Game On (4 page)

“I pick my battles where I can, sweetie pie. Red cleats are a fight I don’t care about winning.”

Clearly Emma didn’t agree with her father, letting out a huff as she walked back over to her friends.

“Welcome to Camp Chaos.” Coach grinned, extending his hand to Shane.

As the two men shook hands, the back door crashed open and loud footsteps thundered into the mudroom.

“Get off my case, Aunt Carly!” a male voice yelled. “You’re not my mother!”

And there it was
. Confirmation that Shane was an ass. Carly March wasn’t fooling around with the coach. They were related somehow. He’d fumbled the play. Badly. Hell, he never should have pushed her buttons earlier in the day. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved she
wasn’t
having an affair with the coach or scared shitless about how and when she’d reveal the accusations he’d hurled at her. Right now, he was having trouble just getting a breath into his lungs.

A blur resembling a large teenage boy raced by.

“Hey! Christopher James!” Coach yelled. “You get back here and apologize to your aunt!”

Carly entered the kitchen, her shoulders slumped. Shane tried to blend into the wall behind her. She’d changed from her uptight power suit into designer jeans that, from Shane’s vantage point, fit her to perfection. A fuzzy sweater jacket in a soft shade of lavender hugged the rest of her body. Her hair was loosely pulled back and tied with a ribbon. The kitchen, boisterous only moments before, was now silent as the girls stared at Carly.

“It’s my fault, Matt,” she said softly, dropping her keys on the countertop. “I overstepped where I shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t care
where
you stepped,” Coach bellowed, making his way toward the stairs. “He has no right to speak to you that way.”

Clearly sensing an impending explosion, the girls at the kitchen table silently packed up their things.

“Devlin, make yourself at home while I take care of this,” Coach called out as he stormed after his son.

Carly tensed at the sound of Shane’s name. Slowly, she turned to face him. He was prepared to see anything in her eyes except the sadness that emanated from them.
Man, he had totally misread the situation.
Forcing her chin up, she grabbed her purse and keys off the counter.

“I’m out of here,” she said to no one in particular.

“Aunt Carly! You can’t go,” Emma cried, throwing herself in her aunt’s path. “You promised to help me pick out what I’m wearing to the Spring Fling, remember?”

“Look, I’ll go,” Shane said. “You should stay and be with your . . . family.” He stepped past her and headed toward the door. The sooner he got out of there, the better. The fact that he was still standing told him Carly hadn’t mentioned his earlier accusations to Coach. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t rat him out now. He needed to get far away from her.

Besides, the woman was making him crazy with her multiple personalities. One minute, she was a sexy siren in a Mexican bar. The next, she was a chilly, uptight professional. And right now, she looked as if someone had just killed her dog. The vulnerable look in Carly’s eyes was something he couldn’t deal with. He didn’t
want
to deal with the feelings it was stirring up in him. If he stayed, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from gathering her up in his arms and holding her until the look of sadness left her beautiful face.

And he’d never done that before.

“No one is going anywhere,” a female voice called from the top of the stairs.

Despite being pale and thin from months of chemotherapy, Lisa Richardson was beautiful. Dressed in black yoga pants, a light pink cashmere V-neck sweater, and a pink batik scarf covering her head, she slowly descended the stairs. Shane was struck by the drastic difference between how the coach’s wife handled her disease compared to how his own mother had.

Ovarian cancer had overwhelmed Marie Devlin at twenty-nine. She’d been an eighteen-year-old townie when she got pregnant by the local college’s star quarterback. Bruce Devlin was only twenty. They were children with a child of their own when they married. The first few years of their marriage had been a whirlwind. Bruce won the Heisman trophy and signed with the Philadelphia Eagles. Shane had fleeting memories of those early, happy years. As Bruce became a superstar—leading his team to a Super Bowl championship—his eye and heart began to roam. Marie became despondent as the relationship unraveled. Her diagnosis with cancer kept Bruce in the marriage, but not at home. Not that it mattered. His injury and subsequent drug addiction rendered him useless in encouraging her to fight the disease. In the end, not even her ten-year-old son could coax her to fight.
To live
.

Lisa was different, Shane realized right away as she stood in front of him. Her lips were brushed with a shiny pink gloss, and a crisp, clean perfume permeated her skin. It was obvious that she’d chosen to fight her disease. For her husband. For her children. And for herself. Shane wanted to hate her for it. But one look into her big brown eyes and he knew he couldn’t.

She smiled the same soft smile Emma offered him earlier.

“Welcome to Baltimore, Mr. Devlin.”

Shane took the hand she offered as her husband appeared at her side.

“Lisa, honey, you should be resting.” He wrapped his arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders.

Shane felt like an idiot. It was clear he’d jumped to some very wrong conclusions.

“Don’t be silly, Matt, I’m fine.” She trailed a finger down her husband’s chest. “I’m just going to have a cup of tea by the fire and let the girls practice their presentation on me. After that, Carly and I need to catch up on her trip to Mexico. She’s been home for two days and I haven’t heard the juicy details.”

Shane sensed Carly stiffen beside him.

“Li, I’ve got a pile of paperwork I left on my desk that I need to have finished by the morning. Can we get together for lunch tomorrow?” she asked.

“Actually, I have your papers in the car.” What was he thinking? He’d just blown the chance to get her out of the house before she could fill in Coach on his earlier wrong assumptions.

Carly turned to him, blue eyes wide and blazing. The look she threw at him should have shut him up. Except it didn’t.

“Your secretary asked me to bring them,” he babbled on. Crossing her arms beneath a pair of very nice breasts, she contemplated him for a long, silent minute. If he were smart, he’d stop provoking her. Except he really liked provoking her. Clearly, he had a death wish.

Finally, her eyes broke contact with his and Carly turned to her sister with a smile. “Bring on the lasagna,” she said cheerily. Too cheerily. Shane was left to wonder when she might let the axe fall.

“Good. It’s all settled then. Shane, you and Matt can have your meeting, Carly can do her paperwork, and afterward we’ll
all
enjoy a nice family dinner.”

Whoa, family dinner! No way!

“Oh, I couldn’t impose, Mrs. Richardson,” Shane backpedaled. He’d rather be tackled by a three-hundred-fifty-pound defensive lineman than sit through a meal making nice with the coach’s family.

“Nonsense. Penny has made her famous lasagna. It’s tradition to have a new player over for dinner. Surely you don’t have other plans already?” She eyed him carefully. It was the second time today he’d misread the play. He looked at the coach, who simply raised a brow at him.

“No, ma’am.” Shane sighed.

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Carly cover up a snort as he followed Coach out to his office in the carriage house.

Four

Carly reviewed and signed off on the league
policy changes and faxed them to the commissioner’s office, crossing off one task from the pile of work waiting for her in the morning. Afterward, she and Emma went through the girl’s closet to select the perfect outfit for the eighth-grade dance the following week; Emma persuaded Carly to loan her a Vera Wang shawl and matching shoes. Now, Carly stood at the breakfast bar slicing two loaves of crusty bread as Lisa carefully mixed the olive oil and the spices on a plate to dredge the bread in. She’d managed to satisfy her half sister’s curiosity about her trip without giving her any details about meeting Shane there. Not that he deserved her silence, but she had played a part as well, and the less her family knew, the better.

“So it was fun spending time with Julianne again?” Lisa asked.

“Things are always crazy with Julianne.” Carly tossed the bread into a basket.

“Do you miss working with her?”

She and Julianne had been roommates at boarding school. They were like sisters. For seven years, Carly had worked as Julianne’s publicist, working to get her designs noticed. She’d been living in Italy with Julianne when she learned Lisa had cancer and needed a life-saving bone-marrow transfer. It was the only time her father had ever initiated a phone call to Carly.

Carly didn’t hesitate. She moved to Baltimore—and away from the media circus that was her life—to help care for Lisa’s kids during the busy football season. While Lisa endured several rounds of chemotherapy to get her body ready for the transplant, Carly worked for the Blaze.

“Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?” Carly asked a little defensively. It was the second time today she’d been asked if she missed her old life. She didn’t. She liked having a family to care for. Friends who cared for her. A job where she actually felt useful. But if she’d worn out her welcome . . .

“No, I am not trying to get rid of you,” Lisa said, taking Carly’s hand in hers. “I just want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel you have to stay here in Baltimore if you don’t want to.”

“I’m where I want to be,” Carly said. “Besides, we both know Italy is not the best place for me right now.”

“Carly . . .” Lisa started.

“No, Lisa. I get you have a PhD in psychology and you want to get in my head, but I’m fine. My life is fine.” At least, Carly would be fine if a certain sexy quarterback wasn’t looming somewhere in the house, but she didn’t need her sister probing her right now. She just wanted to get through dinner and get this crazy day over with.

“Okay.” Lisa looked away as she began to toss the salad. “So I hear you’ll be taking over for Asia while she’s recovering. Will that be difficult for you?”

Carly studied her sister. Did she already know about her encounter—er,
encounters
—with Shane? How could she?

Lisa looked up to stare at Carly. When she didn’t immediately answer, Lisa asked: “Dealing with the press? Will it be difficult given what they’ve put you through?”

“No.” Carly mentally breathed a sigh of relief. “It’ll be mostly mainstream media, and besides, my celebrity, such as it is, is pretty much confined to Europe.” Dealing with Shane Devlin, on the other hand, might be a problem. But she didn’t dare tell her sister that. She no longer intended to apologize for her behavior in Cabo, given the accusations he’d made earlier. Both incidents should be something two adults could laugh off, but her reaction to Shane wasn’t humorous. Even now, she could feel the hum of the attraction between them. She’d never felt such a pull toward a man—not even the man she’d intended to marry. She just hoped she could get through the next few weeks without making a fool of herself.

“Okay, change the subject. Tell me what I want to know. Has Julianne finished with my gown for the gala in June?” Lisa asked as she carried the dipping sauce into the dining room.

Following Lisa, Carly placed the salad and the bread on the large, oval table. She spied Shane standing against the wall looking like he’d rather have a root canal than sit down to dinner. After his outburst this morning, she wasn’t exactly overjoyed to have to sit with him around the dinner table, either.

“She’s making one for me, too, right?” Emma asked as she carefully set a pitcher of water on the table. “You said we all get to go to the gala for your new charity.”

“Yes, Emma, I did say that, but I don’t think we all need to be wearing designer gowns.” Lisa caressed the top of her daughter’s head in consolation. She looked up at Shane. “I’ve started a foundation for children whose parents are severely or terminally ill. After spending years as a couples’ therapist, cancer has served as a little midcourse correction for my life,” she explained.

Shane still had that deer-in-headlights look about him, but he managed a gracious nod.

“You lost your mother to cancer, did you not?” Lisa was no shrinking violet when it came to fund-raising. Smiling at her sister’s tenacity, Carly glanced back at Shane. If possible, his face had gone even more ashen.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly.

“Perhaps you’d be interested in hearing about our little endeavor sometime?” Lisa made it sound like a question when everyone in the room knew it wasn’t.

“Go easy on him, honey,” Matt said as he carried a steaming pan of lasagna into the room. “Let’s just see if he makes it through dinner.”

Hah!
Matt’s prophetic statement brought a smile to Carly’s face.

“Shane, you sit here next to me.” Lisa pointed to the chair beside her as her children clamored into the room, plopping into their chairs. The chairs filled quickly, forcing Carly to sit between Shane and C.J.

C.J. eyed her warily, still obviously holding a grudge about their earlier argument. When she’d picked him up after practice, she’d walked in on him shoving a package of condoms in his gym bag. Typical of a sixteen-year-old boy, he declared they were for someone else. Carly knew she walked a fine line with her nephew over the matter. The sweet little boy who’d played Thomas the Tank Engine trains with her had morphed into a hormonal teenager practically overnight. She didn’t want to destroy the trust between them, but she figured that Matt would be better able to handle the situation. She’d figure out whether or not to speak with Matt later.

Right now, Carly had bigger problems. Like the solid muscle of Shane’s thigh that kept brushing against hers. If the heat building inside her was any indication, she’d need a long run in the drenching rain after dinner.

Matt blessed the meal and everyone began to talk at once while Penny served the lasagna. Shane was tense beside Carly. Carly snuck a glance at him from beneath her lashes. For a guy who defined arrogant, he sure seemed apprehensive about having dinner with Matt’s family. Carly thought back to the things that she’d read about him. Every article she’d unearthed depicted Shane as a loner. His childhood had been almost as dysfunctional as hers. Obviously, he wasn’t used to breaking bread with a bunch of rowdy tweens and teens. Carly almost felt sorry for his discomfort.
Almost
.

After his behavior this morning, she should be stabbing his hot thigh with her fork. She smothered a chuckle at the thought and dug into Penny’s lasagna. Shane shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. She smiled and enjoyed her dinner. The males on either side of her would just have to sweat it out wondering whether or not she’d be telling tales to Matt.

“I hear Gabe Harrelson is protesting the forfeit of his signing bonus,” Matt threw out from his end of the table.

“Actually, he’s having his bridezilla do his begging,” Carly joked. The kids at the table snickered along with her.

“Serves the Valley Boy right,” Penny said between bites of pasta. She’d been with the family for more than ten years and they were immune to her lack of political correctness. “What’d he need a television crew following him around on his honeymoon for anyway? That’s supposed to be a private time between a man and his wife. You’d think they’d have better things to do.”

Shane managed a chuckle beside Carly. She thought she heard C.J. mumble an
amen
under his breath.

“I think Gabe can’t decide whether he wants to be a movie star or a quarterback,” Lisa chimed in.

“I’d want to be a movie star,” Molly said from her seat beside her father, a dreamy look passing over her face.

“Really, princess? Why’s that?” Matt asked her with a grin.

“Because movie stars
rock
.” Molly had spent her life around jocks. She was definitely jaded.

“Hey, Shane, you’ve dated a bunch of movie stars. What’s that like?” C.J. leaned in front of Carly to peer at Shane.

Shane’s fork stopped just short of his mouth. The look on his face was so comical, Carly nearly laughed.

“Well . . .” Shane stalled.

“Oooh, have you ever dated Elise Wages?” Molly interrupted. “She’s my favorite.”

“Gross, Mol, she’s barely sixteen,” her brother said. Carly gaped at the boy, but he ignored her and tucked into his salad.

“Yeah, but if he dated her, it would be like he’d dated Carly.” Molly nearly flung her lasagna at her brother in an effort to make her point.

Shane choked on his bread as the rest of the table admonished Molly. Carly watched as he took a gulp of his water before staring blankly around the table.

“Elise Wages played Carly in the movie about her mother.” Emma—ever the diplomat—offered an explanation to Shane.

Shane looked even more confused as everyone else stopped eating to stare at him.

“You know,
Death in a Sandstorm
.” Emma leaned forward in her chair, enunciating each word as if he were hard of hearing. “It’s always on one of the cable movie channels.”

When he turned to Carly, both eyebrows raised in question, Emma continued in exasperation, obviously thinking Shane had spent too much time on the turf.

“It’s about Veronica March, Carly’s mother, who gets beheaded by terrorists. Elise Wages plays Aunt Carly when she was a kid.”

“Emma, you know how I feel about everyone trivializing Carly’s mother’s death,” Lisa softly chided her daughter.

Carly always admired the way her sister defended Carly’s mother, a woman she’d never met.

“I’m sorry Aunt Carly.” Emma sank back in her chair.

“No offense taken, sweetie.” Carly sent her a reassuring smile across the table.

Shane was still gaping at Carly. He really was starting to resemble a concussed idiot.

“Wait!” He put his fork down and gestured for quiet. “You mean your mother was that famous war reporter? The heiress to the World Media? That means your dad”—he turned to look at Lisa—“is Hugh Delaney, the news anchor.”

“The one and only.” Lisa grimaced.

“That means you’re . . .” Shane turned his head back to look at Carly. Could he really be that slow? Carly waited for the pity to show up in his eyes. “You’re
Darling Carly
.” She cringed. The moniker the media had dubbed her with as a young child always had the same effect on her.

“Wow,” he said. “You were a child celebrity. Everyone’s favorite orphan. The press used to follow you everywhere when you were young.” His voice was almost reverent, as if Carly had enjoyed those long, lonely months when the media couldn’t get enough of her pathetic story. She knew what was coming next. Twenty years later she’d once again been in the eye of the media storm, but not in a positive way. Somehow, she was no longer the darling, but the spineless woman who couldn’t hold on to her sports star fiancé. Carly set down her fork, her appetite gone.

Fortunately, her nephew spoke up before Shane could even go there. “You know, that sleazy reporter who’s always following you around the training center and leaving stuff in your office has the hots for Elise Wages,” C.J. said, startling nearly everyone at the table.

Matt’s fork stilled in midair as his gaze shot from his son to Carly. “Some reporter is hounding you at the complex?” he asked, his tone lethal.

“Yeah,” C.J. answered before Carly could. “He probably thinks if he hangs around Carly, he’ll meet Elise or something.”

“Is this true?” Lisa asked, exchanging a worried glance with her husband.

“Donovan’s got it handled,” Carly assured them both. “Besides, the guy’s pretty harmless.”
I think
.

“Anyway, Elise Wages is pregnant,” C.J. mumbled as he reached for a second helping of lasagna. Okay, Carly was grateful for the subject change, but she was definitely mentioning the condoms to Matt.

“Well, at least we know her baby’s not yours, Shane,” Molly blurted before her father could shove a piece of bread in her mouth.

Now it was Carly’s turn to choke.

They managed to navigate the dinner conversation to safer subjects so that everyone finished their meal without necessity of the Heimlich maneuver. Carly slipped out before dessert, claiming that she had over indulged in Mexico and she needed to cut some calories. What she really wanted was to get away from the menacing presence seated next to her at the table. Despite all the embarrassing dinner conversation, Shane had eventually managed to relax and join in the banter. Not Carly. She’d had enough verbal confrontation for one day.

* * *

Shane took the stairs two at a time. It was
Saturday and the Blaze corporate offices were empty. His flight back to San Diego was in two hours, but he needed to take care of something first. He hadn’t signed off on the team’s plan for his “image makeover.” Mini-camp had kept him busy the past three days, giving him a convenient excuse to avoid Carly at the same time. Since Carly was a big part of carrying out the plan, he’d pushed thoughts of it—and her—off until the last possible moment. He needed to apologize for the dumb-ass assumptions he’d made the other day, but that meant he’d have to actually be face-to-face with her and he wasn’t sure his body could handle it. The sexual tension between the two of them definitely interfered with his common sense. He needed to be focused and rational to get his job done. So, his plan was to sign the plan—provided he could find a pen on one of the secretary’s desks—and slip it under Carly’s door before his flight left.