Game On! (Seaside Heat)

by Dani Jace

  She wrapped her legs loosely around his hips. “The lengths you’ll go to just to get me to spend the night.”

  He caressed her cheek. “Am I special then?”

  “You have to ask? I forgot about a cruise.” She laughed, her ribs rumbling against his.

  That she had. Dugan had told him that GiGi had never seen her so scattered. He hadn’t planned it, but he wanted to prove he was different. His stomach twisted at the omission he and GiGi kept from her. Only one more home game to keep her from running into her persecutor. How could she be mad if she found out later?

  What he’d do after the Tritons’ season continued to complicate his life. Should he stay here, give up football and hope to change her mind about a relationship? Or return to Texas if called or find another team if not? The throbbing in his head increased with his anxiety. Gazing into her eyes, he searched for his answer. “Having a woman forget her vacation has gotta be a first for me, darlin’. But then I’ve never had a woman give up an evening to worry over me in a hospital, either.”

  Her tawny brows furrowed. “One of my brothers’ college teammates was paralyzed after a brutal hit.” She swallowed hard. “I got into a habit of praying every day when I knew he was practicing and during the games.”

  Jordan had many layers, and he wanted to uncover more. “Thank you then.”

  She nodded with a bashful smile. “Now, make love to me.”

  His heart nearly burst and he slid inside her welcoming body.

  She whimpered. So out of character for her. Jordan’s eyes dilated to deep mocha and turned glassy.

  Heath’s throat grew tight as he took her in an easy rhythm.

  She held on. “We only have a couple more weeks before your season is over. Maybe I should start staying over.”

  Who knew a blow to his head would soften her resistance? “Careful, you don’t want me to think you might care.”

  Rocking her hips, she met his deepening thrusts. “I care a lot.”

  He paused mid-stroke and stared deeply into her eyes. “Enough to say this is more than a game?”

  “I love what we have.” She held his face. “Is that enough?”

  “For now.”

  Then she breathed his name in a pleading tone. “Heath.”

  “Yes, darlin’.” He closed his eyes and came along with her.

  * * * *

  Heath stood along the sidelines during practice, hoping he’d have an opportunity to play at home for their final game of the season. This week’s away game was shot.

  His nausea had subsided by the second day. Although his appetite had returned, Jordan had decided he still needed her tending. It’d taken so long for her to spend the night, he wasn’t about to argue.

  While she coached an afternoon field hockey practice, he’d filed an application online with the local public school division for a physical education substitute. One of the local trainers had mentioned a need, and he qualified with his degree. A temporary position might give him a chance to see what might be left for Jordan and him after the Tritons’ season.

  He hadn’t received a call from Texas about a spot on the practice squad. The team’s roster was overflowing with potential for the coming season and part of the reason Dugan and he had sought a place on the Tritons. As aging athletes, their time was limited.

  The concussion pushed him to the inevitable career fork in the road sooner than he liked. But putting down roots appealed to him after his football vagabond lifestyle. Getting to know Jordan only solidified the urge.

  He gave his replacement some pointers for the upcoming game then started to leave the field when Dugan caught up with him. “Hey, GiGi is asking if you will help her out with her fashion show in October. She’d provide the tux and all.”

  “What about you? Have you heard anything?”

  “Yeah, I need to talk to you about that.”

  Was this where his brother from another mother and he parted? “You got a call from Texas?”

  “No, but GiGi has a friend in a large corporation who’s offered me a trial position at his company in Mechatronics. I did an internship during the summer I messed up my knee. Honestly, Heath, this year has been wearing on my bones. We’re not new kids on the block anymore.”

  Heath chuckled. “And I’m not looking forward to losing more brain cells. Now that we’re sharing, I applied for a substitute physical education position with the local school division. Don’t know if it’ll happen, but it could tide me over.”

  “So you’ll help GiGi then?” He stepped back as a tackle took down another player with a grunt.

  “Sure, I owe her.” He helped the guy to his feet.

  “Yeah, I heard. One more game.” His friend cut him a sly glance.

  He frowned. “She told you?” Heath started for the locker room.

  “Pillow talk. You know how it is.” He shrugged.

  “I didn’t get the impression there were any pillows in y’all’s repertoire.”

  Dugan snorted. “Got rug rash to prove it, bro.”

  Chapter 15

  The afternoon of the Tritons’ last game, Jordan waited at Heath’s place. For some reason, GiGi insisted on picking her up. Sneaky little shit, she was probably helping Heath with something.

  He’d promised her a special dinner after the game. Could he be planning to tell her he’d be staying? After living at his place, the last couple of weeks, she admitted she might want more than just sex from him. The damn “L” word sat on her tongue waiting for a confession.

  Jordan paced until the Miata roared into the driveway. “Where in the hell were you, G? We’re going to miss kickoff.”

  GiGi looked at her as if she had a cob up her butt. “Chill, baby.”

  “You can say that. Your guy’s staying for a few more weeks.”

  She smirked. “You’re uptight for a PE teacher.”

  “Yeah, let’s see how tight your butt is a week before your fashion show.”

  “Get in.” GiGi backed out and punched the gas.

  After arriving, they rushed to their seats. The team burst through the inflated King Neptune wearing their red, white and blue.

  Jordan clapped until her palms burned. It was crazy of her to get so attached. She never meant for this to happen. As they called his name, tears welled in her eyes.

  During the first play, Heath shoved a tackle sideways, allowing the running back to gain a first down. Jordan held her breath until her man rose to his feet.

  She had to quit babying him. He’d allowed it at home, she suspected only because he wanted her to stay. He wanted her beyond their game and all but said so the morning after his injury. It was the first time she’d ever felt like a man was making love to her. More than sex and damned if it hadn’t begun to heal her scarred heart.

  As the game continued, Jordan’s tension eased, but her heart ached over what might be her last hours with him.

  At fourth down and three yards to goal, the opposing team’s offense took over at their thirty-yard line. Their quarterback called a play and faked a hand-off before firing a pass to a downfield receiver.

  Dugan read the play. Leaping nearly five feet vertical, he tipped the ball. It bobbled. He secured the pigskin and barreled through the scrambling offense.

  Jordan and GiGi launched to their feet.

  His teammates blocked the offense and defended his advance. Covering ground at a diagonal he plowed across the goal line.

  GiGi howled to the point of losing her voice.

  Jordan gripped her shoulder to keep her from falling into the row of spectators in front of them.

  Cheers drowned out the announcer, but referees signaled Dugan’s touchdown.

  On the next offensive plays, Heath snagged a couple of passes, putting them in the red zone to score. With thirty seconds left on the clock, the punter shot the ball straight through the uprights, winning the game.

  “Let’s go to find the guys.” She tugged G
iGi toward the steps.

  “What’s the hurry, I need to hit the ladies room first.”

  “Jesus, your guy just scored his first TD, hold your pee.” What was her problem?

  Jordan rushed to the interior of the Sportsplex.

  GiGi tried to keep up. “Stop, Jordan, I need to tell you—wait up.”

  Intent on catching Heath, Jordan had already turned into a hallway leading to a back entrance of the locker room.

  An older woman appeared as Jordan approach the door. Her pale pink suit reminded her of a Jackie O. outfit from the sixties. One of the coaches’ wives? They usually hung out in the luxury suite upstairs, not here waiting for the team. She barely glanced at Jordan.

  Jesus! Richard’s wife. What in the hell was she doing here?

  Adrenaline sent Jordan in to flight mode. She tried to escape, but Branscome crossed in front of her before she could flee.

  “Ms. Walker.”

  Jordan met her piercing, hazel glare. “Mrs. Branscome.” Panic nearly swamped her.

  “I wanted to call you after the hearing, but my lawyer would have me drawn and quartered.”

  Polite viper. Jordan’s mouth dried to cotton. “To gloat?”

  “Honey, it was business. Did you really think it was personal?”

  She cringed at the catty laugh. “And why wouldn’t I have? The only thing you didn’t resort to was video.”

  “If I’d meant to ruin you, my dear, I would have. And I still have a video in my safe deposit box.”

  Blood left Jordan’s face. Stars filled her vision. Where in the hell had she recorded her and Richard? She wished the floor would swallow her whole and save her from this nightmare.

  “Don’t worry, only I have the password to open it.”

  She was so fucked. “Why?”

  “He’s finally out of my hair and my corporation. See, what you didn’t understand, hon, is you were my salvation. He’d actually asked for a divorce! Not that I cared.” She motioned nonchalantly. “You were just one of many. But I needed his shares of Bodies first so I could buy a half share of this team.”

  Revelation dawned. She’d used Jordan as a pawn against her husband. Jordan’s knees buckled. Strong arms caught her, shoring her from behind. The swimming in her head subsided.

  “Nice game, Lancaster.” Branscome regarded Jordan. “I’ll be sending you that item I mentioned.” She pivoted and marched down the hall.

  Jordan’s mind played catch up until a squeak of Branscome’s high heels made her flinch.

  The woman stopped at the door to the main lobby and gazed over her pink-clad shoulder. “Oh, and Jordan, what you have now”—she cast a demonic smile at Heath—“will serve you much better. Sorry you had to be the one. I realize now you really didn’t know Richard was married and a dick. No pun intended.” She stalked through the doorway.

  Bile shot up the back of Jordan’s throat. She broke from Heath’s embrace and faced him with a death stare. “Did you know she owned the team?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I found out when you were on your cruise.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” She backed away willing away her damnable tears. “Why?”

  He followed. “I’m sorry, Jordan. I thought you’d never see her. She’s a silent owner.”

  Jordan stopped and fisted her hands wanting to punch his face. “She and Richard nearly ruined my life. I don’t want to be within a hundred miles of either of them.”

  He crossed his arms. “Or anyone associated with them. Meaning me.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her to use you to fuck me over one more time.” She braced a hand against the wall. Goddamn him.

  He went wide-eyed then frowned. “You think I’m capable of that, Jordan?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She glared. “Game over.”

  She raced away without looking back.

  Chapter 16

  Heath stood in the empty hallway. Numb. He’d just lost the most important game in his life. As much as he loved playing football, the NFL had been a fleeting dream. Jordan was real. Now he had neither.

  He texted GiGi, warning her of the storm heading her way. Then he messaged Jordan, apologizing again.

  No reply.

  He should have just told her. She might not have come to his games, but maybe she wouldn’t have written him out of her life altogether.

  “What’s with you?” Dugan tapped him in the ribs.

  “Later.” He didn’t want to talk. Hoping to avoid the media and any lingering fans, Heath took his time changing.

  In the parking lot, Dugan waited at his Jeep.

  “She ran into Branscome?”

  He nodded.

  “Give her a couple of days. She’ll realize it has nothing to do with you two.”

  “Doubt it.” He slid into his vehicle. He was off her roster. Forever.

  * * * *

  Jordan cried all the way to the car. Damn it, why had she ridden with GiGi? She wanted to be alone.

  GiGi waited at the car. Her face said everything. She’d known. “I’m sorry, Jordan. It’s my fault.”

  “Take me home.”

  She slid behind the wheel. “I didn’t think you’d run into her. Heath was worried you’d dump him.

  “He was right. I don’t believe you encouraged him to keep it a secret,” Jordan sank into the passenger seat. Could she trust no one?

  GiGi started the engine and raced the Miata through the parking lot then double-clutched the car, pulling onto the highway.

  Jordan’s head snapped back into the seat. Why was she so pissed? It wasn’t her guy who’d betrayed her.

  “You’re acting like a prepubescent teen, Jordan.” The dash lights emphasized GiGi’s lips drawing to a tight line. She remained focused on the road.

  Speared in the heart for the second time in an hour, Jordan fought the hot tears wetting her cheeks. “You’re my friend. Why are you taking his side?”

  “What would you have done if he’d told you?” Her knuckles lost color gripping the wheel.

  “Quit seeing him. As it is, I wonder if Cruella De Vil didn’t plant him here to meet me.”

  GiGi slapped the wheel. “You sound like a drama queen on a reality show. She used you to get the corporation from Richard. It was just coincidence she’s partial owner in the team Heath and Dugan play on. Make that played on. Dammit, Jordan, you’re not that fucking important to the bitch.”

  “Tell you what. Find some other bitch for your fashion show. I’m done with you both!”

  The Miata banked a hard right into her neighborhood. Before the wheels stopped at her driveway, she climbed out and slammed the door.

  “That’s right, Jordan, push everyone who cares about you out of your life! You’re good at that. You’re heading down the same friendless road as your mother.”

  Tires screeched on the pavement as her only true friend left her in the dust.

  * * * *

  He’d almost called the realty company and given notice on the beach house when he’d received a call to substitute. Heath never imagined himself back in middle school. Students jogged around the track as he checked his watch. He blew his whistle to end the last period of physical education class at Blackwater Middle School.

  Kids filed into the gym and headed for the locker rooms. After the end of the day buzzer and the students had left, he checked the boy’s locker room. He gathered a couple of discarded towels and tossed them in the bin outside the door.

  The female PE teacher, Brook, exited the girl’s area. “I’ll wash them and put them in the dryer before I leave. You did them last night.”

  “You sure?”

  Petite and very pregnant, she’d taken him under her wing the first couple of days. “Yep. There’s only a few.”

  “Thanks, for showing me the ropes. See you next week. I hope.”

  “You’ll be here, but don’t know about me.” She patted her belly and laughed.
>
  Heath stepped into the PE office to get his backpack.

  “Lancaster.” The principal stood by one of the desks.

  Shit, was he being canned already? He’d hoped to keep the position until he could consider his career alternatives. “Mr. Walston.”

  The pale, graying man exhibited the slight paunch and slack muscle tone of an inside worker. “The teacher you’re subbing for also coached the football team. One of the assistant coaches at the high school has been helping with practices. Now that you’re here, I wondered if you’d be interested in the job. There’s a stipend, of course.”

  Heath considered the offer for barely a moment and extended his hand. “Yes, sir, but I’ve never coached before.”

  “You’ve played ball for years and kept these kids in check your first week.” He smiled. “It won’t take long for the rumor mill to spread about your stellar performance in the local pro division this past summer.”

  Fame didn’t appeal to Heath, however, it might earn him some respect as a coach. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow. Their first game is a week from Wednesday.” He reached in the pocket of his suit pants and handed him a key. “To get in the gym after hours.”

  After the principal left, Heath checked his phone. He’d called Jordan a couple of times over the last two weeks, leaving an apology on her voicemail. He’d scored zip. Deep down, he found it hard to bear she’d cut all communication.

  He said goodnight to the other PE teachers and headed home. He could really use some coaching advice from Jordan right now, but hell, if she’d cast her best friend, GiGi aside, what shot did he have?

  * * * *

  “Rerun the play,” Jordan shouted from the sidelines. The September sun baked her and her team with Indian summer heat.

  Coaching field hockey and school had kept her busy. Heath remained in her head, and no amount of distraction or alcohol kept her from dreaming about him every night. He’d called a couple of times since she’d left him standing in the hallway of the Tritons’ sports complex. What did it matter? As soon as he got a call from Texas or another team and he’d leave anyway.