Game On (24 page)

Roscoe sat rocking in the wooden rocker Shane’s grandfather had made for his grandmother.

“What do you think is so goddamned funny?” Shane asked as he reached the shade of the porch.

“Oh, I’m just marveling at genetics. I mean, it fascinates me that the two of you could grow up in completely different ways, yet still have personalities so similar.” Roscoe chuckled. “The kid definitely has a set of Devlin balls.”

With a snarl at his lawyer, Shane pushed through the screen doors, headed for the liquor cabinet. Digging in the back, he pulled out a dusty bottle of Scotch.

“Hey,” Roscoe said from behind him. “I thought we weren’t going to open that until you won the Super Bowl?”

“According to you, that’s never going to happen,” Shane said as he twisted off the cap and splashed a liberal amount into a glass.

“Devlin, don’t be an asshole,” Roscoe said, taking a seat on the sofa. “You pay me to watch your back. You know as well as I do a fling with the coach’s sister-in-law is not the best idea if you want to make the team. Especially a team as morally out there as the Blaze. You say you wanna play football, break your father’s records, and win a Super Bowl. You can’t do that while messing around with the princess of the tabloids.”

“Do you really want me to hit you?” Shane’s voice resonated through the open room.

Roscoe laughed. “Dude, I’m feeling a little sorry for you right now, so I might let you have the first punch.”

Before Shane could reach him, Tiffany hissed at them from the balcony above.

“That’s enough, you two. Stop behaving like the twins. Who, by the way, I am trying to get to sleep. If you want to act like kindergartners, go outside and roll around in the dirt with the dog.” She disappeared into one of the bedrooms. The sounds of the twins wrestling faded as she closed the door.

“It still turns me on when she bosses me around like that,” Roscoe joked as he stepped around Shane to pour his own glass of Scotch. “I do owe you a free hit, though.”

“What are you talking about?” Shane asked, wiping spilled Scotch off his hand.

“You don’t remember?” Roscoe slid down into one of the overstuffed chairs beside the hearth. “I gave you a shiner the day I told you I was going to ask Tif to marry me. You deserved it, by the way.”

Making his way to the opposite chair, Shane sat, trying to recall the exact events of that day. They’d been sailing, he, Roscoe, Tiffany, and some aspiring starlet whose name he couldn’t remember. It was late afternoon and they’d just docked in the marina. Roscoe, a little wasted from a day of drinking in the sun, told him that he planned on marrying Tiffany in a Vegas ceremony later that night.

Shane was just trying to protect his friend when he suggested Roscoe give it a day or two. After all, she was a no-name model who he’d known for less than a week. At least, the conversation had gone something like that. Obviously, Shane might have added a little more graphic detail and colorful language because before he knew it, Roscoe laid him out flat on the wooden decking of the boat dock.

“Nah, I don’t remember,” he lied.

Roscoe gave a disbelieving snort. “You said I couldn’t possibly fall in love with a woman in one week. As if you were an expert on love. Hell, judging by events today, you wouldn’t know love it came up and bit you on the ass.” He held a hand up as Shane balled his own hand into a fist. “All I’m saying is I love my wife more today than I did eight years ago. I can’t explain it and I can’t deny what it is. Maybe you have feelings for Darling Carly—”

“I don’t,” Shane interrupted him, desperately wanting this conversation to end.

“Yeah, like you’d know if you did. You’re so busy shoving any feelings you have down that black hole where your heart is supposed to be. Jesus, Shane, that kid made
me
want to cry today. You can’t possibly say you don’t feel anything.”

Shane glared at him. He didn’t want to think about or discuss his feelings with anyone.

“No, of course not,” Roscoe went on. “Because that would interfere with your grandiose plan to knock your father’s name out of the record books. You do realize your old man is dead? He’s not going to notice whether his records are broken by you or not. This obsession of yours is consuming you. One day you’re going to wake up and wonder where your life went.”

Abruptly, Shane stood, sloshing more Scotch on to his hand. He didn’t have to listen to this. Picking up the bottle, he walked toward his office behind the kitchen.

“Don’t drink all that,” Roscoe called after him. “If you get too drunk, we’ll be stuck eating Tiffany’s tuna casserole for dinner.”

“Great,” Shane mumbled. He was well aware Roscoe didn’t marry the voluptuous model for her culinary skills. “Beckett,” he called out the screen door. “Come in the house. They’re not coming back.” The dog lifted his head to look down the road before laying it back down with a huff. “Suit yourself,” Shane muttered as he entered the office he’d been using to study game films.

Placing the bottle on his grandfather’s antique desk, he sat in the leather chair behind it and pulled out the bottom drawer. Inside was a steel strongbox. Shane placed it on the desk along with his glass.
Jeez, this day was a mess
. His body was sitting in the office, but he felt like his insides were lying in pieces on the gravel drive. Slowly, he opened the strongbox. Inside were old photos, report cards, and newspaper clippings. Things his grandmother had collected for him throughout the years.

Gently, he placed on the desk a picture of him on his first day of school with his mother, a sad smile on her face. Most of the photos in the box were of him and his mother. Digging down to the bottom, he found the one he was looking for. A photo of a laughing three-year-old perched on his father’s shoulders. Bruce’s eyes were obscured by a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses, but his smile was a happy one. The smile on Shane’s face looked eerily like Troy’s.

Could Shane have been wrong about his father after all these years? The man in the photo was barely twenty-four. Bruce had been thirty-one when his wife died. The same age as Shane was now. Yet his father had always seemed so much older to him. Taking a swallow of Scotch, he felt it burn the whole way down. At least he was beginning to feel again. Perhaps that might not be a good idea.

Tossing the photo back into the box, he pulled out a worn manila envelope. Carefully, he dumped the contents onto the desktop. A rainbow of crayoned artwork and invitations fluttered out. He picked up a worn paper decorated in red and green glitter and read the letter scrawled in red marker:

Mom says if I pray real hard, you’ll come for Chrismas. I asked Santa to bring you in his sled. Please come!

It was signed in big letters: TROY. Shane looked at the pile of birthday invitations and cards his brother had sent him over the years. Had Troy spent his birthdays and holidays waiting for him? Just like Shane had done all those years with Bruce?
He tried to swallow the lump that sat like a boulder in his throat. Cradling his head in trembling hands, Shane tried to figure out how he could have gotten everything so terribly wrong.

Twenty-one

Carly walked along the lengthy deck crossing the
dunes between the beach house and the gazebo facing the Atlantic Ocean. The laughter of children mingled with the sounds of gulls and the rough surf. She handed Lisa a glass of lemonade, then plopped down on the wooden bench opposite her, the ocean breeze blowing her hair around her face.

“I’m used to the harem of girls materializing around C.J. each day, but I wasn’t expecting the group of boys that seemed to have found their way to this end of the beach,” Carly said before taking a swallow of her drink.

Glancing down at the beach, Lisa saw the familiar bikini-clad teenage girls angling for her son’s attention, but she looked surprised by the four teenage boys bantering with Emma. “Good God,” she said. “Matt is going to blow a gasket when he gets wind of this.”

Carly chuckled softly and looked farther toward the shore to where Molly was busy burying Troy in the wet sand. “The resiliency of children never ceases to amaze me,” she said.

Lisa followed her gaze to the younger children. Matt and her sister had been concerned when Carly arrived at midnight three nights ago with Troy asleep in the car, his eyes still puffy and his cheeks tearstained. Both were relieved she’d weathered the whole mess with Joel Tompkins. But aside from that, thankfully they hadn’t pried too much.

Carly told them about Shane’s decision to send Troy away to boarding school. Troy was remarkably hardy and, despite the sudden loss of his parents nearly three weeks before, he seemed happy and content to be absorbed into the Richardson family. All three kids were enjoying spending their evenings exploring potential boarding schools on the Internet, picking ones in the most exotic locations so they could go visit Troy throughout the year.

Carly’s heart broke each night as she listened to the boy’s muffled sobs as he went to sleep, though. But he seemed to be facing life a little better during the days. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same for herself. She was angry at herself for losing her heart to Shane. Her eyes had been wide open and he’d never promised anything more than he’d given her. Carly still thought he was capable of more, but she couldn’t fight that battle any longer. Not if she wanted to stay whole.

“You’d never know what he’d been through these last weeks,” Carly said, her eyes still focused on Troy.

“You had a lot to do with helping him cope with his grief,” Lisa said.

A wistful smile formed on Carly’s mouth before she took another sip of lemonade. “Yeah, well, I was just doing what I could to help out,” she said quietly. “He hasn’t exactly got anyone else.”

Leaning forward on the bench, Lisa took Carly’s hand. “Legally, he does. Shane is coming to get him tomorrow.”

Carly was startled by the information, nearly dumping her drink down the front of her.

“I just got off the phone with him. Apparently, he wants to be involved in Troy’s life.”

Damn her sister for being so perceptive. Lisa didn’t need to pry because she’d already guessed Carly’s feelings. She knew the news would shock Carly.

It was more than shock rolling through Carly, however. It was a stinging sensation somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.
Shane is going to make a real attempt at a relationship with Troy!
The idea should make her ecstatic. For Troy, at least. And it did. A little. But her selfish side couldn’t help but be hurt that Shane didn’t have enough love to go around to make a go of it with Carly.

“That’s wonderful,” Carly said. And she meant it. She really did. “Remind me to be somewhere else when he breaks that news to Troy.” It was a strain to keep the pain from her voice, but her sister would pounce at any show of vulnerability. “As a matter of fact”—Carly wiped at the droplets of condensation that had dripped from the glass onto her bare thigh—“I probably should head up to New York for a few days. I promised Julianne I’d come visit.”

“You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I’m not avoiding Shane or anyone else,” Carly said, swinging her legs up on the bench. “I just don’t want to be in the middle of this anymore.”

“Carly,” Lisa said, reaching across to touch her sister’s leg. “It isn’t the end of the world if you fell in love with Shane.”

Carly whirled on her, swatting away a tear from her face. “Says you!”
So much for hiding my vulnerability from my sister
.

“Oh, honey,” Lisa said.

“Don’t you dare psychoanalyze me!” Carly sobbed, glad for the strong breeze that carried their conversation away from the kids playing, oblivious on the beach. “I know I was stupid for falling for him. I know I shouldn’t have done it. But I did it anyway.”

“Honey, you can’t always decide who you’re going to fall in love with,” Lisa said, using her soothing but annoying therapist’s voice. “Life doesn’t always work the way we want it to.”

“No? Well, at least I should have known better. I’ve made the stupid mistake twice now!”

Moving over to the bench where Carly sat, Lisa draped an arm around her shoulders. “Stop it. You’re going to make mistakes in life. Everyone does. It’s part of living. Your mom made mistakes. God knows our father made mistakes. They made one big one that I’m thankful for every day. But their mistake isn’t your fault. Your life has a purpose. I’m a walking testament to that.” Lisa reached up to wipe her sister’s eyes as her own tears streamed down her face. “But that’s not the reason I love you so much. I love you because you are my sister. The only one I’ve got. And I’ll love you whatever mistakes you make. So will Matt and the kids. Because that’s what we do.”

“You’re right, Doc,” she teased, reaching to brush her thumbs over the tears on Lisa’s cheeks. “I know I have to take risks to find that one special someone. Going into it, I knew Shane could never be that guy. And it turned out exactly like I thought it would. Fortunately, without the paparazzi feeding frenzy this time,” she said with smile. “I guess I’m just disappointed because, at times, I saw glimpses of a Shane who might be capable of more. Only I don’t think he knows he has it in him. He’s spent his whole life not counting on anyone for love and acceptance. He doesn’t know how to give it in return. And it hurts me to see him so alone.”

Lisa smiled with pride at her sister. “You could always give it a shot and see what happens.”

Shaking her head, Carly looked toward the shoreline where Troy and the other kids were playing football. “No, I think Shane had best concentrate all his efforts on Troy. He might not have it in him for two relationships.” She grinned. “Besides, I don’t think I could handle getting in any deeper. If it hurts this much now, I can’t imagine what the pain might be in the future. You can call me a coward, but I like to believe I’m being a realist. Besides, I’m holding out for an accountant or a podiatrist, remember?”

“
Coward
is not a word I would ever associate with you,” Lisa said as she took Carly’s face in her palms. “You’re the bravest woman I know.”

“Yeah, well, this brave woman is heading to New York before Shane arrives, just the same.”

* * *

The ocean breeze felt good on Shane’s face as
he climbed the stairs beneath the Richardsons’ beach house to the deck above. The morning was clear and warm, promising to be the perfect summer day. Beckett hesitated at the top of the stairs, briefly contemplating exploring the interior of the house before the sounds of kids laughing caught his attention. With a bark, he bounded down the long deck leading over the dunes to the shoreline. Moments later, Shane heard the squeals of Beckett’s name as the dog found his way to the sand. He listened carefully for Troy or Carly’s voices, but he couldn’t make them out in the breeze.

“Devlin.”

Shane turned to find the coach standing in the doorway behind him. His chest bare, he wore a pair of board shorts and flip-flops, a Blaze ball cap on his head.

“Coach.” He hadn’t been looking forward to confronting Troy or Carly, but from the looks of it he should have worried a little about Matt Richardson, too.

Sliding the door closed behind him, the coach walked over to the railing and picked up a can of spray-on sunscreen from a bucket there. Letting the silence stretch, he sprayed his torso and then his long legs before turning the can on his feet.

Shane decided it was best to plunge right in. “I appreciate . . .” It was a bad decision.

“No, Devlin, I don’t think you
appreciate
anything,” the coach said, slamming the can back into the bucket. “You sure as hell don’t appreciate what it means to be a part of a family or to have someone depending on you. You’d better start learning what it is to appreciate folks—especially your teammates, because I don’t have room for a quarterback who’s only thinking about himself. I don’t have to respect you to have you lead my football team, but you’d better respect your teammates or you’ll be wearing a headset and holding a clipboard all season. Lisa says you’re here to make it right with Troy.” He laughed bitterly. “Well, don’t expect it to go easy with him. We didn’t tell him you were coming, but he’s figured it out now.” He gestured to the beach where Beckett had cut Troy from the herd of kids playing and the pair was heading away from the beach house. “You’re gonna have to catch him first.”

“Shit,” Shane swore as he headed along the deck toward the beach.

“And Devlin,” the coach said from where he followed closely behind him. Shane was forced to stop so he could turn and face him. He got right into Shane’s face. “While I
appreciate
everything you’ve done to help with Tompkins, whatever is going on with you and Carly is over. Do I make myself clear?”

Shane would wager his last jock strap Carly hadn’t given Matt Richardson specifics about their affair. But a guy like Richardson didn’t need to be told anything. His instincts on and off the field were legendary. “Clear,” Shane said through clenched teeth before turning to jog after Troy. If he didn’t hurry, boy and dog would be halfway to New Jersey by now.

* * *

The mid-morning sun made the sand hot beneath
Troy’s feet. He walked over to the shoreline, joining Beckett as the dog romped through the water. Man, he was glad to see Beckett. Panting, the dog trotted along faithfully beside Troy as he walked away from the beach house.

His butthead brother was a different story. Carly must have known he was coming because she took off for New York earlier that morning. With a fierce hug for Troy, she’d told him to call her every day, and they’d both cried as she left. But now he was mad at her because she’d left him alone to face the butthead.

Man, it was hot. He should have grabbed a bottle of water before he’d taken off. Or some money, he realized as he passed a vendor selling ice cream from a cart he pushed down the beach. Beckett gave a happy woof and Troy looked behind him. The butthead was gaining on them with his stupid long legs. Shane stopped to buy a bottle of water from the ice cream cart. Troy’s mouth got drier as he waded farther into the surf.

“You gonna try and swim away from me?” Shane called from behind him. Beckett galloped off to run in circles around Shane’s legs. Gulping from a bottle of water, he held one up to Troy. “It’s hot out here. Aren’t you thirsty?”

Yeah, he was thirsty. But he would die before giving his brother the satisfaction.

“Come on, Troy, are you going to walk all the way to the Delaware Bridge?”

“Maybe,” Troy said as he turned on his brother. “She left because you were coming!” he yelled at him.

That stopped Shane in his tracks. “Who?” he asked.

“Carly,” Troy said, storming in his brother’s direction. Beckett danced between the two as if it were a game. “She went to New York this morning. Probably so she wouldn’t have to see you!”

Shane looked out across the ocean, his lips drawn in a grim line. Troy couldn’t make out the look in eyes behind his sunglasses.

“I’m sorry about that,” Shane said softly.

“Are you?” Troy yelled, running forward and grabbing the second bottle of water from Shane’s hand. “You were mean to her. You can be mean to me all you want, but you shouldn’t be mean to Carly.” The bottle’s cap was stuck and Troy couldn’t get the water open. Shane took the bottle, setting his on the sand and opening Troy’s with the hem of his shirt. Snatching the open bottle back, Troy guzzled the water.

“Easy,” Shane said. They both stood with their feet in the surf, facing each other. Beckett wandered off to chase a seagull.

“I picked a school,” Troy said, wiping his face with the cool water bottle.

“Did you?” His brother actually sounded interested.
Butthead.

“Yeah, it’s in Switzerland. C.J. said the girls would be really nice there.”

The butthead smiled behind his sunglasses. “Ahh. I hadn’t figured girls into the prerequisites for a decent school. But that’s really good thinking.”

“Carly promised to take me there. She’s going to Italy for the fall to work with her designer friend, so she’ll be close.”

“She’s left the team?”

“Yep. I heard her tell Coach and Lisa last night. She said it was just a courtesy position anyway. Now that Lisa is better, she didn’t need to be in Baltimore taking up an unnecessary job. So, she’s going to Italy.”

Troy watched as Shane turned to the ocean, running his hand over his jaw. Beckett dropped a piece of driftwood at his feet and Shane threw it for the dog. “Well, if this school in Switzerland is a safe place and a good school, I guess you can go there. But I have another option for you to consider.”

“I thought you said I could make my own choices,” he said accusingly. Troy wanted to be near Carly and now his butthead brother was going to ruin that, too.

“You can. I just have another option to put on the table.” Shane turned to face him. “I spoke with the headmaster at the school in Baltimore where C.J. and Emma go. He said there’s a spot in the sixth grade. But you’ll have to meet with them tomorrow to interview and take some tests.”

“Is it a boarding school?” Troy wasn’t going to allow himself to get his hopes up.

“No. That’s the one drawback. You’d have to live with me. I wouldn’t want you to come home to an empty house, so you might have to go to the Richardsons’ and stay with Penny some days. At least until Consuelo’s retirement papers come through from the university and she can live with us.”