Before We Kiss

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Before We Kiss Page 12

by Susan Mallery


  She went over everything else on the schedule and explained what was done and what still had to be completed. With panic setting in, she wasn’t sleeping well, and that meant plenty of time to clean up her lists.

  Sam was quiet until she’d finished. “You’re good,” he said. “Thank you for all of this. The party is going to be a success and you’re the reason. I should have come to you sooner.”

  “Yes, you should have but you were afraid. To be honest, I get why. That night was weird.”

  One of his dark eyebrows rose. “Weird?”

  She smiled. “After. The dresses, the dry-erase board. A little strange. You were scared and it’s okay. I would have been freaked out, too. Now it would be different. You know me so you’d ask a few questions.” She held up her hand. “I’m not implying anything.” Or hinting. Or even wishing—although if she put some thought into it, wishing would be easy.

  “I get what you’re saying. We are the victims of bad timing. My mother would say there was a message in that.”

  Dellina tried not to smile. “The sexual demonstrations everyone keeps warning me about aren’t enough? She gets messages from the great beyond?”

  Sam grinned. “Not exactly but she’s a big believer in paying attention to the little things. I don’t suppose she’s canceled.”

  “Sorry, no. She’s confirmed.”

  “With me, too. I had a call from my dad last night.”

  She leaned toward him. “They’re your parents. Taryn and Larissa have tried to scare me by telling stories, but seriously, they’re, what, in their sixties? How bad can it be?”

  “You’ll meet them soon enough. You can decide for yourself.” He relaxed. “I appreciate your attitude in all this. You could have constantly reminded me the scramble for the party was my fault.”

  “Not my style.”

  “I like your style.” He studied her for a second. “Why isn’t there a Mr. Dellina?”

  She laughed. “I’m not sure I’d be okay with a guy who wanted to call himself that. And I don’t know if I want the whole serious boyfriend thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just...I don’t know. I raised my sisters so I have a sense of been there, done that. I’m not sure I want a family.”

  He continued to watch her.

  She shifted some more in her seat, not sure how they’d ended up talking about her instead of the party or even him.

  “I do realize not every dating relationship results in a permanent arrangement or children,” she continued. “There was a guy a few years ago. I thought he was great and we were happy, but then he cheated. I broke things off as soon as I found out.”

  “And?”

  How had he guessed there was more to the story? “She got pregnant and they got married. About a year later he showed up, wanting to know if I was interested in seeing him again.”

  “He’d gotten a divorce?”

  “No,” she said quietly. “He hadn’t. Which makes him a jerk, but what really bothered me was that he thought I was the kind of person who would be interested in that kind of relationship. I didn’t like what it said about my character.”

  Sam grimaced. “It doesn’t say anything, Dellina. You’re right—the guy’s a jerk and he was only thinking of himself. He’d screwed up, he missed you and he was hoping you were as lousy as he was. You told him no.”

  “Are you asking or telling?”

  “I’m telling. I know you and you’d never do that.”

  “You’re right. I felt disgusted just talking to him. They moved away a couple of years ago. Since then, I’ve been busy growing my business. Plus this is a small town. It can be challenging to have a private life. I know from experience it’s hard to see the ex on a daily basis.”

  “At least I didn’t have that,” he said. “You know I’m divorced.”

  She hesitated. “Taryn gave me Simone’s book. I probably shouldn’t have read it but...”

  A muscle tightened by his jaw but otherwise he didn’t react. “It’s like a train wreck,” he told her. “Impossible to ignore. Then you know about our relationship.”

  “I know what she said about your marriage. I suspect much of it isn’t exactly true. At best, there are a lot of ways to put a spin on some things.”

  Simone had discussed everything from her courtship with Sam to how he performed in bed. She’d detailed his frustration when he’d missed a kick, how everything was always about the team. Dellina suspected she’d wanted her ex to come off as a self-absorbed, spoiled athlete.

  “For what it’s worth,” she added, “you come off really well in the book.”

  “I’ve read it and you’re exaggerating.”

  “I’m not. She makes it clear you care about doing the best you can in your work and your relationships. You have concerns about privacy, but why wouldn’t you? From what you’ve told me, your family wasn’t good with boundaries and there’s the whole being a sports legend.”

  He gave her a smile. “Now you’re mocking me. I was good. I wasn’t a legend.”

  “So modest. It’s refreshing.”

  “Not modest. Realistic.” The smile faded. “I tried to keep Simone from publishing the book, but I couldn’t get an injunction. Because I was a national figure, I was considered fair game. The only good news is the judge took her advance and royalties into consideration during the settlement hearings. Simone has to send me fifty percent of every check she gets.”

  “Does that help?”

  He shrugged. “I send it to charity. I don’t want her money. I want her not to have published the book. But if she hadn’t been that kind of woman, things might have gone better between us.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “Hell, no. She was a mistake. I was young and she knew what buttons to push.”

  “You have buttons?” She picked up a pen and held it over a sheet of paper. “What might they be?”

  “Sorry, no. You’re going to have to figure that out on your own. Besides, it was a long time ago.” Now it was his turn to hesitate before speaking. “I told you I was sick as a kid.”

  She nodded.

  “I was also small for my age. Basically invisible. I started kicking in tenth grade and I was good, but no girl wants to date some guy three inches shorter than her.”

  She tried to reconcile that image with the tall, sexy, muscular man sitting across from her and couldn’t.

  “There must have been a transformation at some point,” she said.

  “The summer before my senior year. I grew about six inches. During my senior year I added a couple more and then I started to fill out. Add that to a stellar college football career and it all changed. At least for other people. But I was still the same guy. So when Simone came along, I was ripe for the taking.”

  “I can’t imagine you vulnerable.”

  “Everyone is,” he told her. “It’s just a matter of finding out how.”

  She supposed that was true. Now Sam was a successful, worldly businessman, but in college, everything would have been different. He’d gone from the cliché of a ninety-pound weakling to a football god in a matter of a couple of years.

  “I hope you don’t hold yourself responsible for what happened between you two,” she said.

  “Most days I don’t.” He rose. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

  She grinned. “That’s subtle. You can just say you don’t want to talk about yourself anymore.”

  “I don’t want to talk about myself anymore.”

  “Then we won’t.”

  She collected her folders and followed him to the front of the building. Once there, he lightly touched her arm.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” he told her. “I’m keeping my schedule open from Wednesday on. I can run err
ands, stuff bags, check on the liquor delivery. Just say the word.”

  “I might take you up on that.”

  “I hope you do.”

  She smiled and walked out. On her way back to her place she thought about how nice Sam was and how Simone had obviously been an idiot. Why choose a single book over a guy like Sam? If she were looking for something permanent—

  Not that she was, she reminded herself. But for once, her “been there, done that” argument didn’t spring to mind. She admitted, if only to herself and if only for that one time, that there were other reasons she didn’t want to get involved. That they mostly had to do with how devastated she’d been at the unexpected loss of her parents. That between their deaths and her life experiences so far, she’d learned caring came at a price. One she mostly wasn’t willing to pay.

  * * *

  SAM TAPPED THE screen on the treadmill. He was already jogging and the increase in speed pushed him to a run. Not the smartest thing for his knees, but he would worry about pain and swelling later. Right now he needed to clear his head.

  Sweat poured off him. A baseball game played on the big TV on the wall opposite the cardio equipment. He hadn’t bothered with the sound. Because paying attention to who was playing and the score was impossible. Right now, all he could think about was Dellina and how much he wanted her.

  He didn’t know what it was about her that got to him. She was pretty, but he knew women who were incredibly attractive who didn’t interest him in the least. It wasn’t her sense of humor, although he liked it. Or how smart she was. Again, he knew lots of intelligent women. So what was it? Why her?

  Maybe it was the combination—that indefinable essence. Like in kicking. You could know everything and have talent, but if you didn’t have that gut instinct that told you exactly how to kick the ball, then you weren’t going to be great. And Dellina was great.

  She’d been right to call him on his shit. Kissing her like that, then saying it couldn’t go further because they were working together was wrong. He was better than that and she deserved a whole lot more. It was just that when he was around her, he wanted her. Up against a wall, in a bed, the beach, the mountains—he didn’t think it would much matter. As long as they were naked and she was climaxing five seconds before he lost it.

  The combination of the image and his running made it impossible to breathe. He gave in to the inevitable and slowed the treadmill back to a jog. After picking up the towel, he wiped the sweat from his face.

  Kenny walked into the cardio room and raised his eyebrows. “We played basketball this morning.”

  “So?”

  “Why are you running?” His friend grinned. “Afraid you’re getting fat?”

  Sam threw the towel at him and turned off the treadmill. His friend ducked and let the towel sail over his head.

  “You’re not that old,” Kenny said cheerfully. “You’ve got another couple years until it all goes to hell.”

  “Thanks for the support.”

  “Anytime.” Kenny studied him. “What’s up?”

  Sam had met both Jack and Kenny in college. Together they’d become an undefeatable triad. Jack could throw farther and faster than any other quarterback in their division and Kenny had both speed and magic hands. When that wasn’t enough, Sam got them out of trouble with a perfect three-point field goal.

  Over a million kids played high school football. Statistically one in about seventeen would make it to college ball. And from that pool, about one in fifty was drafted. The odds of making it, let alone making it big, were infinitesimal. But he and his friends had.

  After college they’d all been drafted. Jack had gone in the first round and Kenny in the second, to different teams. Nobody wasted an early round pick on a kicker—not since 2000 and look how that had ended. He’d gone in the fourth round for more money than he’d ever hoped.

  Four years later, they’d all ended back up together, playing for the L.A. Stallions. They’d won the Super Bowl and been on top of the world. Then Kenny had taken that hit and had to sit out nearly half a season, and Sam had decided it was time to reevaluate. The two of them were ready to retire. Jack had still been on top, but he’d joined them in leaving and had brought them to Score.

  Now Sam looked at his friend and wondered what regrets Kenny carried. He could guess at a lot of them but doubted any of them were about his career.

  “What has your panties in a bunch?” Kenny asked. “You only run when you have something on your mind.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Kenny grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He held open the door. “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer.”

  Sam followed Kenny upstairs. They walked down the long hallway and through double doors into a room about half the size of an airplane hangar. There were a half dozen or so black leather sofas, a giant television, a big bar and beer on tap. It was a place to relax, to hang out. To escape. Because even now, there were times when the world closed in. When fame was too much and the guys needed to unwind, they came here. No one bothered them.

  They’d had a room like this back in L.A. They’d tried to ban Taryn, but she’d retaliated by having their cable cut off, in the middle of a play-off game. They’d never messed with her again.

  Kenny walked behind the bar and poured them each a beer. Sam pulled a large towel from a stack on a shelf and tossed it across the sofa, then sat down. Kenny took a seat opposite and leaned back against the leather.

  “Folks?” he asked.

  Sam shook his head.

  “Then it’s a woman.”

  Sam grimaced. “I know better.”

  “We all do. Except Jack, who is careful to never get involved.”

  Sam drank his beer. Kenny was right. Jack was good at making it look as if he cared without getting emotionally engaged. His brief marriage to Taryn had been because of her pregnancy, not emotions. Before and after her, there had been a string of beauties who weren’t interested in much more than saying they’d slept with Jack McGarry. While Jack was involved with several charities, it was always from a distance. If something personal was needed, he sent Larissa.

  Sam turned to Kenny. “You still think about what happened?”

  “Every day,” his friend said flatly. “Every damned day.”

  “Sorry.”

  Kenny shrugged. “It happened. I was an idiot. The signs were all there, but I didn’t want to see them.”

  Which made his situation sound less horrific than it was.

  “You talk to her at all?” Sam asked.

  Kenny shook his head. “Never.”

  Sam knew better than to ask if his friend ever spoke to the child he’d thought of as his own. The answer would be no. And that was the hell of it.

  “You sleeping with Dellina?” Kenny asked.

  Sam nearly spit his beer. “No.”

  “Why not? She’s pretty. Sexy. She likes you.”

  Sam forced himself to sit quietly when what he really wanted to do was jump up and demand, “How do you know? Did she say anything? What have you heard?”

  Which was what Kenny wanted. Sam stretched out his legs in front of him and did his best to look casual. “How much are you prepared to lose when we play golf this weekend?”

  “I’m kicking your ass,” Kenny told him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the change in topic.”

  Sam smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  * * *

  “I HATE YOU,” Dellina said forcefully. “I don’t use that word lightly, just so you know. And I mean it. I really, really hate you.”

  Her cursor blinked as if unaffected by her declaration, which was so not a surprise. Stupid computer, she thought glumly. And stupid, stupid program. Why wasn’t it working?

  She
glanced down at the printout in her hand, then back at the screen and sighed heavily. The job with Score was a big one. She was billing lots of hours and invoicing them for everything she bought. Sam paid her promptly. So why wasn’t she coming out ahead financially?

  A party like this one should have provided her with lots of extra income. But when she ran her statements, she wasn’t much further ahead than she’d been two months ago. She would cover costs and walk away with a little extra, but nothing like she’d thought. And nowhere near the amount she’d been hoping for.

  She tossed the papers back on the desk and turned from the screen. She would figure this all out after the party, she promised herself. When she didn’t have fifty million things going on. Then she could find out why, after working so hard, she was steadily losing money and facing the real possibility of having to shut her doors.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IN LOS ANGELES, Sam had lived in a condo. The building had been secure with plenty of staff to keep the world at bay. In Fool’s Gold that hadn’t been an option, so he’d bought a house. The place was bigger than he needed, but it was on the golf course, which he enjoyed, with large rooms and high ceilings. He’d liked all the extra space. The downside of having more rooms was having more bedrooms. And the downside of that was he had no reason to tell his parents they couldn’t stay with him when they came to town. Which was why he was pacing back and forth in his foyer, all the while wondering how long it would take him to drive to Mexico.

  He heard a car pull up and opened the front door. Fortunately it was only Jack and Taryn. Kenny pulled up behind them. He noticed how they now blocked the driveway, which would make it harder to escape. Harder, he thought, but not impossible.

  It was late afternoon and they’d all come from the office. Taryn wore one of her usual tight dresses that probably cost more than he’d spent on his favorite suit. But she looked good, he thought. Happy. Her relationship with Angel was good for her and—

  He swore under his breath. Dear God, it was already happening. Just the knowledge that his parents were only a few miles away was changing him into a woman! He had to get out of here now.

 

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