Game For Love: Love Games (Kindle Worlds)

by Mara Jacobs

  Declan had been wild his first few seasons, taking advantage of the beautiful women—girls, really—who followed the NFL players. He had indulged in all the excesses the league had to offer, many of them with Cole Taylor as his sidekick. In his fourth season, after being benched for most of the year, his coach had told him he was being traded.

  “If you could just be as focused as I know you could be, you’d be one of the greats, Declan, but you love the partying and the girls too much. I’m just not willing to bet that you’ll grow out of it.” Declan had been traded to the worst team in the league, and it had been the wake-up call he needed.

  His focus became solely football. He spent his off-seasons at his parents’ farm in Ohio, getting up at the crack of dawn, working out, throwing footballs through hung tires for hours on end, working side by side with his father in the fields, and going to bed at dusk. Alone.

  He shunned the nightlife that went along with being an NFL star. He turned down all endorsements, thinking they’d take away from his focus of the game. He steered clear of the fast women, preferring to date quietly, never getting serious with any one woman.

  They were always available, and they weren’t all as trampy-looking as the women who were presently at his house. But the majority of women Declan met, he met through some facet of the game. The hangers-on, the cheerleaders—though that was a league no-no that never stopped Declan—the friends of teammates’ wives, looking to become a player’s wife themselves.

  His desire for women hadn’t waned, and he had more than his fair share, but it wasn’t as decadent and debauched as it had been his first few seasons. No more twins. Or triplets.

  Eight years later he was traded again, this time to Boston. And this time it was an incredible trade, because Declan had indeed become one of the all-time great quarterbacks of the game. It was $180 million/five-year deal that, at the time, had broken all records.

  Now his five years were up, and though the franchise begged him to stay on, he wanted to go out while he could still run off the field, not limp. His body was thirty-nine years old—prime for most other professions, but over the hill for the NFL. The hits he took would wake him at night, keeping him from any real rest. Bruises would just begin to fade by the next game, only to be re-administered.

  And he didn’t even want to think about any damage concussions might have done.

  He also didn’t want to stick around just to be some Yoda-like guru to an up-and-comer that would take his place. He’d pass on his knowledge and wisdom, all right, but hopefully to a son, not some son-of-a-bitch who was waiting for Declan to break a leg.

  They rode in silence and Marlee squirmed a bit against Declan, but he didn’t want to take his arm from around her. He was afraid she’d slide back into the corner of the SUV and face the window again. And damn, he just liked keeping a hold on her. Most of the women he was with were petite things. Marlee had some size on her. Tall and sturdy, something substantial to hold. Or hold on to, as he was now doing.

  They arrived at the restaurant and got out so the valet could take the car, and Marlee, pushing her glasses up her nose, looked up to see they were at one of Boston’s famed steakhouses. Anna noticed at the same time.

  “Cole, Marlee is a vegetarian,” Anna said quietly. “Maybe we could walk down the block and find someplace else?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’m sure I can get a salad here, it’s no problem,” Marlee said.

  Declan figured Marlee assumed he would be downing the largest, rarest steak at the restaurant. Possibly with his bare hands.

  “They have a great house salad here. That’s how I know about this place. Declan is a vegetarian too,” Cole explained.

  Marlee swung her head at Declan, stunned.

  Declan immediately deciphered Marlee’s look. “What’s the matter, being a vegetarian doesn’t fit in the pigeonhole you’ve put me in?” Declan knew he was being overly snide, but he’d been stung by Marlee’s obvious dismissal of him.

  “You’re right, I did assume you were a carnivore, but then so is ninety percent of the U.S. population.” Marlee was gracious in her apology, if just a little smug. She had rambled the statistic out with so much authority that no one would question it.

  He would question it. Question her.

  “Actually, ninety-seven percent are carnivore. The remaining three percent are a combination of vegetarians and vegans. Shall we go in?”

  He took her elbow and guided her through the door, not giving her a chance to respond to his rebuttal. He cast a sideways glance at her and was happy to see she seemed flustered. Declan couldn’t be sure if that was from his unexpected vegetarian status, his knowledge on the subject, or from him simply touching her.

  Damn, but touching her sure made him flustered. Even her frickin’ elbow felt sexy.

  He could feel the strong pull of arousal beginning in his abdomen. If he kept his hands on her, it would be just a matter of time before he was sporting a full-fledged hard-on. Declan couldn’t remember, but he silently prayed that the restaurant had long tablecloths. He needed a shield, because he had no intention of keeping his hands off Marlee.

  He was perceptive to the fact that touching her aroused not only him, but Marlee as well. It was as if he could keep her from thinking too much by using direct contact. It might keep her off-kilter long enough for him to combat this icy-cool façade she’d put in place. He, more than anyone, knew that the best defense was a good offense.

  “Dude, what’s the deal?” Cole asked as he pulled Declan aside while they passed through the coat check area. “What was going on back there?”

  Declan looked at his good friend. He’d played with a lot of guys over the years, and had partied with a bunch of them. None more so than Cole Taylor back in the day. He was glad he and Cole had always stayed in touch even after they both went to different teams.

  He shook his head as he answered. “I don’t really know. I just know that I—we—felt something at my house. And then she totally shut me down in the car.”

  Cole stood toe to toe with him. Cole was a linebacker and had a good four inches and fifty pounds of muscle on Declan. “If she shuts you down, you stay down. She’s a friend of my Anna’s and you can’t pull any of your shit with her.”

  Declan looked at his friend. He hadn’t spent any time with Cole since he’d met and married (on the same night!) Anna. “Dude, marriage has changed you.”

  Cole shook his head. “Not marriage, man. Love. Love changed me.”

  It had. Declan could see that now. “That’s great, man. Really great.”

  Cole smiled, but still stayed in Declan’s face. “Yeah, it is. And if Anna’s friend gets pissed, then my sweet Anna gets pissed. And if that happens, then I get pissed. And I know you’ve seen me get pissed…and it ain’t pretty.”

  “Amen to that,” Declan said. He put a hand on his friend’s bulging bicep. “It won’t get that far, I promise. If she’s really not into me, I’ll back off. But”—he ran his hand through his hair, then looked at Cole—“I’ve got to try. It was too damn good when I held her hand to not imagine how good it could be if it became anything more.”

  Cole studied him for a second, then slowly nodded. “Good enough.” He stepped out of Declan’s way, waving him forward. “This should be interesting.”

  The restaurant was dark, with the only discernible lighting coming from the large candles on each table. The tables were of various sizes, but all round. White linen tablecloths were accented with blood-red napkins. It was a warm, jovial atmosphere. It was a family-oriented steakhouse, typically filled with older couples and young families. Declan had discovered it his first year in Boston and came at least once a week, making friends with Gino, the owner.

  Many of the diners seemed to recognize Declan as they stood at the hostess stand, handing their coats to Cole to hang up. There was much murmuring, and then, as if on cue, the entire place erupted into a round of applause. Most of the men stood up. Declan took the outcry of emoti
on in stride. He hung his head, and then raised it with a wide smile. He gave a little wave of appreciation to them all. After all these years he was still humbled and honored by the devotion he felt from people.

  “Paisan!” Gino greeted Declan. “I’m so honored you’d come here tonight of all nights! It was a shame your final game was a loss, but what can you do when the other team scores fifty-four points?”

  “Score fifty-five?” Declan said with a smile on his face.

  It was true that the Pumas’ defense was horrible this season, but Declan had always been a fierce competitor. He had learned to outwardly take defeat graciously, but inside his stomach would churn for days after a loss. He’d watch hours upon hours of tape, trying to see if there was one thing he could have done differently to change the outcome of the game. Then he’d start watching more tape of the upcoming team.

  No more. There was now an end to all the time spent in dark screening rooms with a remote in his left hand and his right hand furiously scribbling notes. Sometimes it was a tossup as to which had more of an adverse effect on his throwing hand: hurtling a hundred passes during practice, or writer’s cramp from his nightly dissections.

  “Let me get you our best table.” Gino was shaking hands with Declan, but before he could turn away on his quest for the perfect table, Declan pulled him close to whisper something in his ear.

  Gino quickly looked at Marlee, then glanced at Declan, smiled, and nodded. “Right this way. I know just the spot.”

  Marlee gave Declan a look that indicated she wondered what he was up to. Declan just smiled in response. As Marlee passed Declan to follow Gino, he quickly stepped in stride with her and clasped her hand. She didn’t even seem surprised, and only slightly tried to pull away. Progress, Declan thought, as he held on tight.

  Gino led them to the back of the restaurant to a dimly lit, round-tabled booth with high backs. There were few diners at the surrounding tables, the corner being very private. Gino gracefully pulled the table out to allow Anna and Marlee to slide around to the back. Marlee had to disengage her hand from Declan, and he felt an ache as she did.

  After sliding the table back in, Gino turned to Declan before he could slide in next to Marlee. “Paisan, could I impose on you to come back and say hello to Serge?” he asked with a smile.

  “Serge is cooking tonight? Absolutely. No imposition whatsoever.” He turned to the women, but his eyes were on Marlee. “Ladies, will you excuse me for a minute?” They both nodded, and Declan was happy to see a look that resembled regret in Marlee’s eyes. “It’ll only take a second, but Serge and I go way back. Plus, if I say hello, I can guarantee you the most heavenly dinner you’ve ever had.”

  Both Anna and Marlee smiled, Anna making a dismissive shooing motion with her hands. “By all means, then. Tell him to go heavy on the cheese on my order,” Anna said. Marlee only smiled and nodded, but it was a heck of a lot more than he got in the car.

  Yep, definite progress.

  “Well then, I might as well make a trip to the boys’ room,” Cole said.

  Declan and Cole trailed after Gino, leaving the women alone.

  The women’s eyes followed the men. The second they were out of earshot, Anna turned to Marlee. “What the heck is going on?”

  Marlee didn’t pretend not to know what Anna was talking about. She slouched back against the padded booth, letting her head rest on the back of the seat. “I don’t know? I…I…I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, but her mind was filled with images of Declan, so she quickly opened them again.

  “He’s all over you. Declan Tate is all over you,” Anna exclaimed. “I mean, I could see it even at his house, the way the two of you couldn’t take your eyes off each other, as if you were eating each other up.”

  Marlee had a flash of her mouth fused to Declan’s, and she let out a groan. “I know. It was so weird, Anna, I can’t explain it. And when he shook my hand…” Marlee raised the hand in question to look at it, as if to show Anna the brand that Declan had left on her.

  Across the restaurant, she saw Declan coming out of the kitchen. He started on his way back but was waylaid by nearly every table. The men jumping out of their seats to shake his hand. Declan was polite, stopping and chatting with each group. He met Marlee’s eyes and shrugged in an apologetic way.

  A memory from two years ago played in her mind, and the truth of her current situation came crashing down on Marlee. “But then I realized he’s a football player,” she said, almost to herself.

  “Well, of course he’s a football player. So what?” Anna asked incredulously. “So is Cole.”

  Marlee shrugged. “There’s no future in it. At least not for me.”

  Anna was quiet, then softly said, “I know you were really burned by a jock before, Marlee. And I know you’re looking for a future at this point in your life. But…”

  Marlee looked away from watching Declan and to Anna. “But what?”

  “But maybe you can postpone your future for a night,” Anna gently said.

  “You mean a one-night stand?”

  “One night. Two nights. A couple of weeks.”

  “It wouldn’t be a couple of weeks, anyway. I leave next week for my meetings in DC, remember?”

  Anna’s face lit up. “All the better. You can have a one-week fling and then go to DC and wow them on the Hill. When you come back you can start looking for Mr. Right. But my God, Marlee, is there a better Mr. Right Now than Declan Tate?”

  Marlee chuckled at her friend’s insistence. “Anna, I don’t do flings.”

  Anna’s smile dropped. “Maybe it’s time you did.”

  “What do you know about him, Anna? Besides his football stats.”

  Anna thought for a moment. “You know, not much, really. His reputation is one for all business when it comes to football. He doesn’t do any endorsements. You never read about him dating an actress or a supermodel. In fact, you don’t read much about his personal life period. He keeps a pretty low profile. The Tate temper is famous, but only on the field.

  “Cole played with him a while ago, and they keep in touch, but I don’t know that Declan has lots of friends. I get the impression from Cole that during the season Declan keeps pretty much to himself.”

  Remembering all those women in Declan’s home made Marlee question that last bit of information. Remembering how those women looked and how young they were made Marlee question her sanity at even considering Anna’s suggestion of a fling.

  As Declan finally made his way past the throng of admirers, Anna said softly, “Think about it, Marlee—when would you ever have this chance again? And let me just add…sex with a pro athlete? All that stamina and muscle? Unbelievable.”

  Marlee knew that firsthand. She just wasn’t sure she was strong enough to again go through all the bullshit that went with it.

  Chapter Three

  Marlee’s and Anna’s voices abruptly dropped off as Declan was finally able to get to the table. It was obvious they’d been talking about him. His gut clenched for a moment as he wondered what the verdict was. He turned to Marlee with a raised, questioning brow. “And what did you ladies find to talk about?”

  Cole got back to the table at the same time, and the men both sat down. He’d run his own semi-gauntlet of fans, but wasn’t as recognizable in Boston as Declan was. Declan scooted close to Marlee; Cole did the same on the other side of the table to be near Anna. He draped his large arm over his petite wife, who snuggled into his side, giving Declan a small pang of envy.

  “Oh, nothing much,” Marlee said, but then a small smile lit her face and she bowed her head to keep Declan from noticing.

  But he noticed. She didn’t want to like him. She had something against him, but damn if she didn’t like when he touched her. To prove his point, he once again took her hand, and placed both his and her entwined hands on his thigh. He moved them gently back and forth, not sure if he was doing so to excite Marlee or himself. Did it matter? His thigh, solid muscle from years of work
outs, nearly liquefied as her hand, albeit with his guidance, lightly stroked.

  Thankfully, the fine linen tablecloths went all the way to the floor. Declan said a silent hallelujah and began caressing Marlee’s hand, beginning with the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger. Her fingers were long and elegant. So were his, he knew, all the better to wrap around a football. What would Marlee’s digits be best wrapped around? Declan nearly choked on his ice water at the thought.

  Marlee was quiet for a moment. It looked like she was silently contemplating something, her brows furrowed as if solving a problem. That must have been it, because she suddenly straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Decision made. But what had she been deciding?

  She stroked her free hand up Declan’s arm, turning her body into his, while she squeezed his hand that joined hers. Her cat-green eyes looked into his, so deep, so crystal clear he felt as though she could look through him. She locked them with his and simply said, “Yes.”

  Declan was mesmerized by her eyes, and it took him a moment to realize what she’d said. It took him a couple of seconds longer to deduce what Marlee was talking about. She was saying yes to him, wasn’t she? Yes to them. Yes to being with him, getting under the sheets, getting under him, and getting down to business. Declan flashed her his trademark smile—the one he flashed when he’d just come back from ten points down with four minutes left to win the game—and leaned forward to kiss her.

  He was interrupted by Cole, who, until this time, had his head stuck behind a menu, oblivious to Declan’s and Marlee’s deep gazes. “Yes what, Marlee? What was the question? I missed it.”

  Declan smiled at Marlee with regret that his proposed kiss had been cut short and turned to Cole, but had no intention of explaining. How could he explain something to Cole he didn’t understand himself? Plus, after Cole’s warning, he wasn’t sure his buddy would be as happy about Marlee’s answer as Declan was. “It was something I asked Marlee, Cole, and I got the answer I wanted.”