Playing for Kicks (Play Makers Book 5) (13 page)

“The Seahawks have a Monday night game in
Week Two of pre-season. That would be awesome.”

“That would be
August,”
she drawled.
“I need to wrap it up sooner, Ed.” Covering his hand with her own,
she promised, “We’ll be friends forever. You
know
that. But
I need to cut ties with bartending. It’s important to me.”

“Because of your dad?” His jaw tightened.
“You’re never gonna please him, Tess.”

Offended, she assured him, “It’s not that. I
want to give journalism my full attention. And my Colbee shtick
can’t last forever. Why not quit at the top of my game?”

To her relief, he nodded. “Whatever you want,
kiddo. You know that. I owe you the world. So let’s see what
Victoria says. If she’ll give it a try, we’ll announce your last
shift. But you’ll still be back for a party during that Seahawks
game.” A sly smile lit his face. “You’ll need a wheelbarrow for all
the tips you’re gonna get at
that
bash.”

• • •

To Tess’s relief, her talk with the other Ed
went more smoothly since he wasn’t actually a fan of her bartending
career, even though they had met at Zone D when he wandered in off
the street seeking a sympathetic ear but instead getting an earful
of hilarious misadventures from Colbee. Tess could still remember
how shocked she’d been when he gave her a huge tip, revealed that
he ran a successful e-zine, and asked her to write up her stories
for publication.

The start of a perfect relationship. And
since Ed’s daughter and son-in-law refused to live in the studio
apartment he had built for them above his garage, the perfect
landlord-tenant relationship as well.

By the time she returned to the junior suite
on Thursday afternoon, she had listened to her recorded interviews
of Erica and Johnny several times and was confident she could write
the meat of her article quickly. But not too quickly, since the
suite had a fireplace and the hotel had a heated indoor pool.

Sweet.

She was hanging up T-shirts when her phone
rang.

SDecker
.

Really, Sean?

As always when it came to the kicker, her
emotions collided. Curiosity. A tinge of lust. And mostly a sense
of awe. There was a perfection to him—the calm, the humility, the
heat. But his romantic history was a joke. Sleeping with twins for
all the wrong reasons? Kissing his best friend’s wife? And his
other
best friend’s fiancée? And God only knew who else?

Johnny calls us his harem,
Erica had
joked.

Wary, she answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”

“Hey, Tess. It’s Sean. Thanks for picking
up.”

“Hi, Sean. How goes the breakup?”

He surprised her by insisting, “It’s going
great, actually. I decided to take your advice. To take it slow.
And it’s working.”

Pleased, she relaxed a bit. “That’s good,
Sean. One day at a time, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “So how about you? Murf
says you’ve got your own suite at the Ashton now. Some kind of
writer’s retreat, right? That’s awesome.”

“I love it,” she admitted. “It’s hard for me
to concentrate in Seattle.”

“Yeah, I heard about the cats. Sounds like
you made the right move.”

Charmed, but struggling
not
to be, she
said, “I’m still unpacking, so I’d better get back to it. Thanks
for the update, Sean.”

“Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

“With
you?
I thought you were taking
it slow.”

“It’s not a date,” he assured her. “I just
figured we should talk. Erica showed me that list of questions you
gave her, and they’re great. But I’d rather deal directly with you.
Otherwise stuff could get lost in translation.”

That actually made sense, since those
questions were all about feelings. Emotions. Losing his mom, then
realizing he might lose a precious link to her if the shoe company
went down the tubes.

“None of that will go in the article, Sean.
You know that, right? I’m just trying to understand your
motivation.”

“I could see that from the way you phrased
the questions,” he told her. “Erica’s right about you. You’re the
perfect person to write this. So interview me.”

“As long as it’s not a date.”

“I’m not ready to date, remember?”

She laughed in frustration. “The good news
is, the hotel bistro has cherry pie. So let’s meet there at your
convenience. My treat.”

“I like cherry pie,” he said. “But I might
get recognized at the hotel. Then I’d spend the whole interview
signing autographs. So let’s try someplace out of the way.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“There’s a coffee shop about twelve blocks
from you. I haven’t tried it, but it sells comic books, so let’s
face it. Not a football enclave, right?”

She laughed. “Probably not. Let me know when
you want to meet and I’ll walk over.”

“You mean, walk by yourself? It’s not safe,
Tess. We could walk together. Or I could pick you up.”

“Text me the address and I’ll drive over.
How’s that?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said
solemnly, “It’s awesome. Thanks, Tess. See you in a few.”

Chapter
Four

She had brought tons of clothes this time.
Yoga pants, T-shirts, jeans, shorts, and a suit for interviews. In
other words, nothing for a non-date with a sexy NFL kicker who
might try to kiss her even though he was supposedly taking it
slow.

Ugh . . .

Finally she settled for faded jeans and the
very same UH top she had worn the last time he saw her. Maybe she
could bore him to death. Or at least, not seem intentionally
provocative.

“Why do you care?” she asked herself as she
pulled into the parking lot behind the comic book store and chose a
spot next to a gorgeous white Mercedes that was almost certainly
Sean’s. Understated and sexy—his trademarks.

“He just broke up with twins,” she chanted as
she found the rear entrance to the café. “You couldn’t compete with
that even if you wanted to. And you don’t want to. So settle down
for crap’s sake.”

Without warning he was at her side. “Hey,
Tess. Thanks for coming.”

“Hey,” she murmured, staring up in dismay.
His eyes were even greener than she remembered. And he was taller.
And broader. And that smile—

“Did you get a table?” she asked
breathlessly.

“There’s no one else here. So we’re in
luck.”

“Oh, God . . .” She laughed at herself
as she surveyed the empty shop. “You picked the right place for
sure.”

His eyes twinkled as he took her by the
elbow. “Looks like we order over here, then find a table.”

Charmed, she went with him to a display case
that held limited-edition comic books on one shelf and baked
goodies on the other. When a gangly teenager walked over to them,
Sean asked him, “Any chance you have cherry pie?”

The kid ignored him, his attention on Tess.
“We have cranberry scones and blueberry muffins.”

She smiled fondly. He was adorable in his own
way but clearly unfamiliar with the female of the species, at least
in real life. Probably because he worked in a comic book store,
although that could be a symptom, not a cause.

“I’ll have a cranberry scone,” she told him.
“And a latte if you have them.”

“You look familiar,” he said, studying her
intently.

“Do you drink beer in Seattle?”

He drew back, shocked. “No.”

“Then I’m nobody. But my friend here is a
famous football player. You should get his autograph.”

Sean chuckled. “She’s kidding, kid. I’ll have
a scone too. And black coffee.” Handing him a generous fold of
bills, he added, “Can you bring our order to the table?”

The boy nodded. “Thanks, sir.”

Sean was chuckling as they chose the farthest
table from the counter. “I’ll never get used to that. Being called
‘sir.’”

“At least he didn’t drool on you
.
”

“Yeah, that was hilarious.” He pulled out a
chair for her, then settled into a seat across the table. “It was
cool the way you humored him. Most women wouldn’t bother.”

“He’s sweet. Plus, I make my living off tips.
So flirting is what I do.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember
flirting with
you
. Since you just broke up with twins and
this isn’t a date. Speaking of which . . .” She pulled out her
recorder, turned it on, and set it on the table. Then she
announced, “Interview with Sean Decker.”

“What’s this?” He reached over and turned it
off. “This is kind of personal, Tess. Do you really have to record
it?”

“No,” she admitted, feeling guilty for not
having asked his permission. “Like I said on the phone, this is
just background. It won’t go in the article.”

His gaze captured hers. “Can I ask you
something first? Off the record?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Erica said I should ask about Hawaii. How it
changed your life.”

Tess’s annoyance flared. “Seriously? She’s
obsessed.”

“Yeah, but only because she’s such a great
friend.” His eyes twinkled. “So Hawaii’s off-limits? How about
bartending? Tell me how you got into that.”

“Are you writing an article about me?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “But that’s what
makes you an expert, right? About breakups? Because you’ve seen so
many at your job?”

The reference touched her heart, reminding
her she was being too hard on this guy. “Are you having regrets,
Sean? It’s natural, you know.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” He
paused while the clerk served them their food. And apparently he
noticed how the kid looked at Tess, because he waited for him to
depart, then said teasingly, “It must be the ponytail.”

“It’s supposed to send a no-sex message but
sometimes it has the opposite effect.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Her cheeks warmed. “We were talking about
your ex-fiancée, weren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sobering quickly. “I don’t
miss her, Tess. I feel bad saying that, but it’s the truth. I don’t
want to trash her, because she’s a nice person, but I swear, it’s
like I was drowning. Now I can breathe again. That’s how bad it
was. So the idea I might get back with her? Let’s just say I’d
rather shoot myself.”

Tess eyed him sternly. “Classic denial. You
were drowning? Now you can breathe? You’d rather shoot yourself?
Every guy who ever breaks up with any girl says these very things.
Word for word. Then two weeks later? He’s crying in his beer,
insisting he made a huge mistake. So when I say take it slow, you
should listen.”

“I’m listening. Mostly because you’re so
cute. Do you talk to your customers this way?” he asked fondly.
“They must go nuts.”

“In other words, you’re not taking this
seriously? Fine. Let’s move on to the shoe questions.”

“No, wait.” He tried for a serious
expression, but she could see he was laughing as he said, “You’re
missing the point. My life has been a living hell. Now suddenly
it’s amazing. I can hang out with my friends. Including
you.
Joke around without feeling guilty or trapped. It’s like I was
condemned to death but now I’m free.”

The green glint in his eyes would have
seduced her if she hadn’t heard all this before. A living hell? The
condemned-man syndrome? Textbook breakup jargon. Soon to be
followed by the inevitable self-loathing and desperation to win
back the quote-unquote great love of his life. She could only pray
she could skip
that
part of the melodrama.

The only silver lining was the scone, which
was heavenly, so she savored it for a moment before saying, “I’m
glad you’re happy. And who knows? Maybe you won’t backslide. Even
though forty-eight percent of guys do. And another twenty-two
percent do some rebound dating and
then
run back to the
ex.”

“You’ve got the stats? That’s
impressive.”

“The point is, it happens. And even if you’re
in the other thirty percent, you need time to grieve. She was a big
part of your life. You almost
married
her. You probably
would
have married her if she wasn’t already married.
Right?”

“It’s hard to say,” he murmured. “The husband
and the twin were part of the psycho-drama. So who knows?”

Resisting a wave of curiosity, she told him
firmly, “That’s exactly the kind of details you should be
exploring. With your friends. Or a priest or something. But not
with
me
because I’m a stranger. If Erica hadn’t dressed me
in that frontless jersey, we wouldn’t even be having this
conversation.”

He burst out laughing. “Erica did that?
Remind me to thank her.”

Tess laughed too. “You two are perfect for
each other. And the good news is, if
you
get Erica,
I
get Big John.”

“Big John?”

“I’ve got dibs.”

Sean’s green eyes sparkled. “This is fun,
right? Taking it slow. Just like you wanted. I’m on board, Tess, I
promise.”

She stared at him, wondering if he knew how
hopeless he was. Dating the wrong people, and now joking about his
best friend’s wife like it was the most natural thing in the
world.

“You’re such a mess, Sean,” she said without
thinking.

“Yeah, I know,” he murmured. “But I’m working
on it.”

They sat in silence for a while, and to
Tess’s surprise it wasn’t awkward, or at least not exactly. He had
a lot of thinking to do, and in his own way, he was smart to talk
to a bartender about it.

The question was, was
she
smart? Could
she be his confidante without falling for him? He had that hypnotic
quality to him. Relaxing her. Soothing her. While all the while,
getting her wet.

“I should probably go,” she said softly.

“Whatever you say.” He stood then waited for
her to do likewise before he said cheerfully, “Next time we’ll do
shoes and Hawaii.”