Playing for Kicks (Play Makers Book 5) (48 page)

“You’re sweet to see her side of it. It
started off so innocently, believe it or not. So romantic—” She
broke off, clearly regretting the comment. “Romantic but doomed.
Right from the start. That’s the truth, Tess.”

“I was just curious, really, because you’re
right. I think of Riga as the coach, not Coz Cosner. He’s just the
ex to me. So I totally missed that layer of melodrama.”

“That’s the perfect word for it,” Rachel
agreed. “I’m so glad it’s over. Especially now. Seeing him with
you.”

“The last piece of the puzzle,” Tess agreed
lightly.

“Exactly!” Rachel gave her a fond hug.
“Thanks for today, Tess. I feel like we’re real friends now, not
just friends-in-law, if that makes sense.”

“It makes sense. And it means a lot.”

“You know what would make it official?”
Rachel asked, her blue eyes twinkling. “Pie.”

“Thank God you said it first,” Tess said with
a fond smile. “I’m
starving
again. Let’s just hope the guys
left some for us.”

• • •

Over pie, Bam mentioned getting together the
next weekend for drinks before “the big party at the Ashton,” and
Sean explained to Tess, “He’s talking about a fundraiser for
literacy. I made a donation but didn’t buy tickets because I was
seeing Kerrie back then and I knew she’d never go. So we’re out of
luck.” His green eyes twinkled. “So let’s go to Hawaii instead.
We’ve put it off long enough.”

“Hey!” Bam protested. “We want you guys
there. Riga’s coming, you know. He’ll want to meet Bammie since
she’s so
cool
. And you want to meet him too, don’t you,
Bammie?”

When Tess gave an absentminded nod, Sean
murmured, “Are you sure? These things are boring as hell. But Murf
can probably get us tickets.”

“You should come, Tess,” Rachel urged her.
“Keep me company. And meet the new coach.”

“Yeah, and wear that red Hawaiian thing
again,” Bam said with a grin. “Man, you looked hot.”

“She can’t wear that,” Rachel scolded him,
adding to Tess, “It’s formal. I’m sure Erica can lend you something
since there’s no time to shop. No one cares what you wear anyway.
We just want you there.”

When Tess nodded again, Sean agreed to call
Murf in the morning, but she could see his heart wasn’t in it. He
wanted to go to Hawaii. And she loved him for that.

But the timing felt off, Kerrie-wise, and
until she figured that out, a crowded, impersonal fundraiser seemed
like a safer bet.

“You can go to Hawaii anytime,” Bam told him.
“We’ll go with you.”

“I don’t remember asking,” Sean said with a
laugh. “No offense, Rachel.”

Rachel smiled and snuggled against her
fiancé. “I think he’s kicking us out, sheriff.”

Bam grinned. “Sheriff, huh? I always like the
sound of that.” Shrugging to his feet, he pulled Rachel into his
arms, then told Tess, “Best meal ever. Thanks for having us.”

“I loved it,” she admitted, hugging them each
in turn.

“You poor thing, you’re exhausted,” Rachel
murmured. “We can see ourselves out. Sean? Take care of her. She
worked miracles today.”

“Every day,” he agreed easily, wrapping his
arm around Tess’s waist. “Thanks for coming, you guys. See you next
weekend.”

They walked their guests to the door, and as
soon as it closed, Sean scooped her up and insisted amorously,
“Let’s hit the sheets. I’ll rub your neck. Or your feet. Whatever
you want. You earned it with that amazing meal.”

“A foot rub sounds good. Or a bubble
bath?”

“Done.”

“Can you run it for me while I make sure the
food’s put away right? And I need to shut down my laptop.”

He eyed her with suspicion. “You’re not going
to clean, are you? That’s what I pay the housekeeper for.”

“I’ll be right up. I promise.”

He hesitated then set her down, kissed her,
and headed up the stairs. When he was out of sight, she wandered
over to her laptop.

It had never occurred to her to search for
Kerrie on the web, mostly because Kerrie was Sean’s past. Tess was
his future. And on a more practical level, she hadn’t known the
woman’s last name until now. So she had been content with the
glimpse she caught of the ex-girlfriend during Erica’s wedding
video.

Entering “Kerrie Cosner” in the browser, she
hoped to get a few hits. Instead, there were scores of them, all
featuring images of a truly photogenic woman. Petite and shapely,
she had platinum blonde curls and the world’s most innocent
expression. Like a well-endowed porcelain doll.

Tess literally gaped at her. Not that she was
beautiful on Rachel’s level. Or even Erica’s. But the blend of
vulnerability and sophistication seemed unique, especially when
paired with the impeccable wardrobe.

Wow.

Most of the photos were from NFL fundraisers
for which Kerrie had either been on the committee or the actual
chairwoman. In particular, she had raised enough donations in one
star-studded event in Florida to build a new wing on a children’s
hospital. Or at least, according to the press release.

So many glamour shots of the pretty blonde
dripping with jewels and clad in tasteful but clearly one-of-a-kind
gowns.

“Hey,” Sean murmured from behind her. “Why
are you looking at pictures of Kerrie?”

“I’m not,” Tess lied quickly. “I just wanted
to see what women wear to these NFL fundraisers. Like the literacy
one next Saturday. Hilariously, your ex keeps popping up. Like
she’s their poster child or something.”

“Oh, right.”

Trying for a light smile, she powered down
the laptop and closed the lid. “Is my bath ready?”

“Are you sure you want to go to that party?
They’re always duds.”

“I want to meet Daniel Riga. And I want to
wear one of Erica’s dresses, because let’s face it, she’s got
style. Oh, and I want my bubble bath. With
you
in it.”

“Good answer,” he told her, his smile cocky
again as he swept her off her feet and strode toward the
staircase.

Chapter
Fifteen

When Sean left the house at five a.m. on
Monday morning to fit in a workout before practice, he murmured
something romantic in Tess’s ear, wished her good luck for her last
shift at Zone D, and otherwise tried not to disturb her.

Any other morning, she would have stumbled
out of bed to keep him company, but brain fog kept her nearly
comatose. She knew he attributed her zombie-like state to all the
cooking, but as she burrowed under the covers she knew the
truth—she was still freaked out about him sleeping with his coach’s
wife. It shouldn’t have mattered, since Kerrie was out of his life
and Coz was no longer the coach.

But for some reason, it did.

It’s the shock,
she assured herself.
You’d feel the same way if you suddenly heard he dated a
Martian. Or a suspected serial killer.

But dating a Martian or even a crime suspect
didn’t carry the same kind of baggage. Rachel called it the
cardinal sin of football. In other words, a million times
worse.

Ordinarily, Tess would have grabbed her
sketchbook and figured this all out, but she had a huge day ahead
of her. An emotional day. Not only was it her last shift as a
bartender, but she had decided to pack up all the bobble heads, a
task that would surely take hours since each one held a unique
memory.

Ugh . . .

Shaking it off, she grabbed a can of cola,
moved the unassembled baby crib out of the RAV4 and into Sean’s
barn, and was on the road by seven. On her way north she stopped at
a home improvement store for boxes and bubble wrap, and by ten
thirty was hard at work.

As hoped, the nostalgia behind the bobble
heads kept her mind off Kerrie Cosner.

It had all started with a regular in Waikiki
who was moving stateside and needed a good home for his collection
of the starting five for the Sacramento Kings. He and Colbee had
spent countless hours rooting for those guys, so consigning the
toys to her custody had felt right.

She had displayed them proudly on the
mirrored shelves of that tiny beachfront bar, attracting more and
more gifts, all of which she added to the collection. When she
moved to Zone D, the collection came too and continued to grow.

A few times she even received a bobbling
figurine in the mail, thanks to an out-of-towner who had been stuck
away from home during an important game for his home team and
appreciated Colbee’s willingness to share his fandom for a few
hours, cheering lustily and insisting his team was the best team
ever.

And yes, packing them away made her sad, but
she had done this twice before, most recently when the collection
grew too large for Zone D and she brought it to the apartment over
Ed’s garage.

Now she wondered if she would ever lay eyes
on them again.

As she worked, she made a mental list of
everything she needed to do ASAP. At the top was choosing a job at
Rorsch Enterprises. She didn’t actually need it since the advance
check from
Sports Illustrated
would tide her over nicely.
But with Erica’s pregnancy in the mix, she wanted to be a good
friend. And Carlos Rorsch’s offer to be his personal protégée was
deserving of some consideration as well, wasn’t it?

In any case, she would move to Portland
within the week, and so she needed to decide whether to extend her
stay at the Ashton, find an inexpensive studio apartment in
Portland, or move in with Sean right away.

The next item on her to-do list was her lunch
date with Ed the editor and his wife so she could break the news
that she would be moving out. They had had this talk a couple of
times lately, but only as a hypothetical.

Now it was really going to happen. They would
be upset, and on a more practical note, they needed to advertise
the vacancy.

After lunch, she would head over to Zone D,
work a great shift, comfort Ed the owner, and pump up her friend
Victoria, whose own bartending career would begin Tuesday evening.
She wanted Tess there for moral support, threatening to have a
meltdown if she wasn’t.

So the issue became: would Tess really wake
up Tuesday morning and drive down to Portland for book club with
Erica, then drive back in time for Victoria’s debut?

To her relief, Erica herself solved that
problem by calling just before lunch.

Her friend’s voice was warm and apologetic.
“I’m on my way to the airport, so we can’t have book club tomorrow.
Hopefully we can re-sched for the end of the week.”

“No problem. I’m swamped too, believe it or
not. And I just heard about this literacy fundraiser. So if I could
borrow a fancy dress, that would be amazing.”

“I’ll
buy
you a dress! I know the best
shop in Portland. They always come through for me. And if not, then
absolutely, you can borrow one of mine. Let’s pencil it in for
Friday, okay? I’ll take the afternoon off.”

Tess wanted to insist that a borrowed dress
was more than adequate, but images of Kerrie in her sumptuous
one-of-a-kind gowns silenced her. Not that she wanted to compete
with Sean’s ex, especially since Tess had already won. But still,
it would do her ego good.

“Thanks, Erica. Now let me sing to my
godchild.”

“Excuse me?”

Tess laughed. “Phone meets belly. Just do
it.”

“Okay, but you’re nuts.”

Pleased, Tess sang three verses of “Old
MacDonald Had a Farm”—the cow, the horse, the lamb—until Erica cut
her off with a laugh. “I could listen to you all day but I’ve got a
flight to catch. Thanks again for the yummy meal, Tess. You really
outdid yourself. Bye!”

“Bye,” Tess murmured.

It bothered her that she had felt competitive
with poor Kerrie, even for a second. Just picturing Sean’s face
when he talked about her these days said it all—he had dodged a
bullet and would never make the same mistake again.

“But he was willing to quit football for
her,” she reminded herself stubbornly. “So when it was good, it
must have been really,
really
good.”

Annoyed, she focused on the here and now,
specifically Victoria. Their styles were radically different, and
the classy brunette could surpass Colbee one day with a hot
identity of her own. Maybe as a benevolent dominatrix? With men
eating out of her hand? Absolutely.

But not if she burst into tears her first
night.

Luckily, Tess could help just by being there.
So she called Sean, knowing it would roll to voice mail since he
was hard at work
not
kicking the ball.

She felt a pang of regret when she said,
“Hey, Romeo, it’s me. I know we said I’d be home tomorrow, but
Erica just canceled book club, and Victoria’s stressing about her
new gig, so I need a few more days. Which is good because I can
pack the bobble heads, right? I’ll miss you, but I’ll get
Ed-the-bouncer to cover as Ed-the-bartender for a few minutes
during my shift so I can call you for phone sex—oops, I mean a
heartfelt chat. Around seven? And tomorrow night I can talk longer.
So just know I’m thinking about you. Bye, surfer dude.”

• • •

The angst over Kerrie continued unabated, but
at least it developed a rhythm.

It always started with a sinking feeling that
Sean had been so madly, hopelessly in love with his ex he had been
willing to quit football for her. Then she would remind herself how
miserable he had been toward the end. The self-described nightmare.
Most poignantly, she remembered his reaction after their first
round of lovemaking in San Francisco, when he had been truly
grateful for his second chance at love.

Meanwhile, as the cats watched with feigned
disinterest, she painstakingly packed the bobble heads, one by one.
More than a hundred of them. She could put them in storage or
donate them to a children’s home or hospital. Maybe even the one in
Florida where Kerrie’s fundraising had built an entire wing.
Wouldn’t that be karma gone wild?