Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match)

by Malone, Nana

  He glanced up at the sky. “Yeah, I think you’re probably right.”

  She ignored him. “We’ll get some photos of you in your house later today with a minimized crew. Sound good?”

  It wasn’t really a question, more a quiet directive. “Yeah, sounds fine,” he muttered under his breath. There was something in the way she didn’t look at him.

  She settled herself behind her tripod and metered the light. She adjusted her lens, then cast him a glance that gave him an inside-out chill. When she approached him again, camera in hand, her death glare filled him with dread. With her every step, he wasn’t sure what to do, where to look.

  Her lips turned up, revealing straight even teeth as she reached him. He attempted to swallow around the lump in his throat. Just because she showed her teeth didn’t mean it was a smile.

  “You don’t look relaxed. I’ll need you to loosen up a bit.”

  He nodded and took a deep breath as he waited for his annihilation.

  She leaned into him, dropping her voice low enough so only he could hear. “Jason?”

  Unable to think for the fog in his brain, he leaned into her and muttered, “Mmm?”

  Her non-smile deepened, displaying sweet dimples he longed to kiss. “The last guy who messed with my kid’s feelings ended up with no left nut. Care to take your chances?”

  His ears buzzed, brain unwilling to process her statement. “Uh, n—no.”

  She grinned at him, and her eyes twinkled. “I’m glad to hear it.” She turned to walk back to her tripod, but paused. “Oh, and by the way, I expect you to apologize.”

  Not entirely sure if he should worry for his left nut, Jason took his position at the net and followed direction as best he could for the next two hours. Most photo shoots took a lot of energy and effort, but Izzy was easy to work with. She kept to the range of things that were comfortable for him, attuned to him and his not-quite-healed injury. He even started to have fun when he started lobbing shots over the net and managed to make her smile a few times.

  The earlier tension seemed, for the moment, abated, replaced by something that felt familiar. Not to mention she was good at what she did. He knew that from the earlier shoot, but he didn’t take her efforts to make him comfortable in front of the camera for granted. Several times, she called him over show him a photo and ask him to tweak an expression.

  When they moved locations into the house, most of the crew packed the van and prepared to move out, leaving only Izzy, Madeline, and a production assistant.

  He changed into the black shirt and pants the stylist had laid out for him. When the PA positioned him on the couch, shirt parted to reveal some skin, he felt—exposed. The blinds had been closed and let in only a sliver of light. Not that there was much light as the clouds rolled in. Several candles were lit, and artificial lights set up.

  The whole set up made his expansive and impersonal living room warm and intimate. Izzy shooed Madeline and the PA into the kitchen telling them she’d call if she needed them for anything.

  She rearranged his position and stood back to examine him. Frown lines marred her otherwise smooth skin. She reached for him, unbuttoned another button on his shirt. He felt the heat from her fingertips as they grazed his skin. A familiar twitch in his pants throbbed, acting as a reminder of how easily she could affect him. He shifted so she wouldn’t notice and cleared his throat in the wild hopes of clearing his head.

  But by the look on her face, she wouldn’t have noticed a tidal wave. Her eyes were clear, but oddly unfocused as if she saw something else. She stepped back again—analyzed. Frown lines deepened, and she widened the opening on his shirt. This time, when the tips of her fingers grazed his pectoral muscle, an electric charge sent shivers up his arms. His hand snapped out to grab her wrist before she could inflict any more damage.

  All moisture left his mouth as he fought the want, the need, to pull her the five inches he needed to taste her. He watched as her pupils dilated and lips parted in invitation. All he needed was five inches. The tip of her tongue peeked out and moistened her bottom lip. In reflex, his hand flexed on her wrist, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He could take what he wanted, what she wanted. He could pull her in and make the decision for her. But he wouldn’t. If he kissed her now, while she was still pissed, he’d ruin any real chance he had.

  Needing to diffuse the tense electricity, he breathed, “I didn’t realize you wanted beefcake.” He cleared his voice again, not recognizing the husky timber as his own.

  Startled, her eyes focused on his. “What?”

  “Beefcake.”

  She stepped back, forcing him to release her hand. “Oh, sorry. Uhm, not beefcake. More strength, elegance and sex.”

  Jason swore he could see a faint blush tinge her cheeks. He needed her to stop doing that. He wanted to retain his sanity. “A lot of women read Sports Illustrated?”

  Her lips tipped up in a small smile, revealing the briefest hint of dimple as she took position behind the camera again. “You’d be surprised.”

  Maybe he would. He’d be more surprised if the next hours in the house went by as quickly as the hours outside. Now, with no massive crew milling about, no caterers, and no makeup people, it was just him and Izzy and damned uncomfortable. Willing his brain to think about anything other than sex, he brought up the only thing he could think of to relax her. “Can I ask you a question about Nick?”

  ****

  Izzy glanced up from her camera, sneer forming on her lips before she remembered her new mantra. No use being angry with fools. Schooling her expression, she focused on the shot, wanting the safe ground. She needed the shoot over as quickly as possible. Everything he did made her tingle. Made her aware. His movements weren’t deliberate, but her system felt the havoc. He was too close, and she was too pissed at him.

  She was pissed at the world, her mother, and her knack for driving Izzy insane, Simon, Sabrina. The only two she wasn’t angry with, were Jessica and Nick. Now, she had to deal with Jason. How hard could that be? He was only hotter than sin and had broken her heart more times than she cared to count. She could do this. Feign complete indifference. She’d managed it for fifteen years.

  Breathing deep, Izzy forced herself to relax. If she was tense, it came out in her photos.

  “Ask away. He’s my pride and joy.” She switched to the wide angle lens she preferred for portraits, all the while watching him, wary.

  Jason smiled and shifted his position. “You know, your eyes light up when you talk about him. You don’t even light up like that when you talk about your photos.”

  She shrugged and snapped. “It’s a different kind of pride, I guess. From the moment he came into the world, it’s been love at first sight.” Something wasn’t right about the angle. “Can you move back into the shadow?”

  He adjusted until half his face was in the shadow. “Did you know his birth mother?”

  Izzy’s mouth lost all moisture. Of course he would ask the one question not up for discussion. She knew it had to come out, but Sabrina’s name was the last she wanted to utter. I have nothing to hide. I can just tell him. That didn’t stop the waves of nausea.

  She moved to reposition him further into the shadows, careful not to look into his eyes. If he looked at her eyes, he’d be able to read the hurt. She steeled herself for his response.

  The whisper slid off her tongue. “He’s Sabrina’s son.”

  Jason’s head reared back, and his nostrils flared as if the name alone was a slap. “Sabrina’s?”

  Because of his extreme reaction, the tension dissipated in her belly. He thinks Nick is his. Izzy let out a bark of laughter almost dropping her camera in the process.

  “Oh God, Jason, you should see the look on your face.” Racks of laughter dissipated her control. One hand holding her side, she shifted and placed the camera on an end table. She shook her head at him, she said, “He’s not yours. I did the math.” As she sobered, sadness infiltrated her heart. “It was one of the
first things I did.”

  His horrified shock half morphed into something more stoic. “I didn’t think he was mine.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him, smirk in place. “Sure you didn’t. Your subconscious probably put two and two together when you saw him. It’s hard not to. He looks a lot like her.”

  Jason’s breath blew out, steady but harsh. “I didn’t realize it at first, but now that you’ve said it, he does look like her, especially around the eyes.” As if suddenly all the unanswered questions started to rattle in his brain, he asked, “But why does he call you Mom?”

  With practiced ease, Izzy mentally placed solid stones in the wall around her heart. “Well, you know Sabrina. Motherhood was tough for her to get used to. She needed some help, and I was there. I’ve raised him, sort of a foster mother.”

  “So where is Sabrina now?”

  His frown formed lines in his brow, and she clicked. She turned away and replaced one lens for another. And now for la piece de resistance. “Funny you should ask. She’ll be back in a few days.” Her every nerve ending tensed in anticipation of his response.

  He didn’t react to her statement. Still not satisfied with her answers, he asked, “So how is it you came to raise Sabrina’s son exactly?”

  She cleared her throat and moved back to the safety of the camera, her sanctuary. “When Sabrina found out she was pregnant, we were in an apartment near school. She’d just gotten an internship at Blue House Records.”

  Jason shook his head. “I can’t even picture Sabrina pregnant. She never seemed the type.”

  Izzy smiled wryly. “Yeah, I know. She freaked out about it.” Izzy shrugged. “She’d been dating a couple of guys…”

  Izzy watched Jason’s brow wrinkle. “So she didn’t know who the father was?”

  “No. Or, if she did, she didn’t tell me. Either way, despite her fear, she was determined to keep him.”

  “I had no idea she had that part of her.”

  Izzy shrugged. She was so accustomed to never saying anything negative about Sabrina for Nick’s sake. She didn’t have to hold back to Jason, but she didn’t know where to start. It wasn’t for any love lost with Sabrina. Izzy’s problem was she didn’t know how to be honest about her true feelings for Sabrina.

  “Sabrina’s Sabrina.” She shrugged again. “I think she wanted the baby to prove to herself that she was nothing like her mother.”

  “God, that lady screwed her up.”

  Izzy was tired of making excuses for Sabrina’s behavior. “The sins of our fathers. But at some point Sabrina became an adult. Her choices were her own.” She snapped several photos in succession, enjoying the play of emotions on Jason’s features.

  Jason nodded at that statement. “When did she get bored with the mommy and me stage?”

  “It wasn’t so much she was bored, more didn’t know what to do as a mother. I was still in school, and I’d come back from class to Nick’s crying. Sabrina changed him and fed him, but he was a baby, they cry. She didn’t know how to take it, so she’d leave. The first time, she was gone for two days.”

  Jason stared at her shocked. “You mean she just left him there?”

  Izzy glanced in the direction of the kitchen. She didn’t need the rest of the crew to know her business. “Keep your voice down.” She then added, “I had quit the team by then, so I was home, thank God. But it was scary. I didn’t know if she’d ever come back.”

  She asked Jason to stand and move toward the fireplace and mantle. “Why didn’t you call Social Services?”

  Izzy thought back to the number of times she’d almost made that call, and a fist of ice formed in her belly. “I loved him too much. I didn’t want to put him in the system.”

  “What the hell did she say to you when she got back?”

  “You know Sabrina. She pretended all was well. Came back with toys for Nick and a new outfit for me.”

  Incredulous, Jason asked, “You didn’t read her the riot act?”

  Izzy repositioned the lights around him. “I’ve never been good at confrontation. And after Dad and everything with the team, I was broken in some way. I couldn’t confront her and she knew it.”

  “Bullshit. You used to read me the riot act all the time. Your temper was never too far behind your smile. Why did you quit the team?”

  Oh boy. Izzy could only deal with one thing at a time so she deftly avoided the topics. “I guess after Dad died, I had no one to play for anymore. I lost track of who I played for most of the time. It’s a long story. Anyway, Sabrina developed a pattern of running off, usually for days at a time, sometimes a week here or there.”

  “You took care of him didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. It became a real problem once when Nick was sick. Pneumonia. I took him to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me make decisions for him. It took me a day to track her down.”

  Jason stared at her and worked his jaw. “Jesus, Izzy.”

  “Don’t I know it? She cared about Nick enough to not want anything to happen to him. At first she only gave me custodial rights. Eventually, she signed over guardianship to me.”

  “I can’t even fathom that. You were only a kid.”

  Izzy hadn’t been able to either. “My mom was around then. Helped me out.” She shrugged. “When he was four, Sabrina vanished for six months. He’s called me Mom ever since. Just never in front of Sabrina. She’d never have been able to take that.”

  Jason looked contemplative. “So she just shows up when she likes.”

  When he put it like that, it didn’t seem like such a good idea. “I try and do what’s best for Nick. It’s not easy but I have to do it. She’s his mother.” Izzy moved in for close-ups of his face.

  His lips formed a thin harsh line. “You’re his mother.”

  Adjusting her lens, she said, “Loosen up your face. The shadows make you look angry and predatory.” When he did so, she said, “She’s his mother. I’m just the one who gives him love like one.”

  Jason looked out the window that faced the courts. “You gave him plenty. He turned out okay so far.”

  Izzy didn’t know what to do with the compliment. It was all she’d ever wanted to hear from anyone. “Thanks.” Then, because they were in a rapidly darkening living room and he was too close for comfort, she coughed and changed the subject. “So, why don’t you tell me about your friends, the paparazzi.” She could have bitten her tongue. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She didn’t want to talk about the other night. “Never mind, forget I said that. As long as you apologize to Nick, we’re good.

  “Izzy, I—”

  She held up a hand. “Maybe we should start with something else, less…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say. What did anyone ask a superstar? “What about the messy thing I saw in the paper that one time?” Lame, but it was the best she could do. The close quarters were messing with her synapses.

  She couldn’t read the entire look on his face, but there was something hard about his expression. “Which mess? Because if you believe the tabloids, I’m in a few messes.”

  She told herself she wouldn’t ask about his love life. Not that she cared either way. She told herself who he dated was none of her business. She wasn’t interested. Liar. “Let’s start with your love life. To hear it told, you’re the Lothario of Malibu.”

  He barked out a laugh with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Why so interested? You jealous?”

  Izzy scoffed and rolled her eyes. Then wondered if the effect was too much. “What do I care about your love life? Though you took a ridiculous interest in mine.”

  Jason only shrugged. “I need a break from dating and the whole scene.”

  A break? Izzy could only imagine what it must be like to have a social calendar so full she needed a break. “What? You need a break from the throng of beautiful women?”

  As if recalling his question about Simon, he quirked his lips into a wry smile. “The only people’s happiness most of those women care about is their ow
n. Take Cienna for example. I’m pretty sure her publicist leaked rumors of the impending nuptials. It ups her status with the tabloids.”

  For a moment, with the shadow on his face, there was a vulnerability she couldn’t place. She hoped she’d never know what it felt like to have herself used as a means to get ahead. “I’m sorry, I’d hate to be used like that.”

  He shrugged as if unfazed. “It’s a game we all play. The press can act as life-giving nectar, or they can rip your foundation out with a jackhammer. It’s just how it is.”

  She nodded as if she understood, though Izzy was so far removed from the world of the rich and famous it was laughable. “Is that what happened with you and your trainer? Did he jackhammer at your foundation?”

  He looked shocked, and she rushed to add, “I have a tendency for prying. So tell me to shut up if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “No. It’s okay. Michaels was a good trainer for a while. But then he got greedy like a lot of people do. Before I knew it, he’d do anything to win. Couldn’t stick by a losing horse.”

  “I’m sorry he lost confidence in you. But he’ll be sorry in the end.”

  “Don’t be so quick to pick sides. How do you know I’m not a losing horse?”

  She shrugged. “I just know.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, and she adjusted the angle of her camera and took the shot. Instinctively, she knew that was the one photo she’d request for the cover. The combination of regret, gratitude and determination was powerful.

  He cleared his throat. “One minute I’m on my way back to the top. The next, I’m parting ways with my longtime trainer. Everyone thinks I’m nuts, but I couldn’t work with the guy anymore. Not after what he did. It’s all about to blow up in my face probably. Then it’s bye-bye to my career.”

  He looked haunted. Izzy resisted the urge to touch and comfort him. “I doubt it. You always manage to come out on top. When you want to, you work harder than anybody I’ve ever seen. Everybody will see that come Wimbledon.”

  His expression was self-deprecating. “I don’t know about that. They would prefer the bad boy stay the bad boy. I’d mess with their world view if I stopped acting like—what did you call me? Oh yeah, an overindulged child. Now they’ll see me as the guy that ruined several careers.”