This Heart Of Mine

by Susan Elizabeth Philips

  He dropped her arm and pointed toward the bathroom. “I’m trying to say that it’s been in there forever, and the son of a bitch broke!”

  Exactly three seconds ticked by. Then her knees gave out. She sagged into the chair across from the bed.

  “Well?” he barked.

  Her fuzzy brain started working again. “Don’t worry about it.” Too late she grew conscious of the dampness between her thighs. “It’s the wrong time of the month.”

  “There isn’t any wrong time of the month.” He flipped on the floor lamp, exposing more than she wanted him to see of her very ordinary, very naked body.

  “There is for me. I’m as regular as a clock.” She didn’t want to talk to him about her period. She clutched her nightgown and tried to figure out how to get it back on without showing more of herself than she already had.

  He didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in either her nudity or his. “What the hell were you doing poking around in my shaving kit?”

  “It, uh, was open, and I just happened to look in, and…” She cleared her throat. “If it was so old, why were you still carrying it around?”

  “I forgot about it!”

  “That’s a stupid reason.”

  Those Astroturf-green eyes were murderous. “Are you trying to blame this on me?”

  She drew a deep breath. “No. No, I’m not.” It was time to stop acting like a coward and face the music. She stood up and pulled the nightgown over her head. “I’m sorry, Kevin. Really. I’ve been acting crazy lately.”

  “You’re not telling me a damn thing.”

  “I apologize. I’m embarrassed.” Her voice quivered. “Actually, I’m beyond embarrassment. I’m completely humiliated. I—I hope you can forget about this.”

  “Not likely.” He grabbed a pair of dark green boxers from the floor and shoved his legs in.

  “I’m sorry.” She deserved to grovel, but since that didn’t appear to be working, she reverted to being the world-weary, spoiled heiress. “The truth is, I was lonesome and you were available. You have a—reputation as a playboy. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “I was available?” The air crackled. “Let’s think about this. Let’s think about what this would be called if the situation was reversed?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What would this situation be called, for example, if I’d decided to crawl in bed with you—a nonconsenting female!”

  “It’s—” Her fingers fidgeted with the skirt of her nightgown. “Uh, yes, I see what you mean.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his voice grew low and dangerous. “It would be called rape.”

  “You’re not seriously trying to say that I—I raped you?”

  He regarded her coldly. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  This was far worse than she’d imagined. “That’s ridiculous. You—you weren’t nonconsenting!”

  “Only because I was asleep and I thought you were someone else.”

  That stung. “I see.”

  He didn’t back off. If anything, his jaw hardened. “Contrary to what you seem to think, I like having a relationship before I have sex. And I don’t let anybody use me.”

  Which was exactly what she’d done. She wanted to cry. “I’m sorry, Kevin. Both of us know my behavior was outrageous. Could we forget about this?”

  “I don’t have much choice.” He bit off his words. “It’s not something I want to read about in the papers.”

  She backed toward the door. “I hope you realize I’ll never say anything.”

  He regarded her with disgust.

  Her face crumpled. “I’m sorry. Really.”

  Chapter 4

  Daphne jumped off her skateboard and crouched down in the long weeds so she could peer into the nest.

  Daphne Finds a Baby Rabbit

  (preliminary notes)

  Kevin dropped back into the pocket. Sixty-five thousand screaming fans were on their feet, but a perfect stillness cocooned him. He didn’t think about the fans, the TV cameras, about the Monday Night Football crew in the booth. He didn’t think about anything except what he’d been born to do—play the game that had been invented just for him.

  Leon Tippett, his favorite receiver, ran the pattern perfectly and broke free, ready for that sweet moment when Kevin would drill the ball into his hands.

  Then, in an instant, the play turned to crap. Their safety came out of nowhere, ready to pick off the pass.

  Adrenaline flooded Kevin’s body. He was deep behind the line of scrimmage, and he needed another receiver, but Jamal was down, and Stubs had double coverage.

  Briggs and Washington broke through the Stars’ line and bore down. Those same fire-breathing monsters, disguised as Tampa Bay defensive ends, had dislocated his shoulder last year, but Kevin wasn’t about to throw the ball away. With the recklessness that had been causing him so much trouble lately, he looked to the left… and then made a sharp, blind, insane cut to the right. He needed a hole in that wall of white jerseys. He willed it to be there. And found it.

  With the agility that had become his trademark, he slipped through, leaving Briggs and Washington grabbing air. He spun and shook off a defender who outweighed him by eighty pounds.

  Another cut. A jitterbug. Then he put on the steam.

  Off the field he was a big man, six feet two and 193 pounds of muscle, but here in the Land of Mutant Giants he was small, graceful, and very fast. His feet conquered the artificial turf. The lights in the dome turned his gold helmet into a meteor, his aqua jersey into a banner woven from the heavens. Human poetry. God-kissed. Blessed among men. He carried the ball across the goal line into the end zone.

  And when the official signaled the touchdown, Kevin was still standing.

  The postgame party was at Kinney’s house, and from the moment Kevin walked in the door, women started to grab him.

  “Fabulous game, Kevin.”

  “Kevin, querido, over here!”

  “You were awesome! I’m hoarse from screaming!”

  “Were you excited when you took it in? God, I know you were excited, but how did it really feel?”

  “¡Felicitación!”

  “Kevin, chéri!”

  Charm came easily to Kevin, and he flashed his smile while he untangled himself from all but two of the most persistent.

  “You like your women beautiful and silent,” his best friend’s wife had said the last time they’d talked. “But most women aren’t silent, so you home in on foreign babes with limited English. A classic case of intimacy avoidance.”

  Kevin remembered giving her a lazy once-over. “Is that so? Well, listen up, Dr. Jane Darlington Bonner. I’ll be intimate with you anytime you want.”

  “Over my dead body,” her husband, Cal, had responded from across the dinner table.

  Even though Cal was his best friend, Kevin enjoyed giving him a hard time. It had been that way since the days he’d been the old man’s resentful backup. Now, however, Cal was retired from football and beginning his residency in internal medicine at a hospital in North Carolina.

  Kevin couldn’t resist needling him. “It’s a matter of principle, old man. I need to prove a point.”

  “Yeah, well, prove it with your own woman, and leave mine alone.”

  Jane had laughed, kissed her husband, given their daughter, Rosie, a napkin, and picked up their new son, Tyler. Kevin smiled as he remembered Cal’s response when he’d asked about the Post-it notes he kept seeing on Ty’s diapers.

  “It’s because I won’t let her write on his legs anymore.”

  “Still at it, is she?”

  “Arms, legs—the poor kid was turning into a walking scientific notebook. But it’s gotten better since I started tucking Post-its in all her pockets.”

  Jane’s habit of absentmindedly jotting down complex equations on unorthodox surfaces was well known, and Rosie Bonner piped up.

  “Once she wrote on my foot. Didn’t you, Mommy? And another ti
me—”

  Dr. Jane pushed a drumstick into her daughter’s mouth.

  Kevin smiled at the memory, only to be interrupted as the beautiful Frenchwoman on his right shouted over the music. “Tu es fatigué, chéri?”

  Kevin had a facility with languages, but he’d learned to keep it hidden. “Thanks, but I don’t want anything to eat right now. Hey, let me introduce you to Stubs Brady. I think you two might have a lot in common. And—Heather, is it?—my buddy Leon has been watching you with lascivious intent all evening.”

  “What kind of tent?”

  Definitely time to shed a few females.

  He’d never admit to Jane that she was right about his preference in women. But unlike some of his teammates, who paid lip service to the notion of giving all they had to the game, Kevin really did. Not only his body and mind but his heart as well, and you couldn’t do that with a high-maintenance female in your life. Beautiful and undemanding, that’s what he wanted, and foreign women fit the bill.

  Playing for the Stars was everything that mattered to him, and he wouldn’t let anybody get in the way of that. He loved wearing the aqua and gold uniform, taking the field in the Midwest Sports Dome, and most of all, working for Phoebe and Dan Calebow. Maybe it was the result of a childhood spent as a preacher’s kid, but there was honor in being a Chicago Star, something that couldn’t be said for every NFL team.

  When you played for the Calebows, respect for the game was more important than the bottom line. The Stars weren’t the team for thugs or prima donnas, and during the course of his career Kevin had seen some brilliant talent traded because those players hadn’t measured up to Phoebe and Dan’s standards of character. Kevin couldn’t imagine playing for anyone else, and when he no longer got the job done for the Stars on the field, then he’d retire to coaching.

  Coaching the Stars.

  But two things had happened this season to jeopardize his dreams. One was his own fault—the crazy recklessness that had hit him right after training camp. He’d always had a reckless streak but, until now, he’d restricted it to off-season. The other was Daphne Somerville’s midnight visit to his bedroom. That had done more to jeopardize his career than all the skydiving and dirt-bike racing in the world.

  He was a sound sleeper, and it hadn’t been the first time he’d awakened in the middle of making love, but up until then he’d always chosen his partners. Ironically, if it hadn’t been for her family connections, he might have thought about choosing her. Maybe it was the appeal of forbidden fruit, but he’d had a great time with her. She’d kept him on his toes and made him laugh. Although he’d been careful not to let her see it, he’d found himself watching her. She moved with a rich girl’s confidence he’d found sexy. Her body might not be flashy, but everything was in the right place, and he’d definitely noticed.

  Even so, he’d kept his distance. She was the boss’s sister, and he never fraternized with women connected with the team—no coaches’ daughters, front-office secretaries, or even teammates’ cousins. Despite that, look what had happened.

  Just thinking about it made him angry all over again. Not even a hotshot quarterback was more important to the Calebows than family, and if they ever found out what had happened, he was the one they’d be coming after for explanations.

  His conscience was going to force him to call her soon. Just once to make certain there hadn’t been any consequences. There wouldn’t be, he told himself, and he wasn’t going to worry about it, especially now, when he couldn’t afford any distractions. On Sunday, they were playing in the AFC Championship, and his game had to be flawless. Then his ultimate dream would come true. He’d be taking the Stars to the Super Bowl.

  But six days later his dream was snatched away. And he had no one to blame but himself.

  By working day and night, Molly finished Daphne Takes a Tumble and put it in the mail the same week the Stars lost the AFC Championship. With fifteen seconds left on the clock, Kevin Tucker had refused to play it safe and thrown into double coverage. His pass was intercepted, and the Stars had lost by a field goal.

  Molly fixed herself a cup of tea to ward off the chill of the January evening and took it over to her worktable. She had an article due for Chik, but instead of turning on her laptop, she picked up the legal pad she’d left on the couch to jot down some ideas she had for a new book, Daphne Finds a Baby Rabbit.

  The telephone rang just as she sat down. “Hello.”

  “Daphne? It’s Kevin Tucker.”

  Tea splashed into the saucer, and the breath went out of her. Once she’d had a crush on this man. Now just the sound of his voice terrified her.

  She forced in air. Since he was still calling her Daphne, he must not have talked to anyone about her. That was good. She didn’t want him talking about her, didn’t even want him to think of her. “How did you get my number?”

  “I made you give it to me.”

  She’d managed to forget. “I, uh… What can I do for you?”

  “With the season over, I’m getting ready to leave town for a while. I wanted to be sure there weren’t any… unfortunate consequences from… what happened.”

  “No! No consequences at all. Of course not.”

  “That’s good.”

  Beneath his chilly response, she heard relief. At the same time she saw a way to make things easier, and she jumped at it. “I’m coming, darling!” she called out to an imaginary person.

  “I take it you’re not alone.”

  “No, I’m not.” Again the raised voice. “I’m on the phone, Benny! I’ll be there in a moment, sweetheart.” She winced. Couldn’t she have thought of a better name?

  Roo trotted in from the kitchen to see what was up. She clutched the receiver tighter. “I appreciate your call, Kevin, but there was no need.”

  “As long as everything’s—”

  “Everything’s wonderful, but I have to go. Sorry about the game. And thanks for calling.” Her hand was still trembling when she disconnected.

  She had just talked with the father of her unborn baby.

  Her palm settled over her flat abdomen. She still hadn’t completely absorbed the fact that she was pregnant. When her period hadn’t arrived on schedule, she’d convinced herself that stress was the cause. But her breasts had grown increasingly tender, she’d begun to feel nauseated, and two days ago, she’d finally bought a home pregnancy test. The result had left her so panic-stricken she’d rushed out and bought another one.

  There was no mistake. She was going to have Kevin Tucker’s baby.

  But her first thoughts hadn’t been of him. They’d been of Dan and Phoebe. Family was the center of their existence, and neither of them would be able to imagine raising a child without the other. This was going to devastate them.

  When she’d finally considered Kevin, she’d known she had to make certain he never found out. He’d been her unwilling victim, and she would bear the consequences alone.

  It wouldn’t be all that difficult to keep him in the dark. With the season over, there was little chance she’d run into him, and she’d simply stay away from Stars headquarters when they started practice in the summer. Except for a few of Dan and Phoebe’s team parties, she’d never socialized much with the players. Eventually Kevin might hear that she’d had a baby, but this morning’s phone call would make him believe there had been another man in her life.

  She gazed through the windows of her loft into the winter sky. Although it wasn’t even six o’clock, it was already dark. She stretched out on the couch.

  Until two days ago she’d never considered single motherhood. She hadn’t thought much about motherhood at all. Now she couldn’t think of anything else. The restlessness that had always seemed like a backbeat to her life had vanished, leaving her with the unfamiliar feeling that everything was exactly as it should be. She’d finally have a family of her own.

  Roo licked the hand she was dangling over the side of the couch. She closed her eyes and wove the daydreams that had take
n over her imagination now that her initial shock had worn off. A little boy? A girl? It didn’t matter. She’d spent enough time with her nieces and nephew to know that she’d be a good mother regardless, and she’d love this baby enough for two parents.

  Her baby. Her family.

  Finally.

  She stretched, content to the tips of her toes. This was what she’d been searching for all these years, a family of her very own. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so peaceful. Even her hair was peaceful, no longer brutally short and back to its natural dark brown color. Just right for her.

  Roo nudged her hand with his wet nose.

  “Hungry, buddy?” She rose and was on her way to the kitchen to feed him when the phone rang again. Her pulse raced, but it was only Phoebe.

  “Dan and I had a meeting in Lake Forest. We’re on the Edens now, and he’s hungry. Want to go to Yoshi’s with us for dinner?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Great. See you in about half an hour.”

  As Molly hung up, the knowledge of how much she was going to hurt them hit hard. They wanted her to have exactly what they did—a deep, unconditional love that formed the foundation of both their lives. But most people weren’t that lucky.

  She slipped into her threadbare Dolce & Gabbana sweater and a skinny, ankle-length charcoal skirt she’d bought last spring for half off at Field’s. Kevin’s phone call had unsettled her, so she flipped on the television. Lately she’d gotten into the habit of watching reruns of Lace, Inc. The show was nostalgic for her, a link to one of the few pleasant parts of her childhood.

  She still wondered about Kevin’s connection to Lilly Sherman. Phoebe might know, but Molly was afraid to mention his name, even though Phoebe had no idea Molly had been with him at the Door County house.

  “Lace is on the case, oh yeah… Lace can solve the case, oh yeah…”

  Commercials followed the credits, and then Lilly Sherman as Ginger Hill bounced across the screen in a pair of tight white shorts, her breasts overflowing a bright green bikini top. Auburn hair billowed around her face, gold hoops brushed her cheekbones, and her seductive smile promised untold sensual delights.