Game For Love: Love Games (Kindle Worlds) (12 page)

 
With Marlee, the thought of not knowing anything about her family bothered him. For all he knew, these kids in the pictures could have been hers. He knew they weren’t. But he had gotten that information from asking Cole on the phone this morning about Marlee’s marital and children status, not because he’d gotten to know Marlee all that well.
 

He felt as if he’d known her longer. It could have been the physical intimacy they’d just shared, but Declan felt almost a déjá vu thing with Marlee. Had felt it even before their incredible lovemaking session. Like she was very familiar to him. It wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility for Declan to forget someone he had slept with (he probably forgot more than he remembered if put to the test), but he knew that wasn’t it. No way would he have forgotten sleeping with Marlee.

He’d talked to Cole briefly this morning before he met Marlee at the studio, letting him know about the fire. Cole and Anna were flying out this morning and Declan wanted to thank his friend again for coming to his last game. He’d asked his family not to come. They’d come for his last regular season home game. And he’d wanted to totally concentrate on continuing on in the playoffs. So having a former teammate be there for him was a nice consolation prize.

At Cole’s tentative probing about Declan and Marlee, Declan alluded to this feeling of knowing Marlee previously. It wasn’t a past life thing—Declan didn’t believe in that—more of a comfort he felt with Marlee. Cole had understood, had even mentioned he’d felt something similar the night he’d met Anna.

Although Cole had married Anna on the night they’d met, and Declan wasn’t thinking beyond spending this week with Marlee.

 
But his feelings were kind of like that throw on Marlee’s wooden rocking chair—it looked new, but was like the blanket that you’d wrap around yourself when you were a kid. Soft, familiar, comfortable. Not that it was easy with Marlee; she kept him on his toes both intellectually and most definitely physically, but it was comfortable.

Marlee’s slender fingers traced the frames. “Most live here or nearby. I have two older sisters and one younger brother. The sisters are in the Boston area, both married with kids. The brother is in New York. He’s single, no kids. My parents recently retired and they’re in Florida for the winter, but they still have the house we grew up in—it’s only a short drive from here.”

“What did your parents retire from?”

“You mean besides the Boston winters?”
 

Declan smiled, glad that Marlee was being so light with him. Because of what he’d taken as her internal struggle to enter into a short-term fling with him, he thought she might be having buyer’s remorse by now. Or worse, outright guilt. Declan had every intention of seeing Marlee all he could for the next week. Getting inside her warm body every chance he could. He didn't want to deal with having to coax her for an encore. He took from her tone that coaxing wouldn’t be necessary.

“Yes, besides that.”

“They were both professors at Boston College. Mom philosophy and dad chemistry.”

“Apple doesn’t fall far, and all that?”

“I guess. Academic life was all I knew, and it fits me well. How about you, Declan, what do your parents do? Brothers? Sisters?”

It was refreshing to meet someone that knew nothing about him. His background had been such an open book for so long. How many covers of
Sports Illustrated
had he graced over the years? Declan gave Marlee the condensed version of his youth.
 

Oldest child of three raised on a working farm in central Ohio. His dad had placed a football in Declan’s hand at twenty months, and, the legend has it, he threw it nearly thirty yards. His father encouraged Declan’s passion, but never pushed. His fondest memories were of playing catch with his father alongside the barn after the evening chores. They’d still done that whenever Declan went home. He had won two Super Bowl rings, but the only times he ever choked up was when he replayed the sweet memories of him and his dad.

“My father died two years ago. Car accident. That’s when I started seriously thinking about retiring.”

Marlee wound her arm around Declan’s waist and gave him her warmth. “I’m so sorry, Declan. And your mother?”

Declan put his arms around Marlee and pulled her close, taking the comfort she offered. “Thanks. My mom’s still on the farm. My youngest brother took it over—had intended to all along. He does a great job with it, too. He and his wife have three rugrats, and they’re now enjoying the life I loved growing up.”
 

He instinctively reached for his wallet to show Marlee the photos of his nieces and nephews, then realized he’d taken it from his jeans earlier to get a condom. And then later to get another one. The wallet was somewhere on the bedroom floor along with his socks, underwear, and every stitch that Marlee had been wearing.

 
“My sister and her husband live in Ohio too. Not far from the farm. They have two children. My niece made that scarf of mine you’re wearing. Mom’s in Grandma heaven, having them all so close to her.”

“And you? Will you be adding to her nirvana?”

“Someday, sure. Definitely. I didn’t want to think about it until now. Once I was off the road. I want to see my kids grow up, not just phone home to hear the latest.
 

“What about you, Marlee? Have you decided that your career and an occasional affair are enough to make you happy?”
 

There was no judgment in his voice, and yet Marlee bristled at the “occasional affair” remark. Of course that was what Declan would think of her. Could she really blame him? She was climaxing against a door after knowing him a day. She supposed all the women in Declan’s life could be lumped into the same pile. Was she any different? Yes. Because she wasn’t after Declan for anything more than tonight. And maybe tomorrow night. Oh, hell, for the whole week if she could manage it. Then Declan would be in New York and she’d get on with her life.
 

She backed away from his embrace and moved toward the arched entryway leading to the kitchen. “Funny you should ask. I’ve just recently decided that I indeed ‘want to have it all,’ whatever that means. Meeting Prince Charming, marriage, baby carriage, the whole nine yards.” Marlee was surprised at her candor. She knew her intentions, but she hadn’t shared them with anyone else.
 

After having been burned two years ago, she learned to keep her love life to herself. Or lack of love life.

First, she didn’t want her friends’ and family’s pity if she never found a man she wanted to marry. She had thought about having a child without a husband. She wavered on that one, intending to put off that decision until she had thrown in the towel on the idea of a traditional marriage and family. Her clock was ticking, but at this point it was ticking softly.

Second, she didn’t want those same friends and family making it their sole mission in life to find Marlee a husband. If it didn’t happen for her, it didn’t happen. She was very fulfilled in her career and could always bestow all her maternal yearnings upon her nieces and nephews. They already added so much to her life, brought her tremendous joy.
 

“So we’re both at the point in our lives where we want to settle down and have a family? Hhhmm, maybe we should take a look at that, Marlee,” he said with a light, almost teasing tone.

“Yeah. Right,” she snorted. She entered the kitchen and turned on the light.
 

A stunned Declan followed behind.

Declan felt like he’d just been sacked by a three-hundred-pound defensive tackle. What was so funny about the idea? He’d said it lightly, so as to not scare Marlee off, but he hadn’t intended for her to laugh. She had
snorted
, for Christ’s sake. Did she think she could do that much better than him? They’d just proven they were compatible in the bedroom. Way compatible. Their upbringings were similar, their homes were nearly identical. Was she still deluding herself with the idea that they were total opposites?

Declan was about to make her see the light when he stopped himself.
What are you going to do then? Prove to her how much you have in common, how good you’d be together, how it could be more than just a week-long fling? That maybe they should seriously consider the possibility of a relationship? Then what? You get on a plane Sunday morning, and you have no idea what the next few weeks will hold, let alone the next few years.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told Marlee he was ready to settle down. But he needed to get his ducks in a row first. It would probably take one to two years before he truly had a handle on his future. He figured that if he did get on with a network, he would probably have to spend the first few years on the road, covering games. Eventually, he could work his way into a studio job, doing pre-game stuff. Maybe sitting next to Terry and Howie.
 

Could he ask Marlee to wait that long before entering into a permanent relationship? Would she, even if he asked her to? Her snort was probably all the answer he needed. Besides, Declan knew it wasn’t fair, but he had no clock by which becoming a father was set. Marlee wanted kids, she couldn’t realistically wait several years to begin a relationship with Declan, even though she was only thirty. Not that she’d even entertain the idea of something between them.
 

Boy, that snort had really gotten to him. But there was no sense dredging up what-ifs for something that couldn’t happen.
 

“My God, I’ve died and gone to Cuisinart heaven,” he murmured as he entered Marlee’s kitchen. It was state of the art, and like her living room, was almost identical in style and layout to his. “This is great. I love it.”

“Thank you. I love it too. It’s my baby. It took me several years to get it just the way I want it. It’s probably my favorite room in the house, the place I look most forward to when I get home.”

The counters were a deep gray marble with flecks of green throughout. All the appliances were stainless steel and the cupboards all had glass doors. It was very organized, but every square inch of space on the counters was covered with gadgets. Bread maker, food processor, espresso machine. An island housed the oven and stovetop, and was done in the same marble.
 

Above it, steel pans hung from a scaffolding that was attached to the ceiling. Kitchen gadgets seemed to be Marlee’s vice.
 

“Hey, you’ve got that new pasta maker. I’ve been meaning to pick that up. Have you used it? Do you love it? Is it better than the older model?”

“Yes. I do. And yes, it is better.” Marlee was obviously startled to see Declan’s enjoyment of her kitchen. He could see her puzzled look directed toward him, as if she was wondering if there was more to Declan Tate than just the body she’d just enjoyed.

He twirled around the room, taking another look. “I can cook for you this week after all. I’ll just use your kitchen.” He turned to look at her. “Or are you territorial?”

“Well, yes, usually. But you don’t seem to be an amateur, so…I’ll let you play in my sandbox.”

Declan gave her a sly grin. “Yes indeedy, I do like playing in your box.” He moved toward her, then, as if remembering what had brought them downstairs, veered toward her refrigerator. Quench that hunger first, then deal with the other one.
 

The hunger for Marlee.
 

He did sate himself, with both food and Marlee, well into the night.

Chapter Nine

I
n the shower the next morning, Marlee noticed her body still bore the signs of Declan’s loving. Reddened places on her body where his stubble had rubbed. Sensitive places internally where other parts of him had rubbed.
 

To be filled by Declan had been an experience like no other. Remembering that man, a warrior, a gladiator, a man who battled men three times his size, pounding into her with such a tender ferocity put Marlee on the brink of yet another orgasm as her hands slid over her body.

Regretfully, she pulled herself out of the bliss of remembering the previous night. She needed to get a move on if she wanted to be to the studio by ten.
 

She didn’t have to be, she made her own schedule for this week, but she wanted to get right to work. She was excited about the additions she’d made yesterday with Declan’s help. She wanted to quickly incorporate them into her speech and then practice the whole thing at least twice. Then it would be Declan’s turn to practice.
 

The thought of getting that gorgeous man on camera intoxicated her. She knew he had one of those faces that would photograph even better than he looked in person. And that was saying a lot; to top how good he looked up close and personal.

As she washed, Marlee’s skin felt raw and sensitive. She felt no guilt from the previous evening’s wantonness, only surprise. Surprise that she’d been so responsive to Declan’s touch, to his kisses, to the words he used to take her higher. Surprise that she could give as good as she got, and Declan had seen that she’d definitely gotten. Surprise that being with Declan had seemed so natural to her, that they had quickly behaved as long-time lovers. And mostly, surprise at the yearning she felt to continue this affair.