Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  I look around anxiously to see if anyone is listening. “You’ve completely broken me, Mr. McGuire. I can no longer function without you. It’s entirely your own fault.”

  “I will gladly take credit for that, my love.” He places a soft kiss on the top of my head just as our waitress, Lindsay, comes to take our dinner order.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you might be hungry after the game today, Evan. Do you know what you want or do you need more time?” Lindsay asks.

  Evan releases my hand and grabs a menu. He quickly rattles off three different entrees, and none of them are meant for me. During football season, I am amazed by the amount of calories this man can pack away. I request an avocado and tomato panini, and Lindsay rushes off to get our order started.

  Before long, Emmy hurries to our table to congratulate Evan on his win today. She fawns all over him, gushing with pride and joy. When she asks Evan if he would like anything special from the bar, I jump in before he can even answer.

  “Evan and I would love to do a shot of Black and Gold. Bring back three – you can do a shot with us,” I tell her.

  Evan’s about to interrupt, but I kick him under the table, stifling his destruction of my evil plot. Once Emmy is clearly out of hearing range, Evan asks, “Okay, now what the hell was that all about? I haven’t eaten anything all day. Drinking on an empty stomach is a bad idea, Juliette. I’m driving you home, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Just go along with it. I’ll explain it to you later, I promise.” I bring my lips up to his ear and breathe, “Please.” Once I nibble on his ear and give it a playful flick of my tongue, I know I’ve got him. He closes his eyes as I make my way down his neck, nibbling and tasting.

  When I stop, he looks at me and nods. “A little more of that, and you could get me to agree to just about anything, Running Girl.”

  I look up and find Derek heading toward our table with a serving tray holding three shots. He places them in front of us and holds out his hand to Evan. “Nice game, Mac. That was a perfect game, man. You made it look easy out there.”

  “Yeah, but we both know there’s nothing easy about professional football.” Evan looks down and sees three shots sitting there. He hands one to Derek and offers, “Do a shot with us,” as he hands me the other glass.

  I shoot Evan one of my “if looks could kill” expressions, and he knows immediately he’s done something wrong. But from the look on his face, I know he has no idea what unspoken rule he’s violated.

  I hold up my glass and offer a quick toast. “To another Sentinels victory and another step closer to the playoffs.” We clink glasses and place the empties back on Derek’s platter.

  The moment he leaves, Evan insists on an explanation. I describe the test I found and how I’m trying to figure out if one of our friends is pregnant.

  “So you thought that rather than come right out and ask her, you’d be sneaky and gather meaningless clues to solve a puzzle?” He shoots me a very judgmental look. “So, Sherlock, are you any closer to solving the case?”

  “Not really,” I reluctantly admit. I’ll have to put everyone to the test. Thanksgiving is just a few days away, and we’ll find out soon enough.

  I love Mondays. Evan is usually off the day after a game, especially after they have a big win like yesterday. The restaurant is closed, so we’re free to spend the entire day together.

  Evan sits on the couch, watching Sports Center recaps from yesterday’s games while I finish cleaning up from breakfast. Holy cow, that boy can put away some food! It amazes me he’s not the size of a sumo wrestler.

  He looks ravishing just sitting there. His wavy hair is still damp from his shower and it’s falling in clumps around his beautiful face. I want to consume him.

  When I’ve finished cleaning, I stand behind him, gently rubbing his broad shoulders. The moment my hands begin kneading his sore muscles, he hunches over just enough to grant me better access to his back and neck.

  I love hearing the sounds of pleasure leave his mouth. I know I would do absolutely anything to get him to make those sounds every day of our lives.

  Evan slowly raises his head and I respond by running my nails along his scalp and playing with his waves, pulling and twisting with just the right amount of pressure. I can feel the tension leaving his body with every squeeze.

  “So, Evan,” I begin, “do you know what you want to do today?”

  “Nuh-uh,” he mumbles.

  “It’s still raining,” I remind him as I focus on his neck muscles. “Want to see a movie?”

  “Nuh-uh,” he repeats.

  “Okay, how about bowling or the aquarium?” I ask.

  “Nuh-uh,” he groans.

  After the third grunt, I stop my massage. “Come on, Chief. Give me something to work with here. What do you want to do today? How about a museum?”

  Evan turns around and looks at me suspiciously. “Seriously, Juliette? A museum? No way. The only kind of art I have any interest in is photography – you know, the kind you might see in National Geographic. Find me a photography exhibit like that, and you’ve got a deal.”

  “I wasn’t talking about MoMA or the Met. I thought we could have fun at the American Museum of Natural History – you know, dinosaurs and cavemen. I haven’t been there since I was a kid.” I can see Evan’s wheels turning, considering my suggestion.

  “They have a planetarium, right?”

  “Sure, the Hayden Planetarium. It’s kinda famous.”

  “I’ll go, but on one condition,” he warns. There’s a twinkle in his eye, and that’s usually a good sign. “Only if we can make out in the planetarium.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, but I think I could live with that.” Suddenly I’m getting excited. My mother used to take my friends and me to the museum all the time when I was little. Every time we went to the Hall of Ocean Life, I would get freaked out walking beneath the gigantic blue whale suspended from the ceiling.

  My momentary enthusiasm is squelched by reality. Whenever Evan and I go out in public, we have to be very careful about causing a scene. We’ve been accosted by enthusiastic fans and paparazzi in bars and restaurants many times, and it’s something we have learned to live with. Since he became the starting quarterback, the attention has only gotten worse.

  “Evan, should we call the museum and warn them we’re coming? They may want to ramp up their security,” I suggest.

  “Already on it,” Evan answers as he runs through the contacts on his phone. “I’m going to get us access to private parking too.”

  I turn to head into the shower. Once I’m halfway down the hallway, Evan calls to me, “Baby, should I make dinner reservations too?”

  “Yes, please,” I call back in return. “Find us someplace off the beaten track. Somewhere quiet, okay?”

  “Got it!” he hollers to me.

  I plug my iPhone into the wall docking station that Evan had installed in our renovated bathroom. Originally we weren’t going to make any changes to our love nest, but as the interior designer suggested updates and upgrades, we agreed to most of them. One of my favorite changes is the heated bathroom floor. With the push of a button, the slate tiles beneath my feet begin to radiate warmth.

  There are a few other changes too. The shower has been moved to the opposite wall and away from the window that looks out onto the breaking ocean. That small change gives Evan peace of mind that our intimate moments are not on public display. I don’t mind, really. The glass doors on the shower give just enough privacy, but maintain a direct view of the oceanfront vista.

  As my favorite playlist shuffles through songs, I find it easy to lose track of time under the rainfall showerhead and massaging pulsating wall sprayers. When the fifth song ends, I decide I’ve been in the shower long enough. I’ve stayed a little longer than I needed to, mostly because I was waiting to see if Evan would join me. Not this time.

  Wrapping myself in a towel, I slink into the living room to see what Evan’s up to. He rarely l
ets me have a twenty-minute-long shower uninterrupted.

  Evan is still on the phone, oblivious to my emergence from the bathroom. He’s speaking in hushed tones, so it’s difficult to make out exactly what he’s discussing. I can make out a few words like “private”, “restricted”, and “discharged”. I’m clueless. What could he be planning for us? Then I hear him clearly telling the person on the other end of the line, “I don’t want her finding out. Are we clear?”

  When I hear that, I tiptoe away undetected. He’s obviously discussing something he doesn’t want me to know about. I step into our huge walk-in closet and take a seat on the round upholstered bench inside. Should I be excited or worried? I like the sound of going someplace with Evan that’s private and restricted. It sounds exactly like what I had in mind. But what does “discharged” mean? And why doesn’t he want me to know?

  I shake the worry from my mind. It might not have anything to do with me at all. Evan has been nothing but sweet, romantic, and thoughtful. He’s given me no reason to doubt him whatsoever. If he wants me to know what’s going on, he’ll tell me. Otherwise, I’ll have to trust that the relationship we’ve both worked so hard to manage and maintain is as solid as ever.

  When I emerge from our room, I notice that the rain has momentarily stopped and Evan is outside with Maddy, throwing around a Frisbee. Evan’s phone is sitting on the kitchen counter. My hand is itching to grab it and check his recent calls. It would be so easy. But it would also be so wrong. I’m warring with my own conscience. I have no reason not to trust him, but I’m so damn curious it’s killing me.

  My resolve begins to weaken. I look out the window, and Evan is still playing with Maddy, showing no sign of coming back inside anytime soon. Cautiously, I pick up the phone and hold it in my hand. I swipe the screen, type the passcode, and stare. I decide to look. My imagination will bother me all day and I’m quite certain there’s nothing incriminating to be found.

  Just as I’m about to check the call log, the phone rings in my hand. Adam’s name pops up, stopping me from snooping.

  I answer the phone cheerfully. “Hey Sparky, what’s up?” I started called Adam “Sparky” after he helped me to escape from my burning house, just like in the story of Sparky the Fire Dog we learned in elementary school. He hates it, which makes me like it even more.

  “Hey, Jette. I’m calling you guys with another wedding offer. Celebrity News Network just made an offer of one and a half million dollars to televise the wedding live on their channel. It’s the biggest offer so far. What do you want me to tell them?” he asks.

  This is the third offer we’ve gotten. TMZ and E! both made offers that we quickly turned down without a second thought. “Give them the same response we prepared for the others. I’m not turning my wedding into a three-ring circus.”

  “I had a feeling you’d say that. It’s a lot of money to turn down, though. I just want to make sure before I respond.” I can hear him tapping away on a keyboard, probably drafting our response.

  Before he hangs up, I decide to dig for a little dirt. “So, Sparky, is anything new? What do you and Emmy have planned for today?” Maybe he’ll let something slip.

  “Emmy and Reese are going shopping, their usual Monday routine. Marcus is coming over to watch last night’s Knicks game. You know – same shit, different day.” He sounds bored with the conversation. I don’t think he’s hiding anything.

  Evan slides open the door and Maddy comes barreling in, heading straight for her water bowl. He mouths to me, “Who is it?” and I silently answer, “Adam.” He shrugs his shoulders and taps on his watch, telling me we’re losing time.

  “Listen, Adam, Evan’s done and I think he wants to leave. I’ll tell him you called.”

  “No problem, Jette. Have fun at the museum. Bring me back some Astronaut Ice Cream,” he chuckles as he hangs up the phone.

  “What did Adam want?” Evan asks as he finishes off a bottle of water.

  “Well, we got another offer to get married on TV,” I tell him.

  “How much this time?” Evan asks.

  “One point five mil,” I tell him.

  He cocks an eyebrow at me and asks, “What did you tell him?”

  “What did you want me to tell him?” I ask.

  “Juliette, there’s no way in hell I’m getting married on national television. It’s bad enough that they show me in the locker room barely out of the shower – I will not have them broadcasting us making our wedding vows. I hope you told him no.” He looks at me with a cautionary expression.

  “I did.” He looks immediately relieved. “Did you tell Adam we were going to the museum today? He asked me to bring back some of that silly Astronaut Ice Cream.”

  He nods. “I called him while you were in the shower. He has contacts in their security department.”

  “Oh yeah, security.” When I originally suggested a trip to the museum, I was thinking that we were normal people making normal plans. On a chilly, rainy day, going to the museum seemed like a great idea. But now that I stop and think about it, there’s nothing simple about an NFL quarterback going to a public place in the middle of football season. Now the museum will probably need to call in additional security, all because I’m bored.

  “Evan, we don’t have to go. We can always rent a movie and stay in all day. It might not be such a good idea to drag you through a crowded museum right now. I wouldn’t mind.”

  Evan is now standing directly in front of me. He takes my chin in his hand and tilts my head up to look at him. He looks at me with such devotion, it makes me feel even worse for having suggested he put himself on display for my entertainment.

  “We are not going to stop living our lives just because it may get a little complicated. My life will always be complicated, as long as I’m in the NFL. This is what you signed up for when you agreed to become my wife. We’re not going to hide – got it?”

  I can’t help but smile, mostly because he’s right. We can’t hide just because things aren’t simple. Life with Evan is many things, but simple and easy are not among them. “Got it,” I agree.

  “Good. Then let’s get that adorable ass of yours in the car so we can go. We have one stop to make along the way, so let’s hustle.”

  I stretch up on my tiptoes to kiss him before I ask, “Can I ask where we’re stopping, or is it a secret?”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it would be fun to bring another girl on our date.” I shoot him a look of warning. He had better be kidding. “She’s never been to the museum before and I want to see her face light up when she sees her first dinosaur.”

  “This date of yours, she wouldn’t happen to be in preschool, would she?” I ask.

  “Not today she’s not. I called my sister Callie and asked her if we could take Regan with us. She agreed, but we have to take your Kia and Regan’s car seat.” He looks at me for approval. “I hope that’s okay.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck. “It sounds perfect. Let’s go – she’s waited long enough to go on a date with her Uncle Evan.”

  “And her Aunt Juliette,” Evan corrects me. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I didn’t think I’d ever be lucky enough to have anyone call me Aunt. I like the way it sounds. Another gift Evan has given me – a family. If he never gives me anything else but this, I will have lived a full and rich life.

  Chapter Four

  Causing a Stir

  We park our car in the restricted lot and Evan escorts us to the main entrance. We find ourselves in the Theodore Franklin Rotunda, standing beneath the skeleton of a barosaurus, its long neck stretching nearly the length of the room. Little Regan holds tightly to Evan’s leg, unwilling to venture too close to the colossal display.

  I’ve seen four security guards since our arrival. I have no doubt they are here because of our visit. Evan convinced me to see things from a different perspective. The need for additional security has given these employees an opportunity to earn some overtime pay. Since Christmas se
ason will officially begin with Black Friday in just a few days, they may be grateful for our visit rather than inconvenienced by it.

  I urge Evan to move on to another display – the longer we stay in one place, the more likely it is that someone will recognize him – but he tells me he’s waiting for something. Fortunately, it’s a Monday during the school year, so the museum is not very crowded today.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a young man in his mid-thirties heading straight toward us. My initial reaction is to brace for an enthusiastic greeting from a football fan. But as his image becomes clearer, I notice his suit jacket, bow tie, and the museum credentials pinned to his lapel. His nametag identifies him as Hugh, and he is all smiles as he approaches our small group. He holds out his hand to Evan first, “Mr. McGuire,” then to me, “Miss Fletcher,” and even offers a hand to Regan, “Miss Warren”. Not surprisingly, Regan disappears behind Evan’s hulking body. Hugh just gives her a friendly pat on the head, looks up at Evan and me and asks, “Ready to start your tour?”

  I look quizzically at Evan. “When I called for additional security, they insisted on a private tour. I thought it might be nice,” Evan explains. I should have known. Nothing with Evan is ever uncomplicated.

  Hugh takes us through a set of doors and right into the Hall of African Mammals. In the center of the room is a freestanding group of elephants. Regan is beyond excited. She races toward the benches that surround the display and tries to climb up, getting up-close and personal with the majestic creatures. Evan is quick to react, and he reaches little Regan before she gets too far. He holds her up close to the elephants as Hugh tells us about the exhibit.

  Regan finally notices the other twenty-eight dioramas surrounding us. She joyfully bops around, hopping from display to display, calling out the names of the animals as she sees them – lions, gorillas, ostriches (which she calls “big birds”). She stops dead in her tracks when she gets to the water hole diorama. “Auntie Jette, come see the zee-ba wif me!” she chirps, dragging me by the hand toward the glass case. Evan and Hugh have no choice but to follow dutifully and listen as Regan points out the giraffe, “funny monkeys” (baboons), and more elephants. Seeing these animals through the eyes of a child is an experience like no other. No wonder my mother was willing to come here so often.