Dare To Love Series: Daring to Chance It (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

With her eyes still closed, she rolled over, stretched out a hand to touch him, and found…empty space. Cool sheets where the warmth of a body had long since faded. Raising herself up on one elbow, she looked around the room. No sign of him, and his clothes were gone. Was he in the bathroom? No, the door was wide open, and the room was empty.

Throwing the covers back, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Little twinges accompanied her sudden movements, but she ruthlessly suppressed them. Where was he? Had he just left? She checked the nightstand and the dresser for a note but found nothing. Anger building, she prowled the room, looking for any place he might have left even a short good-bye message, but found nothing.

Lifting the receiver on the room phone, she started to call the front desk and ask for Mr. Perini’s room then slammed it down. She didn’t even know if he’d been staying in the hotel. Besides, if he hadn’t seen fit to at least say good-bye, why did she even want to talk to him?

Sarah plopped down on the bed again and ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. She could hardly believe it. The son of a bitch had left her. Walked out without even a thank you or any word at all. That asshole! Well, it served her right. Falling into bed like that with Beau Perini because she was left celebrating by herself? She’d have done better to go to bed with a bottle of wine.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Why did she continue to make stupid decisions where men were concerned. Would she never, ever learn?

She was probably another notch on the bedpost to him, another of those professional athletes who collected women like some people collected baseball cards. Well, fine. She didn’t need him, anyway. She had a life to get back to and a career to build. But if she ever saw the jackass again, he’d better look out because she’d never forget something like this.

Not ever.

Six years later….

Beau Perini scrubbed his hands over his face and raked his fingers through his unruly hair. Every bone in his body ached from yesterday’s practice, and he would have sold his soul for two more hours of sleep. But, with a three-year-old in the house, even with a nanny in place, early rising was the norm. Beau was determined his son would always come first, no matter the circumstances.

Coffee. That’s what he needed. In sweat pants and T-shirt, he made his way to the kitchen and the single-serving coffee maker.

“Hi, Daddy!”

Toby waved to him from his booster seat where he was entertaining his three-year-old self with a few pieces of dry cereal. Babs, the nanny, was at the sink—although, calling her a nanny barely covered what she did. She ran everything in the house, including him.

“Hi, yourself.” He bent down and kissed the little boy’s smooth forehead.

“Ceweal.” He held up one of the little circles. “Daddy have?”

Beau tried not to grimace. Right now nothing, not even the cereal, appealed to him. “Not this morning, son.”

Toby grinned. “Okay.” He popped the tidbit into his mouth.

Oh, to be so at ease with life, Beau thought. He took a mug from the cupboard and filled it with fresh coffee. The first sip scalded his tongue, but he didn’t care. It gave his energy cells a real good jolt.

“Toby needs some new clothes,” Babs told him. “I swear he grows one size a month. Anyway, I thought he and I could have a shopping party this afternoon.”

“Bless you.” He walked up beside her and kissed her cheek. “Don’t ever leave me. I’d fall apart.”

She laughed. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d get busy and find my replacement.”

“Impossible.” He nudged her to turn around so she could look at his face. “I don’t think there’s another person I’d say this to, but you’re irreplaceable.” When she merely flipped a hand at him, he shook his head. “I mean this. I have no idea what Toby and I would do without you. Especially—” He shook his head.

“Especially with the phone calls starting again?” she asked.

He nodded. “Especially with that.”

Babs scooped the eggs she’d been scrambling into a bowl, added a spoon, and carried it to the table where his little boy sat in his booster seat. Toby clapped his pudgy little hands and reached into the bowl. Without missing a beat, Babs lifted his hand, closed his fingers around the spoon, and sat down to police the meal.

“She’s been calling an awful lot lately,” Babs commented. “What does she want now?”

Babs had been with Beau and Toby ever since he’d tossed Lacey Everhart out of the house, filed for divorce, and received sole custody. He’d given her a more than generous financial settlement for a woman who’d spent the nights he was gone screwing any available male. She’d bitched like crazy because it was paid to her monthly instead of a lump sum, but he knew otherwise she’d have blown it all. Exactly the way she was doing now.

“I think she’s run out of guys to pay the freight,” Beau said, taking a healthy swallow of his coffee.

“You know,” Babs pointed out, “you don’t have to take her calls. You can let them go to voice mail, or I can pick up.”

“I want to make sure she doesn’t show up here and make a fuss in front of Toby.”

“There is that.” She guided Toby’s hand with the spoon again. “It’s not my place to say, but I was never sure why you married her anyway. I wouldn’t have thought she was your type.”

Neither did he. But with her rich auburn hair, long legs, brilliant green eyes, and creamy complexion, she’d reminded him so much of another woman he hadn’t been able to resist. Unfortunately, she had turned out to be all flash and no substance. Worse than that, a fortune hunter who wanted the publicity and recognition that came with being married to a star football player. He didn’t realize until it was too late that she had the morals of an alley cat and was less than a pale imitation of the woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his brain all these years.

God, he wished he could stop thinking about Sarah. He’d lost count of the number of nights he’d lain in bed reliving their one night together. He could still taste her on his lips, still remember the feel of her silken skin beneath his hands, still breathe in the scent of peaches that wafted around her in a light cloud. He hadn’t been able to eat one since then without thinking of her. Worse yet, every time he bit into one, his cock also remembered and stood at rigid attention. Made it a little difficult if he was out in public.

Why had he ever walked away from her that night? He’d made a terrible, terrible mistake with her. He’d had the absolute best night of his life, and he’d left without so much as a note. What class. He’d been kicking himself in the ass ever since. But he had been in the early years of his career then, the world was his for the taking, and he hadn’t wanted to tie himself down.

Then Lacey had blown into his life. By that time, he’d realized what a mistake he’d made with Sarah. He spent a lot of miserable nights reliving the biggest blunder of his life. On the surface, Lacey reminded him so much of the woman he’d let get away. He’d jumped into a thing with her without looking, despite warnings from his friends who took a better measure of her than he had. Before he turned around, he was married, a father, and had a wife who couldn’t seem to entertain herself when he was away except in someone else’s bed. It didn’t take him long to realize what he’d picked was a very cheap imitation of Sarah York, cheap being the operative word. What had he been thinking?

The team had not been happy with the mess in the papers that followed, but they’d cleaned it up. When he became a free agent a couple of years later and the Miami Thunder went after him, he’d jumped at the chance. A fresh start for him and for Toby. They had a new city, a beautiful new home he’d bought as soon as the ink was dry on the contract, and, best of all, Babs had agreed to relocate with him. Unfortunately, Lacey had heard about it, although the big announcement wasn’t until today. Now, she was here in Miami, haunting him again.

If only he hadn’t been such an idiot about Sarah. He could at least have kept in touch with her, and who knew what would have happened then. Maybe when he’d been a little more settled, when—

Yeah, right, asshole
. So she should, what, hang around until you’d finished sowing your wild oats? Are you wearing your selfish T-shirt? He often thought about trying to locate her. She was an attorney, and the bar association had records. Only now, he was divorced with full custody of a toddler. Did she want someone with all that baggage?

“Beau?” Babs’ voice broke into his thoughts.

He gave himself a mental shake. “Yeah. Sorry. What?”

“What time is the press conference today?”

Oh, yeah. His big coming-out party. Ian Dare, the owner of the Miami Thunder, had insisted on making a big deal out of it. For the money they were paying him, he’d stand on his head naked if they wanted. Well, maybe not naked. But he’d make sure to give them their money’s worth on and off the field.

“Two thirty,” he told her. “Early enough to let the television guys get it back to their stations and on the six o’clock news.”

“I guess they want to start the hype for their big new star as early as they can,” she teased.

Beau snorted. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Be your usual charming self, and you’ll be a hit.”

He laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

“You know,” she mused, “it’s a good thing they have security at their headquarters. I wouldn’t put it past that crazy bimbo to try and crash the party.”

The thought of it made his stomach cramp. That’s all he would need. He’d come here to start a brand new life for Toby and himself. A new beginning, away from the taint of his crazy ex-wife. He had to figure out a way to deal with that before it got out of hand.

“I’m going to work out for a while,” he told Babs. “I’ll feed myself when I’m through.” He kissed Toby’s forehead. “You be good on your date with Babs, little guy. Be a real gentleman.”

“He always is,” Babs told him. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks.”

When he bought the house, he’d added on a huge workout room in the back. He’d had the Thunder’s trainer help him select the equipment for it. Off season, he tried to spend a couple of hours in it every day, to keep himself in shape. Today, it would provide him the necessary opportunity to work off the frustration building in his system.

And maybe kill the images of Sarah York that continued to haunt him.

*****

“Getting settled in?”

At the sound of the male voice, Sarah looked up from her desk to see her new boss, Ian Dare, lounging in her doorway. She pushed aside the contract she’d been looking at and smiled at him.

“Yes, thanks. And thanks for helping with the condo and everything.”

He walked into the office and dropped into the chair in front of her desk. “So everything got taken care of okay? Sorry I had to go out of town.”

“Oh, no. Please.” She shook her head. “Business first. Everything went smoothly at the bank, the moving truck arrived on time, and I’m good to go.”

“Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together. “I know this has all been fast, but we needed to get you here as soon as possible.”

Fast didn’t even begin to describe it.

“I don’t know if anyone told you,” he said, “but we’re having a press conference at two thirty this afternoon. We’ll be introducing the hot new free agent we just signed. I’d like it if you could be there.”

The position of in-house counsel for the Miami Thunder had popped up out of the blue. One minute, she was at a dinner in Chicago where Ian Dare had been a guest. The next, she was flying south to interview for a job that, for an avid football fan like her, was a dream come true. Her predecessor had already been gone for two weeks, so she was immersed in work right away, and this would be her first chance to get to know more than the few people she’d been working with.

“Sounds interesting,” she told him. “Who’s the guy?”

“You’ll know him. He gets a lot of media coverage. It’s—”

Sarah held up her hand as the phone on her desk rang. “Yes?” she said into the receiver. “All right, I’ll tell him.” She looked across the desk at her boss. “I guess I’ll have to wait to find out. That was your secretary. Your director of communications is waiting for you. He says he needs you right away.”

Ian pushed himself out of his chair. “He’s antsy about today’s press conference. Lots of big television coverage.” At the door, he turned. “I’d like you to make time to be there, Sarah. I know everything’s been kind of rushed since you got here. This will be a good chance for you to meet a lot of the corporate and football staff in one group.” He grinned. “And for them to meet you.”

Okay, she thought. Command performance. But she had to acknowledge he was right. She’d been here three weeks and had barely seen anything except her office or her condo.

“I’ll be there,” she assured him.

“Good.” He waved. “See you later.”

Sarah looked at the pile of folders on her desk and the document open on her computer screen and swallowed a laugh. She’d wanted something new and challenging, something that would keep her so busy she didn’t have time to think. She’d certainly gotten it, in spades.

After the situation with Kirk blew up at work and at home, she’d wanted out of Chicago as fast as she could leave.

Only her carefully cultivated self-control had prevented her from leaping across the room and stabbing him with a letter opener.

“Now, we can work on
your
appointment,” he’d told her with a smug look on his face.

She could hardly believe he’d had the balls to come to her place that night. The one thing she was grateful for was she’d never given in to his suggestion they live together. He had been unbelievably shocked when she told him to get the hell out of her townhouse and her life. She’d had no idea how she would go to work every day at that firm, seeing Kirk’s smug face every time she turned around.

Ian Dare’s offer had been a godsend. Twenty-four hours after she’d boarded a plane for her interview in Miami, she was the new in-house counsel for the Miami Thunder.

Out of nowhere, a stray thought blasted into her brain. She knew the Thunder and the Panthers were in the same conference. She also knew they played each other during the season. Sad case that she was, she’d watched every single Panthers game for the past six years. Beau Perini had walked out on her, for heaven’s sake. Left her without so much as even a fuck you! Why did she continue to waste her time watching him play?

Trying to convince herself it was mere curiosity, she’d trolled the Internet for news of him. “I’m only following the sports news,” she kept repeating. There were pictures of him with one woman or another, smiling, his arm around her. She noted he seldom stayed with any of them very long, and she wondered why. What was he looking for that none of them could give him? That she hadn’t been able to give him? Why hadn’t he been willing to explore possibilities after the night that rocked her world, and she was sure it rocked his.

She knew he’d gotten married then divorced before the ink on the license was barely dry. That figured. Obviously, he hadn’t changed a bit since that night in New Orleans. She needed to pour bleach into her mind to get rid of him.