threw herself down on the summer-weight quilt to wallow in her misery. She had to stop dwelling on Jake. The week since she’d seen him had seemed more like a month. What she needed was to get out of the house.
She called Emma and invited her to the mall, but Alex was leaving work early so he could go with her to the doctor’s for her prenatal visit.
An hour later, while sorting through the sale racks in Macy’s, another wave of nausea and dizziness swept over Margie. She hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a week.
She wandered around the mall’s food court, deciding what to have, and froze as Jake stepped into her path. They stared at each other for several seconds. He looked nearly as tired as she felt. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, unable to force herself to look away. “And don’t even try to tell me this is a coincidence.”
Raising his eyebrows, he smirked at her. “Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t.”
“You know darn well it isn’t.” She glared at him. “You were there when I called Emma, weren’t you?” The world spun again, and she swayed as she put her hand to her head.
A Little Bit of Déjà Vu Page 23
