by Francis Ray
Ryan let Simon win the argument to drive his car.
Ryan knew he probably would have paid more attention to what was going on in the backseat than the traffic. As it was, he found himself studying his mother, listening to the happiness in her voice, the way she occasionally touched Simon on the arm when she was talking to him. She was comfortable with him. The telling moment came when she stopped talking and began fanning her face.
Moments later the air conditioner in Simon’s Ford kicked up, and Maureen had a fan in her hand that wouldn’t have fit in her purse and a bottle of water. Without words, Simon showed he cared. He hadn’t lied about the hot flashes.
“How did the practice go?” Maureen asked.
“Great.” Simon looked at Ryan in the rearview mirror. “My team beat Ryan’s by four points.”
“Only because Miguel wouldn’t pass,” Ryan pointed out.
Simon flicked on his signal and pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. “I tried to tell you to let me have him on my team.”
“I might have if I hadn’t seen him shoot baskets first,” Ryan admitted. “He has talent, but he’s a little high on his own abilities.”
“A little is putting it mildly.” Simon parked, emerged to open Maureen’s door, then took her arm. “It’s his way or no way. He doesn’t know it, but he won’t start for tomorrow night’s game.”
“Good luck with that.” Ryan helped Traci out and slid his arm around her waist.
“I saw him talking with Jason near the shop today, but he left when he saw me.” Maureen entered the restaurant door Simon held open for all of them. “It looked as if they were arguing.”
Simon frowned. “Are you sure?”
Maureen’s frown matched Simon’s. “I can’t be sure. I asked Jason, of course, because I didn’t want Miguel to tease him as he had the other night. Jason said they were just talking.”
“Don’t worry. It’s probably just that,” Simon told her.
“Table for four, please,” Ryan requested of the hostess.
“This way.” Plucking four menus from a slot, the young woman led them to a table on the far side of the room, which was decorated with an underwater sea theme. “Your server will be here shortly,” she said with a smile and left.
Seated, Maureen picked up the conversation. “Jason drew me a bouquet of flowers since he couldn’t afford real ones. The detailing was perfect. He has a future ahead as an artist if he works and studies hard.”
Simon gazed at Maureen, not even attempting to hide his feelings. “He’s lucky to have you pulling for him.”
“So are the young men you coach,” she said.
“I think they’re all lucky,” Traci said.
“So do I,” Ryan agreed, his mother’s obvious happiness going a long way to help him accept her and Simon dating. “It’s nice to know I was wrong about you.”
“Well, I was right about you,” Simon paused dramatically. “You might be hardheaded, but you’re fair.”
Ryan hadn’t said three words since they left the restaurant and Traci knew why.
No matter how he tried to put it out of his mind, a part of him knew that Simon and Maureen were going upstairs to that big bed of hers to make love. A part of him rebelled at the idea. Maureen had to be feeling just as awkward.
Simon parked by the walk leading to Maureen’s house. The sudden quietness was telling. Traci took matters into her own hands. “Oh, my goodness! I left my purse at the restaurant.”
“You’re sure?” Ryan peered around the backseat.
“Positive,” she answered.
“I’ll take you back to get it.” Simon started the engine again.
“No.” Traci opened her door and got out. “Ryan can take me, if he doesn’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Getting out of the car, he pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “Call and ask them to look for it, and tell them we’re on our way back.”
Traci took the phone, but didn’t dial. “Good night, Maureen, Simon. I had a wonderful time.”
“Good night,” they both said.
“We’d better get back to the restaurant. Good night.” Ryan took Traci’s arm and hurried her to his car, which was parked on the street. “Traci, what are you waiting for? Get the number from information.” Opening the door, he seated her, then went around and got inside and pulled away from the curb. “Your ID and house keys were in your purse. That’s too dangerous. Why are you waiting?”
“Perhaps because I didn’t have a purse. Just my keys, and they’re in my pocket.”
“What?” Ryan stopped in the middle of the street. A horn blared behind them. Signaling, he pulled to the curb. “Explain.”
She leaned so close their breaths mingled. “I figured I’d finally get a chance to see your apartment.”
“You also figured out it would drive me crazy knowing Simon and Mother were together next door.” His forehead touched hers. “It’s still driving me crazy.”
“Only until I get you in bed, and then you’re going to be too busy to think about anything except breathing.” She nipped his bottom lip. “That and all the wicked things I’m going to do to you.”
He quickly put the car in gear and drove off. “What time do you have to be at work?”
“Nine.”
His hand landed on her knee, then swept upward. “That should be enough time.”
It was half past ten. She licked her lips in anticipation.
“Alone again at last.”
Maureen sighed in pleasure as Simon pulled her against his hard length. Her body tingled in that pleasant way whenever she was near him. “And what do you plan to do?”
Simon’s beautiful eyes narrowed. “What I’m not going to do might be a better question.” His hands cupped her firm buttocks, squeezed.
“Simon.” His name trembled over her lips.
“I love the breathy way you say my name.” His lips brushed across hers, then followed the curve of her neck.
“I love how you touch me, equal parts greed and reverence.”
“I’m going to make you a happy woman tonight.” Hand in hand, they started for the stairs.
“I might have been wrong,” Traci said, staring up at Ryan. He was propped up on his elbow, staring down at her.
“About what?” His hand made a lazy circle around her nipple, causing her stomach muscles to clench.
“Elisa said she didn’t remember much of your apartment because she was too busy with other things.” Her hand glided over his chest and downward. “Although she wasn’t telling the truth, I can understand how a woman might not pay attention to her surroundings with the right man. An hour ago I was too busy trying to get your clothes off to notice anything else. All I wanted was for us to be together. Nothing else mattered.”
The hard frown forming on Ryan’s face softened. “The same for me. If I hadn’t gotten inside you, I would have whimpered like a baby.”
The back of her hand brushed across his semi-erection, felt it surge to life. “I never knew it could be this shattering. Or that I could be this greedy.”
“Neither did I,” he confessed, his hand sweeping down to her stomach as he leaned over.
The phone on the bedside rang. Ryan groaned and let his forehead fall against Traci’s.
“I take it you’re on call tonight.”
“Yeah.” Rolling over, he picked up the phone. “Dr. Gilmore.”
“This is Dr. Thomas. We never made it to the hospital with Elisa.”
“What!” Ryan came off the bed and hit the floor. “What do you mean she didn’t make it to the hospital? What happened?”
Wrapping the black sheet around her breasts, Traci got out of bed and held her ear to the phone so she could hear.
“She started hyperventilating. We pulled into a service station. There was a police car, and she yelled she was being kidnapped. By the time things were sorted out, she was gone.”
Ryan cursed under his breath. “When?”
“Shortly after we left,” her father confessed. “We thought we could find her by now.”
Ryan shoved his hand over his head. “Did you tell the police where you were headed with her and why?”
The long pause was Ryan’s answer. “I’ve hired Bledsoe to look for her. He is also going to put his men on the case to visibly watch your place as well as your mother’s and Ms. Evans’s. He thinks she will go underground for a while, then resurface.”
“She’ll need money for that,” Ryan said.
“She has it. Four thousand dollars is missing from my home safe,” Dr. Thomas said. “I’m sorry.”
“You—” Ryan began.
“He’s feeling bad enough, Ryan,” Traci said from beside him. “She’s mentally ill, and there’s nothing he can do to help her.”
“Thanks for the call,” Ryan amended.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Thomas said. The line went dead.
Ryan hung up the phone. “You really are incredible.”
She hugged him. “I just know what it feels like to think no one cares about you.”
Frowning, he tilted her chin up. “I wish I could have been there for you.”
“You’re here now.” Stepping back, she dropped the sheet.
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
Simon had anticipated Miguel’s anger at being benched but it went much further.
“Just because you want to make yourself look good in front of that old bi—”
Simon grabbed Miguel by the jersey before he thought. When the kid’s eyes widened, Simon’s hand clenched tighter. He knew he had crossed the line. Perhaps it was the only thing that might help Miguel. “You have a foul mouth. If you don’t want it washed out with soap, I’d advise you to rethink whatever you were about to say.”
Fear and then defiance flashed in the teenager’s eyes. He clawed at Simon’s hand. “Turn me loose! My lawyer will have you up on charges,” he threatened.
“You can hide behind the law when it suits you, can’t you?” Simon pushed his face closer. “I’ve had all of your attitude I’m going to take. You go down again, and it’s no longer juvie, it’s the big time. Is that what you want in life?”
“Like you care,” he snarled, pushing ineffectually at Simon’s hands.
“Do you give anyone a chance to care? You want your way no matter what.” Simon uncurled his fingers. “You’re selfish and mean-spirited, but you’re young. You can change.”
The teenager straightened his jersey. “I’m doing just fine.”
“Yeah, your parents kicked you out the other day because they’re tired of you stealing from them and, since you won’t keep a job, you’re crashing wherever you can. You come here not because you want to or because the judge orders you to, but because you don’t have any other place to go since your gang fell apart.”
Miguel’s eyes darkened. “You don’t know nothing.”
“I know you’re sinking fast. You can save yourself. You can be something, be a man. The first step is up to you,” Simon told him. “Don’t throw your life away trying to swagger and be a badass. You’ll end up with all the other swaggerers and badasses—in jail—and you’ll find out what hell is really like.”
Fear flashed in the teenager’s eyes. “I’m nobody’s punk.”
“Miguel.” Simon put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, but it was shrugged off. He didn’t want to push too hard, but he wanted Miguel to understand that unless he changed, he was heading for disaster. “Team sport is just like life. It teaches you to rely on others. It lets others know they can rely on you. Bullying or thinking only of yourself won’t get you very far in life or in the game.”
“I’ve heard enough of the psychology crap. If you want to bench me, go ahead. I don’t need a sermon.” Miguel jerked off his jersey and threw it on the floor. “I’m outta here.”
“No, you’re not,” Simon said quietly. “Part of your probation orders are for you to participate with the Sharks at practice and games.”
“Sitting on the bench is for sissies.”
“The other team members haven’t had a problem with it. Now, put on that jersey and let’s get out there.”
They stared at each other. Miguel snatched up the jersey. “One day I’ll pay you back for this.”
“Miguel, threatening a police officer isn’t smart,” Simon said calmly.
The young man feigned innocence and slipped on his jersey. “Just blowing off, man, I mean Lieutenant Dunlap, sir.”
Simon didn’t believe him for a second. “It’s one game, Miguel. Learn from this. Don’t let your anger get you in deeper trouble.”
“I don’t plan to get in no trouble. Not me. Not me at all.” Without another word, he turned and left.
Simon followed him out. Talk and reasoning hadn’t helped. Miguel was full of pride, and tonight it would be bruised a bit. But it was better than a bullet or hard time in the pen. Blowing out a breath, Simon followed the teenager onto the court.
He shook his head on seeing Miguel limping. Then Simon looked in the stands and saw Maureen sitting between Traci and Jason. Ryan sat on the other side of Traci.
Simon’s heart got that crazy feeling it always did when he saw Maureen. He waved, grinned when she waved back. No woman in his life had ever affected him as strongly. He thought about her when he wasn’t with her and, when he was with her, he dreaded the time he’d have to leave her.
She was important to him.
“Dunlap.”
Simon hadn’t realized he’d stopped and stared at Maureen until Bobby called his name. Apparently she had been just as caught up because she’d palmed her face, then laughed when Traci leaned over, spoke into her ear, and nudged her. Yep, they were definitely in this together.
“Dunlap,” Bobby called, teasing laughter in his voice. He’d been married fifteen years and said he couldn’t have wished for a happier life with a more loving woman. With the right woman, living took on an entirely new meaning.
Simon got his feet moving, his gaze moving to Traci, Jason, and Ryan. He waved to them. Jason, his head down, appeared more interested in sketching. Traci wiggled her fingers. Ryan shook his head, then laughed. At least her son finally realized Simon really cared for Maureen.
“Dunlap, keep your mind on the game.” Bobby grinned. “This is the first time my family has been able to come to a game in a while. Let’s not blow it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Simon had won the woman and would win the game. Clapping his hands, he went to his team and called out the starting players. To a man they looked at Miguel, his leg stretched out in front of him while he massaged his thigh.
“Cramps.” Miguel grimaced. “You’ll have to win this one without me.”
The teammates traded suspicious glances. They all knew Miguel would crawl to the court if necessary. He was that arrogant and cocky. The team looked at Simon to confirm what they already suspected. Miguel was lying.
Simon wasn’t out to crush Miguel’s dignity; he wanted to save him. He didn’t even glance at Miguel. “You heard the head coach. His family is here and so are some friends of mine. Let’s win this game.”
Simon and Bobby stuck out their hands, palm down. The team members, including those not starting, crowded around the coaches, trying to join hands. All except Miguel. When Simon turned, the benched player stared at him with hatred in his dark eyes.
The Sharks won in a nail-biting double overtime by a free throw.
At the sound of the buzzer, Maureen surged to her feet, applauding loudly, then she turned to hug Jason. She ignored the tensing of his body and was rewarded when he awkwardly hugged her back.
“What a finish.” Traci hooked her arm through Ryan’s. “You and Simon did a good job.”
Ryan chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, sweetheart, but all the credit goes to Simon and the coach.”
“I’m going down to congratulate them.” Maureen looked at Jason. “You want to go with me and show Simon what you drew?”
&nb
sp; Panic raced across Jason’s young face. He clutched the sketch pad to him. “It’s nothing.”
“Not from what I saw.” Traci shrugged when the teenager stared at her. “I admit I peeked. You’re good. Just like the flowers you drew for Maureen. You have a way of putting more than just strokes on paper.”
“He does, doesn’t he? That’s why I’m having my drawing framed,” Maureen said.
Jason gaped, swallowed. “I-I thought you were just kidding.”
“My mother isn’t the type to kid. Although I’m not sure how I feel about the competition. Your drawing will really make mine look awful.” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “Some of my friends tease me that she has my drawings and poems from grade school in her office at Forever Yours.”
“And a copy of your medical diploma,” Maureen said proudly. “They show the progression of the man you were destined to be.” Beaming, Maureen faced Jason. “Just like the drawing of the camellias will. I’ll have your earliest rendition. It will be priceless, but I’ll keep it and tell everyone I knew you when.”
Jason swallowed, blinked, and uncurled his arms. He looked at the top sketch of several players racing down the court. “Do you really think he’ll like them?”
“He will.” Maureen went down the bleachers to the gym floor. People still crowded around the team and coaches, congratulating them. She waited until Bobby and Simon were free. “Congratulations.”
Bobby, with his arm around a young girl who looked to be in her midteens, introduced Maureen and Jason to his wife and daughter. “We’ve been winning since Maureen started coming. Please don’t stop.”
“I’m working on that.” Simon stepped up beside her, the look in his eyes saying he wished they were alone.
Maureen moistened her lips, tried to swallow to ease her dry throat so she could speak. “To commemorate tonight, Jason sketched some of the action.”
“Can I see?” asked Bobby’s daughter.
Maureen held her breath as he slowly handed the pad to her. Her family moved to crowd around her, as did some of the other players. She flipped the pages. The compliments weren’t long in coming.
“These are great.”
“Can you do one of me for my chick?”
