by Jillian Dodd
“Wow. You look … freaking gorgeous,” Danny says breathlessly.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile. “Plus, my dress sort of matches the flowers you sent. They are crazy beautiful.”
“You’re crazy beautiful,” he says. “The flowers are just plain crazy. Do you like them?”
“Like them? Are you kidding? I love them. They are so fun. And silly. But then there are all those roses. They smell amazing. Thank you.”
Danny beams and holds his arm out. “Sorry I’m a little late. I had to take some pictures of Devaney in her homecoming dress. You ready to go?”
“I am.” I take a few steps out into the office.
He falls in step next to me, putting his hand on the small of my back.
“Danny, you’re killing me with that.”
His hand stays put. Clearly, he doesn’t have a clue.
“With what?” he asks, looking perplexed.
I slightly lean back and then pull my hips forward, curving my spine away from his hand.
“My hand? Is that inappropriate?” he asks, finally understanding. “I was just trying to be polite.”
“So, you do that to every woman you walk next to? Because I’m going to have a problem with that.”
“Am I in trouble?” he asks, genuinely looking upset.
The change in his demeanor says everything—that his wife flew off the handle about stuff like this. That he’s used to being scolded.
I take a step toward him, bringing the whole front of my body flat against his, and then wrap my arms around his neck.
“When I press against you like this”—I squirm a little for effect—“does it feel polite?” He shakes his head, so I keep going, “What you might not know, Danny Diamond, is, it doesn’t matter where you touch me; it feels like magic. Your fingers have a power over me. Anytime we are close, my heart beats a little faster, but when you throw in a touch, your adorable smirk, your commercial-worthy voice”—I press my nose to his neck—“and the way you smell, it’s like you’re imprinting a part of you onto me. Every time you do it, I feel elation, quickly followed by an intense flash of sorrow.”
“It makes you sad when I touch you?”
“It makes me remember that you might decide not to keep touching me. When we met, you were married, and you purposely didn’t touch me.”
“I couldn’t. It would have—” he argues.
“I know, but what you don’t realize is that you did touch me. And, believe me, I felt every single accidental brush. When we walked into the restaurant so long ago, you touched the small of my back. Like you did just now. Maybe I didn’t have the same impact on you as you had on me, but—”
“That’s not true,” he states adamantly. “I was a wreck for weeks, trying to decide what to do. I felt like my life had finally gotten started. I had the career of my dreams, I was married, and I had a baby. I came home, wanting to blow it all up, run back to California, and be with you. After you dropped me off at the airport, I sat there and wondered what in the world I was doing. I didn’t want to go home at all. But then I convinced myself that I was starstruck. That it was all ego. Like, Look at me now; I can pull a chick of this caliber because I’m a professional quarterback.”
“But you knew better once you stopped freaking out. That’s why you stopped talking to me.”
“Because I knew it was more. That, in one night, I had fallen in love with you. But I was too afraid to act on it. I was afraid of what would happen if I blew up my life.”
“Afraid you’d lose your daughter,” I say knowingly. “Jadyn told me that your wife threatened you.”
He hangs his head. I kiss his nose in response, causing him to look up into my eyes.
“I don’t want to talk anymore about what could have been back then,” I tell him. “I was just letting you know that, every time you touch me, I feel like we have a future, and if that’s not what you want, save me the heartache. Don’t do it.”
He nods, grins at me, and then puts his hand back where it was, causing me to smile so big, it almost hurts my face. We go down the stairs and follow the path to where a shiny red Ferrari convertible is sitting in the drive.
Danny
“Oh my gosh, Danny. This car is beautiful. It’s a F430 Spider, right?” Jennifer asks, causing my face to light up over the fact that she knows.
“That’s right.”
“You must hardly ever drive it. If that’s the case,” she says with a smirk, “then you should let me drive it to dinner.”
“I don’t drive it as much as I’d like. To be honest, Lori hates this car. It wasn’t even allowed in the garage. Although that’s not a bad thing since the kids were always in and out of it with their bikes and sports gear when they were younger.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t want this scratched up,” she says, delicately running her hand across the hood as she circles the car to look at it from all angles.
“Do you like cars?” I ask.
“I have a thing for exotic cars. When I first started acting, I made a lot of money doing the Sector movies. So, for fun, my friends and I made a list of the most ridiculously expensive cars. I didn’t want to buy one until I saw the Bentley Continental GT3-R. They were really rare at the time. So, the party where I met you, it was a fundraiser for Moon Wish Wine, remember?”
“I remember everything about the night,” I say, just watching her walk the perimeter of my car, taking in every curve.
“I was dating the actor, Knox Daniels, at the time.”
“I definitely remember that. Jadyn was shocked that I could steal you away from the Sexiest Man Alive.”
She giggles. “Well, he is pretty cute, I’ll say that. So if you saw every movie I was in, does that mean you saw all the Daddy’s Angel movies?”
“Oh, yeah. You played a very naughty girl in that series. It was hot.”
“The producer of that series was Riley Johnson. He had a GT3-R and let me drive it. Since then, I’ve been a little obsessed. I have a storage unit with, um, six-ish cars.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a howling laugh. “By six-ish, I mean, there are nine. I made a bet with Riley that, if Daddy’s Angels hit big, he’d sell me the car. I won. It was the start of my collection.”
She moves to the driver’s side, opens the door, and slides in.
“Did I say you could drive?”
“Nope. I figure it’s better to ask for forgiveness later,” she teases, leaning toward me as I slip into the passenger seat next to her.
I’d let her drive anything of mine she wants.
She turns the key and revs the engine, grinning like a maniac at the throaty sound. “Ohmigawd! This is going to be so fun. I hope we are going on the highway.”
“We are now,” I tell her as she backs out of the driveway.
She takes off in the direction I point. Today was sunny and warm, but the temperature cooled when the sun set. Jennifer doesn’t seem to even notice. Her hair is blowing in the breeze. The ruffles on her dress are rippling across her skin. And the grin on her freaking gorgeous face brings me such joy.
She babbles on about the different cars she has, how I will have to come to California to see and drive them, and how responsive the throttle on my car is. Based on her knowledge of cars, I’m thinking she’s not just bullshitting me. I will admit, I am kinda thinking about how responsive my throttle feels whenever she’s around.
I direct her out of our subdivision and onto the freeway. Thankfully, it’s not too busy because she was serious when she said she liked to drive fast. We’ve gone about six miles before I suggest she take the next exit. I take her a different way, but we’re soon turning back into my neighborhood.
“Wait,” she says, “isn’t this where you live?”
“Yeah,” I say, pointing out a couple of more turns. I take the remote out of my pocket and click it, causing the garage door to roll up.
“I thought we were going out? I got dressed up,” she says, looking slightly stricken.
“And you’re wearing orange. Are you cheering for the other team?” I tease.
“Oh, so we are going to the Mackenzies’ to watch the game?” she asks.
I take her hand and help her out of the car, and then I lead her in through the front door.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.” I show her the dining room, where the table is set for dinner and dozens of votive candles flicker softly. “There are some things more important than a Nebraska game.”
Her eyes light up, the candles reflecting in them. She wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me close. “It’s beautiful, Danny.”
I give her a quick kiss on the cheek and then slide a chair out for her. “Please, have a seat.”
“Did you cook?”
“No. I wanted to take you to my favorite restaurant, but Jadyn thought it would be a bad idea. If we were seen together, not only would the press know you were here, but they might also speculate things about us. And those things would be bad for me.”
“Like, because of your endorsements?”
“No one knows that I’m getting a divorce. So, it would have looked a little scandalous.”
She shimmies her shoulders and grins. “I’m feeling a little scandalous. Between the crazy, gorgeous flowers and that exhilarating drive, who knows what I might do? Speaking of that, your car only has, like, five thousand miles on it. What’s up with that? Did you purposely try to keep the milage low? I figured with the way your wife seemed to be into status, it would have gotten driven a lot more.”
“I bought the car with my sign-on bonus when I got drafted. I also bought it when I was a little drunk during Phillip’s bachelor party in Vegas. She always considered my money as our money, and it pissed her off that I hadn’t gotten her approval first. She also didn’t like that I refused to return the car, even after she went nearly ballistic.”
I pour the wine and bring our meal out from the kitchen.
“I’m getting the hang of this,” Jennifer says, raising her glass into the air, “and I like it. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to do the toast.”
I give her a nod.
“To being reckless,” she says, looking straight into my eyes, almost daring me to be exactly that.
Jennifer
We’ve talked all the way through dinner. Although I really just want to strip naked and do it on the table, I’m enjoying getting to know him and understanding his life better.
“The ribs were amazing, and the cheesy corn is literally to die for. I sort of want to bathe in it.”
Danny grins.
I love how easy it is to make him smile. And I find myself wanting to do it. But I realize that it’s not my job to make him happy. He’s either happy with his life and with me in it or he’s not. I have to fight every urge I have to kiss it and make it better, because I know, based on my experience with Troy, it doesn’t work.
I will admit though, part of me wants him to kiss me to fix the shambles that my life has become. I also know I can’t hide out here forever. Pretty soon, I’m going to have to go back to LA. Find somewhere to live. Meet with my agent, assistant, and publicist to figure out what I am contractually bound to do. I know there isn’t too much as I had planned on taking some time off during Troy’s upcoming tour.
“Jadyn told me you came over and spoke with Devaney and went to the spa with her today. I just want you to know, I appreciate that. And it sounds like you gave her some good advice.”
“Ha!” I say with a laugh. “I told her, once an asshole, always an asshole. She decided on her own which category that quarterback fit into. I know last night was rough, but you should be proud of her. She’s a good kid.”
“I have two amazing children, but I can tell high school is going to be tough.”
“I was best friends with a girl who had the coolest family. They did so much together, and they had fun. Everyone wanted to be around them. Me especially. I didn’t get along with my mom, and I certainly never confided in her about anything. My friend told her mom almost everything. Anything she didn’t tell her, we did. I always wanted that kind of family.” I set my napkin on the table. “So, Danny Diamond, dinner is finished. What do you have planned next for our date?”
“Um,” he stutters.
I realize I’m an idiot. Why does my mouth not filter for my brain?
“I don’t mean that I expect anything else. I mean, the flowers, the drive, the dinner, all the candles. It was really special, Danny. I was just going to suggest something, but I didn’t want to if you had something else in mind.”
“What were you thinking?” he asks.
“Well, what would you be doing tonight if I wasn’t here? Like, it’s a normal night in your life.”
“I’d be watching the game next door. Or, if the game was already over, I’d be watching film in my study.”
“Film? Like a movie?” I ask.
“No, like game film of the opponents we’ll be facing next.”
I clap. “Oh, then that’s what I want to do!”
“Really?” he asks, causing me to realize I should have suggested something that included us naked.
He blows out the candles and then leads me into his study. He sits in one of the oversize chairs. I could sit in the matching chair, but I decide not to. Instead, I plop down sideways across his lap with the rest of the second bottle of wine.
He grabs a remote, turning on both the TV and fireplace. I sort of thought that we would be watching a game, but this is like snippets of plays. A football montage.
“What are we looking for?” I ask. “Like, that was a good play by the defense. They stopped the run.”
“Right,” he says. “The hole closed before he could penetrate it.”
“That sounds dirty!” I slap his knee and bust out in laughter.
“Watch this,” he says, scrolling through to another play. “In this one, he got penetration in the backfield.”
“Ohmigawd! Did he enjoy it at least?”
Danny laughs along with me. “Probably not. He got tackled pretty hard. See this defensive back? He’s the best player on the team, and I’ll be his prime target. See how unstoppable he is? How he got right through the offensive line?”
“He came from his blindside and got him from behind,” I say after watching the quarterback take a vicious sack.
Danny raises his eyebrows at me.
“Oh, I just did it, too, and didn’t even notice! What happens when you get it from behind, Danny?”
He stares at me, not sure of what to say, but the corners of his mouth are curled up into a smirk. “I’m trying to think of something fun and sexual to say to make you laugh, but I’m coming up blank. I’ll tell you my favorite one though.”
“What is it?” I ask, leaning closer to him. So close, our lips almost touch when we speak. “He. Could. Go. All. The. Way.”
“Quarterbacks like going all the way, huh?” I flirt, sliding my hand behind his neck and giving him a kiss.
We kiss for a few minutes. Even though I’m a little tipsy, either from being this close to Danny or the wine, I don’t try to move things along. I’m okay with just kissing him.
God, how long has it been since I just made out with someone?
“After that kiss,” he says, “I might need to go to the sideline for a quick blow.”
My eyes get big, but then … “Wait, sideline for a quick blow probably doesn’t mean what my dirty mind is thinking.”
He chuckles and allows his fingers to graze down my arm as he answers, “When someone runs hard down the field, they’ll come over and get some oxygen to help their muscles recover quicker.”
“That’s funny. Oh! Rewind that! Listen to what the announcer just said.”
He hits rewind, and we watch as the chains are brought out to see if it was a first down or not. It’s just short.
The announcer goes, “Well, football is a game of inches.”
“Oh, you have a dirty m
ind,” Danny says. “I have never taken it that way before, now it’s all I’ll think about every time I hear it said.”
“And how many inches do you have?” I shimmy my butt against his lap.
He grabs my hips. And his hands, I realize, are quite large. They splay all the way across my stomach.
“You’d better behave.”
Of course, I am not the kind of girl who behaves, so I press my ass into his lap again and wiggle it.
“Now, you’re in trouble,” he says, tickling my sides.
When I scream out in laughter, he shuts me up with more kisses.
Can I just say that I love the way Danny kisses? Or maybe it’s the way we kiss. You know how, sometimes, you kiss someone, and it just feels sort of off. Like, your tongues collide rather than move in synchrony. Our kissing is not like that. It’s a perfect dance, a rhythm only we can feel. His lips are soft, his tongue firm and demanding, and then there’s the scruff of his facial hair. It’s like perfection. If our relationship were based solely on the way his kisses make me feel, I would live out the rest of my days in a visceral bliss.
The TV blares back on; apparently, it got tired of being on pause while we made out.
“That’s loud,” Danny mutters, barely moving his lips away from mine. He grabs the remote and presses pause again.
“I’m enjoying kissing you,” I tell him as I take the remote and hit play. “But I’m enjoying the football part, too.”
We watch a few more plays, and then Danny points at the screen. “Watch this. The quarterback is going deep. That’s where the defense is vulnerable and something I hope to capitalize on during the game on Monday.”
I grin at him. “He’s going deep, huh?”
He rolls his eyes. “Dang, now everything I say is going to be sexual. Especially when you see the next play. They are close to the goal line, and all they have to do is pound it in.”
I let out a hoot of laughter. He tickles me. I hop off his lap and stand in front of him.
I blow a pretend whistle and signal a penalty. “Illegal use of the hands,” I say, pointing to my sides where he keeps tickling me before dropping back down across his lap.
