Playing for Hearts (20 page)

She wrinkled her nose. “That's gross.”

“That's what Dominic says.” Grayson pulled her over to him and looped his arms around her waist. “So tell me, do you really feel nothing around him?”

“Of course not.” She cupped his face, running her thumb over the slight indention on his chin. “It's all about you. You make me squeal and do silly things to get your attention. No one has ever come close to making me work as hard as you to gain your attention. That must make you worth all the trouble, huh?”

“Yeah, you do have a way about you that makes me pay attention.” He grinned.

She nodded. “I swear, next week I'll go back to my normal stalker-like self. I'll drive you nuts.”

He kissed her softly. “I miss having you all to myself. I can't wait until the charity event is over and our lives go back to normal. I want you in my bed every night.”

She pressed against his chest. “Only your bed? Wow, you know how to sweet talk a lady, don't you?”

“You know what I mean. I miss you.” He laid her head in the nook between his neck and shoulder. “I've been a fool when it comes to you, and have a lot to make up for when my friends leave.”

“That sounds perfect.” She closed her eyes and let him hold her. “You won't find any argument from me.”

“Figured not.” He chuckled.

“I hate to go, but I'll never make it through the rest of the events that are planned if I don't head home, soak in the tub, and get some sleep.” She opened her eyes and leaned back. “You better rest up, the press is landing tomorrow, and you still have to play against the winners of the tournament on Sunday. I heard you have a couple of players you trained yourself gunning for you.”

“Yeah, they talk big but have never seen me play full out in person before.” He kissed her once more, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I'll see you out.”

Hand in hand, they walked back through the house, stepped over Dominic who was still out cold on the living room floor, and went out the front door. She gazed up at the sky. The stars twinkled in the sky.

“I hope it doesn't get too hot tomorrow. Bruce will be okay at the lake, but Crista has three runs she promised to do. Juan's taken the high school gym. I figured that was the easiest place for him to show off his ski line, and sign autographs.” She slapped her forehead. “I forgot to let Gary know we switched him from the field at the school to the park. The maintenance crew thought it would be less hassle to leave everything set up from Dominic's event and use it for Gary.”

“Don't worry. I'll let him know,” Grayson said.

“I think I need a drink.” She stopped at her car and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Let's get drunk when this is all over.”

“That'll take two drinks.” He tickled her side. “You're a lightweight.”

“Gah. Don't remind me.” She kissed him.

“I'm worried about you. What you've done is a huge undertaking.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “With your mom back, you haven't had any time to yourself. You're going to have to face your family when all this is over. The stress isn't good for you.”

“I know.” She licked her bottom lip. “I miss my dad one minute, and then the next second I'm so mad.”

“At your mom?”

She nodded. “Dad, too. How can he let her come waltzing back into his life? It's like he's forgotten everything we went through after she left.”

Grayson opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed his jaw. She frowned.

“What were you going to say?” She waited.

“Maybe there's more to the story. You were young when she left.” He tilted her chin up. “It probably wouldn't hurt to talk with her. Get everything out in the open.”

“If you had the chance to talk to your parents again, to confront them for leaving you all alone, would you?”

His mouth tightened.

“Never mind.” She smoothed out the lines on his face with her hands. “That's two separate problems, and I shouldn't have asked.”

He kissed her forehead. “Just think about what I said. If you decide to talk with them, I'll be here for you, okay?”

“Thanks.” She ducked her chin. “Right now, I want to ignore the fact that she's pushed herself back in my life. It was easier when she was gone. I'll keep myself busy, and when this is all over, I'll have a talk with my dad. We'll figure it out. We always do.”

He cupped the back of her neck and held her in place, while he took the kiss deeper. Her eyes closed and her legs shook as she melted under his touch. If she didn't leave now, she'd talk herself into staying and both of them would suffer tomorrow when they were dragging themselves around to the events.

She pulled away at the same time a bright flash lit up the driveway, blinding her. Grayson threw his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his chest as he hurried to open the car door. She continued to blink away the dots clouding her vision.

“Dammit. It's the press. Get inside and drive away.” He put his hand on the top of her head and pushed her into the car. “Take the back roads into town, and make sure they don't follow you to the hotel before you get out of the car. I'll do my best to hold them here, and give you a head start. Go. Go!”

She nodded. Her hands shook as she tried to start her car. She threw the gear in reverse, but there were two cameramen blocking her exit. She peered out at Grayson, not knowing what to do. He motioned her to go the other direction through the front lawn.

Without thinking, and still struggling to see past the spots floating in front of her from the flash, she pressed the accelerator, shot forward, and left burn marks in Grayson's perfectly manicured lawn.

Grayson kept his hands down at his sides, and watched Shauna tear out of his driveway. His breath lodged in his chest, and he forced himself to face the reporters.

“Grayson, who's the woman you were kissing?” A tall man shoved a microphone in front of his face. “Is she someone from your past?”

Another man, shorter this time, held up a bright light. “Give us some background on your new love interest. Did you kick her out before the night was over? What happened to the last blond-haired woman you were seeing? Jessica? Is it true you dumped her for a supermodel?”

Grayson reached into his pocket and held up his phone. “You're on private property, and I'll give you two minutes to get back in your van and leave.”

“What's her name?” The man remained standing in front of him.

He pushed a button and glared at them. “Clock's ticking, boys.”

“Rumors are going around that she's your mistress, and you've kept her hidden away for years. Is that true? Do you have plans to make this a permanent relationship?”

“I'm not answering any questions. On Sunday, you're all invited to the tournament and the final event. I will answer any question about my professional life there, but my personal life is off limits. Tomorrow, you'll concentrate on the other athletes and do whatever needs to be done to support Cottage Grove. That's why you're here. Do you understand?” He stepped toward them, backing them up.

“Sure, sure. Give us the woman's name, and we won't mention it until after the event.” The tall man motioned for the camera crew. “Get a close up. Let's show the television viewers how we've caught the golden boy in the middle of having a private affair.”

“That's it. I'm calling the police.” He turned his back, punched the button for his own voice mail, and walked to the house. “Yes, this is Grayson Schyler at — ”

Shouting commenced. He glanced behind him. The car doors slammed and the van engine revved. He shook his head in disgust. “Assholes.”

He walked into the house, locked the door, and set the security alarm. After waking Dominic up and telling him to go to bed, he climbed the stairs to his room. The dinner he'd eaten earlier churned in his stomach and he popped a couple antacids from the nightstand in his mouth before moving over to the window.

The press had cleared out from the front of his house, and he leaned his forehead against the glass. The relief he should've felt refused to come. His chest tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't let them put Shauna through the hell they were capable of or make her doubt their relationship. It'd destroy her.

Too sweet and gentle, she'd fall apart under the pressure. They'd insinuate that he was using her, and belittle what they shared.

Going to college was supposed to have been her one-way ticket away from him and the life that would've crumbled her love for him after time. She'd been too young, and he'd only wanted to keep her happy. He'd wanted her to achieve everything she deserved.

He'd never expected her to return, acting as if nothing had changed between them. He closed his eyes briefly. He'd gone from believing he'd lost her for six years to finally having her back in his life, and he wasn't willing to let the damn reporters take that away from him.

The amount of shit that came with being in the public eye had ruined many people. He'd seen it himself. And he saw the fear and apprehension when they peppered Shauna with questions. This was his life, not hers.

He ran his hands through his hair. Shauna and her damn good deeds. No one cared about her fixing all her past mistakes. She couldn't see that everyone in town loved her for who she was, that they could see past the childhood choices she made, no matter how destroying they'd been. She was Shauna, who loved deeper, cared stronger, and tried harder than anyone he knew.

She should never have planned the fundraiser. The reporters and news cameras would expect her to spend time in front of the lens, and Grayson would be useless to stop them from putting doubt in her mind.

He moved away from the window and dragged his feet into the bathroom to start the shower. He had no idea how to fix everything, but he was damn sure he'd do whatever it took to make sure she felt exonerated. She wanted others to view her as the mature, responsible woman that she was, and he'd bulldoze anyone down who tried to take that away from her.

If that included keeping the press away or punching anyone who got close to her, he'd do it. He'd seen what reporters could do to a person.

Shauna lived a sheltered lifestyle. There was no safe place for love when everyone wanted the dirt, the scandal, the mistakes. Fame had destroyed his parents and had sucked him dry while playing the circuit — he wouldn't allow that to happen to Shauna.

For the first time, he damned their age difference. If he'd only known her before he'd become famous. If he'd experienced what it was like to love Shauna back then, he would've done anything to keep her. Instead, he'd let her go because he had a career, and now he was going to have to figure out a way to make her understand there was no going back. He was a former Wimbledon champ, and the press would always be around.

He removed his phone from his pocket, and pushed the button. He'd call her and make sure she arrived back at the hotel without any problems. Then he'd figure out a way for them to get together, away from the press, and hopefully he'd keep her safe until the benefit was over.

Shauna's voice mail came on. He cussed. “Hey. Call me. Please.”

He waited, needing to say more and coming up empty. How was he supposed to tell her he loved her when he couldn't see her face, her eyes?

Hanging up, he threw the phone on the dresser.

He had no idea if the reporters would find out where Shauna was staying. She was open and trusting. They'd have her confessing on tape. They'd take her love and turn it into something wrong and ugly.

She'd grow to hate him, and the thought of her regretting every second they were together wounded him. If she weren't depending on making a success of the event, he'd almost be tempted to fly her out of the country tonight. They could hide away in the Bahamas, or go to Cancun.

He stubbed his toe on the bathroom doorframe. “God dammit!”

In his pain, he threw himself at the door, slamming his shoulder against the wood. The splurge of energy did nothing but feed his anger.

Shauna always affected him in the worst way. He became weak and selfish around her. His common sense fled for the chance to make her smile.

Forgetting about the shower, he slid on a pair of shorts, put his sneakers on, and hurried downstairs. He grabbed the center's keys off the front table, and ran across the lawn.

He walked through the lobby in the dark. After grabbing a racket from behind the counter, he flicked on the first court lights and headed out on the playing area. The fluorescent bulbs flickered, trying to power up to their full capacity. He was in no mood to wait, and loaded the ball machine.

He flipped the switch, ran to the other side, and lunged for the first ball. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he hit forehands, one after another, drilling the balls over the net and pinging off the curtain. Each swing left him grunting, throwing all his strength into beating his opponent.

After a few minutes, he fell into a routine. Each ball represented a threat to Shauna, and he smashed it over to the other side of the court with all his power. Sweat dripped down into his eyes, but he kept going. He couldn't stop.

The machine took two hundred tennis balls, and he returned them faster, harder each time, letting himself sink back into a routine that was more familiar to him than waking up every morning. This is where he belonged. This was what he could control.

Out on the court, he could pretend his life was easy, that there wasn't a woman loving him, and pain ready to take someone he loved. He was playing a game. One he knew well.

Repetitive movements, constant power, and two hundred tennis balls later, he dropped his racket on the court and walked out. He walked down the hallway to his office. Leaving the lights off, he sunk down in his chair, and buried his head in his hands.