Just Play

by Taylor Hart

  He sat on his bed, laying back onto the pillows and then turning sideways and propping his head into his hand. “So.” He couldn’t stop himself from grinning at being here with her.

  Mimicking his body position, she lay down on her side. “So.”

  He shot back up, not liking that the little table stand with the phone and the lamp was between them. He unplugged everything, picked it up, and moved it to the other side of the room.

  She laughed. “What are you doing?”

  Without responding, he moved to the other side of his bed and then pushed it closer to hers until it was touching. Then he jumped onto the bed, assuming the same position on his side with his head propped in his hand. Only now he was only three inches away from her not a foot and a half. Every part of him felt alive and awake. No, he definitely didn’t need sleep.

  Her eyes creased and she reddened. “You’re an interesting man, Sam Dumont.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “That’s better.”

  Her blush deepened. “The way you look at me…” She broke off.

  He was sure his own cheeks were a little red. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, for lack of better words at the moment.

  Relaxing, she grabbed a pillow and positioned it under her head. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  Holding himself back from moving closer to her, he settled for hand holding, happy to be with her. He scoffed. “There are no other girls.”

  Her blue eyes, eyes that reminded him of the color of the waves in the early hours of the morning. She looked down. “So how many girls have there been?” Her voice was tentative.

  He didn’t really want to discuss this. “I’ve only been with Sheena. Really been with…”

  She frowned and studied him. “But what about all those girls splattered on the front of the Enquirer with you?”

  He shrugged. “I took them out, but that was it.” He sighed. “I figured I could hardly keep myself sane. Not a great time to start a relationship.”

  Compassion filled her face. She took her hand out of his and gently touched the side of his face. “Tell me more about the panic attacks and your shrink.”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it with her. Honestly, he didn’t mind, but he wasn’t really great at being vulnerable in front of anybody.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  Covering her hand, he rolled onto his back. “No, I want to tell you.”

  She waited.

  “I guess it’s the same sad tale. A guy falls in love, and a guy gets his heart broken.” His heart rate shot up a notch. He didn’t like talking about the past, but he knew he had to clear the air between them. “In high school and college, I dated a bit, but I was focused on football. I had to be.” He shrugged. “You know my dad was an alcoholic and ended up losing everything after my mother died. I…I went to live with my dad’s parents when I was seventeen. My life was uncertain. The only way I felt I could get control was through football. So I kept my head down and worked. I wish I could say I didn’t do a lot of stuff with women because it was a moral thing.” He thought of her, how good she was, and what she believed in. “But it wasn’t. I was in survival mode. And when I got a scholarship to Miami, I was running from my old life. Now that I think about it, the panic attacks actually started then, but I didn’t understand them. This kid on our team got hurt. It was a neck injury that took him out of the game for good. He recovered, but I never forgot how terrified I was. I mean, of course I knew the risks of football, but that made me realize I seriously needed to have a back up plan for my life if I didn’t want to be like my father.”

  Her face remained unreadable, but Tiffany kept her hand in his.

  He kissed the back of her hand. “I guess I’ve been running, in one way or another, ever since then. I finished my business degree at the top of my class. Then fate worked out, and I got drafted.”

  Tiffany nodded, slowly. She scooted closer to him. Her hair fell onto his shoulder and he gingerly reached for it.

  Their eyes met and his breath hitched.

  “Sam Dumont, tortured soul, running from his demons.”

  The way she said it, like she really got it, melted everything inside of him and made him want to hold her and never let go.

  “What?” she asked.

  How did he describe to her how amazing she was?

  She hesitated. “Would you go back to Sheena, if you could?”

  “What?” The question took him off guard.

  “I know she left you.” Tiffany hesitated. “What if she came back for you?”

  He had to level with her. “I’ve wondered about that this past year.”

  She didn’t speak for a second.

  “But I know I wouldn’t go back to her now.” He didn’t want to tell her the magnitude of how he was feeling toward her too soon. It might scare her away. She wasn’t like other girls—all needy and looking for a way to play him. So he simply picked up more of her hair.

  “You like my hair.”

  He petted the softness of it and closed his eyes, pulling some over to his face, smelling it, and running it softly against his skin. He chugged out a laugh. “Okay, you’re hair is like a religion to me. I’ll admit it.”

  This made her laugh, and she inched closer to him, laying her head down on his shoulder.

  He closed his eyes, relishing her so near to him.

  Unsure how long they lay there, he didn’t know exactly when he’d fallen asleep.

  * * *

  All he knew, when he jerked awake, was he had to get up. He jolted up to a sitting position.

  “What are you doing?”

  Gently, he pushed her to a sitting position. “I’m going to walk you back to your room.”

  She didn’t move for a second. Then she stood and rubbed her eyes. “Okay.”

  When they got to her room, he gently kissed her cheek then her lips, lingering a bit longer. “Tiffany Chance, country music star, I’m going to do this right with you.”

  The side of her lip tilted up. “I’ll let you.”

  39

  The next day Tiffany couldn’t deny that she had butterflies in her stomach as they left the hotel, and when Sam got onto the interstate toward Denver, she liked the fact he turned on the radio and then reached for her hand.

  She wasn’t exactly sure what this was between them. Obviously, they were dating. But, it was more. Much more.

  They didn’t talk much as they went from Boulder into the heart of Denver. It was lunchtime when they pulled into the outlet mall outside of Castle Rock. Sam made her stay as he got out and went around the car to open her door.

  “Are we eating here?” She kept her hand in his as they walked toward the strip mall.

  “Nope.” Sam pumped his eyebrows.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll see.” He grinned and opened the door to the mall for her.

  The feel of his strong hand in hers and the way he confidently walked into the mall, like he was the super cool guy in high school, made the edges of her lips pull into a smile. Brett had been the alternative punk guy. He claimed to live his life as a statement, but now, as she stood with Sam, she realized Brett almost slunk to the edges, waiting for his chance to pounce on an opportunity—to get something free, to get noticed. But Sam, he faced the world head on, almost daring someone to get in his way. It was there in the way he walked and the way he stared people in the eyes, challenging them. He wasn’t mean, but he was determined. Until last night, she hadn’t realized why he’d had to be so determined. After hearing about him losing his mother and pretty much getting abandoned by a father, she was even more proud of him for making it. For taking what he wanted. She used to think he was such a jerk. Now, she saw he had that hard layer for a reason—he had needed it. She no longer saw the tough guy. She saw a simple man, trying to make her happy.

  They walked through the mall for a couple of seconds and then stopped in front of a boutique.
<
br />   “Why are we here?”

  Sam opened the door, giving her a mischievous grin. “Well, you mentioned you needed ‘star’ clothes.” He gestured for her to go inside.

  “Oh no.” She would not be this girl, the one that had a man do everything for her. She turned back out of the boutique.

  His hand clamped down on her wrist, stopping her.

  Yanking her hand free, she felt her heart racing. “You’re not buying me stuff,” she insisted.

  Hesitating for a second, Sam slumped against the side of the door, a grin wide on his face. “Dang, woman, you’re prideful.”

  This hadn’t been what she had thought he would call her independence. “Sorry if I’m not one of ‘those’ girls that uses you for your money.” Yanking her hand out of his, she moved down the walk way.

  He fell into step with her. “I know you’re not one of those girls. You work harder then almost anyone I’ve ever met—waitressing, helping your mama and your friends, working on your music.”

  “Exactly.” She shot at him, trying to figure out where they’d come into the mall.

  Doing a quick maneuver, he stepped in front of her. “I just need you to answer one question for me.”

  Almost bumping into him, she stopped. “Sam…move.”

  Those chocolate eyes weren’t smoldering now, but they were intense. It was like he was reading the field, like he was about to throw a touchdown. “Please, just listen.”

  Taking a breath, she crossed her arms. “Fine.”

  The dark jeans and tight white Under Armour shirt he wore stretched over his heaving chest. He put up a finger. “If I needed something, would you buy it for me?”

  She gave little shakes of her head back and forth. “But you don’t need anything.”

  He kept his finger pointing at her. “That’s not the point. If I did, would you buy it?”

  She scoffed. “Something like food, but not boutique clothes.”

  Reaching out, he put a light hand on her shoulder. “But if I needed it to be successful, to have a shot, would you do it to show that you believed in me?” The middle of his eyes creased. “If I needed money for a football camp or new cleats?”

  Understanding his analogy, but not liking it, she broke eye contact. “This is different.”

  He dropped his hand but moved in line with her gaze. “It’s no different. It’s not.”

  She didn’t like the way he gave her that half grin that stretched his tiny scar above his lip. Or the way half a dimple showed in his incredibly handsome face. Or the way her stomach churned with angst, knowing he was right.

  “Ah, there it is.” Sam took this as an opportunity to move close to her and slip his arm around her shoulders and point her back in the direction of the boutique. “Please let me buy you some clothes.”

  She let herself be dragged, still glaring at him.

  His eyebrows lifted. “When’s your birthday?”

  She knew he was searching for a reason. “February.” She said, dryly. She’d accepted that he was going to do this for her even though he was right—her pride didn’t like it.

  He grinned, opening the door to the boutique. “Perfect, then it’s a birthday gift.”

  Shaking her head, she pushed away from him, realizing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Yeah, seven months early.”

  He followed her. “Then an almost half-birthday gift.”

  This earned him a smile.

  Stopping, she tugged a flashy jacket up and off of the hanger. It was jean with brown leather strappy things hanging down, and it was completely blinged out with gold.

  Sam looked her up and down, and his eyes lit up. “I like it.” He nodded.

  She looked at the price tag then put it back.

  He picked it right back up, draping it over his arm.

  “That’s three hundred dollars.” She shook her head.

  The tone of her voice didn’t seem to bother him. “Oh, we’re going to spend a lot more than that today.”

  A bit overwhelmed, she looked around the store.

  A petite sales girl walked over to them, smiling shyly.

  He grinned at her. “What’s your name?”

  “Shelby.”

  Sam nodded to Tiffany. “Shelby, if you could make sure she gets about five complete outfits—tops, skirts, pants, jackets, hats, jewelry.” He flashed her another smile. “This girl is an up and coming country singer, and she needs to look it, okay?”

  The girl, who had probably just graduated from high school, lit up. “You got it.”

  Then he leaned into Tiffany, softly kissing the side of her ear and whispered, “I’m going to step out and get a soft pretzel while you pick out a few things. Remember, you want the girl to get a nice commission.”

  It was underhanded, the way Sam had used helping someone else as an excuse to buy herself new clothes. Still she couldn’t stop herself from watching him admiringly as he swaggered out, turning back to her and winking before he disappeared.

  40

  Two hours later, the back of the car was jammed full of new clothes, and Sam could tell Tiffany was smarting over the fact that he’d paid for it all. For Sam, it was a little funny. She was not at all like most women that hung in football circles. She was humble and beautiful and…she expected nothing from him.

  Which made him want to give her everything.

  He put his hand over hers, and she gave him a long look.

  “Hey, you’re just going to have to deal with the fact you made me super happy today.”

  A soft smile played at her lips. “How come you giving me stuff makes you happy?”

  She wasn’t being argumentative, and Sam was grateful for that. “Because, when a man seriously courts a woman, he wants to buy things for her.”

  Letting out a light scoff, she leaned back into her seat, closing her eyes. “Courting, that makes me think of Victorian women and how they had to have chaperones.”

  “We probably need one.” He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it.

  They sped down the freeway, and Sam didn’t tell her he’d bought even more things for her for their date tonight.

  She kept her eyes closed and he could tell she was completely relaxed. It made him happy. He glanced at her and then back to the road. Here was a woman that wanted nothing from him except to be with him. She got mad at him for the things he could buy her and despised him for trying to use his fame to help her. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do with her.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly, keeping her eyes closed and her hand inside of his.

  He sighed, deciding to tell her the truth. “I was thinking about how different you are.”

  Her eyes flashed open. “You mean from Sheena.”

  Shrugging, he squeezed her hand gently and then released the pressure. “From Sheena and every other woman I’ve ever spent time with.”

  A low chuckle rumbled out of her. “Is that good or bad?”

  Jerking his head to look at her, he nodded. “It’s…amazing. I’m…” He paused. Could he tell her? Would it scare her?

  But he didn’t have to. Tears bubbled in her eyes. “I know, Sam. I know.”

  Pushing down his emotion, he grinned. “Well, then let’s talk about the train ride we’ll be taking tonight.”

  41

  Tiffany was quickly realizing that being with Sam, meant feeling like she was in some kind of book or movie or something…not her life. And it was kind of hard for her to get used to.

  But she was enjoying the train they’d taken to the top of Pike’s Peak.

  Now they were sitting in a restaurant called The Cliff’s House. From their view, it was like they were floating out above the mountains. There was stillness in the air. Granted, there were soft voices and light music from the other people and the restaurant, but…it was peaceful.

  “What do you think?”

  She turned to Sam. He’d bought them fancy clothes for the night. He wore a grey jacket and a pin t
ie that made him look very urban. With his chocolate eyes and a couple of days growth on his face and his hair combed back so it wouldn’t flop into his eyes, he looked like a Calvin Klein model. Or like he’d just walked off a movie set. Light butterflies thrummed in the lower part of her stomach. She picked up her ice water and took a sip. “Okay, if you’re trying to wow me, it’s working.”

  Satisfaction fell across his face, and he cocked his scarred lip up and nodded. “Good.” He gave her another sweeping look from top to bottom. “Do you like the outfit?”

  Tiffany hadn’t known that the ladies helping her in the store had been directed to select a couple of extra things for her. She smiled, liking the feel of the diamond studded, fitted black dress and fancy red cowgirl boots. “I guess I really do feel like a star in these clothes.”

  Grinning, he scooted his chair closer to hers and took her hand, pulling it up to his lips and kissing the back of it. “The clothes are nice, but you’re a star just because you’re you.”

  Liking this, she could feel herself blush. “Have you been reading up on how to woo women?”

  “You’re admitting to being wooed?” He teased her, gently turning her hand and kissing the inside of her wrist.

  His warm lips against her skin made her feel kind of lightheaded, but she didn’t pull away. “Sam.” She let out his name all breathy.

  He laughed and leaned back, keeping her hand inside both of his. He looked out at the scenery. “So they say that Kathleen Lee Bates was inspired by this view when she wrote the lyrics for “America the Beautiful.”

  Interesting. “Really?” Once again, she looked around, taking in the smells and view. “I believe it, this view is definitely inspiring.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  But when she turned back, he wasn’t looking at the view. He was staring at her.

  42

  The concert the next night at Red Rock Amphitheater, right outside of Denver, was packed and loud and everything a concert should be.