“I’m in trouble,” he murmured upon hearing his name mentioned over the loudspeakers.
“Sounds like it.”
“Wonder how much trouble I’d get into if I told them that I’ve changed my mind. Wouldn’t you much rather go find someplace cool and quiet where we could talk and watch the baby grab at butterflies?”
Jenny’s sigh spoke volumes as she leaned back and adjusted his shirt. “It sounds heavenly, but it’s a little late to back out now. People are counting on you, and regardless of what you say, you’re not the type to back out once you’ve given your word.”
She was proving to be one surprise after another. Mitch slid his hand under the thick silk of her hair to cup her neck. “Who are you, Jenny Stevens?”
“I’ll give you a rain check to find out. But thanks for realizing you don’t have a clue.”
“Promise we’ll get around to a full analysis later in the not-so-distant future?”
“Whenever you like. In the meantime, would you mind going out there and showing me how you really play this game?”
Jenny could have stood there all afternoon and half the night reliving the pleasure of watching Mitch walk away. He was every bit “the hunk” she’d heard some of the female guests call him behind his back. With those toned, tanned legs, slim hips and strong shoulders, he would win over the crowd and charm the media, even if he didn’t win the match. She didn’t want to miss a minute of it.
After changing Mary in the VIP lounge, she returned just as the last match ended. As the scoreboard changed and Mitch’s name appeared along with that of a local TV anchorman, the crowd’s enthusiasm rose.
“Come sit here, Jenny,” Bonnie Dennison called to her from the front row of chairs arranged for those who were serious fans of the game. “I’ve saved you a seat.”
She thanked the vivacious brunette and after settling on the cushioned chair with the baby, got out one of the cooled bottles of boiled water she’d been saving for Mary. Within seconds, Mary’s tiny hands were clenching the bottle and she was sucking contentedly.
“For a novice, you’re handling this awfully well,” Bonnie told her, slipping on a pair of designer sunglasses that matched her blue-and-green silk jumpsuit.
“It’s not difficult to do with a baby that’s as easy to please as Mary.” Jenny did shoot the other woman a wry smile. “Of course, it helps that as a teenager I earned the money to buy my first car by baby-sitting.” She briefly told her about moving in with her grandmother after her parents’ death, and the years spent as Mitch’s neighbor.
“If it’s any reassurance, Neil says he’s been a different person in the past week...and I have a feeling that it’s not just due to the baby.”
Jenny appreciated the comment. However, she felt. uncomfortable discussing Mitch’s situation—or theirs for that matter—with veritable strangers. “Actually, I’ve always sensed he had a tender and caring side. He simply needed a good enough reason to let it surface. The shock of discovering that he’s responsible for another life is doing that.”
Bonnie didn’t appear to take any offense at the slightly formal reply. “I know when to keep my itchy nose out of other people’s private affairs. Let me simply add that I hope he recognizes a good thing when he sees it. Now, tell me, have you seen him play before?”
“Never. But I have seen his trophies.” Not wanting to expose how much she was looking forward to the match. Jenny was relieved to have Mary to focus on. Making sure the little piglet didn’t overindulge provided considerable entertainment for both her and Bonnie. But finally the crowd announced the wait was over.
“Oh, there he is!” Bonnie pointed and burst into enthusiastic applause.
She explained that since this was a charity event, the rather reserved protocol expected of the audience wouldn’t be enforced. Well behaved or not, Jenny listened to the crowd divide itself between Mitch and Bruce Paxton, the TV anchorman. Both accepted the whistles and humorous calls with grins and waves.
Fully expecting Mitch to need his concentration before the game, Jenny didn’t know how to react when Mitch took a moment as he crossed to his side of the court to blow her a kiss.
“Way to go,” Bonnie drawled to her as female groans sounded around the stands.
Jenny didn’t reply. She was too happy to speak. She didn’t have much to say afterward, either, since within minutes her heart was lodged in her throat as she watched Mitch surprise her with how good he was.
The two men probably could have played a polite game and still entertained the female members of the audience. With his dark and compelling presence, Bruce Paxton created an interesting contrast to Mitch’s golden-boy persona. But as was often the case, looks could be deceiving. Both men also exhibited a wicked sense of humor, balanced by a definite love for competition. By the third game, with the score one to one, Jenny knew they were intent on playing as if they were the only two in the tournament.
Volley after volley ripped across the net. Mitch would charge to return and win an impossible point, and with the next serve Paxton would do something equally talented.
“This is awful. They’re both so good!” Jenny moaned, grateful to have Mary to rock to burn off at least a little anxiety.
Bonnie laughed. “You can say that again. But I think our Mitch has an edge. He’s really inspired today.”
That seemed true. He won the first set, although not without difficulty. During the brief break, he retired to the sideline where he mopped his face with a clean towel and gulped down some refreshment handed to him by a ponytailed teenager. He should have used the time to sit down and rest; instead, he again looked toward the box and winked at her:
“See what I mean,” Bonnie said, clapping her approval.
Indeed. But when the second set began with less promise, Jenny realized how dangerous it would be to take anything for granted.
Mitch stumbled and lost a crucial early point, then went on to lose the game. Looking thoroughly disgusted with himself, he hunkered low as Paxton took to his baseline to prepare to serve.
The second set took twice as long as the first, with Paxton winning. By the third set, Mitch was winning, but tiring fast. Each point came hard-won, and several times he lost ground. When the crucial point came where he could win the match, Jenny thought her dress had to be soaked through and through from built-up tension. The heat from her body had even made poor little Mary’s fine blond curls damp. As for the players, as breathless and hot as both looked, they were grinning at each other, but determined not to yield an inch.
Jenny almost missed the end of the match by merely running the back of her hand across her brow. Just in time she saw Mitch deliver a killer serve that must have only cleared the net by a hair. Paxton slammed it back with equal force. Mitch had already begun to move in and shot a return toward the opposite side of the court. Despite a valiant effort, Paxton couldn’t reach it in time.
The crowd leapt to its feet as if witnessing a Wimbledon victory. Bonnie hugged Jenny’s neck before jumping up to cheer like the rest. Jenny simply sat there, too exhausted to move, and too overwhelmed by emotion to do anything but feel tears of pride slip down her face.
It was that expression that Mitch saw after he shook hands with Paxton and turned to wave up at her. She saw his grin fade. No, not fade, exactly, but change. And then she lost sight of him completely in the wall of people moving between them. By the time she found a break to peek through, the new competitors were taking the court and Mitch was nowhere to be seen.
He couldn’t get to her fast enough. Of all times to suddenly realize you could do without ceremony and attention... Mitch barely made it through the presentation of the trophy and the check to the honored charity in the name of Gulf-West. As soon as possible, he ducked the media and the groupies, took the fastest shower in the history of Texas, slipped into the change of clothes he’d brought along, and raced around the back walkways to get to the Gulf-West box.
He almost tipped Jenny over at the last
turn.
“Whoa—Jen!” He took in her tear-stained face, the way she was overburdened with the baby, the bags and things, and quickly grabbed the tote and her shoulder bag from her. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. You—”
“Did something happen?”
“No, I—”
“If someone said something... I know the group I work with can be a rowdy bunch, but if anyone said anything, was rude to you—”
“Mitch, would you shut up! Please!”
He reared back. “Jen?”
Her expression softened. “You won.”
“Yeah...” He watched fresh tears fill her eyes. So he hadn’t been wrong about seeing them before. “So why are you crying?”
“It was wonderful. You were wonderful.”
“Thanks, but then, shouldn’t you be happy?”
“I am happy. And sad. For you, McCord, don’t you get it?”
He was afraid not. “I guess I’m missing a technicality or two.”
“You’re good. Better than good. You should have been the pro you dreamed of being, but your heart got broken.”
“Don’t do that.”
He didn’t want her to say more. Not here.
Taking hold of her arm, he led her toward the nearest exit. Tomorrow he would deal with a good bit of ribbing from the VIPs who liked to get their money’s worth, but this was more important.
Fortunately, most people were staying to watch the doubles matches, so Mitch and Jenny didn’t have to detour much to avoid unwanted attention. Despite the shade tree he’d found to park beneath, the car was baking hot. It took Mitch a minute to key the engine and turn the air conditioner on full-force, and then another minute until it was cool enough for Jenny to set the baby in her seat and get in herself.
When she began to set her seat belt, he stopped her. “Now tell me.”
She sighed. “I already did. And I’m sorry you were embarrassed because of how I reacted.”
“Who said anything about being embarrassed?” Her face was flushed and her hair was damp, but she looked very dear to him. “You cried for me.”
“Why do you keep saying that, McCord? Hasn’t anyone ever spilled tears over you before?”
“I don’t think so. There’ve been a few women who cried because I was a burn, ending a relationship before things got sticky, but ... no. This is a first.”
“Well, enjoy it,” she muttered, blinking hard as she searched in her purse for a tissue. “It’s not something I want to do often.”
Mitch pulled her back to him and framed her face. “I’ve never been more touched.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me. to feel bad for you, but—My gosh, McCord, to think what your family cost you due to their petty differences and selfish squabbling.”
“They didn’t cost me anything, I did it. Me.”
“They should have supported you. Seen what a talent you have.”
“Talent’s not enough. I didn’t have the drive, the need, the staying power.”
“Because you were emotionally stunted—or shortchanged. I don’t know what the technical term is—” she said with an exasperated wave of her hand. “But I recognize the tragedy when I see it.”
As much as he enjoyed this outpouring of concern and compassion, Mitch couldn’t let her continue. He shifted a thumb over her lips. “I made my choices. It’s done.”
“Oh, Mitch—”
“Why don’t you just say congratulations and kiss me.”
She got it out of sequence. First she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The instant be felt their silky heat, Mitch parted them to slake the thirst that no amount of liquid quencher had been able to satisfy.
This wasn’t anything like the sweet, exploring kisses he’d been coaxing from her throughout the week when he’d come home late because he’d been practicing for the tournament. He delved deep into her mouth and stroked his tongue against hers, letting her know exactly what she made him feel, and how slow and thoroughly he wanted to love her.
With a sigh, Jenny shifted to slide her fingers into his shower-damp hair. Encouraged, Mitch shifted and pulled her tighter against his chest. Already, despite the refreshing air blowing from the vents, the knit shirt he’d changed into felt like a heating pad. When he felt Jenny’s full, firm breasts against him, he thought it a wonder the material didn’t melt like nylon on a hot iron.
Angling his head the other way, he intensified the kiss, explored the silky length of her glorious hair, the sleek shape of her back. All the while he plumbed her mouth for more of her essence.
“Congratulations,” she murmured when he freed her mouth, only to explore the creaminess of her graceful neck.
“I like your kind of applause. You’re not sad anymore?”
“It’s difficult to stay that way when you appear so— well—adjusted.”
He laughed softly, enjoying her gentle teasing. The sound was echoed by a more delicate one behind them.
Mitch glanced to the back seat and saw that Mary was smiling at him. “Look, she approves.”
Jenny did shift around to give a gentle shake to the baby’s tiny lacy-socked foot. “You should be exhausted from all the attention you had this afternoon, young lady. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“She must take after her old man.” Mitch studied the alluring movement of Jenny’s breasts as she faced him again. “Once the adrenaline starts flowing, it’s hard to burn it all up.”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” she asked, reaching up to stroke his mustache.
“Only that I want your sweet mouth again, Jen. Don’t ask me to drive all the way home after just one taste of you.”
This time he folded her into his arms from the onset, combed his fingers into the heavy waves of her hair and cupped her head to hold her still while he attempted to sate just a little more of his growing hunger for her. He drank her soft moan, and coaxed her into a sexy tango of tongue against tongue, until he uttered his own throaty satisfaction as her fingers moved restlessly across his shoulders ... her short nails bit into the muscles along his neck.
He relished the feel of her heart beating against his, her nipples tightening. It was too much to resist and, keeping his head enough to remember discretion, it was his right hand he slid to her waist and then up her side. When he found her breast, he explored the feminine swell first with his thumb. Rewarded with a subtle trembling from Jenny, followed by a less subtle thrust closer, he claimed her with his entire hand.
“Mitch.”
“Ah, Jen... I’ve been aching to do this.”
“It feels so good.”
“I wish we were back at the house. I could make you feel even better. Do you ever think about it? My hands learning the secrets of your body?”
“Almost always...and quite a bit more lately.”
“It’s been the same for me.”
“The truth?”
“Cross my heart.”
“Aren’t you the guy who told me you couldn’t make it as a Boy Scout?”
“Before it was easier to resist you, because I could try to forget in the arms of another woman. But...you have to know that’s not the way it is now, Jean.”
“Because your life’s more complicated.”
“It’s not just the baby,” he whispered hotly into her ear. At the same time he stroked his thumb over her again. “You’re making hamburger out of all my stubborn theories and wine out of my bitter memories, sweetheart.”
She framed his face with her hands and searched deep into his eyes. “That’s the loveliest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I wish I could believe you.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“But you could believe you meant something and realize it was a mistake later.”
With a muttered oath, Mitch hugged her so tightly to him she had to arch her head way back to keep looking at him. “I’m not some kid who can’t control what’s in his pants, and
I sure as hell don’t want a one-night stand with you. In fact, I don’t want to rush anything at all. But I do think we are ready to take this relationship onward. I think we’re going to find we’re damn good together, but I promise you, we won’t go any farther than what you’re ready for.”
To convince her, he took her mouth again, nibbling at her lips, biting gently, before intensifying it to the sensual dance they were learning fast and too well. His body burned like an overworked furnace already. He almost shook at the thought of how it would feel to lower Jenny to his living room couch, peel the straps of her dress off her shoulders and expose her flawless skin for his eyes and his touch.
“Say yes.”
Jenny didn’t answer, but she didn’t stop him, either. And when he initiated the next kiss, she became a whole participant. Someone else with a halo around his head might have been able to resist her, but the one presented to him didn’t fit.
He wanted her. He didn’t want to scare her off by telling her how much, but he intended that she know. It was in him to wait, to woo her, especially since he couldn’t believe this was happening himself. But he couldn’t keep his hands to himself totally.
At the very moment he was about to ask her again, he heard a knock behind him. “What the—”
He spun around and saw a man crouched down to peer in the window. It was the last face he wanted to see that afternoon.
Chapter Seven
“Mitch?” Jenny could barely hold back a gasp. “Who’s that?”
He didn’t reply, not at first, and she was left to wonder if the man staring in the window at them was a panhandler, someone with car trouble, or... He didn’t exactly look destitute enough to be a panhandler, but then again, she’d been approached several times in North Dallas by individuals with more jewelry than she owned, aggressively asking for bus fare back to wherever they claimed to be from.
“I’ll be right back.”
She wasn’t sure she heard him right until he reached for the door handle. “Wait a minute,” she began in a panic. “You don’t even know the man! In this day and age you can never be too careful.”
Baby In A Basket Page 9
