I'll Catch You (Kimani Romance)

by Farrah Rochon

  Payton gripped the armrest as the plane rocked again.

  She had known their impending conversation would have to happen eventually. They couldn’t go on the way they had these past few weeks, not if they were to have a successful business partnership. But what if he no longer wanted to be in business with her? Sure, he’d signed a contract, but she was in contract law. She knew better than most that contracts were broken everyday. Maybe Cedric thought it was worth the cost of exercising the exit clause to get out of his deal with her.

  The thought of losing her only client brought on an instant panic attack, but that was nothing compared to the panic she felt at the thought of word getting out that she’d slept with her only client. Her heart raced like a thoroughbred, pumping erratically as Payton imagined the field day sports bloggers would have with that kind of story. It would be open season on the few female sports agents who’d worked so hard to be taken seriously in this business.

  Calm down, Payton reminded herself.

  She was jumping to conclusions. No one would find out about that morning in her apartment. As angry as he may be with her at the moment, Payton trusted Cedric not to reveal their indiscretion to anyone.

  And as for losing him as a client, she couldn’t believe he would sever their professional partnership, either. She had been great for Cedric’s career. As far as the press was concerned, bad-boy Cedric Reeves had done a complete one-eighty. The only stories being written up about him were to highlight his amazing work on the football field and the charity work she had encouraged. No fights with fans. No wild partying. Nothing negative whatsoever. Cedric would be a fool to drop her as his agent.

  No, that’s not what he wanted to talk to her about, Payton surmised. It was their other relationship; the one Payton had been fighting since the moment their eyes first connected in the locker room after that Sabers game at the start of the season. She’d told them both for months that they would have to squash those feelings, knowing that any romantic entanglements with Cedric would be the death of her short career as an agent.

  But over the past couple of weeks, Payton had begun to question that line of thinking. A person couldn’t help whom they were attracted to.

  Yet when she thought of opening herself to the possibility of exploring something more with Cedric, images of the myriad of beautiful women he’d been linked to over the past few years floated across her mind. How could she be sure he would ever truly give up his playboy lifestyle and commit to a serious relationship?

  “Passengers and flight attendants prepare for landing,” crackled the captain’s voice over the loudspeaker.

  Payton nestled her head against the headrest as the aircraft made its descent. She had no idea what to do about her feelings for Cedric. The one thing she did know was that things had to change. They couldn’t continue the avoidance dance they’d been engaged in these past few weeks.

  She and Cedric would air everything out and decide how to move forward. They had an hour-and-a-half drive from the airport to Manchac. Nothing like being confined to a rental car to force conversation.

  When Payton deplaned, Cedric was waiting for her just outside the arrival gate, his duffel bag strapped over one shoulder.

  “Did you check a bag?” he asked. The chill in his voice that she’d been subjected to since calling him on Monday was mysteriously missing.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I’m staying a few extra days. I haven’t seen my mom since the spring,” she continued, as if she needed to justify traveling with more luggage than he had brought.

  “That’s a good idea. I’m sure your mom is happy to have you home for a while.”

  “Uh, yeah. She is.”

  Was this what he’d meant by talk? They would just ease back into normal conversation as if they had not spent the past few weeks avoiding each other the way an anorexic avoids a buffet? What would that solve? She had spent the past three hours preparing rebuttals to every accusation her brain could imagine. Payton felt almost…disappointed.

  Bags were already making the loop around the carousel when they arrived. Payton reached for hers, but Cedric put a hand to her arm, holding her back.

  “This one?” he asked as he lifted the bag from the carousel.

  “Yes, thanks,” Payton replied.

  Instead of handing her bag over to her, he pulled up the handle and looked around the airport’s baggage area. “How do we get to where we’re going?”

  “I rented a car,” she said, leading the way to the car rental company. The car she’d reserved online was already waiting when they got there. Cedric put her bags in the trunk, then went around to the driver’s side.

  Payton closed the keys in her fist and shook her head. “I’m driving.”

  “No way,” he said.

  “You don’t even know where you are, or where you’re going, for that matter.”

  “You’ll tell me. If not, my phone has a navigation app.” He leaned against the driver’s side door, his arms crossed over his chest. “Call me sexist, but I don’t ride in the passenger seat while a woman drives.”

  Payton rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she relented, handing him the keys and climbing into the other side of the car.

  It wasn’t until they’d made it through the airport traffic and had traveled on the interstate for about ten minutes that he spoke again.

  “You ready to talk?” he asked.

  Payton jerked her gaze to him. “I thought we had been talking.”

  The look he shot her way told Payton her first instincts were dead-on. Idle chitchat was not what he’d had in mind. It had been a buffer, nothing more.

  “Okay,” Payton said after a deep breath. She was prepared for this. “Talk.”

  “I won’t have another week like the three we’ve just had,” he started. “That was Gus’s way of doing things, avoiding my phone calls, shooting me an email every now and then to pacify me. I refuse to go back to that, Payton.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She had been the one to dictate their communication over the past few weeks. He had tried calling the Sunday afternoon after he’d left her apartment, but Payton had let both calls go to voice mail. He’d caught on pretty quickly thereafter, sticking to emails and text messages.

  Could this rift have been avoided if she’d simply picked up the phone and aired things out with him that Sunday? Payton clenched her eyes tight. Way to be a professional.

  “I really am sorry, Cedric.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” he replied. He took a deep breath. “I pushed you that morning, after Torrian’s party. I knew where you stood, but I wanted you and the only thing I cared about at that moment was having you. I know it makes me a bastard, but it’s the truth.”

  Payton’s stomach clenched. She’d replayed that morning over and over in her head, remembering the way they’d made love and trying to convince herself they shouldn’t do it again.

  “So, where does that leave us?” she asked.

  “Nothing’s changed,” he stated. “I still want you, Payton. I know you don’t think we should be together, but I’ve never felt this way with anyone else. Everything is just so easy when I’m with you. So…right.”

  The emotions in her head waged a war with what she was feeling in her heart. “You have no idea how many times this has played back and forth in my mind,” she said. “As right as it may feel, I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “I’m going to prove to you that it is,” he said. “We’re right for each other, Payton. Sooner or later, I’m going to make you see that.”

  Chapter 12

  Cedric put his fork down and excused himself from the table before he could request a third helping of peach cobbler from the ladies of Manchac High School’s cafeteria. If his high school had had food like this, he would have had to take up sumo wrestling instead of football.

  He shook a few hands as he made his way out of the auditorium where a banquet honoring the top performers on the school’s football
team was being held. Exiting through a side door, Cedric stepped into the crisp, clean air and inhaled a deep breath. He needed to clear his mind.

  When they had arrived in Manchac earlier that afternoon, Payton had dropped him off at his hotel before heading to her mother’s where she would be spending the weekend. It had taken a Herculean dose of restraint to stop himself from begging her to join him in his hotel suite. Thoughts of her consumed him—mind and body; to the very depths of his soul. He had to figure out a way to convince that woman that they were meant to be together.

  Cedric reentered the school building and headed back for the auditorium, but he spotted movement at the end of a darkened hallway. He could recognize that form from a mile away; it haunted him in his sleep. He walked toward her as quietly as possible, though quiet was hard to accomplish on the tiled flooring of the high school’s corridor.

  Payton didn’t turn, even though Cedric knew she had to have heard him as he approached. She stood before a huge glass-encased trophy display that spanned at least fifteen feet across. The brag shelves were located right off the school’s front entrance, where everyone could see them when they entered the building.

  Payton stood with her arms crossed, staring at the trophies, plaques, ribbons and pictures. Cedric’s eyes zeroed in on a picture of a well-built man in a Manchac Mustangs baseball cap. He was surrounded by players, two of them hoisting a huge trophy over their heads. On the man’s shoulders was a little girl of about five, a too-big baseball cap shielding her eyes and a familiar smile gracing her lips.

  “He was always larger than life,” Payton said with a wistful murmur.

  “He affected a lot of lives,” Cedric replied. He nodded toward the auditorium. “I thought the line of former players wanting to say a few words about Coach Moe would never end.”

  A smile touched Payton’s lips. “He would be cursing up a storm over tonight—too much hoopla. He never liked it when people fussed over him. He was the most no-nonsense guy you’d ever meet.” She tilted her head to the side, still staring at the trophy case. After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, she said, “He would have liked you.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “Running back was his favorite position. He said quarterbacks and wide receivers always got the praise for their fancy work in the air, but running backs were the workhorses. Without their legs on the ground, the offense doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “Smart man. I think I would have liked your dad.”

  “Everybody loved my dad, even the players who were intimidated by that big, deep voice.”

  “If he could have played ball, you think he would have been a running back?”

  “Nah.” She shook her head. “Too much brawn. He would have been a defensive player. But he still loved your position. In fact, that’s how I got my name.” She glanced over at him. “Walter Payton. Greatest running back to ever play the game.”

  “Your dad was right. Footage of Walter Payton’s days with Chicago is required viewing for every member of the Sabers running core. He’s hard to emulate, though.”

  “You’re not too bad,” Payton said, her mouth tipping up at the corner in the kind of smile that made him want to kiss her.

  Stepping away from the trophy case, she walked a few steps over to a colorful bulletin board with flyers about everything from a 4-H bake sale to the final pep rally of the season, which would take place tomorrow afternoon in the school gymnasium.

  “Being back here reminds me of why I left to do this in the first place. To become an agent,” she clarified. “This place, this game, it was his life. My dad would be so proud of me for taking that leap.”

  “He is,” Cedric said.

  Her eyes traveled back to that picture of her father carrying her on his shoulders. “Yeah, he is.”

  As he studied her profile while she smiled fondly at the photograph, Cedric accepted the inevitable.

  He was totally, completely, indelibly in love with her.

  He couldn’t pinpoint what did it. Maybe it was her love and knowledge of the game that had always meant so much to him. Or how easily she could make him laugh, sometimes just by smiling. More than likely it was a combination of all of those things that made Payton the most amazing woman he’d ever encountered. One thing he knew for certain, he loved her.

  The question was, what was he going to do about it?

  He had to be smart in his approach. His last attempt to take things to the next level had nearly cost him the most important thing: her.

  When he recalled the hurt and sadness he’d felt over the last few weeks when they had been separated… Cedric would take a knife to the gut before he put himself through that again.

  There had to be something he could do. It didn’t matter how long it took, he was going to figure out a way to make Payton his.

  Payton jumped to her feet as Manchac’s star running back scampered down the field on a sixty-three-yard run for a touchdown, bringing the score in the school’s longest-running rivalry to twenty to six.

  “I bet your dad would be loving this,” Cedric said over the roar of cheers.

  “Oh, he would have been running down the sideline right along with the running back. Dad lived for this.” She nudged Cedric’s shoulder as they took their seats on the bleachers. With a grin, she said, “You may have to watch out. That running back is no joke. He may be gunning for your job in the next few years.”

  “Nah, I’ll be long gone by the time he gets to the NFL. Shelf life for a running back isn’t all that long.”

  Payton waited until the point-after kick was up in the air and through the goal posts before she asked, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do once you’re done with football? You’d probably make a good sideline analyst.”

  Cedric shook his head and adjusted his legs in the limited space the packed bleachers afforded. “My degree is in physical therapy. I’ll get my certification and work as a therapist.”

  “With the Sabers?”

  “No.” He was quiet for so long Payton thought that was the end of it, but then he said, “There’s a group home in Woodbridge, New Jersey. It’s for adults with disabilities, multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy. Stuff like that.” Turning his attention back to the field, he paused for another long stretch before saying, “My brother is there.”

  A bolt of shock zipped through her. A brother? Payton was stunned. She’d researched Cedric thoroughly before seeking him out as a client. She’d never run across a brother.

  “My twin brother,” Cedric expounded, as if he’d read her thoughts. “Derek. He was born with cerebral palsy.” He glanced over at her again. “He’s the main reason I don’t want to leave the Sabers. I’m only an hour away from Woodbridge. I drive down to see him every chance I get.”

  Payton remained silent. She couldn’t help staring at this man she’d misjudged on so many levels before getting to know him. What a surprise he’d turned out to be.

  Eventually she returned her eyes to the field, but her brain continued to ruminate over what Cedric had just revealed and, more importantly, the fact that he’d revealed it to her. His brother’s existence was not common knowledge. In fact, Payton would bet it was something Cedric had worked hard to keep out of the public eye. With all the articles that had been written about him over the years, not a single reporter had discovered he had a twin brother. If they had, surely she would have uncovered it.

  But she hadn’t had to uncover anything. He’d told her outright. He trusted her with this part of his life.

  Payton was relieved the game ended at that moment. She could blame the tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks on the heightened emotion of the team winning one for her dad on this night dedicated to his memory. But the tears were for herself and what she would miss out on with the man sitting next to her.

  If circumstances were different, they could have had something special.

  “Hey, why the tears?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder
s and hugging her to his side. “There’s no crying in football. Unless you’re on the losing team. Then you can cry like a baby and punch out anybody who taunts you for it.”

  “Don’t you go around punching anybody,” Payton chastised with a weak grin.

  “Just kidding.” He chuckled. “My agent has turned me into a new man, remember?”

  The more she learned about him, the more Payton realized just how amazing a man he really was. And, for the most part, it didn’t have anything to do with what she’d done over these past few months. Cedric had been misrepresented in the media, shouldering a reputation he didn’t deserve. All Payton had done over the course of the time they’d worked together was bring more of these good qualities into the limelight.

  “Come on.” He took her wrist as he started for the closest bleacher exit aisle. “I was invited to give the kids a postgame pep talk. The locker room is always more fun after a win.”

  Ten minutes later, Payton found herself submerged in nostalgia, standing toward the back wall of the familiar locker room. There was fresh paint on the walls and the benches sandwiched between the rows of lockers were new, but it was the same old locker room. Coach Moe’s locker room.

  As she watched Cedric over the heads of the high school players still in their dirt-laden uniforms, Payton could only imagine how excited her dad would have been to have a real, live NFL player giving a pep talk to kids from little ol’ Manchac High. He’d probably have the same look of awe Payton witnessed on just about every face in the locker room.

  How proud would her dad have been, knowing that she was the one who’d made this happen for the kids.

  I did it for you, too, Daddy. She’d never felt as close to her dad as she did at this very moment. This moment was why she’d sacrificed it all. Why she’d followed her heart.

  This moment made it all worth it.

  Payton held back the tears that threatened to spill over. Cedric was right, there was no crying in football. Instead, a grin so wide it hurt her cheeks spread across her face.