Impulsive (18 page)

"Yes, well, you seem to have caught us at an awkward moment,
Mrs. Deny."

"So I see." Claudia took a deep breath and plunged in.
"May I ask what your intentions are toward my daughter?"

Her question, rather passé for this day and age, brought a crooked
smile to Ty's lips. "At this exact moment, my intentions are to go find my
shirt and inform Jess that we have company. Then I'm going to see if I can
rustle up a pot of coffee." He started down the hall. Two steps later, he
turned again and said, "You wouldn't know how to operate that cappuccino
machine, would you? I just can't seem to get the hang of it yet."

"Yes, but..."

"Bless you, Mrs. Derry. I assume you know your way around
Jess's kitchen well enough to find everything you need."

Claudia eyed him oddly, not quite sure what to make of him.
"I'll manage," she assured him dryly.

Ty scooted to the bedroom. Jess was just emerging from the bathroom.
"Get something on, sweetheart, and try to be quick about it. Your mother's
here."

Jess's eyes grew huge. "My mother?" she squeaked.
"Oh, my God! Where? When?"

"While you were taking your good sweet time in the
shower," he told her brusquely, thrusting his arms into his shirt and
fumbling blindly for the buttons. "I let her in. She should be in the
kitchen making cappuccino, unless she decided to wait for you to do it."

"Oh, Lord!" Jess wailed. "What did she say? You...
you..." She gestured toward him, indicating his lack of attire.

"Right. That's similar to your mother's reaction, give or
take a syllable. But she recovered enough to ask me what my intentions are
toward you."

Jess groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Tell me she
didn't!"

"Oh, but she did. Now, will you stop standing there like your
feet are glued to the floor and get a move on? I'll try to
keep
her occupied until you can join us." Ty planted a swift kiss on her
forehead and dashed from the room.

He slid to a halt inches shy of the kitchen doorway and sauntered
into the room as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Jess will be right
out. Did you find everything all right?"

The espresso machine whirred. "I did," Claudia responded
shortly.

Ty walked to the refrigerator, opened the door and peered inside.
"Have you had breakfast, ma'am? I'm pretty good at scrambling eggs and
making French toast, if you'd care for some."

"No thank you, but help yourself. I suppose
you
know
where everything is, too?"

"Most of it," he replied with studied nonchalance. He
removed the carton of eggs and milk and proceeded to make breakfast. At one
point, he stopped, went to the memo board hanging near the phone, and jotted
down a note. "We're almost out of butter," he explained, to no one in
particular.

"Your coffee is ready," Claudia offered.

"Just set it on the table, thanks." He grabbed the toast
as it popped up, buttered it, and carried it and the platter of scrambled eggs
to the table. "Are you sure you won't join me?" he asked again, as he
rifled through cabinet and drawer for plates and flatware. "There's plenty
for all."

"No, coffee is fine for me." She waited until he was
seated opposite her, and asked, "So, how long have you and Jessica...
uh... known each other."

"About a month."

Fortunately, Jess sprinted into the kitchen at that point, with
just enough breath left to say, "Now, Mom, don't interrogate Ty. It's
embarrassing."

"Not nearly as much as that falsie incident, though," Ty
inserted with a sly grin.

Claudia's eyes widened. "She told you about that?" she
queried with interest.

Ty chuckled. "Yes. Did you really lay rubber for half a mile
afterward?"

Claudia gave a nervous laugh. "I believe I did." She
switched
subjects, back to the primary point. "You two seem to be exchanging
confidences fairly soon."

Jess glowered. "Mother, I'm a grown woman. I'm entitled to
some private life of my own."

"And I'm your mother," Claudia countered, "and
therefore entitled to worm any information out of you that I can. I worry about
you. Now sit, and eat your breakfast. You're still entirely too thin."

"Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming?"

"I thought I'd surprise you, dear," Claudia replied with
irony. "But it seems I'm the one who was in for the greatest shock."

"Not by far," Jess muttered. "Still, I wish you'd
phoned ahead. I could have saved you the trip. We've got to catch a flight to
Phoenix in about five hours."

"Both of you?"

"The whole team," Ty put in. "We've got a game
there tomorrow against the Cardinals."

Claudia faced her daughter. "From that, I assume you are
still tutoring that kicker?"

"Yes, Mom, I am. It's working out nicely, and padding my bank
account as well. I'm also finishing up my interviews for my television article.
Moreover, I've made some very good friends."

"Besides Mr. James?" Claudia inquired archly.

Jess ignored the jibe. Ty grinned openly. "Please, call me
Ty, or Tyler. No point in standing on formality at this stage, is there?"

Jess shot him a glare. "One of the other players is married
to
Corey Rome, the model," she said to her mother. "She's very sweet,
and not in the least stuck-up, despite her fame."

"I'll bet she's also tall and thin, like you," Claudia
supposed. "Maybe she could give you some pointers on the latest
styles." Claudia's gaze swept over Jess's worn jeans and faded T-shirt, a look
of weary resignation on her face.

"I'm already on top of that," Ty assured her. To Jess,
he added, "Why don't you show your mother your new duds. I'll bet it's
been years since she's seen you in a pair of high heels."

"High heels?" Claudia echoed incredulously. "My
stars! This I've got to see to believe!"

By the end of her visit, short as it was, Claudia was duly
impressed. After kissing Jess goodbye, she offered her hand to Ty. "I must
say, you have excellent taste, Tyler. I wouldn't have guessed it."

He took her hand, but rather than merely shaking it, he brought it
to his lips and kissed her fingers. Then, as if the courtly gesture was too
much, he winked. "Modesty aside, I have to agree. I have superb taste. I
chose your daughter, didn't I?"

They were supposed to use their flight time to review the playbook
and strategies, and to psych themselves up for the upcoming game, but it was
nearly impossible to concentrate with one flight attendant or another
interrupting every second or two. It got so ridiculous that Jess was becoming
greatly perturbed.

"Good grief! You'd think you guys were rock stars or
something, the way these women are hovering over all of you!"

"Jealous, love?" Ty teased.

Jess scowled. "Yes, blast it. They could at least have one
good-looking steward to attend to us girls."

Ty frowned. "That's not what I meant, Jess. I was asking if
it bothered you to have other women showing an interest in me."

"I know what you were fishing for," she grumbled,
"and the answer, again, is yes. As absurd as it may seem, I guess I'm
already used to having you to myself."

"Me, too," he admitted, taking her hand in his and
stroking her fingers. "I just needed to know if you felt the same."

Phoenix was hot, but dry. Given even a smidgeon of humidity, the
hundred-degree temperature would have been
unbearable.
The air-conditioned hotel felt wonderful. This time around, Corey had come
along, so Gabe would be staying with her. Jess was slated to room with the
cheerleaders again, but it didn't take much talking for Ty to persuade her to
share his quarters instead.

"Should I at least make some pretense, for propriety's
sake?" Jess asked in a low voice. "I could have my bags sent to my
room and only bring what I need to yours."

Ty chuckled and shook his head. "What good would that do?
Even if you waited until the others were all asleep and sneaked down to my
room, they'd still know. You wouldn't be fooling anyone, Jess, so we might as
well be up front about it."

"I suppose you're right," she conceded, "but I
don't want to get you into trouble with Coach Danvers. After all, aren't you
jocks supposed to conserve your energy the night before a game?"

"As in no sex?" he questioned with a wide grin.
"Get real, sweetheart. That old myth went out with the Model T."

She grinned back at him. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Ty laughed and hugged her close to his side. "That's my horny
little bunny," he whispered into her ear, his warm breath making her
shiver. "We humping wabbits have got to stick together."

The phone was ringing before they got their door open. "Oh,
come on," Ty said wryly. "Our neighbors can't be onto us yet. We
haven't even made it out of the hall, let alone into bed!"

Ty answered the call. It was Corey, wanting to know if he and Jess
would join her and Gabe for dinner and dancing that evening. While Corey waited
on the line, Ty relayed the request to Jess.

"I don't dance very well," Jess told him ruefully.
"Not too many guys care to look as if they're dancing with a giraffe, so
my experience has been severely limited."

Ty shrugged. "We can go along and enjoy the music if nothing
else. Maybe try a slow number or two. You did bring that black dress and your
heels, didn't you?"

Jess nodded.

"Corey, we'd love to join you. What time?" A pause,
then, "That's fine. I'd like to get in a little pool time and enjoy some
of this Arizona weather first. What? Sure. We'll look for you at the pool in
about fifteen minutes, then."

He hung up, only to find Jess with a dismal look on her face.
"Let me guess. You didn't bring your swimsuit."

"No, and I wouldn't wear it if I had," she told him.
"Ty, when are you going to get it through your head that I'm extremely
self-conscious about exposing my body for everybody's viewing. I don't need to
advertise the fact that I'm skinny and have small breasts."

"Babe, you're being silly. There are women who would kill to
have your shape, breasts and all. Just ask any of a zillion females who have
been counting calories all their lives. You are slim, trim, and have the most
incredible legs in the world. You'd be a knockout in a bikini."

"In your dreams, hotshot."

"There, and elsewhere," he vowed. He dug his swim trunks
out of his suitcase, grabbed her arm, and steered her toward the door.
"Come on. We're going down to that shop off the lobby, and I am going to
buy you a new swimsuit."

"I won't wear it," she replied stubbornly.

"Yes, you will, if I have to go into the ladies' room and
stuff you into it myself," he threatened in return.

Ty was as good as his word. When Jess refused to cooperate, he
chose a couple of suits himself and literally pushed her into the changing
stall. "If you're not out of there in two minutes, modeling one of those
suits, I'm going in after you."

"Damn bossy jock!" she muttered, yanking off her top.
"Give him an inch, and he wants a mile." Her bra went the way of her
blouse.

"I heard that," he called from just outside the door.
"That's what all the fellas say about you ladies. Give you an inch
and—"

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, dropping her slacks to the
floor. "Just stick a sock in it, will you?"

She emerged wearing a red one-piece, similar to the style worn by
Olympic swimmers. Ty studied her in it. "Nice, but it doesn't trip my
trigger." He waved her inside again.

Next, she came out wearing a blue two-piece, with a little fringe
skirt. Ty shook his head. "Too frilly. It hides your hips."

Jess almost laid a brick when she tried on the third suit and saw
herself in the mirror. While it was probably modest compared to the thong
things other women wore these days, it was still a bikini and covered less than
the other two-piece. Not only that, but it was simply too bright, sort of a
neon yellow, and extremely... noticeable. It was designed to attract altogether
too much attention to the wearer, especially if that person were her.

"Ty, I can't wear this yellow suit," she called out to
him.

"Why? Isn't it the right size?"

"Yeah, if you count wearing a couple banana-colored
handkerchiefs as being decently covered."

"Let me see."

"No."

"Jess, get your butt out here."

She poked her head out first, glancing around to make sure no one
else was looking in her direction. "Look fast, buster," she
instructed, inching out of the booth. "God forbid anyone else should see
me in this."

Ty stood gaping, his eyes all but bulging from their sockets. When
he finally found his tongue, he let loose a low whistle. "Holy Moses!
That's the one, Jess! That says it all!"