by Nikki Duncan
“D. You gonna serve?”
“Yeah.” He turned his attention back to the game with the ball poised on his left hand. His gaze drifted back to his wife and her date. The man pulled her against his body and kissed her. Silhouetted against the lowering light of the sun, her body stiffened. She’d never stiffened in Danny’s arms.
“D!”
“Sorry.” Jerking himself back to his job, he tossed the ball and slammed his hand against the leather skin.
The ball raced over Will’s head and then the net. Drake dove for the ball, barely managing to bump it as he skidded across the sand on his stomach. Logan squatted low and bumped the ball higher, giving Drake time to rise and hit the ball onto Will and Danny’s side of the court.
Will volleyed it to Drake, who volleyed it to Danny. Distracted by Tabatha pushing her date away, Danny almost missed the ball. Instead of connecting fully, his hand grazed the surface, sending the ball wide and out of bounds on the other side.
“Twenty nineteen,” Drake called with a note of victory.
Clearly aware of Danny’s distraction, even if he didn’t know the cause, Logan served the ball toward Danny, driving him close to the court boundary. Down the beach, Tabatha pushed her date away again. Danny missed the ball.
“Twenty twenty,” Drake said more victorious than the last time.
Will retrieved the ball and walked to Danny and followed his gaze down the beach. “You gonna play this game or be a voyeur?”
“Play.” His response was automatic, but he didn’t look away from Tabatha or the way her body curved beneath her clothes. When her date turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the beach alone, rage coursed through Danny. No man given the honor of spending time with Tabatha should leave her standing alone on a beach.
Catching the irony, and growing angry with himself, because he’d left her alone on more occasions than he could count, Danny turned back to the game. “This ends. Now.”
Tossing the ball back to Logan, Danny spread his legs and prepared for the rest of the game. He’d come to Miami to prove to himself and to Tabatha that he had what it took to be a serious adult. One part of that was to stop letting people down, and Will, even in a practice match, was a big part of that.
Logan tossed the ball into the air and served it again to Danny’s side. This time, instead of it soaring past him, Danny turned sideways and bumped the ball to Will on the front line. Will popped it high and Danny rushed in for a dig that made a slight pop as leather smacked sand.
“Twenty-one twenty,” Will said as he caught the ball and went to the serve spot. “Stay sharp, D.”
His spine tingled with awareness and he knew without looking that Tabatha had walked close enough to see them. She was watching him. Her attention moved across him, awakening a hum of determination. The moment he’d wanted was here. He had a chance to show her how serious he could be about something and he’d be damned if he failed.
“Serve the ball,” he said to Will.
Will tilted his head in acknowledgement and served. Back and forth, each side taking their three hits, they volleyed the ball. Each round of volleys grew more aggressive and each round invigorated Danny more, driving him harder and harder to prove himself.
Every contact his hand made with the ball he pictured another man kissing his wife or he saw her walking out or her not giving him another chance. Every failure and disappointment and frustration from the last year bubbled to the surface and fueled his game.
He would win this set and then he would win back his wife.
Drake and Logan called to each other with every hit. Will and Danny did the same. Tabatha sat in the sand just inside the ring of light from the court lights. Her skirt pooled around her and she rested her chin on her knees, watching intently. He had her attention and he was going to keep it.
Logan drove the ball toward Danny, hard. Danny met his gaze for the briefest moment through the net as the ball flew to his face. When it was close enough, he sank low beneath the ball and then jumped high, driving the ball back toward Logan with a slight downward angle. Leather slapped sand, sending a flurry of grains across Logan’s bare feet.
“Hell yeah! Twenty-two to twenty,” Will yelled in satisfaction. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Last set decides the match.” Drake said as he and Logan ducked under the net to change sides.
He wanted only to be with Tabatha, to make sure she got home safely, but he was still on the clock and with her shoes at her side and her arms hugging her legs, she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. He was in a hurry to talk to her, though, so he played the last set as aggressively as he’d played the end of the last game.
Will matched him move for move and they drove Drake and Logan across the court, controlling the game and winning a quick victory of fifteen to ten. All four of them were dripping with sweat as they grabbed their water bottles and drained them.
Drake and Logan said goodbye and headed to their cars. Will nodded behind Danny. “Company.”
“I know.” Tabatha’s energy buzzed across the air and over him, growing more intense the closer she got. It had always been that way. He could be at home and know she was close before she pulled into the drive.
He smiled as he turned. “Tabatha.”
“Nice game. I didn’t know you could be so aggressive.”
“Neither did I,” Will said, offering a hand. “I’m Will.”
“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand, not caring in the least that his partner was covered in sand and sweat. “You been playing with this bum long?”
Will released her hand and wiped his towel over his forehead. “Feels like forever, but it seems he had some hidden drive.”
“I might know what you mean.” She looked at Danny like she was trying to solve a puzzle. He was okay with the scrutiny because it meant she was thinking about him and that meant he hadn’t screwed up too horribly.
It was great that his wife and teammate were getting along so well so quickly, but he’d dealt with enough thoughts of her and other men for the night. “You two realize I’m standing here, right?”
“You’re kind of hard to miss, Danny.” She smiled the playful smile she’d once graced him with daily. “I mean, have you smelled you?”
“We can’t all smell as good as you, Tabatha.” And he loved to smell her. He’d gone so far as to buy a bottle of her favorite perfume when her smell had faded from the sheets. The bottle was almost gone now, making him extra glad she was back in his life.
“Well,” Will said, winking at her, “on that note, I’m out of here. Great game, Danny. Whatever got into you, you should play like that more often.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He wouldn’t mind playing the same way, but he didn’t want to ever have the same motivation again.
“It was nice meeting you, Tabatha. I’m not sure why you’d marry this guy, but I can see why he moved here for you.”
“Thanks.” Her response was for Will, but her gaze narrowed slightly on Danny. When Will was gone, she asked, “You told him about me?”
“I have no reason not to.” Grabbing his bag, he slipped the strap onto his shoulder. “Can I give you a ride home?”
“I’d like that.”
He couldn’t stop the grin any more than he could stop his heart from doing a somersault or his eyes from wanting to tear up. Her agreement to spend even a few minutes with him was a major victory.
Now he only had to not screw it up.
Chapter Five
Other than giving Danny directions to her apartment, Tabatha held her silence on the ride home. She used the time to attempt to process what she’d witnessed on the beach.
Danny Sampson, the man she’d married, had refused to accept responsibility for anyone or anything and he’d never opened up about himself to his friends. Daniel Hampton, volley
ball player, approached his job with a seriousness that made him dependable and he’d talked to his teammate about her.
Maybe he had changed. In some ways.
“Can I walk you to your door?” he asked when he pulled into a parking spot.
“Sure.” She’d expected her night to end at her door, maybe with a kiss goodnight. The man she’d pictured had been different, simpler. As they walked to the door, she asked, “I know you always loved the beach, but where’d you learn to play volleyball like that?”
“High school. I won a scholarship for college.”
“You never told me you were a jock in school. Do you always play as aggressively as you did tonight?”
He shrugged. “Guess we had other things on our minds in the getting-to-know-each-other phase of our relationship. And no.”
Yeah. Sex.
“When we passed that phase, I was already in the piss-you-off-all-the-time phase.”
She chuckled as she pulled her key from her purse. “You were good at that.”
“Good?” He laughed and took the keys from her to unlock the door. “I was the expert. Wanna see if I still am?”
“No.” She shook her head and looked up to face him. “I’m not really in the mood to get mad tonight.”
“What are you in the mood for, Tabatha?” Danny, in the slow way only Danny could, caressed her face with his eyes so it felt like he’d swept a touch over her entire body.
There wasn’t a flip-flopping sensation in sight, but her skin tingled. If he actually touched her the chill would turn into heat.
Unexpectedly, she wanted him to touch her. To kiss her. To take her inside and make love to her the way he used to. She wanted to forgive him for every late and forgotten date, for every irresponsible and stubborn moment of their marriage. Forgiveness was hard and though she was nearly ready for it, she wasn’t ready to admit it to Danny. She could admit to the one thing that had never been a problem for them.
“A kiss. I miss your kiss.” Especially after the tongue bath she’d gotten from Connor.
Danny swallowed. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t want to lead you on and I’m not saying I want to get back together—” and she was teetering on dangerous ground with him, “—but yeah. I’m sure.”
Danny opened the door behind her and nodded for her to move inside. She obeyed, sliding around the doorframe so her back was to the inside wall. He followed her, still not touching her, and closed the door. Standing in front of her, so close but not close enough, he swallowed again. “Be sure, Tabatha. Be really sure.”
She was sure she was going to screw something up with whatever she said next. She just wasn’t sure what. “I’m sure, Danny. Kiss me.”
“Are you doing this to erase your date’s kiss?”
“No.” Yes. Not entirely.
“You’re a bad liar.” He stepped closer, positioning one foot between hers and the other foot on the outside. Leaning close, but still not touching her, he angled his head. “If I breathe you in are you going to get mad?”
“I’ll try to control myself.” As long as he touched her before much longer. The man drove her to madness with his patience. That was something that remained the same.
He flattened a palm against the wall beside her head and brushed his nose along her face at the hair line, inhaling. “It’s just not the same,” he whispered more to himself than her.
Still she asked, “what?”
“Your perfume. It smells so much better on you than in a bottle.”
A tickling shiver danced along her spine. “What did you do? Buy a bottle?”
“Your scent faded from the pillow.” He slid an index finger along the edge of her collar. “I missed you.”
Her skin heated beneath his touch. Her mind filled with a haze that only his kiss would clear.
“It wasn’t easy for me either,” she admitted. Sleeping without him wrapped around her, hogging the bed, had been miserable. She’d expected to enjoy having room and the freedom to move. Instead, she slept in the same spot as if pinned by him.
“Tabatha.” His voice was a whisper as his mouth moved over her neck right above her collar bone. “Will you let me take you on a proper date?”
“Sure.” He was weakening her, big time. She’d agree to most anything to have him kiss her. Her body hummed as she arched against his.
He shuddered, but didn’t move any faster as he trailed dry kisses up her neck and along her jaw. Each one was nothing more than a press of his closed lips against her skin. His warm exhales were sighs of pleasure that weakened her further.
Moaning, she slid her hands up his face and knocked his ball cap off so she could thread her fingers through his hair. So thick, she loved his hair despite it still being a little damp with sweat. “Danny.”
“I’m going to do this on our date, Tabatha. Are you ready for that?”
“Yes.” She was ready now. Applying pressure with her fingertips, she silently begged him to actually kiss her and stop teasing.
He took her hint.
“Good.” Saying nothing else, he rested a hand on either side of her neck and moved in. His gaze locked with hers until he was too close for her to really register details. His lips pressed against hers.
At first the touch was like the kisses he’d pressed to her neck. Dry and close-lipped. Then, he angled his head and parted his lips the slightest bit.
She mirrored him.
The tip of his tongue touched the inner lining of her lower lip and she trembled against him. Side to side, he changed the angle of his head, changing with it the angle and depth of his kiss. His fingertips massaged her hairline.
Her body contracted, tightened with the need he awakened. She’d asked him to kiss her, knowing she was going to screw something up. Turned out her peace of mind was what she was messing with.
She hadn’t found a man worth moving forward with on any of her dates, because none of them had measured up to Danny on his good days.
She’d walked away from Connor thinking about Danny and his kiss.
She wanted to be strong, to be able to say she didn’t need him and that she’d made the right decision leaving him. She’d tried to hang on to the anger and misery that had driven her away, yet he was intent on making that impossible.
The delivery of lip gloss, something she’d wound up putting in her purse and using multiple times through the day. The way he dominated the volleyball court while working smoothly with his teammate. The way he’d spoken to her and looked at her after the game as if she was more important than anything else. The realization that he’d talked about her with Will, that he’d allowed himself to trust a friend with something. The sweetness in his demand for her to be sure she wanted a kiss, as if he’d have stepped back if she changed her mind.
They were all tiny things and so monumental.
And it all played in her head while he kissed her, driving her closer and closer to full-on desperation to ask him into her bedroom.
Tabatha squeezed her eyes and forced herself not to climb him or pull him deeper into the kiss. They could go to her room and make love and it would be amazing. Then the aftermath would hit and she’d have to tell him she wasn’t ready to reconcile, that they weren’t getting back together.
Who had she been trying to kid? She wasn’t going to screw things up. She already had.
Pulling her hands away from his head, she rested them on his shoulders and pushed lightly. He instantly broke the kiss and stared into her eyes.
Her heart shook with the possibilities of what he might say next or what she should say. Danny beat her to the punch. “I should go. I have an early practice.”
He didn’t step back though.
“Right.”
“Are you free for lunch? Maybe something quick and simple between clients?”
“I s
hould be.”
He traced a finger along her collar and grinned as he named a burger joint near the beach. She was a little disturbed by how quickly and easily she agreed to meet him. She was more disturbed that she wasn’t more disturbed.
With a final, practically chaste kiss, Danny said goodnight and left.
If her goal was divorce and keeping him at bay she was doing a lousy job at communicating the desire.
Her friends would have a hellaciously good time with her dilemma. She was almost confused enough to call one of them to talk it out. Instead of inviting that level of hell, she did something she knew would simplify life.
She logged onto her computer and cancelled her online dating profile. Whatever men were waiting to meet her would have to move on to the next woman. Tabatha was nowhere near ready to be dating.
As long as she was asking herself if each man shared Danny’s bad traits or good ones, and doubting their good ones could be as amazing as Danny’s, she wouldn’t be ready. No man would stand a chance.
Danny secured a table with an unobstructed view of the front door and settled in to wait for Tabatha. His heart raced, more nervous than on any date.
Oldies music that reminded him of a Frankie Avalon movie set at the beach played through the speakers. Hell, the whole place reminded him of something from a movie, with the old-fashioned shakes and gigantic burgers made from real beef instead of a frozen patty. Its charm was why he kept coming back.
“Hi, Danny.” Norma, the motherly owner of the place came to the table with a large glass of ice, a pitcher of water and a chocolate malt. “What can I get you today?”
He changed his food order pretty often, but he always drank a pitcher of water and a malt. “I’m not sure yet. I’m meeting someone so I’ll just wait for her.”
“Ooh? I get to see what kind of woman you attract?”
“Yes. And, she’s got a wicked habit of being on time so you’ll see soon enough.” His early arrival would likely send Tabatha into shock, but it was one of the things they’d argued most about. Which made it one of the things he had to show had changed.
