Hill Country Hero (16 page)

Training camp was a rigorous two weeks designed to get the guys ready for the NFL season. The theory was if a man could do two full-pad practices a day in a Houston summer, he could play anywhere, under any circumstances.

With the exception of the weekends, the entire team was sequestered on the University of Houston campus, so CiCi hadn’t seen Jake in a couple of days. However, if she waited until evening she could get him on his cell.

Her call was about to go to voicemail when Jake answered. “What’s up?”

Not a very romantic greeting. “How are things?” Now that she had him on the phone, she didn’t know what to say.

“I’m too old for this stuff. I was just in the hot tub. Everything hurts.” Jake ended his gripe with a groan. “What’s up?”

“Daddy said you have tomorrow off. Why don’t we go out for a burger or something. I have something I want to tell you.”

“If you don’t mind me falling asleep at the table, I’m yours.” He tried, but couldn’t disguise a yawn.

CiCi had decided it was time to tell him that she loved him, and didn’t want to do it over the phone. “Pick me up around five?”

“You can count on it.”

C
I
C
I WAS WAITING
for J
AKE
the next day when the doorbell rang. Her sweetie was here and her family was gone—how much better could it get? She ran to the door, jerked it open and almost fainted. Instead of Jake it was Tank!

“What do you want?”

Tank pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back. “That isn’t very friendly.”

“No kidding.” CiCi braced her arms on the doorjamb.

“Can I come in?” He somehow managed to look contrite. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“I don’t think so. If you don’t mind, I’m really busy.” She made the tactical error of taking her eyes off him and before she knew what had happened he’d grabbed her and planted a big wet one on her mouth. What kind of wacky-tobacky had the guy been smoking?

J
AKE PULLED UP
in front of the Hurst residence and carefully lowered his creaking bones from the cab of the truck. A rental car was sitting in the driveway. He was wondering who was visiting when he noticed the front door ajar.

He pushed the door the rest of the way open only to see CiCi and her ex in a world-class lip-lock. It took Jake a few seconds to sort out exactly what he was seeing, and when he did he wished he hadn’t. The woman he loved was kissing Tank Tankersley. Had she been using him to make Tank jealous? Had her freak-out over that stupid picture been nothing more than a smoke screen?

Just the thought of it sent a surge of white-hot rage roaring through him. Jake took a deep breath, hoping he could get a handle on his temper.

He cleared his throat. “Why is Tankersley here?”

CiCi jerked back.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” She stepped away from her
ex. The big guy looked confused, but that wasn’t unusual; he was more brawn than brain.

“I’m her husband. What’s it to you?”

CiCi smacked Tank. “You’re not my husband!”

Jake ignored her. “I guess the question should be what are
you
doing here? Don’t the Packers have a training camp?”

Tank puffed up, not that he needed to—at six foot seven and three hundred and twenty-five pounds he was naturally intimidating. But that didn’t matter. Jake was half a second from doing the “come on, dude, let’s get with it” sign. Coach would have his butt if he had to go on the Injured Reserve list because of a fight. At the moment, Jake just didn’t care.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we finished our training yesterday. I came to talk to my wife.”

“Ex-wife. Ex!” CiCi exclaimed. She looked back and forth between the two men before she spoke. “Tank, it’s time for you to go.”

“We haven’t finished our business.”

CiCi put the mangled bouquet on the table. “Yes, we have. Go!” She pointed toward the door.

Tank made a show of resisting before giving in. “I’ll call you later.” He glared at Jake. “I’ll see you on the football field, hotshot.” He emphasized his pseudo-threat by slamming the door on his way out.

“Oh, Jake.” CiCi moved closer and put her hand on his chest. “I’m—”

Jake stepped away. He was trying to act casual so he leaned back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Were you trying to make him jealous?”

He had to give it to her, CiCi looked genuinely confused. “Are you saying that you think that I’ve been trying to get Tank back? Are you
nuts?
” She poked him.

Damn, she was strong.

“You bastard! How dare you come in here and accuse me of playing you.”

CiCi jabbed again. At this rate he was going to look like Swiss cheese, but he didn’t dare grab her hand. That was in Chapter One of the Smart Guy’s Book of Survival—don’t defend yourself, not unless a deadly weapon was involved. Although that finger—

“You know what your problem is? You’re an opinionated jerk. I want you out of here. Now.” She pointed toward the street.

“Gladly. I suppose I was just your summer fling, huh?” It was time to retreat and regroup. Jake was barely out of the house when she slammed the door so hard the globe on the front porch light fell off and shattered.

The following week was pure agony. CiCi had thought things were bad when she split with Tank, but their marriage had been a sham. This time her heart was caved in like a post-Halloween pumpkin.

She and Jake were equally responsible for this disaster, but if they couldn’t get past a simple misunderstanding, what chance did they have? Jake had jumped to an erroneous conclusion and that was a shame on him. But instead of discussing the problem like an adult, CiCi had wigged out. She didn’t do that very often, but when she did, it was Lizzie Borden bad.

She had to fix the situation, but how? She’d called him dozens of times but he’d never picked up. After a couple of drive-bys of his condo, CiCi decided she was turning into a stalker. Wouldn’t that make great headlines for the society page?

Nothing had worked—nothing—so until she came up with a foolproof plan, she’d simply wallow in her misery and eat chocolate. CiCi had just dug into a pint of double fudge Ben & Jerry’s when Mac breezed into the kitchen. Who invited her?

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“I screwed up.” CiCi had somehow managed to keep the
fight off the Hurst ladies’ radar screen but this was the perfect time to confide.

“What did you do?”

“I lost my cool again,” she confessed.

By that time Mama had joined the party. “We want facts.” She’d obviously heard CiCi’s comment.

“I asked Jake out to dinner. I needed to talk to him about something, but I wouldn’t say what. I was going to tell him that I loved him. But when he came by to pick me up, Tank was here.”

“Tank Tankersley was here? In my house?” Mama’s frown was scary.

“Yeah.”

“So?” Mac asked.

“So Tank was kissing me when Jake walked in.”

“Oh, boy!” Marianne exclaimed. “I can’t believe that jerk came here to molest you!”

“Jake got the wrong impression. He thought I’d used him to get Tank back.”

“Aw, jeeze.” Although Mac expressed the sentiment, it seemed to be universal.

“He’s jealous. That’s a good thing.” Marianne was an eternal optimist.

“He was furious. We haven’t spoken since.”

“Call him!” Mac should have been a camp commander. “I did.”

“Do it again.”

CiCi sighed. “I did, incessantly, and then I resorted to driving by his condo.” She was embarrassed to admit her stalker tactics.

“Oops.” Marianne grimaced. “Don’t worry. Things will work out.”

CiCi didn’t miss the look Mac and Mama shared. The Hurst women could be incredibly devious when they got focused.

I
T TOOK
Jake less than thirty seconds to realize he’d messed up and a week to try to figure out how to fix it. By now he’d procrastinated so long he was afraid it was beyond hope.

The Road Runners’ first exhibition game was scheduled for next Sunday and Coach was working them mercilessly. Jake had made it through “hell camp” without injury, and in the world of professional football that was worthy of at least three cheers.

Practice was over for the day. “What are you doing for dinner?” Jake asked Cole. He was almost as tired of his own conversation as he was of his cooking.

“I have a date, sorry, guy. Why don’t you call CiCi?”

Yeah, why didn’t he—could it be because he was a fool?

“We’re kind of on the outs.”

“Too bad.”

Yeah, it was too bad. To her credit, CiCi had called more than once and he’d been too chicken to respond. Or to be more specific, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she had to say.

Locker rooms were the same around the league—sweaty guys, trash talk, backslapping, raunchy jokes, congratulations and commiserations when team cuts were being made. Under other circumstances Jake would be in the middle of it all, but lately he hadn’t been feeling very social.

He was removing his pads when Coach Carruthers strolled up to him, clipboard in hand. Crap! Things on the field had been going so well, surely he hadn’t been cut. Even if he
was
on the outs with the owners baby girl.

“Hey, Culpepper. Have you been doing something I don’t know about?” Coach propped one foot on the bench in front of Jake’s locker.

Jake wiped his face with a towel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was safer to just play dumb.

“The big guy wants to see you.”

Jake assumed Coach meant Texas Bob, not God. But all things considered, God would probably be more sympathetic.

Jake pulled off his shirt. This wasn’t the time to panic. “Do you have any idea what he wants?”

“Nope, but if I were you, I’d grab a shower and get my butt up there, ASAP.” Coach was a wise man.

“I’m on my way.” Jake grabbed a clean towel and a bottle of shampoo before marching off to the showers.

Twenty minutes later, he was trudging up the stairs to Texas Bob’s private offices. He knew from personal experience that a royal summons was about as enjoyable as an IRS audit.

Jake took a deep breath and knocked.

“Get yourself in here.”

Texas Bob’s greeting blew Jake’s hope for a cordial meeting.

“Yes, sir.” Jake stepped into the office, expecting to see Texas Bob with his feet propped up on the desk, and he wasn’t disappointed. What he hadn’t anticipated was seeing Mrs. Texas Bob and Mac.

“Come in, come in, son,” Texas Bob boomed. The owner’s habit of speaking in capital letters had probably contributed to his business success, either through intimidation or awe. Then Jake realized what he’d heard—Texas Bob had called him
son
.

Marianne Hurst indicated a place on the couch. “Please sit down. We’d like to talk to you.” She patted the cushion next to her.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake sat and propped his elbows on his knees.

“So, what can I do for you?” He pasted on a phony smile. Heck, he was a man—he could face the music, be it good, bad or indifferent.

Mac was lounging in a leather chair. She was the first to speak up. “We want to talk to you about CiCi.”

Jake’s patience was already stretched thin and this line of questioning wasn’t helping matters. “Don’t you think you should have this conversation with your sister?”

She had the grace to look embarrassed but it didn’t keep her from continuing. “CiCi is impossible to live with. So, we put our heads together, and Daddy suggested we talk to you.”

Texas Bob shrugged.

“Are you in love with my daughter?” Marianne asked.

The Hurst women were double-teaming him. Even Terrell Owens didn’t get that much coverage.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’m not going to discuss this with you.”

Marianne took his hand. “We’re not trying to meddle, truly we’re not. My daughter wants to fix things but she doesn’t know how. She loves you.”

That
got his attention. “Is that what she said?” he asked Marianne.

“Well, uh…”

Okay, that was clear enough, and it wasn’t the reply he wanted. “I know you mean well, but I think this meeting is going nowhere real fast. I’ve had a hard day, so I’ll just say goodbye.”

He’d stood to leave when Mac spoke again.

“She loves you,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“She’s been eating ice cream by the truckload. That’s a clear indication of a broken heart. You guys need to get your act together.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Up until that point Texas Bob had kept his opinion to himself.

His wife glared at him. He put his hands up in surrender,
but ruined the effect with his next words. “That girl’s driving everyone nuts.”

It was perverse but Jake wanted to hear more. “I’m listening.” He sat back against the sofa cushion.

“Great!” Marianne exclaimed. “Now, let’s discuss our plan.”

The Road Runners’ first preseason game was less than a week away and CiCi hadn’t made up her mind whether or not she’d attend. Her heart told her to make an appearance, no matter the consequences. Her brain said she was an idiot.

CiCi was eating a bowl of cereal in the kitchen when she heard giggles and then the patter of little feet. It was Molly and her cousin Trip.

“Aunt CiCi.” Molly wrapped her arms around her aunt’s waist. “Mama and Grammy have a surprise for you.”

“Really, what is it?”

Molly giggled. “Silly, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” She grabbed CiCi’s hand and tugged. Trip did the same to her other hand. CiCi didn’t have any choice but to follow them to the sunroom.

At first glance it seemed as if everything was normal. Then she saw it. CiCi squinted, hoping against hope that she was hallucinating. She closed her eyes, shook her head and willed it all away.

Nope, it was still there on the couch. CiCi shot her relatives the evil eye. “What is Tex the Chicken doing here?” CiCi plopped into one of the easy chairs.

“Baby doll,” Daddy began but was quickly overpowered by the cacophony of female voices, including Mac, Mia and Mama.

“Girls, let me explain it.” Mama was obviously the chief conspirator.

At first it looked like there was someone in the mascot suit, but then CiCi realized the red-crested chicken head was listing at half-mast.

“Daddy needs a favor,” Mac said.

CiCi glanced at her father. “If
Daddy
needs a favor, why doesn’t
Daddy
ask me?”

Her disdain obviously wasn’t lost on Texas Bob. “It’s like this. Our newest mascot’s taken a hike and we need a stand-in for the first preseason game.” He rolled his shoulders. “I have the front office looking for a permanent replacement, but for the time being…”

Benedict Arnold would fit right in with this family. “After everything that’s happened, what makes you think I’d do this, even for just one game?”

Texas Bob put his chin in his hands. “We’re in a bind. Mac is too short and your mom is too, uh, mature.” As an afterthought, he gave his wife a wink. “Isn’t that right, snookums?”

“Don’t ‘snookums’ me,” Marianne retorted before turning her attention to her youngest daughter. “Seriously, we don’t have anyone else who can do this, and what would a game be without Tex the Road Runner?”

Mama had a point. “Oh, okay. But keep in mind this is temporary. One game only.” CiCi’s inner voice was screaming like a banshee for her not to do this.

Too bad she couldn’t hear it because of the racket her heart was making. Her family was obviously up to something, she just couldn’t tell what. Unfortunately, she knew this “little favor” was going to turn out to be a whole lot bigger.

J
AKE HAD
a bottle of beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He was dead tired and looking for some mindless
entertainment, but the phone rang. He checked the caller ID and discovered it was Texas Bob’s cell.

“Hello, sir,” Jake answered.

“It’s a go. CiCi will be the mascot on Sunday. The ball is in your court now, son.”

That was what Jake wanted to hear, so why was his gut twisted like a pretzel? Perhaps he wasn’t looking forward to making a fool of himself on national TV. “Got it. I’ll take care of everything. Thanks.”

After Jake clicked off, he flopped on the couch.
Why
had he agreed to this insanity? It wasn’t too late to back out, but did he want to? He desperately needed CiCi in his life.

Jake stabbed a series of numbers into his cordless phone. No time like the present to call in a few favors. He hoped like heck he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

“Whatcha need?” The voice on the other end was a southern drawl familiar to any fan of NFL Sunday.

“Didn’t your mama teach you any manners?” Jake quipped.

“Yep, she sure did, but I’ve got caller ID and I know it’s you. So I don’t have to be nice.” The man tempered his insult with a chuckle.

After a few more good-natured jabs, Jake got down to business. “Hey, Fullbright. I’ve got myself a big problem and I need some help.”

Jake’s explanation was met with silence. That wasn’t encouraging. “So what do you think?”

“Dude, you gotta be jokin’. Right?”

“Nope, I’m dead serious.” Oh, man, this had the earmarks of being a huge goat rope but he was determined to succeed. And if the broadcast network didn’t agree to help, he was going to have to come up with Plan B.

Fullbright reacted with a huge belly laugh. “I can’t wait to see this. What do you need me to do?”

“Grease the skids for me. Convince the network to play along.”

“Who am I to get in the way of true love? I’ll see what I can do. Call you later.”

That was as much as Jake could ask for. “Great. Thanks, I owe you.”

“You sure do, and don’t think I won’t collect.”

“That wouldn’t enter my mind. I’ll buy you dinner the next time you’re in Houston.”

“I’m gonna soak you for the biggest steak in town.”

“It’s yours.”

Jake hung up and put his head in his hands. If they pulled this off it would be a miracle.