Wanted Distraction (7 page)

With a sigh, I realized my creativity waned severely. I typically had my finger on the pulse of Scottsdale events and activities, but I couldn’t conjure anything exciting currently happening. Rather, my mind was on football. And naked limbs twined together.

Exasperated, I kept driving—right out of town. I took the Loop 101 to the I-17 and headed north, the breeze stirring my hair around my shoulders, though not blowing too badly because of the wind guard behind me. About and an hour and a half later, I was in a cooler climate, though it was still quite lovely and refreshing. I took the 89A exit and wound my way through the scenic Oak Creek Village and the red rock canyons of Sedona.

My mother lived on a golf course in the area, with breathtaking views of the unique red rocks rising up all around her house. Her back patio was the most relaxing place I’d ever been, even beating out a day at the spa. As I pulled into her intricately designed driveway, decorated with pavers, a small measure of my anxiety eased. I snatched my purse from the passenger seat and got out of the car. She was home, as I’d expected. My mother was a brilliant artist and spent most of her time in her home studio, which overlooked the backyard filled with lush foliage, vibrant flowers, ponds and tall, mature trees, all serving as a beautiful foreground to the canyon in which her upscale community sat.

She and my father had split up when I was in junior high, and my brothers and I had stayed in Scottsdale with our dad, since we didn’t want to attend new schools. But we spent the majority of the summers and other vacations in Sedona, with Mom. She knew all about my obsession with Carter, so she’d understand the hell I was in. Though, I didn’t really intend to tell her about my night with him. In the light of day, propositioning him the way I had seemed a bit tawdry. Not that I’d go back and change what I’d done, but still…

I rang the bell so as to not startle her by barging in. She wouldn’t be expecting me during the week.

“
Bon jour, mon petit chou!
”she said as she pulled open the ornate door with splashes of turquoise, bronze and copper on the raised wood design.

Did I mention my mother was eccentric?

I gave her a quick hug and said, “Someday you’ll stop calling me that, I’m sure of it.”

She laughed “Never!”

Mon petit chou
meant “my little cabbage”. I’d had a large head as a child, until my body caught up—well, relatively speaking, since I was still short and compact. But my mother had never ditched the term of endearment. Worse, my brothers had always called me Shoe. They weren’t the least bit cultured and couldn’t speak French, so they didn’t know how to spell the word correctly. But Shoe, spelled incorrectly, had always been better than cabbage. Or Tinkerbell.

Stepping into the foyer, I asked, “Am I interrupting?”

With her long, button-down chambray shirt over her jeans and white tank top, I suspected she was painting. Landscapes were her specialty.

“Not at all. I was just sifting through some photos I’ve taken before I dive in. Let’s go out back.”

I followed her through the house to the patio. She had dark brown rattan furniture with thick sienna-colored cushions and colorful throw pillows scattered all over the deep green grass and decorative patio. A tall waterfall in the far corner emitted a comforting sound that mingled with the Classical music softly playing in the background.

After dropping my purse on a bistro table, I sank into the cozy sofa under the bushy Fremont Cottonwood. I slipped out of my sandals and curled my toes in the lush grass. My mother had disappeared into the kitchen and came back minutes later, carrying a tray with a pitcher of iced tea, two glasses, a bowl of lemon wedges and my favorite chocolate-swirl Madelines. The spongy French dessert was one she’d learned to make while studying cooking in Paris one fall, and she always kept a fresh batch on hand.

The comfort food was welcomed, though a lump of emotion instantly swelled in my throat, due to the impending subject matter. I’d come here for a reason.

She set the tray on the glass-covered rattan coffee table and then settled beside me, patting my leg in her maternal way.

“What brings you by?” she asked.

My mother, Liz Westerly, was a striking redhead with bright green eyes and delicate features. She wasn’t much taller than me, but had a bit more substance to her. She stayed fit and active, and time had certainly been kind to her. I hoped like hell I’d age as gracefully as she had, because the fifty-four-year-old woman didn’t look a day over forty-five.

Pushing down the agony lodged in my throat, I said, “Just needed to clear my head. This is the best place to do it.”

She poured our tea and handed me a glass. “Tell me all about it.”

I sipped, then sighed. A full-on recap of my dilemma was really too depressing to face. “You remember Carter Davis, right?”

My mother let out a heavy, over-dramatic breath. “Do I ever. You were hopelessly in love with him. He was the only boy you ever talked about. Didn’t he take you to a dance?”

“No, but we did dance together once. At prom. Anyway, he’s been playing football since high school and just came back to Phoenix. We got together last night and it was incredible, but he has a lot of things on his mind and some serious issues with his career. I’m afraid I’ll screw him up if I continue to see him.” He’d said himself I’d derailed him, after all.

Following a sip of her tea, my mom asked, “Are you still in love with him?”

“That wasn’t love in high school. That was a mad crush.”

I shook my head at my own misery as I contemplated how my infatuation had never died. And how easily it had transcended adolescence and blossomed into something much more substantial with our reunion.

“My feelings for him never changed, never dimmed,” I said. “And when I saw him again… Oh, yeah. This is definitely love. He’s wonderful, Mom. In so many ways.”

She gave my words their due consideration, then played devil’s advocate, as she was prone to do. “Ten years is a long time to have feelings for someone you’ve never really dated.”

“I know. But I’ve always felt strongly about him. It’s relentless.”

“And how does he feel about you?”

One of the last things he’d said to me sprang to mind.

Cherish, I’ve always wanted you. It’s
always
been you…

A fresh batch of tears filled my eyes. “He wants me,” I told her.

“Well, then,” my mother said in her sweet voice. “Problem solved.”

I groaned. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” she asked. “If your father and I had truly been meant for each other, I would have supported his constant job-hopping and professional bumbling, and he wouldn’t have minded my eclectic style. The truth is, we were very good friends who had a child together. That first experience with Charlie went pretty well, so we decided to get married and have another baby, Christian. And then another. We could agree on how to raise you and your brothers, but that was all we really had in common.”

I thought of how my parents had treated each other, with kindness and respect. But there’d never been anything electric between them.

Venturing into unchartered territory, I asked, “Did you and Daddy even sleep together after I was conceived?”

“We shared the same bed, but that was the extent of it. There was no passion between us. I eventually realized that was something I wanted, and so did your father. Our divorce was an amiable one. We both knew we wanted more.”

My mom had actually met a great man several years ago whom she was hopelessly devoted to—and vice versa—though he was a commercial airline pilot, so he wasn’t around as much as she would like. Yet she was willing to suffer through his absence because she loved him so much. Lesson learned.

Now it was my turn to suck it up. “I can’t imagine wanting more than Carter,” I mumbled.

“Then why are you here, dear?” she asked with a motherly smile.

I finished my beverage and set my glass on the table. I reached for a Madeline and took a bite out of it as I contemplated my predicament. Then I said, “I told Carter I wanted to be supportive, not detrimental when it came to his career. It wouldn’t be easy to be with him during the most difficult and pivotal point of his life. But on the other hand, what if being there for him actually helps, not hinders him?”

“It all depends on how unwavering your love is, Cherish.”

I polished off the Madeline and wiped my hands with a napkin. Then I said, “Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Mom. I needed a different perspective.”

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re a good girl,
mon petit chou
. I want you to be happy. And if Carter Davis is the man for you, then don’t let him slip away.”

Advice I seriously needed to consider.

Chapter Four

Saturday night eventually rolled around. The week had seemed to drag by in slow motion. I couldn’t get motivated to do much more than scribble down a few story ideas as I scoured the Internet and newspaper for events or grand openings to cover. Even my ear-to-the-ground contacts couldn’t come up with anything to stir my interest.

I hadn’t spoken with Carter, nor had I read his letter. I wanted to let the night I’d spent with him, the things we’d said, and the pearls of wisdom my mother had imparted percolate in my head before I made any hasty decisions. Of course, it was altogether possible I didn’t have a decision to make. For all I knew, Carter could have written me to tell me I’d been right to leave his hotel room after we’d made love. That I’d been right to not pursue more with him.

It didn’t feel right to me, though. That was the bottom line. My heart and body ached for him. My very soul ached for him, it seemed. I couldn’t get his sexy smile and warm eyes out of my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at me, or the way he’d touched me. There had been an undeniable and captivating dynamic between us right off the bat. That unto itself held its own significance.

So when Taylor and I arrived at the US Airways Center for Carter’s first game with the Rattlers, my insides buzzed with excitement and nervous energy.

We had seats on the fifty-yard line, in the first row. I barely said a word to my friend as my anxiety mounted. The crowd of about seventy-five-hundred went wild when Fang rode in on his badass motorcycle. The Rattlers’ mascot, Stryker, and the Sidewinders Dance Team joined him. The pyrotechnics lit the field as a Van Halen song rocked the arena. I hadn’t been to this type of football game in years, and realized I’d missed the energetic and exhilarating vibe.

When the first quarter got underway, I clutched my purse tightly in my lap as I watched Carter, trying to see if he was having any trouble with his throwing arm. The best I could tell, however, was that he still delivered a strong and steady bullet into the hands of his receivers.

Taylor leaned over and whispered, “Damn, that boy has a nice ass.”

A blush tinged my cheeks. “Yes, he does.”

“I don’t think there’s a dry thong in the house.”

“Taylor!”

“Just saying.” She gave me a saucy look. “You’d be the envy of the arena if these women knew you’d slept with him.”

“And I just might shrivel up and die if he moves on and finds someone else to sleep with.”

That, of course, was the moment I made up my mind.

I suddenly couldn’t wait for the game to be over. Though it was fast moving, I was antsy to get out of my seat. When the final touchdown hit the scoreboard, Carter had led his new team to an impressive 64-32 victory, propelling the Rattlers into the top spot in their division.

I hadn’t realized so much was riding on this game. I’d thought it was just about Carter’s career. But the team had the potential to make it the national championship again, and they needed a quarterback of Carter’s caliber to help get them there.

As the team celebrated on the field, Taylor and I stood. Carter worked his way out of the huddle of football players who had surrounded him, clearly embracing his leadership and talent. He took a few steps away from the rowdy crowd and his gaze scanned the stands, landing on me. He’d known exactly where to look, after all.

I gave him a little wave as my heart fluttered. He, in turn, lifted his chin in acknowledgement of my presence.

Beside me, Taylor said, “That pretty much says it all.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I pulled my gaze from Carter and stared at my friend.

“He’s clearly capable of keeping his head in the game while you’re on his mind.”

I smiled at her. “Good point.”

We made our way to the locker room, along with dozens of other reporters. I was a bundle of nerves as I flashed my press pass and entered the room, my eyes immediately landing on Carter. He’d stripped off his jersey and shoulder pads and was chatting with the player next to him as I swooped in, trying to grab him before anyone else did. He was the hero of the hour, after all.

Stepping around a cameraman, he met me halfway across the room.

“Hey,” he said, a brilliant smile on his devastatingly handsome face. “You came.”

“Of course.”

“But you didn’t call me.”

My eyes narrowed. “Was I supposed to?”

Carter laughed. Shaking his head, he said, “You didn’t read my letter, did you?”

I hadn’t been able to bring myself to, though I desperately wanted to read it now.

I said, “I needed to see you first. Regardless of what you wrote, I wanted to see you once more before I read it.”

He raked a hand through his damp hair, then said, “Let me knock out some of these interviews and then we can talk.”

Reporters were clamoring around us, vying for his attention. I didn’t want to do my own interview in this mayhem, so I said, “Meet you at T. Cook’s?”

He gave me a pointed look, and I knew exactly what he wanted to say, but couldn’t in front of all of these people. “Okay. See you later.”

I dragged Taylor away from the half-naked football players and out into the corridor.

She said, “I’m seriously considering changing my specialty. I should be a sports reporter. Did you see the talent in there?”

“You’re not talking about the way they play, are you?”

“No, girlfriend, I am not.”

I laughed. “Might want wipe the drool from your mouth.”

She fanned herself with a hand. “I’m buying season tickets.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

* * * * *

I dropped Taylor at her condo and drove to the Royal Palms. I valet parked and wandered over to Carter’s suite, a strange mixture of wanting to rush and wanting to meander eating at me. My stomach was in knots, but my heart beat wildly. I had no idea what the turnout of our meeting would be, though I certainly hoped we were finally on the same page.

He didn’t answer when I knocked on his door, so I assumed he was on his way to the resort. I imagine it’d taken a bit of time to answer all the questions posed to him, so I settled into a comfortable chair at the black, wrought-iron table on his patio. The porch light was on, emitting a soft golden glow. It was then I decided to read his letter.

My Dearest Cherish,

The day I walked into the newsroom our senior year, you were wearing a pale pink sweater and jeans. Sparkly clips pulled the hair away from your face, and you were beautiful.

For the Homecoming dance, I’d wanted to ask you to go with me, but I’d been elected Homecoming King and had to take the Queen. You didn’t show up for the dance.

When we were at Kenny Donaldson’s Christmas party, you had on a red dress and a diamond necklace your mom had given you as a stocking stuffer. You had no idea you were standing so close to the mistletoe, and I wanted to kiss you. I would have had a good excuse, but you moved away too quickly, foiling my chance.

The Valentine’s issue of our paper contained song dedications, and I had anonymously dedicated one to you. You thought the dedication had come from Mike Linley, and so you said yes when he asked you to prom. I had wanted to ask you myself, but I always thought I overwhelmed you with my size.

For the Spring Fling celebration, I tried to tell you I’d been nuts about you since the day I’d walked into the newsroom, but you were the belle of that ball when our classmates nominated you Garden Pixie, or some such thing.

“Fairy,” I whispered as tears stung my eyes and my chest tightened. “They nominated me Garden Fairy.”

After reaching for a tissue in my bag, I continued reading.

You won and that meant you spent the entire evening with your royalty court. I never got the chance to dance with you that night.

Then our prom came along and you were still going with Mike. I went stag for one very good reason—hope. I knew Mike was a player, and I wanted to be at the dance to pick up the pieces if he ruined your evening. It didn’t happen until the end of prom, and I’ve always hated that I was right about him, because he hurt you. But I was grateful to get one dance with you. And one kiss. You disappeared so quickly, though, I couldn’t offer you a ride home. I thought I’d made a terrible mistake, and that kiss had been unwanted.

Can you see how much I remember about you, even ten years later? I never stopped thinking about you. I can even tell you exactly what you wore to prom. I can tell you how you looked on our graduation day. I remember it all.

What I’ve never been able to tell you is how much I have always respected and cared about you. Working with you on the paper helped me to see so many sides of you, Cherish. I loved each one from the beginning.

Now, you’ve come back into my life and I’ve—

I heard his footsteps on the patio. Pressing the sheet of paper to my chest, I stared up at Carter with misty eyes. “I’m not done. What are you trying to tell me in this letter?”

“Finish reading it.”

I shook my head. “I want to hear it in person. Straight from you.”

He took the chair across from me and leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. His gaze locked with my watery one.

“Forget everything I said the other night about you being a distraction,” he said. “It occurred to me that I’ve always thought of you. You’ve always been on my mind and you’ve never been a distraction. You’ve been sort of a beacon. A dream to follow. And when the opportunity to play in Arizona game up, I realized I’d never given up on that dream. When we made love, I knew the dream was one I had to keep chasing. No matter what.”

My heart melted. More tears crested the rims of my eyes. But I needed to be sure of what he was saying, what he was doing.

“I don’t want to cause you any trou—”

“You’re not going to,” he was quick to say. “Didn’t you see how I played tonight, knowing you were in the stands watching me? I can do that every week until the season is over, Cherish. I know it. What I can’t do is let you slip through my fingers one more time.”

“But—”

“Cherish,” he said, his eyes filled with emotion. “I love you. That’s what I’m saying.”

I gasped. Of all the fantasies I’d had of Carter, I’d never allowed myself to pretend he felt that way—or that someday he’d say those words to me. It had been too far a stretch. Until now.

“We’re meant for each other,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And you know it.”

I nodded, and managed to smile through my tears. “Yes. I do.”

He was out of his seat in the next instant. He pulled me from mine and wrapped his arms around me. “We’ll make this work.”

“After all this time… Those words are music to my ears.”

His look was a contemplative one as he said, “Maybe we had to grow individually before we could be together. We both had different goals when we were younger, but you know what? My career will end eventually—sooner than I’d like, but I can’t ignore that fact. What will be my next professional undertaking? Journalism, I hope. It’s a skill you helped me hone. And it’s something we’ll always have in common.”

“Maybe we could be jet-setting travel writers.”

He laughed softly at my joke. “Doesn’t matter. As long as we’re together.”

“
Finally
.”

He brushed the fat drops from my face and then bent his head. His lips were warm and soft as they touched mine, and I sighed contentedly, because I knew we’d finally arrived at the same place at the same time, with the same future on our minds.

His kiss was a tender one that left me weak in the knees. But when he pulled away, I managed to follow him into his hotel room.

I set my things aside, including the letter, and took his hand. I led him into the bedroom.

The first time we made love, there’d been an invisible hourglass with the sand rapidly running out. And very little hope Carter and I would ever find our way into a relationship. Tonight, however, I felt no pressure, no dark cloud looming, no ticking clock. What I did feel was a rush of excitement. An optimistic tingle down my spine. A heart full of hope…and love.

I released Carter’s hand and he immediately stripped off his jacket and tie. I then went to work on the buttons on his shirt, feeling as though I had all the time in the world to undress him and enjoy the view, but also experiencing a contradictory sense of desperation to quickly get him naked…again, so I could enjoy the view.

He was a powerhouse of a man, and I knew every single time I was alone with him, my hands roaming his wide, muscular chest and rigid abs, I’d marvel over how fantastically built he was. I’d also be completely and utterly swept away the fact he belonged to me. I didn’t doubt the new, solid connection between us. When he kissed me, it was in the way that branded me to him…for good. I felt it all the way to my toes. To the depths of my soul, even.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his. Although I was still fully clothed, his heat penetrated the material, and his tight embrace crushed me to him. I could have easily drowned in sexual bliss from his kiss alone. But he had so much more in mind.