Blitzing Emily (23 page)

They moved into the living room, which had overstuffed furniture in dark green patterned upholstery. A heavy-looking wood-and-glass coffee table sat in front of a gas fireplace. More framed family photos leaned against the opposite wall. A folk-art painting of what looked like Tuscany leaned against the wall over the mantelpiece. It all looked comfortable, but there was an air of the unfinished. Brandon either didn’t spend a lot of time at home, or he wasn’t big on hanging pictures.

“I love that,” Emily said. She nodded at the painting.

“I was told I needed something bright for when it’s gray outside.”

He led her down the hallway to a door he opened with a flourish. “This is my room.”

This, too, was nothing like she had expected. The king size bed was of more maple, a simple design with a Mission-style headboard and no footboard. She imagined his feet hanging over this bed the way they hung over the edge of hers. The sheets and pillowcases were navy blue. The whole thing was covered with a quilt in varying prints, but predominantly in shades of blue. Another quilt was folded lengthwise and spread across the foot of the bed.

It looked cozy and comfortable. Emily resisted the impulse to crawl inside.

The nightstand had a stack of books, a cordless telephone in a base, and a clock radio. Her roaming gaze caught a professionally framed photo of Brandon on the wall. He stood in what appeared to be an end zone, his arms over his head, holding a football.

She pointed at it. “You have the ball.”

“I picked off Denver’s quarterback on a tip drill and ran it into the end zone last year.”

“Good job, bruiser. That’s a touchdown, right?” He grinned at her as he nodded. “It’s nice in here,” she said.

“There’s nothing pink or ruffly,” he said.

“I could fix that for you.” Emily touched the quilt at the foot of his bed. “This is gorgeous.”

“My grandma McKenna made it for me.” He indicated an open door on the other side of his room. “I had a jetted tub put in the bathroom last year.”

The upstairs of Brandon’s house boasted two large skylights and the steepest staircase she’d ever encountered.

“I sleep up here when my parents come to town. It’s easier for me to get up and down the stairs than it is for them. Dylan stays here, too.”

There was more of the simple overstuffed furniture Brandon seemed to like, along with a window seat that showed off the gorgeous lake view. Emily spied an office and another half bath at the other side of what must have been a former attic.

Emily heard a faint “Meow,” and a very large brown tabby cat jumped off the window seat to wind around Brandon’s ankles.

“Hey, buddy.” He reached down and gave the cat a pat on the head. “Decided you’d wake up and join us. This is Deacon,” he explained. “He’s part of the reason Greg hangs around here. When I’m on the road, I don’t worry that he’s going to starve or run away.”

“Interesting name for a cat.”

“His name is really Deacon White, but we call him Deacon for short. Deacon White was the best defensive end to ever play the game, sugar.”

Emily tapped one finger on her chin. “So, he played the same position you do.”

“You get a gold star for that football knowledge. I’m proud of you.” He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. She reached out for his hand, while inching her other hand toward the cat.

“Maybe he’ll let me pet him.”

“You might want to rethink that. He’s ferocious.” Nothing could have been further from the truth. Deacon stood on his hind legs and pawed at her. He wanted to be picked up.

“I want to have a pet, but I’m gone so much, it would never work,” she said. Deacon cuddled against her, and with a soft “Mew” he laid his head on Emily’s cheek.

“Hey, Deacon, back off. Get your own woman.”

“Does he sleep in your room?”

“Of course not,” he smirked. Emily remembered the plush cat bed in one corner of Brandon’s bedroom.

Deacon rubbed his face against Emily’s.

“I get a woman in my house, and the first thing she does is go for the cat,” Brandon said.

Emily set the cat down on the floor, and Deacon regarded her with an injured expression in his amber eyes. “I know. I’ll be back another time,” she told him. She glanced up at his owner. “We probably need to leave for Damian’s.” They descended the stairs, and she picked up her handbag. “Maybe I should drive.”

“We don’t need the car.”

“He must be close,” Emily said as they walked outside.

“You could say that. He’s right across the street.”

Emily glanced up, spotting Damian standing on a deck that overlooked Brandon’s house.

“Hey, dawg,” Damian shouted. “Get your ass over here or the steak’s going to burn. Hey, pretty lady.”

Emily waved at him in response.

He continued talking as they made their way across the street. “I got some tickets to go see you in that—what the hell is it—Der, die, something.”

“Die Fledermaus,”
she explained. “You’re going to Cincinnati? That’s wonderful.” Emily clapped her hands.

Damian pulled the front door open as Emily and Brandon reached the doorstep and threw his arms around her. “There she is.”

She hugged him back. “It’s good to see you, too. I can’t believe you’ll be at the performances in Cincinnati!”

“It’s really hard to get tickets to see you perform around here now,” Damian complained.

“I’m not singing here till later in the season, but I could get you some tickets to one of Seattle Opera’s upcoming performances. It’s not
Die Fledermaus
, but you might like it.”

“I want to go if you’re singing,” Damian assured her.

“I’m standing here. Stop trying to pick up on my fiancée,” Brandon told him.

“He sounds jealous,” she murmured to Damian.

“Damn straight, love.” Damian did an elaborate handshake with Brandon. He turned to Emily again, and slid his arm around her shoulders. “Maybe you should go out with me instead. I’ll hook you up. Cornerbacks and safeties are the real men of any football team. He must have told you this.”

“He’s getting mad,” Emily said.

“He knows I speak the truth, baby.”

Brandon rolled his eyes. “I hope you invited the young lady you were flirting with yesterday at lunch,” he said.

“Of course I did. She should be here soon. In the meantime I have to chat with my pretty lady. Listen, girl, I bought some of those opera beats you told me about. They’re sick.”

Brandon took Emily’s hand, tugged her over to the couch, and pulled her onto his lap. Damian laughed, and went out onto the deck to check the food on the grill.

Emily looped one arm around his neck. “Should I ask him if I can help with anything?”

“No.”

Damian’s house made Brandon’s look tiny. The front door led into a soaring entryway with a large crystal chandelier. The living room was up a flight of stairs, and opened onto the deck, which had the same view Brandon’s did. Damian’s living room appeared big enough to park a Humvee in. The décor was formal, and appeared to be done by a professional. It was beautiful, but Emily preferred the simplicity and coziness of Brandon’s house.

Two men and two women in server garb emerged from the kitchen with trays of food, arranging the platters on a long table set up against the far wall. One of the women approached Brandon and Emily for a drink order.

“Hey, Damian,” Brandon called out. “You said this was just us.”

“Gotta’ feed everyone.”

“He caters a backyard barbecue,” Brandon muttered. “Now everyone will expect me to do it, too.”

“What does he mean by ‘everyone’?” she said into Brandon’s ear.

“Let’s find out. Drake,” Brandon called out, “How many is ‘everyone’?”

“Dawg, everyone.”

Brandon let out a groan. “He invited the team, along with whoever it is they’re married to or going out with. You’ll probably see an awful lot of single women.”

“You probably have parties as well.”

“Mine are smaller,” Brandon said. “Plus, the police don’t typically make an appearance.”

Two hours later, Damian’s house was so crowded that it was impossible to move across the room. Emily gave up counting the people she saw after a hundred. Brandon introduced her to his teammates and others he knew, but it was overwhelming. They couldn’t get near the food. The alcohol was flowing, though, and they both had a few drinks. Emily decided to visit the bathroom, and came back a few minutes later to find Brandon missing.

Brandon was completely at home here. She wasn’t. She had a much better idea how he must have felt at the opera benefit, especially when she noticed two women on Damian’s deck staging an impromptu Shark Babes tryout. They wore nothing but thongs with Sharks logos on them. She liked to have fun, but she preferred something quieter with the possibility for conversation.

Emily needed some fresh air. Mostly, she wanted to get away from crowds of people and the blasting sound system. Maybe Brandon had wandered outside, too. She found herself in the backyard; it was a beautiful June evening. As she rounded the side of the house, she saw Brandon on one knee next to a little dark-haired boy. She heard sobs. Brandon laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. She stepped behind a lilac bush, not wanting to startle the little boy more.

“I might not find him,” the boy said. “He’ll be hungry. He doesn’t know where his mom is.”

“Another mama frog will help him, buddy.”

“All I did was let him out of the ’tainer for a few minutes. He must be in the grass.”

“They’re pretty good at hiding.”

“They can hop pretty fast, too.” Emily heard the boy hiccup, another little-boy sob, and he rubbed his eyes with what looked like grimy fists. Brandon patted him on the back.

“Simon, your mama and dad are going to wonder where you went. I’m going to take you back to your house, and I’ll keep looking for Froggy.”

“My mom and dad went out to dinner. Madison’s babysitting me.”

“I’ll bet she’s scared, too, because she doesn’t know where you are. We’ll take you home, and I’ll find your frog. I’ll make sure he gets back to you.”

“But he doesn’t know you.”

“That’s true. He might come to me, though, because he’ll know I want to bring him back. I think it’ll work.”

Simon let out a long sigh. “Maybe.” He glanced up into Brandon’s face. “Do you know how to take care of frogs?”

Emily heard Brandon’s low chuckle. “My brother and I spent a lot of time catching frogs when I was your age.” Emily saw him looking under the plants in the garden as he spoke. He appeared to be searching for the frog. “We used to bring snakes in the house and put them in the clean laundry basket. My mama screamed.”

“You caught a snake! Did they bite?”

“Aww, not these ones. We weren’t supposed to be in the swamp, but we went there anyway. You probably do some stuff you’re not supposed to do, too.”

“I snuck out of the house,” Simon informed him proudly.

“Let’s make a deal.” Brandon patted him on the back, and waited till Simon looked into his eyes again. “It’s really fun to do stuff you’re not supposed to, but sometimes it’s not a great idea. I know you came over because you wanted to talk to Damian. You need to tell an adult where you’re going. It’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark by yourself.” Brandon was still looking around the plants in the garden, but he turned back to ruffle Simon’s hair. “If you’ll agree to do this, we can look for some frogs. Or, we can play catch.”

Simon thought for a moment. He shifted his weight onto one foot, then the other.

“Can you play football with me?”

Emily heard Brandon’s laugh. “Sure. I’ll play football with you. Maybe Damian will want to play, too.”

“Yeah!” Simon punched the air with a small fist. “That’ll be fun.”

“Let’s get you back home, then. My fiancée’s probably wondering where I am.”

“What’s a fiancée?”

Brandon got to his feet and took Simon’s hand. “That means we’re getting married.”

“Oh.” Simon thought about this for a moment. “Is she pretty?”

“She is. She’s nice, too. I bet you’d like her.”

“I like girls who like frogs.”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask her.” Brandon and Simon moved off toward the sidewalk in front of Damian’s house. Maybe it was best if Brandon showed up at the neighbor’s house with her, too. It was time for Emily to make an appearance.

“Hey, guys,” Emily said, as casually as possible.

“There she is.” Brandon held out his other hand. “Sugar, this is Simon. We’re looking for his lost frog. Simon, this is Miss Emily.”

Emily shook Simon’s hand. He gave her a gap-toothed grin and her heart melted. The three of them walked down the sidewalk. “Sugar, do you like frogs?” Simon said.

There was laughter in Brandon’s voice. “You’re flirting with my girl.”

Simon looked up at her expectantly.

“Well, I haven’t seen that many frogs in my life. Maybe you could show me one,” Emily told him.

“If Brandon finds my frog, you can play with him.”

“I’ll do my best, buddy.” Brandon was leading them up the walk to another impressive home a few houses down from Damian’s. “Let me do the talking,” he told Simon.

B
RANDON SHOOK HIS
head and glanced back at Simon’s house with a fond smile.

“I looked all over Drake’s backyard. He’ll be disappointed if I don’t find another one.” Brandon unlocked the front door of his house, tugging Emily inside. “Let’s get a jar or something, and we’re set.” He pulled open the refrigerator door in his kitchen, dumped the contents of a jar of pickles into the sink, rinsed it, and jabbed several holes in the lid with a fork. “C’mon,” he said as he stuck his keys into his pocket. “I’ll bet you’ve never had a guy take you to a swamp before.”

“You’re really doing this,” she said. He reached into a kitchen drawer for a flashlight.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“I haven’t had a drink in two hours now. I also wouldn’t get behind the wheel if I wasn’t.” He reached out for her hand again. “Ready to go?”

Brandon parked his Land Rover a short distance from a swamp a couple of miles from his house. He handed her the flashlight.

“This is how it’s going to go. Tilt this up so I can see, but not so much that it scares them off.”