Field of Pleasure (8 page)

“Fine,” he relented. “No Jet Skis. Why don't you decide?”

A few seconds went by before she asked, “How do you feel about dog parks?”

He twisted the cap from his water and took a swig. “Since I don't have a dog, I'm pretty ambivalent on the subject.”

“I've been neglecting Summer, and I promised her we'd spend tomorrow afternoon at the dog park.”

“And she understood your promise?”

“Of course she did.”

Jared shook his head. “I just love the way pet owners like to pretend their pets have human qualities.”

“Hey, Summer is smarter than half the people in New York. Now, if you want to see me tomorrow, you meet me in Madison Square Park. I'll buy you lunch.”

“Only if you let me buy you dinner tomorrow night,” he said. “Don't say no,” Jared entreated, sensing her hesitation. “I thought we established last night that you, me and dinner make a good combination.”

“It did, but—”

“No buts, Chyna.” He cut off her refusal before she had the chance to voice it. “You had fun last night. Don't tell me you didn't.”

“I already admitted that I did.”

“And I enjoyed showing you a good time. What objection can you have to doing that again?”

“You'll eventually want to take it further, and I just don't have time to devote to anything serious,” she said.

He leaned back against the bar and crossed his ankles in front of him. “I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed when you ended that kiss, or that I haven't
thought about it a time or two—” or two hundred, he thought “—since last night. But I've already promised not to push you any further than you're willing to go.

“I like you, Chyna.” As he said the words, Jared realized he meant them. Completely. “The only thing I had to look forward to this summer was working out at the practice facility and coming back to this empty house to watch tape. The promise of seeing you, it's more than I could have hoped for.”

She was quiet for several long moments before finally saying, “That was one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.”

“I meant it,” Jared said, imagining the smile on her face and feeling like a king for knowing he'd put it there. “What time should I meet you at the park?” he asked.

“One o'clock,” she answered. “How should I dress for dinner?”

A sense of triumph welled in his chest at her acquiescence. “I won't make the same mistake twice,” Jared said. “We'll go casual tomorrow.”

“Enjoy watching your tape,” she said.

“Good luck with the paper tonight,” he returned.

“Thanks,” she said. “Goodbye, Jared.”

“Goodbye, Chyna.”

After a beat, she said, “Are you hanging up, or what?”

“You go first,” Jared prompted.

“And we've both just landed back in the sixth grade,” she said with a droll snort. “I'll see you tomorrow.” She disconnected the call.

He'd smiled so much in the last ten minutes, his jaw ached, yet Jared still couldn't wipe the stupid grin from his face.

He went into the kitchen and pulled out the turkey on wheat Maggie had left in the fridge for him. Unwrapping
the clear plastic wrap, Jared ambled over to the phone on the counter and dialed into his voice mail.

He deleted the first three calls, two from his agent and another from the building concierge. The fourth was from his mom, letting him know she'd made it to Okinawa where she was spending the month with his sister, Sharon, while his navy doctor brother-in-law served his fourth tour in Afghanistan.

He skipped to the fifth missed call. It was from his business partner, Patrick.

“We got the go-ahead,” Patrick's excited voice said over splotches of cell phone static. “Inspection is Monday. I'm meeting the contractor at noon tomorrow. Come over if you have time.”

Jared finished off his sandwich and headed to his bedroom to change. He'd made an attempt to help out more with the Red Zone, but he was so used to being a silent partner in the many ventures he invested in, he had never gotten around to giving Patrick a hand. If he'd been thinking clearly, Jared would have gotten more involved. Helping Patrick bring his concept of an upscale, sports-themed barbershop to life would have helped to keep his mind off Samantha these past six months.

Of course, now that he'd started whatever it was he and Chyna had going on, he didn't need anything else to occupy his mind. She had taken up all available space and then some.

Jared locked up his penthouse and hopped into his car. A half hour later, he spotted Patrick's car parked in the alley beside the two-story brownstone Jared had purchased in Upper Manhattan's Morningside Heights neighborhood. A contractor had gutted the interior and completely renovated it.

Patrick Foley greeted him just inside the entrance to
the barbershop. Jared clasped his college roommate on the shoulder. “Give me the grand tour.”

“Prepare yourself, my man,” Patrick said with a gigantic grin. They set out on a tour of the shop, Patrick pointing out the features that had been added since the last time Jared had visited. “The waiting area has four televisions dedicated to four main sports—football, basketball, baseball and hockey. Unless there's a major golf or tennis tournament going on.”

They walked up three steps to the main area of the barbershop. Dark hardwood floors gleamed. The right side housed seven barber stations separated by clear, shoulder-high partitions. Each station was comprised of a heated leather massage chair, a stainless-steel sink, and a nineteen-inch flat-screen television extending eye-level from a long metal arm.

The left wall held a bar with a movie-theater caliber popcorn maker and three beer taps, along with two additional stations for shaving and a towel warmer the size of a refrigerator.

“I would live here,” Jared said.

Patrick laughed. “Well, there's an extra bedroom upstairs. You are always welcome to it if Sam ever puts you—” His friend stopped. “Damn, man, I'm sorry.”

“Don't sweat it,” Jared said.

“It's just that you two were together for so long, it's easy to forget that she's gone.”

For months he'd had that same problem, but Jared realized he hadn't thought much about Samantha this past week. Not since he'd looked across the practice field at the Sabers facility and encountered a vision with gray eyes and a body to die for walking toward him.

“Let me show you the rest,” Patrick said. He pointed out all the features that made the Red Zone different from
your normal barbershop. A guy could spend his entire Saturday here. This place was a surefire goldmine.

“How are the plans coming for the grand opening?” Jared asked.

“It's all good,” Patrick said. “I've got ad spots running on four radio stations starting on Wednesday. The Facebook page launched last night. And I just confirmed with the Sabers' public relations that we'll have three cheerleaders.”

“You're bringing in Saberrettes?”

“Hell, yeah,” Patrick said. “I thought I told you about that. The free beer and pizza may bring guys in the door, but girls in skimpy outfits will keep them here.”

Jared couldn't argue with that logic. “You need anything else?” he asked. “You know, cash-wise, to help buy streamers and balloons or whatever else it is people use to decorate for a grand opening?”

“I've got it covered,” Patrick said. “You've done enough. I don't know how I'm going to repay you for this, man.”

“Easy, you'll write me a nice check every month.” Jared laughed.

“Yeah, I know.” Patrick joined in with a chuckle. “Still, I owe you. After the divorce, not a single bank was willing to give me a loan. I needed this.”

“You know you can always count on me,” Jared said, bringing his long-time friend in for a one-armed hug. “Now why don't you start paying me back by ordering a pizza while we watch the Celtics and Lakers?”

“You got it.” Patrick clamped a hand on his back as he fired up one of the flat screens.

“S
ummer, no!” Chyna called in a stern voice. She bent down and scooped Summer into her arms before her tiny canine explorer could find another flower to chew. Nuzzling her Yorkie's neck, she said, “Why do you insist on eating the grass? You'll have these people thinking Mommy doesn't feed you.”

Summer's pink tongue darted out and gave Chyna's nose an apologetic lick, but as soon as the dog was on all fours again she darted for the foliage. Chyna tightened her grip on the leash, shaking her head at her ill-behaved baby.

“Looks like she's trying to get away from you.”

The sound of that deep, amused voice caused a delicious ripple to travel from her shoulders to the small of her back. Chyna turned and forgot what she was going to say; the sight of Jared rendered her speechless. He wore tan deck shorts and a plaid shirt of light blue, tan
and white. It was unbuttoned to reveal a white tank underneath that hugged his washboard abs. Expensive sunshades covered his eyes.

Sweet Jesus, the man looked good.

“Hi,” Chyna said, surprised that she had use of her tongue when it was still hanging halfway out of her mouth.

“I thought you said one o'clock,” he said. “It's not even twelve-thirty.”

She gestured to the dog sniffing inquisitively at Jared's dark brown sandals. “Summer was getting restless, so we came a little early.”

“Restless, huh?” Jared fell to his haunches and went straight for Summer's ears, scratching the spot that automatically sent the dog's right leg to tapping. Chyna knew with that one move, Jared had become Summer's new best friend. She wondered if he could zero in on
her
spot that quickly.

“Stop it.” Chyna chastised herself.

She realized she'd spoken aloud when Jared looked up at her and asked, “Why? She likes it.”

“Not you. I'm sorry,” she said with an offhand wave, while her stomach knotted with an anxious ache that had been there since their kiss on Friday. “So, are you hungry? I'm buying you lunch, remember?”

“Will it involve you slipping your fingers into my mouth?” he asked with a decadent grin.

Chyna's stomach instantly clenched with need, and a sudden throb starting humming between her thighs.

“They do sell some of the best French fries you'll ever taste,” she answered, surprised by the huskiness in her tone.

“If they're coming from your fingers, then I have no doubt.”

Oh, but this one was dangerous. The man had more sexual magnetism in his left pinky than the last three guys she'd dated combined. The fact that the last date she'd been on before Jared had been well over a year ago made the situation even more perilous. If she wasn't careful Chyna knew she would get way more than she'd bargained for when she agreed to kicking back and having a little fun. The look in Jared's eyes promised way more than just a
little
fun.

Chyna gave Summer's leash a tug and they headed toward the corner of the park at Twenty-third Street and Madison Avenue, where the Shake Shack, a popular burger stand, was located.

“How'd the paper writing go last night?” Jared asked, retrieving the sunshades he'd hooked over the collar of his shirt and placing them on his eyes.

“I stayed up way too late finishing the first draft, which is why I'll probably fall asleep in the middle of eating my hamburger.”

“I remember those days.” Jared laughed. “The worst was philosophy. I hated that class.”

“I wouldn't think philosophy would be popular with football players,” Chyna remarked.

“It wasn't, but I was a political science major. It was required.”

“Political science? What did you plan to do with that?”

“Law school,” he answered nonchalantly.

Chyna nearly stumbled. “Ooo-kay, I
so
wasn't expecting that.”

“Not typical of your average football player?” he asked with a grin. “I know, but I come from a family of high achievers. It's what was expected of me.”

“Don't tell me the multimillionaire football player is the underachiever in the family?” she scoffed.

He chuckled. “Money-wise, I'm winning the race,” he said. Then he shrugged again. “My dad's a navy doctor and my younger sister married a navy doctor. They're stationed in Japan. In fact, my mom is there right now.”

“What does your sister do?”

“She's working on her Ph.D. in…wait for it…philosophy.”

“Ouch!” Chyna laughed. “And you couldn't even get into law school. The shame.”

He ran a hand over his close-cut hair. “I actually got into a few, but I decided football would be more fun. Is that the line?” Jared pointed to the procession of people snaking around the southeast corner of the park.

“That would be it,” Chyna confirmed. “This is typical of a Sunday afternoon. The Shake Shack is known for their burgers, fries and shakes.”

“How come I've never heard of this place? Looks like everyone else in New York has.”

“Well, their wine list isn't very extensive,” she teased.

He halted his steps. “Will I ever live down that bottle of wine?”

“Not anytime soon,” Chyna said with a breezy laugh.

They made their way to the back of the line, but then Chyna was immediately treated to one of the perks of being in the company of a celebrity. People began giving up their spot in line as soon as they recognized Jared. Moments later, a teen in a turquoise Shake Shack T-shirt greeted them and escorted them to one of the tables under the towering trees of Madison Square Park.

“It's so exciting to have you here.” The girl beamed. “What would you like to order? It's on the house.”

Chyna was stunned, yet Jared carried on as if this red carpet treatment was no big deal.

“Two burgers, two fries and two shakes,” Jared said. “Are you a chocolate or vanilla person?” he asked her.

“Chocolate,” she uttered. “And a bottle of water, if that's okay?”

“Absolutely,” the girl answered. “I'll bring it right out.”

Chyna gestured to the girl's retreating form. “What just happened there?”

Jared grinned. “Welcome to my world. Nice isn't it? I would never have gotten this type of treatment if I had gone to law school.”

“Unbelievable.” She shook her head. “You ball players are so spoiled.”

“We're used to getting what we want.” His grin was the epitome of sexy.

Gazing at his face, which was streaked with slashes of sunlight filtering between the branches high above, Chyna tilted her head to the side and asked quietly, “And just what is it you want, Jared Dawson?”

For a moment he didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her. Slowly, one side of his incredibly decadent mouth tipped up. He leaned forward and crossed his arms over the table.

“I'd tell you,” he divulged in a suggestive whisper, “but it would scandalize Summer's innocent ears. Maybe I can show you later, once we've tired her out.”

His bold proposal settled erotic and hot in Chyna's belly. She was saved from responding with the arrival of their food. For the next ten minutes Chyna watched in awe as Jared polished off his burger, his fries and half of hers, along with the super thick milkshake.

He leaned back in the rickety chair and patted his stomach, which was still tight as a drumhead. How incredibly unfair was that?

“Now I understand why people wait in line for an hour.” He reached down and picked up Summer from where she'd been resting at Chyna's feet. “Okay, Summer, what do you say we work off some of this food?”

Summer yelped, her tail wagging excitedly. The little traitor. A bit of attention from a cute boy and the dog forgot all about her mommy. Looking at said boy as he rose from the table, Chyna couldn't blame Summer one bit.

“Do we have doggy toys?” Jared asked over his shoulder.

“We never leave home without them,” Chyna answered.

They walked over to a patch of grass toward the center of the park. She usually didn't detach Summer from her leash, but Chyna figured with both of them there, one of them would be able to track the dog down if she took off. She unclipped the leash, handed Jared the dumbbell-shaped chew toy from her backpack and parked herself on a patch of even ground under a shade tree.

For the next twenty minutes, Chyna laughed until her side hurt as Summer ran Jared in circles. She was quick as a whip, catching the dumbbell and racing it back to Jared before he had the chance to catch his breath. Sometimes Summer would run up to Chyna and waggle her toy just out of Chyna's reach, then take off again for Jared.

A chime started from within the backpack. She reached in for her cell phone. It was Liani.

“Hey there! What's going on?” Chyna answered.

“Hey, yourself. Did you get your paper done last night?”

“Finally finished the first draft,” Chyna said.

“Good. Now you won't have any reason to cancel our girl's night out again.”

Chyna's eyes followed Jared's strong, lean body as he chased Summer. Despite the casual attire, there was no mistaking the powerfully built male underneath those clothes. She didn't want to burst Liani's bubble, but Chyna had a feeling the cancellations would continue.

“Yeah,” was all she managed to say.

“Good, I'll plan something fun,” Liani answered. “Oh, before I forget, a couple of girls from the squad have a promotional event on Saturday. There's some hotshot barbershop opening in Morningside Heights, not too far from Columbia University, and they want the Saberrettes for the grand opening. I think you should come. You can see another side of what we do.”

“I'll need to check my schedule, but if I can make it, I'm there,” Chyna said.

“Meet me at my folks' place. We can go together,” Liana said.

“You'll still be at your parents?”

“Yes.” Liani sighed. “When the maintenance guy went in to fix my shower, he discovered a whole mess of problems with the piping. I won't be able to move back into my apartment for at least another two weeks.”

“Poor you. Stuck in a fancy penthouse on Fifth Avenue for another two weeks,” Chyna drawled.

“Want to trade places?” Liani asked.

“No thanks.” Chyna laughed at her friend's colorless tone. “Email me the specifics about the event. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure. And, hey,” Liani said before Chyna could hang up. “You still owe me the dirt on your date with Jared Dawson. Don't think I forgot.”

“I know,” Chyna said. Jared scooped up Summer and started walking toward her. Chyna bit her lower lip. “He's coming this way. I'll tell you about it later.”

“Wait! You're with him now! Chy—”

Chyna ended the call and tossed the phone next to her hip. Using one hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she looked up at him and smiled. “Worn out yet?”

Jared parked himself next to her and Summer scampered onto his lap and immediately started to lick his face. “This dog would give the Energizer Bunny a run for its money,” Jared huffed on an exhausted breath.

Chyna reached over and pulled Summer from his chest. “Come here, you. You are such a traitor. It's not nice to ignore Mommy.”

“How's Mommy doing?” Jared asked, leaning back on an elbow. His sexy grin started all manner of yummy things swirling in the pit of Chyna's stomach. His teeth were perfect, straight and gleaming white. She'd never noticed the dimple indenting his cheek. Add that to the list of unfair advantages that had been heaped onto Jared Dawson. There had to be something wrong with him. Anyone lucky enough to have dimples should at least have to suffer from some type of fungus or skin disorder. It was the way the world maintained balance.

“Didn't know something this small could have so much energy, did you?” Chyna laughed.

“What's even more amazing is that she never gets bored. You would think running after that stupid dumbbell would get old after a while.”

“Not for her.” Chyna shook her head. “She could go on for hours.”

“Speaking from experience?” She could hear the laughter in his voice.

She returned his grin as she placed Summer on the grass. Summer immediately found a stick twice her size and pounced on it, wiggling her head back and forth and growling.

“She's bloodthirsty,” Jared said.

“Yeah, that stick doesn't stand a chance.” Chyna turned back to him, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “Do you have a pet?”

“Nah. Tried to keep a plant a few years ago, but managed to kill it within a month.”

She rolled her eyes. “That is pitiful.”

“It's hard to keep up when we have back-to-back away games. We're either on airplanes, in hotels or at the Sabers compound. My housekeeper brought in a few plants, but I still don't know if they're real or fake. She takes care of them. But I couldn't ask her to do that for a dog. Besides, Sam wasn't an animal person.”

He glanced at her then back out over the park. “I'm bracing myself,” he said.

“For what?” Chyna asked.

“You're supposed to punch me for mentioning her name.”

Instead of punching him, she scooted over and nudged his shoulder with her own. “I'm not going to punch you. It's unrealistic to think that you can just wipe her out of your mind.” Chyna picked up a blade of grass and trailed it under her nose. “How long were you two together?”

“Ten years,” he answered after a pause.

She winced. “That's even longer than I thought.” She hesitated a moment before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not a chance,” Jared answered. “No more talk about old girlfriends, or my overachieving family or anything else about me,” he said. “I want to talk about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why don't we start with what you do when you're not teaching cheerleaders new dance moves or burying
your face in schoolbooks? I know you work for a hedge fund, but what do you do?”