In the Red Zone

by Crista McHugh

  ***

  Kiana stopped short when Frank pointed to the leather-covered, courtside chairs between the benches. “Holy shit, Frank. Those are the Hollywood seats.”

  “I know,” he replied with the nonchalant ease of someone who routinely got the best of everything.

  “But how did you get them?”

  “You’re not the only person who knows people in high places.” He gave her a wink and took her hand. “Now let’s sit down and enjoy the game.”

  Her head swam from the extravagance of it, but Frank had no problem flagging a member of the dance team and asking for a Coke. The request jerked her from her stunned silence. “She’s a cheerleader, not a waitress.”

  “One of the perks of these seats is that you get a member of the dance team to bring you whatever you want.” He shrugged. “I figured a soda was safer than a beer. Do you want anything?”

  When the dancer returned, she gave Frank a smile that said she would be more than happy to bring him whatever he wanted.

  A wave of jealousy rose within Kiana, and she looped her arm through his and glared at the girl.

  Frank chuckled. “Making a claim on me?”

  “More like telling her not to offer you a lap dance while you’re the celebrity face of my foundation.” True, their relationship—if she dared to call it that—was nothing more than a farce designed to drum up publicity for her fundraising gala. But she couldn’t ignore the trickle of heat that made its way down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach.

  As the game got under way, though, the unease vanished. Kiana became swept up in the action long enough to forget that this was a fake date. The conversation flowed so easily between her and Frank, it was as though they were old friends. For a football player, he knew as much about basketball as she did—maybe more.

  Near the end of the second quarter, a member of the opposing team elbowed a player going up for a rebound, and the ref failed to call the foul. Kiana jumped to her feet and shouted, “How could you have missed that?”

  A strong hand took hers and pulled her back into her seat. “They don’t need you on the court.”

  “But that ref is blind.” She shook free of him, her body twitching with pent-up rage. “How the hell could he let that slide?”

  Frank’s blue eyes twinkled, and he grinned. “Who’s the hothead now?”

  “But you saw that, right?”

  “Yeah, but refs make bad calls all the time. Arguing with them only makes things worse. Trust me—I know.”

  She crossed her arms and slumped back in her seat. There was no way she was going to win this argument with him staying as cool as a cucumber.

  The second quarter ended, and just before the team went to the lockers for halftime, one of the players nodded to Frank. “’Sup, Kelly?”

  “Just watching you guys play like girls, Dougie,” he teased.

  Kiana’s jaw dropped for the second time that evening. It was one thing to have a conversation with a member of your favorite team, but to crack a joke at his expense?

  Doug laughed it off and went into the locker room.

  Once he left, Kiana gave Frank a light smack in the center of his chest. “You know Doug Boutry?”

  “Yeah, why?” Frank replied, his brows drawing together in puzzlement.

  “Because he’s one of the stars of the team.”

  Frank’s face relaxed into an easy smile. “Maybe, but he sucks at playing Halo.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Her mind still whirled from everything she’d witnessed so far tonight. Her dad had been a legend, but it still didn’t seem to get him into the same circles Frank moved in. “You play video games with him?”

  Frank nodded. “So?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Once again, Frank Kelly had managed to render her speechless.

  “Want to meet him after the game?” he offered.

  Her tongue continued to be a clumsy blob in her mouth. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, if you want.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ll talk him into playing a game of one-on-one with you if it will score me some brownie points.”

  She didn’t know whether or not to believe him, so she chose to roll her eyes instead. “Sure, Frank.”

  “No, I’ll prove it.” He started to rise, but it was her turn to yank him back into his seat.

  Her heart hammered so hard from just the idea of meeting one of her favorite players that she was certain she’d keel over from a heart attack if she actually did. “Maybe later. I need to get home and get some sleep before going into work tomorrow.”

  “Just let me know what works for you, and I’ll arrange it. Anything for you, lovely lady,” he added with a wink and smile.

  The return of the flirtatious Frank soothed her rattled nerves and brought them back to the relaxed vibe they’d enjoyed earlier, and her lips rose into a matching grin. “You just don’t give up, do you?”

  He shook his head and waited for the dance team to finish their routine before ordering another round of Cokes from the girl designated to serve them that evening.

  At the end of the third quarter, the dreaded Kiss Cam made an appearance on the screen. Frank nudged her and said, “You know, my brother met his future wife because of one of those.”

  “Are you telling the truth, or is this a load of blarney?”

  His eyes widened in mock innocence, and he crossed his heart. “It’s the truth.”

  She was about to roll her eyes again, but someone behind them tapped her shoulder. She followed his finger to the big screen and stared at her image.

  Frank leaned in and murmured in her ear, “Shall we give them a good show?”

  She licked her lips. After all, it was just a show. A publicity stunt she’d come up with to help get some attention for her father’s foundation. What damage would one little kiss do?

  Kiana closed the space between them, aiming for a demure peck on the cheek, but Frank intercepted her by locking his lips on hers.

  Sweet Jesus! It was ten times more intense than the kiss they’d shared over lunch. Fire, passion, heat—it was all there for her delight. She closed her eyes and indulged in what he offered her, savoring the warmth of his touch and the sugary sweetness of the Coke that lingered on his lips. It infected her to the point where she gathered his shirt in her hand and fought the urge to rip it off.

  And yet, despite the intensity of it all, Frank still managed to keep it PG rated. His tongue never got involved, much to her dismay, and after they’d gotten a chorus of cheers from the audience, he managed to pull away. “Careful, Kiana,” he said in a tight voice. “Remember the kids.”

  She opened her eyes and blinked several times to clear the lust-filled haze that clouded her vision. When things came into focus, she found Frank staring at her with something akin to a grimace.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” His chest rose and fell at the same breathless rate as hers. “Just fighting the urge not to sling you over my shoulder and take you somewhere more private so we can really kiss.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t stage that kiss like the other one?”

  “Nope.” He turned and faced the court. “And if you had been anyone else, they’d have to censor that kiss.”

  “Meaning?”

  He turned back to her and arched one brow. “Do I need to show you how turned on I am by you? It’s turning into pure torture trying to behave when I’m around you.”

  “And why are you trying so hard to behave?”

  “Because until you decide you want to make things real, I’m minding my manners.”

  His answer caught her off guard. Maybe this wasn’t all a show to Frank. Lord knows, he didn’t kiss like a man out to fake a relationship. Too bad she wasn’t in a place where she could make things real between them. If things had been different, she’d have no problem letting her guard down and going out with him. But she was no longer the carefree woman she’d onc
e been. She had responsibilities, obligations, a reputation to uphold. And none of those allowed her to get involved with Frank Kelly.

  Silence replaced the easy conversations they’d enjoyed earlier, and as Frank walked her back to his car after the game, he stared at the ground and shuffled his feet along the concrete. “Did I overstep my bounds, Kiana?”

  “No,” she replied with a bit of caution.

  She waited for him to open the car door, but he braced his outstretched arm against the window beside her. “Then let me just clear the air for a minute. I like you, Kiana. A lot. Too much, actually. And I’d like to go out with you, even after this whole fundraiser thing is over. But if you don’t feel the same way, then please let me know now so I don’t say or do anything that will earn me a slap in the face.”

  Her mind listed a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t engage him, but her body had different ideas. She arched against him, her body against the hard contours of his muscles, and captured his cheeks between her hands. “How about you give me one of those kisses that need to be censored?”

  “As you wish.”

  She’d expected something playful or flirtatious from him, but from the second his mouth engaged hers, she was left breathless. This wasn’t a kiss for pure show. It was real. No reservations. No acting. No holding back. Just pure, raw desire playing out with every movement of his lips.

  He silently pleaded for her to open her mouth, and when she did, a moan of pleasure escaped from her. Damn, the boy could kiss. His arm circled her waist and held her against him while his tongue performed a forbidden dance that made her crave a night filled with naked bodies and tangled sheets. She breathed him in, the scent of his aftershave heightening her desire until she forgot about everything but him.

  Then he cupped his hand along the back of her neck, and a painful rush of memories overtook any pleasure she might have known. A chill rippled through her veins. She jerked back with a gasp, reminded of all the times Malcolm had grabbed her there and squeezed the muscles at the base her skull just before he struck her.

  “Kiana?” Frank asked, his voice filled with worry.

  It was enough to pull her from the flashbacks, but not enough to tame the trembling in her hands. She hid them behind her back and leaned against the car, fighting the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. Her breaths shook with choked-back sobs. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  She didn’t want to tell him about that chapter of her life, of the months she’d cowered and let a man physically and emotionally beat her. She’d been strong enough to get away from Malcolm, but it was still very clear that she hadn’t been able to put the past behind her. Her voice shook as she replied, “Please, Frank, just take me back to the office.”

  Concern filled his blue eyes, followed by confusion and then resignation. “Of course.”

  He opened the door, and she sank into her seat. Shame replaced her terror, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze as they drove back into the city.

  Several minutes ticked by before Frank asked, “He hit you, didn’t he? The asshole in the club?”

  She turned to him, ready to ask how he knew, but the murderous expression on his face silenced her.

  “I only wish I beat him harder than I did.” Frank’s hands gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckled rage. “Men like him don’t deserve any mercy.”

  “Frank—” Her voice caught, and she turned back to the window. “It’s in the past.”

  “Maybe, but it obviously still bothers you.”

  “It’s my problem, not yours.”

  “Bullshit.” He punched the accelerator of his Maserati, and it took off with enough force to push her back against her seat. His anger waned as the speedometer rose, and he added, “You know I would never do that to you, right?”

  Did she? The man who made a living out of tackling grown men to the ground? The man who’d broken her ex’s jaw with a series of well-placed punches?

  And yet, for all his history of violence, he’d been nothing but calm and considerate to her. If she ignored the scene at the club and what she’d seen on the TV every Sunday during football season, she’d almost believe he didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

  When she didn’t answer right away, a whispered curse flew from his lips, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Never mind.”

  “Like I said, it’s not you. It’s me.” She shivered in spite of the warm evening. “Some things are just harder to forget than others, and when you touched me there…”

  Now it was her turn to mutter a curse under her breath. She hated revealing her vulnerability to him. She wanted to present the self-assured, confident, indestructible side of herself to Frank, not the weak, flawed version she’d become when she’d dated Malcolm. “Please, let’s just change the subject, okay?”

  “Fine.” The terse manner in which he said the word, though, showed he was anything but fine with ending the conversation that way, along with the way his car wove in and out of traffic as though the Downtown Connector was a NASCAR speedway. “Let’s talk about the fundraiser. I saw there was going to be a silent auction of some sports memorabilia.”

  Finally, something she could talk to him about that didn’t make her horny or scared. “We have a few things of my dad’s.”

  “I’ll gladly donate a couple of things, too, but I was wondering if you’re willing to open it up to sports other than football.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The car slowed back down to the flow of traffic, and his grip loosened on the steering wheel. “Well, football’s not the only sport where kids can get hurt.”

  “We focus primarily on football, but we can supply gear to all youth sports programs.”

  “Exactly, so why don’t I ask around and see if I can get some other local athletes involved in the fundraiser. Dougie, for example.”

  Her heart stuttered for a few beats. “You mean you could get Doug Boutry to donate something to the auction?”

  “Of course I can.” He gave her a charming grin. “You’ll find I can be pretty convincing. And it wouldn’t be limited to just Doug. I can ask my teammates to provide a few things, maybe even get the team’s owners to provide a couple of seats in the suite for a game. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

  She wiped her damp palms on her jeans as she considered his offer. “You’d be willing to do that for me?”

  “Anything to stay on your good side.” He took the Midtown exit near her office. “I’m just surprised you didn’t think of it before.”

  A dozen excuses sat poised on the tip of her tongue, but it was the most honest one that came out. “I have a hard time asking people for help.”

  “And yet, you asked me,” he said softly.

  “Yeah, but I had some leverage over you.”

  “I would’ve done it even if you hadn’t bailed me out.”

  She chuckled, and the last of the cold dread fled her soul, leaving behind an odd sensation she couldn’t quite pinpoint. There was a sincerity to Frank’s words that made her wonder how much of it was the truth. “For the record, I never bailed you out.”

  “You got me out of the slammer, and that’s what counts.” His grin widened. “Can you imagine what someone as good looking as me would’ve had to endure if I’d stayed in there?”

  His good-natured conceit lightened the mood, and she laughed wholeheartedly. Leave it to Frank to take her from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other in a matter of minutes. But it felt good, being with him. Even after she’d revealed her shortcomings, he’d managed to make her feel better. And he showed no evidence of losing interest in her, judging by the way his gaze kept flickering her way as he zoomed through the streets.

  He drove into the parking garage of her building and parked next to her car. Before she could even grab the handle of her door, he was out of his seat and jogging around the car to open it for her. “Allow me, lovely lady.”

  “Still trying
to get on my good side?” she quipped while smothering a grin.

  “You can say that.” He took her hand to help her out, but didn’t release it right away. His eyes darkened, and his face grew uncharacteristically serious. “Kiana, if I’m going too far, please tell me.”

  Her breath hitched, allowing his scent to linger in her nose long enough for her to recognize the masculine notes of leather and cedar in his cologne. “Depends on what you’re planning to do.”

  “Can we try that kiss again?” He held up his hands in surrender. “I promise not to lay a finger on you.”

  That kiss had been nice. At least, until he touched the back of her neck. But maybe, just maybe, she could enjoy one more. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his.

  If the earlier kiss had been raw and unrestrained, this one was gentle and cautious. And frustratingly tame. Frank allowed her to control the tempo and the heat of the kiss, responding to the demands of her tongue, but obviously holding back. She opened one eye to see his hands shaking at his sides. A whimper rose from his throat, forming a silent plea that convinced her to tear down the wall he was trying to stay behind.

  She grabbed his hands and placed them on her bottom.

  A muffled gasp followed, and the chains that had been holding Frank at bay vanished. He grabbed her ass with vigor and pressed her against him while he deepened the kiss. A moan rose into the still night air, but she couldn’t tell if it was from him or her. All she knew was the rising desire building between them that made her want to forget everything but him.

  She allowed herself this one moment of bliss, to fall into the arms of a man who knew how to kiss her in a way that made her toes curl. A man who caressed her generous curves like she was the most desirable woman on earth. A man who made her feel safe and secure in his arms even while he tempted her to engage in the most reckless behavior she’d embraced in over two years.

  But she couldn’t be reckless anymore. She was a mother, and she didn’t want to make the same mistakes her mother had. The thought of her daughter tempered her lust long enough for her to end the kiss before it got out of hand.