Playing for Keeps (Feeling the Heat Book 6)

by Alison Packard

  The door swung open and at the sight of her mother’s reflection in the mirror, dread pooled in Amy’s stomach. Celeste Vaughn, or Massey if she was still using her second husband’s name, closed the door behind her. “So you came back.” Her hazel eyes, which were so like Danny’s, were hard and cold with bitterness.

  Amy turned off the faucet and pulled a paper towel from the dispenser. “Obviously,” she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “Why are you here?” Celeste demanded. “To gloat?”

  “What would I have to gloat about?” Amy asked as she dried her hands and then dropped the paper towel in the trash can beside the sink.

  “Paul could never get past your vicious lies. He divorced me and found someone else.”

  “Really? Does she have a young daughter?” Unable to conceal her disgust, she turned and faced the woman she used to love. “I hope like hell she doesn’t.”

  “Shut up.” Celeste’s face twisted with outrage. “You made up that story to get back at me for marrying Paul after your father died.”

  “You didn’t even wait two months after Dad died to hook up with him.” Amy clenched her fists as white-hot resentment burned through her veins like fire. “And I never lied about what that monster tried to do to me. But instead of believing me you sent me to live with that religious nut sister of yours.”

  “What else could I do?” Celeste waved a dismissive hand. “You were out of control. Telling lies, staying out late, and having sex with anything that wore pants.”

  “I wasn’t having sex with anyone. And I was damn lucky I was able to fend off that psycho you called a husband. Would you have cared if he’d molested me?” she demanded angrily. “Or would you have turned a blind eye to it so you could keep him in your bed?”

  Celeste’s hand shot up, but Amy’s reflexes were quicker. She blocked the intended slap easily and wrapped her fingers around her mother’s slender wrist and tightened them like a vise. Her mother winced, but at this point Amy was beyond caring. She wanted her mother to suffer the same way she’d suffered. “It took a while, but I finally figured it out. Remember all those book club meetings you used to go to? How is it I never saw you crack open a book? And how about those weekly lunches with friends that never came by the house. And then there were those long weekend trips to visit Aunt Helen every couple of months.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “Funny thing about that. Aunt Helen told me you left Barstow when you were eighteen and never came back. Not even once. You were cheating on Dad, weren’t you?”

  Guilt flashed in her mother’s eyes a second before she averted them. So it was true. Her kind, loving father had been duped by his supposedly adoring wife. The thought made her sick inside.

  “You have no right to talk to me like that,” Celeste said, superiority creeping into her voice. “I’m your mother. I gave birth to you.”

  Amy couldn’t hold back a snort. “So you’re playing the mom card now? Newsflash, Mother, the act of giving birth doesn’t guarantee respect. It’s what you do afterward that counts.” Disgusted, she released her mother’s wrist and shoved her hand away. “So don’t expect a mother-of-the-year award anytime soon. You don’t deserve it,” she said, and then brushed past Celeste and left the restroom.

  Rick wasn’t sure what could have happened in the diner to change Amy’s mood, but something had, that was for damn sure. When she’d returned from the restroom her demeanor had changed dramatically and their subsequent walk to his SUV had been a silent one with Amy staring straight ahead, her mouth pressed together into a grim line. And when he opened the passenger door for her, she slid inside without saying a word.

  He had some experience with mood swings. Jill’s emotions had been all over the map the first six weeks of her pregnancy. But it wasn’t just a woman thing. After she died, he’d gone through some fucked up mood swings of his own. But Amy’s was so out of the blue he couldn’t help but be concerned. Had he unknowingly done or said something to offend her? Did she want to continue their date, or did she want him to take her home?

  Instead of starting the engine, he shifted in the leather seat and studied her profile. Several seconds passed, but she didn’t move. It was as if she’d become oblivious to her surroundings. “What happened in the diner?” he finally asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied after several seconds, her voice barely audible.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Amy sighed and turned to look at him. The sadness in her eyes affected him in a way he hadn’t expected. Suddenly all he wanted to do was to make whatever pain she was feeling disappear. “You’re right. Something happened, but it didn’t have anything to do with you. My mother was in the diner. I saw her right before our lunch arrived. She followed me to the restroom and we had…words.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  “Ten years.”

  Rick couldn’t imagine not seeing either of his parents for that long. Something bad had to have gone down for Amy and her mother to be estranged for so long. “So I assume your relationship with your mother is one of those complicated things you don’t like to talk about.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Then you don’t have to. Talk about it, I mean. Unless you want to,” he added quickly. “If you do, I’ll listen.”

  An emotion he couldn’t identify flickered in her eyes.

  “I know you’d listen, but—”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she shot back, her tone slightly defensive.

  “You didn’t have to. And it’s okay. We haven’t known each other long.” He gave her a reassuring smile in case she thought the fact that she didn’t feel she could confide in him yet annoyed him. From his own experience he knew how hard it was to open up about something painful. “Are you up for the rest of our date? We don’t have to talk about anything serious. We could just have fun.”

  A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I could use some fun,” she said, then nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Thirty minutes later, Amy sat next to him on the half-full shuttle that took them from the UCSF parking garage into Golden Gate Park. Available parking was even more limited on Sundays so he’d done some research and discovered the shuttle service.

  As the driver stopped the vehicle in front of the California Academy of Sciences building, Amy leaned toward him to peer at the impressive modern structure. “This is on Danny’s list of places he wants to visit. They have a tropical rainforest atrium and a planetarium.”

  Her close proximity stirred Rick’s body to life. He caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and sugar. Sweet and tempting. His groin tightened and his pulse accelerated with a burst of energy. It wasn’t the first time that had happened today. Earlier, when he’d picked her up at her apartment he’d experienced the same reaction. Maybe it was how, even in a pair of jeans and a plain blue sweater, she still looked so beautiful he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Or maybe it was her genuinely delighted reaction when he’d presented her with the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up in a shop near his loft.

  She’d invited him inside while she put them in a vase with water. Her apartment was small and needed updating. But a multi-color afghan draped over the side of the couch, a half-finished jigsaw puzzle on a small square table near the kitchen, and pictures of her and Danny in a large collage on one of the walls gave it a homey feel. Although she didn’t have a lot of possessions, it was obvious from the way Danny talked about her at the youth center that Amy gave her son something money couldn’t buy; unconditional love.

  “Isn’t the roof wild?”

  Amy’s voice cut through his thoughts. Still affected by her soft body, he shifted in his seat and focused on the unique roof. Wild was an apt description. It was as if a large piece of the park had been cut out and lifted to sit on top of the building. Flat at its perimeter, a series of plant-covered domes in various si
zes rose up to form an odd sort of landscape.

  He stared at the roof then turned to look at her. “Do people go up there?”

  “Only if they’re certifiably insane.” She tilted her head back, a smile tugging at her lips. The shadows that had haunted her eyes were gone, but he was still curious as to what had happened between her and her mother to cause them. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

  A low laugh rumbled from his throat. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t plan a walk on the Golden Gate Bridge today.”

  “Walk? On the bridge?” Her eyes grew as round as golf balls. “I don’t even like driving on bridges that high. I have to drive in the lane furthest from the railing and look straight ahead until I get to the other side.” He could feel the shiver that ran through her body. “I’m always scared to death there’ll be some kind of freak accident and my car will go over the side. I’ve never seen an accident on a bridge, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”

  “Oh, it can happen,” he said. “During my rookie year, a drunk driver hit me on the Bay Bridge. I had a motorcycle at the time and while my protective gear shielded me a bit, my injuries were still extensive.”

  “How extensive?”

  “A broken collarbone and some cracked ribs, but the most serious injury was my leg. It was broken in two places. My season was over. I went back to Texas and completed a successful rehab. I was looking forward to spring training, but then Jill died and suddenly baseball didn’t seem so important. I quit playing.”

  She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You lost the most important person in your life. You needed time to heal.”

  The warmth of her fingers reminded him of how long it had been since he’d felt the intimate touch of a woman. It was just his hand, but the effect of her gesture shot through his body like a bullet train. His chest tightened. Jesus. What was wrong with him? Getting aroused while he was talking about the worst time in his life? Who the fuck did that?

  Rick shifted in his seat as several people boarded the shuttle and the driver shut the door. His hand slipped from underneath hers as the shuttle moved forward. He missed her gentle touch, but he had to get his body under control.

  “Some people say I lost what would have been my most productive years career wise, but if I’d come back that next season my heart wouldn’t have been in it. I would have been a detriment to the team and I couldn’t do that to them. They needed a leader, and at the time I could barely take care of myself.”

  “You can’t listen to what other people say. Especially when it comes to something as painful as losing someone you love. There’s no timetable for that.”

  “Yeah. I figured that out.” He paused, unsure if talking about Jill or his reaction to her death was the best topic of discussion on a date with a woman he wanted to get to know a whole lot better. It was definitely time to move on from the heavy stuff. “So now that I know you don’t like bridges, I guess we’ll have to take the ferry if we ever want to go over to Sausalito,” he said with a grin.

  She gazed at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher and then nodded. “A ferry. That’s about my speed.”

  He laughed. “Good. Then you’ll probably be okay with what I have planned next.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “You’ll see.”

  9

  Closing her eyes, Amy tipped her head back and allowed the rays of sunlight that peeked through a break in the clouds to warm her skin. Around her, the cry of the seagulls as they swooped overhead, the raucous laughter of the children playing near the bank of the lake, and the wet slide of the oars as they slipped through the water were a soothing balm on a soul that had lived too long in the desert.

  For ten long years she’d missed this city. It wasn’t until she’d been forced to leave that she realized how she’d taken its uniqueness and accepting spirit for granted. That she would leave again in the near future hurt her heart. She would always associate San Francisco with her father; not even the stressful encounter with her mother could ruin the cherished memories of her childhood.

  Opening her eyes, she found Rick watching her and despite the chilly air, the intimate probe of his gaze sent a flush over her body. Flustered, she gave him a quick smile, then looked toward Strawberry Hill Island where a flock of ducks paddled leisurely near the shore.

  Rick, who had opted for the rowboat instead of the pedal boat when they had checked in at the boathouse, continued to row in smooth, even strokes. Amy zipped up her quilted vest and then looked back at him. With his cheeks flushed from the outdoors and his hair carelessly tousled by the breeze, he could have been a cover model for a men’s magazine. “You’ve rowed before, haven’t you?” she asked.

  Without breaking his rhythm, he nodded. “If I wanted to go fishing with my dad and my brother, I had to learn how to handle a boat. There are a lot of lakes in the Austin area and I think we’ve fished in about all of them.”

  “That’s one thing I’ve never done. Unless you count the time I won a goldfish at the fair when I was ten.”

  Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Nice try, but that doesn’t count.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’ll have you know it took great skill to win that fish.”

  He laughed and shook his head but didn’t contradict her.

  “So how did you discover Stow Lake?” she asked, tucking several loose strands of hair behind her ear.

  “I got bored doing cardio on the machines at the gym so I started coming over here a few days a week to run. The park is huge. I don’t think I’ve seen even half of it. I thought it would be fun to do something outside today. It’s not too cold for you, is it?”

  “No. Not at all,” she assured him, then pointed ahead. “One of the footbridges to the island is coming up. We might see some turtles once we get past it. They like to lie on the fallen tree trunks along the shoreline.”

  The sudden obnoxious squawking of seagulls drew their attention to a young couple in a pedal boat not far from them. A large number of gulls circled overhead as the couple flung chunks of bread in the air for the scavengers to fight over. “Now those gulls won’t leave them alone,” she said. “That’s what happens when you feed them.”

  The woman squealed in disgust when a splatter of bird poop landed on her head. Rick turned toward Amy and grinned. “Better the birds crap on them, than us.”

  “Excellent point,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips at his wry response. Sitting opposite him in the small boat she couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his thighs flexed each time he dipped the oars into the water’s surface and then pulled through the water. She watched him, aware of his power and strength and even more aware of the effect he was having on her body. The heightened beat of her pulse and the warmth tingling down her spine were reactions she couldn’t control, and if she was being honest, she didn’t want to control them.

  With some effort she looked up and her gaze collided with his. Her heart stuttered as a lazy smile tipped up one corner of his mouth. And what a mouth it was. Firm, sensual, and made for—well—for lots of things she had no business thinking about on a rowboat in the middle of a lake in Golden Gate Park. To cover the sexual awareness zinging through her body, she averted her gaze and studied a pair of ducks floating serenely in the water.

  What was happening? Somehow Rick had found a way past her normal defenses. It was more than a little disconcerting. But on the other hand, it was thrilling.

  “How do you like volunteering at the youth club?” she asked as they passed under the footbridge that the park’s walkers and runners used to get to the small island.

  “So far, so good. I’m hoping to get more of the kids involved in physical activity. Even as little as an hour a day makes a difference.” A frown bunched between his eyebrows. “So many of them are glued to their phones.”

  “Danny’s been asking for a phone, but I don’t want him to have one just yet for that
very reason. But I am considering getting him his own tablet for Christmas. Jade says I can probably find a deal online.”

  “My niece is about a year older than Danny. When I went back home at Thanksgiving, she couldn’t wait to tell me she got a laptop for her birthday. My sister-in-law said she accesses her homework assignments online now.”

  “That’s convenient. Danny gets his homework the old-fashioned way; worksheets he brings home.” She gave him a rueful smile. “Luckily for me, I’m still able to help him when he needs it. I may have a problem when he gets to algebra, though.” The boat cleared the bridge and, excited to see a familiar sight, she pointed toward the island. “Look, there’s the waterfall.”

  Rick turned his head and followed her gaze. The rushing water cascaded over an outcropping of rocks behind the walking path that circled the island. Several people had stopped and were taking photos with their phones. “Where does the water come from?” he asked.

  “The waterfall is man-made. There’s some sort of reservoir higher up the hill that feeds it. The Chinese pagoda is up ahead.” She motioned toward the colorful pagoda not far from the waterfall. With its blue roof and red columns, it was a peaceful presence nestled among the trees and lush greenery.

  After a quick glance to gauge the boat traffic, Rick guided them around a couple of pedal boats; a few minutes later he had situated them several yards from the picturesque structure. “It looks authentic,” he commented.

  “It was a gift from San Francisco’s sister city in China. It’s been here as long as I can remember.”