Playing the Game (46 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Queen

BOOK: Playing the Game
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Then she looked over at Bonnie. Bonnie’s face was unreadable, but Roxanne sensed some recognition in the woman of the inevitable.

“Still as impulsive as ever, I see?” Bonnie shook her head. “Looks like I ought to buy that plane ticket sooner than later.”

 

 

Roxanne pulled out of the parking garage of the high-rise condo where Laura used to live. This was it. Al said the papers were ready to sign to sell the house. Somehow that act would have even more finality to it than her victory at the probable cause hearing.

The juices in her stomach kicked in as she pulled onto the highway heading north of Boston. Even though she complained to Al at first, she supposed it was fitting that she return to the scene of the crime one last time. She would go back to the house to sign it away. She hadn’t been back since the day after she accepted the offer. She packed a few personal things and the movers had done the rest.

Bonnie didn’t hesitate to move back to Chicago. Her departure had been painful, but Roxanne felt relieved at the same time. She could no longer afford to depend on the old woman, nor could she afford to support her. And Bonnie needed some rest. The ordeal of the last six months had taken a toll on the older woman.

At the airport, Bonnie’s parting words were, “You’ll feel relief soon. With me gone, it’ll be like having a thorn removed from your side.” Roxanne smiled now, remembering.

Pulling off the highway onto the coastal route to Marblehead, she turned on the radio. She needed the distraction as she got closer. Her palms were getting sweaty. She laughed out loud at herself.

The radio was tuned to an all sports station. The sportscaster announced that the Celtics were on a roll with Barry Dennis returning to better-than-ever form since he’d taken time off for his daughter’s surgery. “Now both father and daughter are doing well,” the man reported. “The Celtics are looking toward the play-offs with the question now being a matter of home court advantage.” Roxanne turned the radio off.

“Damn.” She swiped the lone tear from her cheek. She didn’t want to hear it, not even about Lindy anymore. She’d even gotten angry at Al the other day when he tried to tell her about the custody suit being dropped.

This was ridiculous. She pulled up along the side of the road in front of the house. Her house. Don’s house. She sat and blew her nose. She stared at the dashboard a minute then thought she ought to sell her car too. But no, she patted the steering wheel. This car was hers. It would serve as a reminder of who she was and where she’d been.

Not that she thought she’d ever need reminding.

She stepped from the car and walked around toward the back deck. She saw Barry’s car in the driveway. The dream came flooding back to her mind with irrational clarity and terror. Her heart pounded. Her hand flew to her neck. She couldn’t swallow.

Run Barry
. The words were trapped in her throat. But her legs began working again and she ran to the deck out back. Why was she running? Had she gone insane? What was Barry doing here? These questions crashed through her mind as she found herself bounding up the steps two at a time in her three-inch heels.

Then all at once she stopped. He stood leaning back against the rail, looking at her with a hard stare. She composed herself, or tried to, her heart still racing more from the sight of him than her run up the stairs. She realized she must look like a nut. She took some steps toward him.

“What are you doing here? I thought….” She gestured toward his car.

He raised a brow. “I’m buying the house.”

The pounding of her heart returned with a vengeance. His words made no sense.

He continued. “Al left the papers for us. You sign them and the money is yours.” He paused, watching her. His face was that unreadable mask she’d grown to love and despise at the same time. She remained mute. Her mind was a blank. Drinking in the sight of him was all she could manage.

“You can still live here if you want. That’s why I’m buying it …” Now he was the one who’d run out of words.

“But I don’t want this house. I was looking forward to getting rid of it finally.” The words rushed from her mouth the moment she understood. “I mean, it’s a kind and generous gesture…” She realized how ungracious she’d sounded. Her palms began to sweat even in the chilly air.

“That bad, eh?” He seemed to want to say more. He stood up from the railing and stepped close to her then.

She looked up into those vivid blue eyes and felt her heart pop into her mouth, filling her with emotion. He looked vulnerable.

“Come inside,” he said, like he owned the place.

“Are you really buying the house for me?” She paused when he would have moved them inside.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you’d already moved out. I tried calling.” He pulled his arm around her. His eyes were wide with pain, his look more vulnerable than she’d ever seen.

“Why?”

“Because I want you back. I bought the house for us.” The admission seemed to cost him.

Her first instinct was to shut down the rioting emotions that threatened to drown her with hope and go back to her safe game. Her first urge was to scoff at him, but she bit her tongue and violently pushed herself past that point. It was easy when she kept her focus on his face. His face held the look she never even dreamed she’d see on a man’s face. But she needed one last reassurance.

“No games?”

“No games.” He half-smiled

“Totally vulnerable?” She pushed.

“Completely naked.” He quirked his half-smile. “Always have been where you were concerned. I’ve been fooling no one but myself.” He got serious again. “The team’s been winning, I’ve been playing great, Lindy’s been improving steadily. She and I are starting to feel like we belong to each other, but there’s been something missing. For Lindy, it’s her mother. I’ve been doing what I can to help, but there’s really nothing to do—except be her father.”

“And for you? What’s missing?”

“You.”

“Because you need a mother for Lindy?” She had to ask. She held her breath.

He pulled her inside the French door into the empty kitchen. He shut the door and pulled her against him as he leaned against the counter. She fell into him and his heat scorched her even through their clothing. He raised her chin until she could only stare into his eyes.

“The truth is, I love you. The truth is, I also can’t see any other woman being a better mother to Lindy.” He paused. His mouth twitched with his tension.

She licked her lips. She’d desperately wanted to hear these words, but it wasn’t so easy to believe.

“But I want you first and foremost for myself. All to myself. Forever. Call me a selfish bastard, but I don’t want to share you. I don’t want you to belong to someone else—not even to yourself. I want you for mine.” He stopped and took a breath.

She felt as if he’d sucked in all the air right from her lungs. Her mind spun and she struggled to get back on familiar footing. These were words she heard over and over from besotted men whose love she didn’t return. What now? Now she wanted the same from him, but that’s not what he was offering. He only spoke about taking.

“And what do I get from you? Should I settle for what’s left after Lindy and basketball?” She spoke in a sure voice that she didn’t feel. Her insides quaked with fear at what his answer might be, and at her own decision. Holding steady for one more moment she said, “What makes you think you can give me what I need?”

He clenched his jaw. “Nothing. I’m hoping you’ll take that risk.” His face turned stony. Old defenses were tough to crumble.

She said nothing. She looked away. The quaking caught up to her and she could no longer trust her voice not to give her away. He’d asked her to take a big risk. Could she picture herself going for it? The better question, she realized, was could she picture herself
not
going for it? A vision of herself alone and old like Bonnie came to mind. She shuddered. He held her tighter as he waited for her answer.

Then she looked up at him with a slight smile, nothing left to say.

He spoke instead. “If you had any idea how sweaty my palms were right now you’d have mercy on me and tell me you’ll marry me.” He’d always known when to capitalize on his advantage. But he withheld his smile.

“Sweaty palms? You? Mechanical men don’t sweat.” She raised her chin and gave him a squint of skepticism.

“Had to take one last shot, eh?”

She laughed and felt her tension dispelled at once. “If you expect to marry me, then you should expect that this isn’t going to be the last shot you’ll have to take.”

He bestowed her with his signature half-smile and beguiling dimple now. “Can I interpret that as a yes, or do you plan to quit hedging and give me a straight answer?” He straightened and eased her from him to give them space as if he knew her answer would be forthcoming and momentous.

Her stomach lightened considerably until it felt like a helium balloon trying to escape through her throat. She concentrated on breathing and attempted a smile. “That was a short-lived case of nerves. Can’t keep an arrogant man down, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t think you’d want to,” he said raising his eyebrows.

She laughed and felt warmth spreading through her.

He put his hands on her hips. It wasn’t her imagination that his movements were tentative, as if he thought she’d turn and run at any second. And his palms really were sweaty. She stared into his eyes. They were glossy and open with that vulnerability she’d never gotten more than a glimpse of before today.

She spoke at long last. “I want to marry you more than anything else in the world. I’m in love with you. And I’m in love with your daughter. I don’t know how to be a wife and mother—any more than you know how to be a husband and father.” She smiled. “But I want to do it more than anything in the world. I want to have it all with you. Only you.”

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. The envelope of heat from his body surrounded her in the most exquisitely comforting feeling she could ever recall having. This must be what all those couples in love felt like, and she never knew. She’d longed to know and now she did.

She understood as she let her lids slide closed that this was different, better. Lowering his head toward hers, his mouth near her lips, he spoke with a taut voice. “I love you. You’ll have whatever you want from me. I’m trusting you not to take it all.”

The words washed over her with a pleasure she’d never known. She marveled and sighed. She opened her eyes and looked at this man. “I can’t believe I fell in love with you in spite of everything. In spite of my best intentions and my skepticism. I won’t take anything I wouldn’t give you first. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She meant it when she said it. She realized now how afraid she’d been that she couldn’t make that promise.

“I’ll miss our game.” There was no wistfulness in his voice, but there was a dimple in one cheek. He kissed her then. He gave her a kiss that she wished would go on forever.

 

###

Dear Reader,

 

Thank you for taking the journey with me through the story of Roxanne and Barry. I sincerely hope you enjoyed your moments of escape into their world. I would love to hear any comments you have. I invite you to contact me via my website
www.StephanieQueen
.com. You can also follow me on Twitter @StephanieQueen or on Facebook on my Stephanie Queen page.

If you loved the story, please consider leaving a review on the site where you purchased this book. I would very much appreciate it and if you let me know about your review, I will send you a coupon to purchase my next release
The Hot Shots
.
The Hot Shots
is due out in the summer of 2012.

 

Sincerely,

Stephanie Queen

 

Excerpt from Stephanie Queen’s,
The Hot Shots
:

 

Chapter 1

 

“I have a favor to ask. I need you to pick up David’s latest recruit at Logan Airport today and keep him busy for the day. Show him around,” Grace said from behind her desk and although she appeared to be her usual bubbly self, Sophia felt the urge to applaud her boss’s performance at playing innocent. Instead, she played along.

“You can’t be serious?” she said. “You’re asking me for a favor on the eve of my possible career breakthrough? That’s crazy talk. Tomorrow’s the shoot for the
Decorating Boston
audition.” Sophia knew that Grace knew this since Grace helped set it up for her, but she felt it was worth mentioning however obvious. A “favor” for one’s boss, even if she was one’s best friend always needed to be taken as seriously as an order.

“Yes. I know.  And a distraction is exactly what you need to keep your nerves at bay.”

“My nerves are fine.” If her dam voice hadn’t squeaked at that moment, she’d have been more convincing. Something was up. And Sophia would never admit it to Grace, but she did feel a bit edgy—if edginess included nausea, headaches and sleeplessness.

“I know you.” Grace paused and gave her the serious yet loving older-sister type look. “This will be good for you and…and I’d really appreciate it.”

Grace was playing dirty pool now with that appreciation bit, but Sophia still didn’t buy it. “And what if I didn’t have time today?  Were you going to tear me away from my project?”

“Actually, yes.  I wasn’t going to mention it, but some of the men were complaining about your presence at the site and asked me to have you back off just a smidge.” Grace crinkled her face. “But don’t worry, they think you’re wonderful. It’s just lately...”

“Great. That’s great. I got painters and paperhangers and carpenters talking to my boss behind my back.” This was not good. She plopped herself onto the edge of Grace’s desk and folded her arms. She tried staring at the stack of fabric samples on the other side of the office so Grace wouldn’t notice if a tear slipped out. Because, damn it, she felt dangerously on the edge of crying.

Grace picked up the box of tissues and handed it to her. “You’ll be alright, Pixie honey. This is the perfect way to get your mind off everything to do with decorating and the design show audition and TV cameras. I’m asking for a one-day one-shot favor.”

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