Playing for Keeps (19 page)

And if by some miracle they made it to the Super Bowl? The coach would insist on finding a replacement kicker, and not even Johnny would have enough clout to stop it.

You can’t worry about that,
she reminded herself.
One game at a time, right? And this one isn’t in the bag yet, so get back in there and cheer your heart out.

• • •

The Lancers went into the second half with a fourteen to zero lead, but after two blistering touchdowns and a forty-six-yard field goal by the opposing team, they were down by three. The rest was a repeat of the last regular season game, with Johnny trying to run it and getting annihilated. And when a decent field goal opportunity presented itself, no one even expected Sean Decker to take the field.

The Lancers seemed doomed, but the second-year receiver who had stepped up twice came through for them again, thanks to a perfectly placed thirty-yard throw by Johnny. The young man high-stepped it over the goal line and the crowd went wild. Then the Lancers lined up again, trying for a two-point conversion. It seemed like Johnny really wanted to throw it, but no one was open, so he sprinted for the sidelines, looking for an opening, then darting between two burly monsters to make the score.

And the burly monsters made him pay. One hit him so hard, helmet to helmet, Erica’s own teeth rattled, while the other dive-bombed onto him, flattening him almost literally.

Penalty flags flew everywhere, and even the opposing coach looked horrified. Five or six Lancers made it their business to attack the monsters, and the ensuing fight lasted almost fifteen seconds, enough to make the announcers quote statistics for all-time records, brawl-wise.

When the dust settled, Johnny’s points counted and the penalties canceled each other out.

Johnny was sitting up, at least. He had wisely stayed down during the fray, and now allowed one of the fullbacks to help him off the field. He was favoring one leg, and the replays showed why. It wasn’t the blows to his head and torso that were ailing him, it was a knee that had been crushed while in a twisted position.

“This can’t be happening,” Erica whispered.

When her phone rang, she answered it instantly, knowing it couldn’t be him but still hoping for a miracle.

It was her little brother, who told her right away, “He can still play like that. Remember the Big Game his senior year? It’s not over, sis, so don’t start blubbering.”

“I wasn’t blubbering,” she said, choking back a sob. “But thanks for calling.”

“Look at the screen. He’s on the bench. Not in the locker room. The stud thinks he’s going back in.”

It was true. Several assistant coaches were trying to shield him from prying cameras, but there was Johnny. He was shouting something at someone, probably the doctor, but Connor was right. He wasn’t leaving that field unless someone was crazy enough to wrestle with him.

How much more could he be expected to take?

“Erica?” Helmut called out to her. “Are you getting an update from the Lancers?”

“No. It’s my brother.” To Connor, she said sadly, “I have to go. But thanks for calling. You’re such a good brother.”

“Just don’t cry in public. It reflects poorly on the family,” he teased her. “Call me later.”

“I will. I love you, Conn.” Wiping her eyes, she hurried back to the group. “Any news on his condition?”

“See for yourself. He won’t give in.” Helmut’s eyes were shining with respect. “You chose me a winner, Erica. Whatever happens now, the world will see him that way. And they’ll see him drinking my beer on Super Bowl Sunday. I hope you know how much I appreciate that.”

“We make a good team. You, me, Johnny. Caldwell and Steve. And Patrick Murphy, the agent,” she agreed, her eyes still locked on the image of Johnny as a team of trainers and doctors iced and fussed over his left leg.

She didn’t know anything about his backup QB, and for the moment it didn’t matter. The Lancers defense took the field and began meting out justice, Portland style, until the stadium looked like the Colosseum. Erica savored every crunch. Cheered every bone-rattling hit. Not that she wanted anyone else to get hurt, but she
did
want the message to be loud and clear—late hits on the Lancers QB would be dealt with swiftly and with awesome ferocity.

After exacting justice, the defense got back to work, and on fourth down, the only option for the Packers was to punt. The Lancers return guy had been improving every game, and so she wasn’t surprised when he caught it and held it. But when he took off and ran for eighty yards? Then pointed to Johnny, who had jumped up on one leg to watch and cheer? The stadium almost crashed down around their ears from the noise alone.

No one really seemed to notice, or care, when the coach sent Sean Decker onto the field to kick the extra point. Even when Decker sent the ball flying through the uprights for the extra point, and the crowd cheered, Erica knew it was all still for Johnny. No one believed their kicker had made a miraculous recovery. He was undoubtedly still screwed up. But he was also loyal, and wasn’t about to miss an extra point when the other side had so recently abused his QB.

It wasn’t long before the hapless Packers knew their season was over. With sixteen seconds left on the clock, the Lancers were on the fifty-yard line, leading by twelve.

According to the announcers it was a no-brainer at this point. Johnny’s backup would take the field and then take a knee to end the game.

But it was Johnny himself who hobbled out there at a brisk pace, his trademark grin firmly in place. The fans were so hoarse they resorted to stomping their feet, and then he ended the game by taking a knee. Erica would never know if he could have gotten up from that kneeling position under his own power, because his teammates hoisted him on their shoulders and carried him triumphantly off the field.

• • •

When Erica disembarked in Portland, Murf was there to meet her.

“Is he okay? Does he need surgery? How bad is it?” she demanded, giving him a desperate hug even though she barely knew the guy.

“He’s fine. He wanted to be here, but I forced him to wait at the curb.”

“The
curb
? He should be in the hospital. Or at least in bed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure he’ll opt for bed now that
you’re
here.” The agent flushed as though regretting the off-color joke. “I’m flying to Dallas in a few minutes, so you guys’ll be using my suite at the Ashton.” He captured her gaze with his own. “I’m glad you’re here, Erica. He needs you.”

“Should I force him to go to the emergency room?”

“Actually, he does seem fine. Jacked up, obviously, but no breaks or sprains. Or ACL tears, which was the immediate concern. He drove me here, believe it or not. Stubborn to the end.”

She smiled. “I’ll take good care of him. Thanks again, Murf. I’d still be in the Reno airport if it wasn’t for you.”

“Anytime.” His eyes twinkled. “Hell of a game, right?”

“Oh, my God, it was so good.” She caught herself and added sheepishly, “Not so much for Sean Decker though. He’s your client too, right?”

“And a good friend,” Murf said, nodding. “It’s a heartbreaker.”

“He made that extra point today,” she murmured, but she knew from Murf’s face that it didn’t matter. At least not to Decker, and probably not to the owners or coaches either.

“Are these all your bags, Erica?”

“I can handle them,” she assured him, raising the handle on the wheeled carry-on and slinging her briefcase strap over her shoulder. “Just enjoy your flight. I’ll find Johnny. Thanks again.”

• • •

When she reached the curb, he was standing next to his SUV, but in the shadows where no one could recognize him. He started toward her, but didn’t move too quickly, so she ran and embraced him passionately. “Johnny!”

“You feel amazing.”

“So do you. Your beautiful body. How badly did they hurt it?”

“Everything still works.” He hugged her tight. “I knew you’d be worried, but I swear it was just a stinger.”

“We should get you to bed. If this is an automatic, I can drive.”

“I’ve got it.” He cradled her cheek in his hand. “We have Murf’s suite to ourselves, did he tell you?”

“He mentioned it. But I had my heart set on seeing your house.”

“Huh?”

She arched a playful eyebrow. “I didn’t know I was coming so I don’t have the bikini. We’ll have to skinny-dip in that whirlpool spa you keep telling me about.”

He beamed. “First you blow off your meeting? Now you’re coming to my house? Remind me to get brutalized every week.”

She laughed. “I don’t think anyone will dare touch you again. Your guys really had your back.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve always been a close team, but this game? I’ll never forget it.
Everyone
stepped up. Especially you.”

“If you let me drive, I’ll rub ointment on you wherever you want, all night long.”

“Get in the car,” he said, laughing. “I can still drive, and trust me, I have other plans for you.”

• • •

It was pitch-dark when they reached his house, and while he tried to show her around, she insisted on stripping off his sweats to survey the damage.

“Oh, Johnny . . .” She kissed his bruised chest and neck, then worked her way down his torso, paid a few moments of amorous homage to his erection, then moved her kisses to the injured knee. It was various ugly shades of purple and blue, but she didn’t see a lot of swelling, so she decided maybe he was telling the truth about his condition.

Still, when he tried to undress her too, she stepped away and did it herself, trying for a hot—but not
too
hot—display. The she headed toward the deck, where steam was already rising out of the hot tub thanks to his remote control.

She wanted him to soak first but couldn’t really resist when he made love to her, gently but with no sign of injury. He behaved as though they were on the beach again, young lovers with all the time in the world. And with a sliver of moon shining overhead, and the water bubbling around her, she wished it could be so. That they could stay here, this way, forever.

When they were tired and satiated, they cuddled for a while without talking, then she scampered out and found two towels. He tried to exit just as gracefully, but she could see how stiff and sore his muscles were, so she helped him, then dried him off and led him to the bed, allowing him to play tour guide, but just a bit, as they made their way through a sparsely furnished living room with sky-high beamed ceilings and walls that were sheer window, floor to ceiling, on two sides. The third was occupied by a low stone fireplace flanked by two more long windows and topped with the largest mirror Erica had ever seen.

Once she had him tucked into bed in his dark, regally decorated master bedroom, she crawled in beside him and cuddled again. When he asked about her trip, she pleaded exhaustion. When she asked him about painkillers, he assured her he was so tired, he’d be asleep in seconds, no medication required. She had a feeling he was just humoring her, but maybe not, because he was breathing steadily within seconds.

She would have gone right to sleep too, but had noticed something on his bedside table. It was the tongue-in-cheek sketch she had made for him in Florence. She loved that he had placed it here, leaning it against a silver picture frame. And she was dying to know whose photo was being covered up. An ex-girlfriend? Or more likely, the mother or older brother he had lost as a teenager.

Reaching across his slumbering form, she tipped the sketch down, then sighed. The image in the frame showed Coach Aaron Spurling flanked by sons Johnny and Jason. Standing in front of the smiling males was a small, dark-haired pregnant woman whom Erica recognized as Jason’s wife, Beth.

Also known as Erica’s nemesis since Beth had arranged the blind date. But the mother-to-be looked so radiant, Erica couldn’t resent her, so she settled for propping the sketch back up against the frame so Johnny would see
her
image, not his sister-in-law’s, when he awoke.

• • •

The next morning, when he hobbled to the bathroom, she sprang into action, insisting they have hot chocolate in the whirlpool. When he agreed right away, she knew the leg was really bothering him. Of course, it could be the bruised ribs and the contusion on the side of his torso too. “They should change the Lancers colors to purple and blue,” she told him mournfully.

“Yeah.” He eased into the water, then accepted the warm drink and took a sip. “You found the oranges? Oh, fuck, I forgot to give you your Christmas present.”

She stopped him from climbing out of the tub. “We’ll save that for later. Should I bring your phone before I get in? It’s been buzzing every five seconds.”

“Probably the trainers. Or my sister-in-law. I talked to everyone last night while I was waiting for you to land, but she’s relentless. You’d like her.”

“I’m sure I would,” she told him, trying to minimize the insincerity in her tone. Then she settled back into the hot, swirling water, allowing it to pamper her naked body. “Do you have practice today?”

“No. There’s usually a meeting at least, but the coach canceled it, supposedly out of deference to me. But he’s just avoiding a repeat of last time.”

“Too bad there’s so much friction. You guys deserve to celebrate your victory.”

“I’m sure the guys are celebrating their asses off, at least the ones who can move.”

He was quiet, staring out into the woods behind his house, and she suspected he was thinking about Sean Decker.

“My flight leaves at five. Maybe you can get together with them after you drop me off.” She snuggled against him. “I’m sure Sean and Bannerman are looking for an excuse to make up.”

“They’re not ready. But I’ll buy Deck a beer,” he agreed. “Too bad he doesn’t have a girlfriend like you. Can’t you hook him up with someone? Those two girls at work? Jenna and May, right?”

Surprised that he remembered their names, she assured him, “Jenna would be perfect. But she has a boyfriend. We can’t figure out what she sees in him, but it’s serious.”