Huddle With Me Tonight (19 page)

“It sounds like you were quite a handful,” Paige said.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Torrian chuckled. He pushed the plates and the platter to the side and refilled their wineglasses. Then he scooted over until he was directly across from her on the blanket. He was tired of having to turn completely because he couldn’t see her out of the periphery of his eyes.

Torrian stretched out his legs next to hers and brought her feet onto his lap so he could massage the soles. A satisfied—if a bit tipsy—grin drew across her kissable lips. If he were closer to them, he would have gone in for another kiss.

“It must be something with boys,” Paige said. “Though my brothers were not as bad as you were. Now I see why you’re so determined to make the restaurant a success for your sister. It’s too bad football keeps you too busy to join her in the kitchen. I have to admit you’ve got skills.”

“Now that you mention it, maybe that isn’t such a bad idea.”

“You’ve still got a while before you’ll have that chance, though.” She took another sip.

“I wish,” Torrian murmured under his breath. After a beat he said, “I have only about a year of playing ball left.”

Paige tipped her head to the side, her eyes squinting in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Torrian sucked in a huge breath and swallowed the unease that was starting to clog in his throat. He’d never said the words out loud, that his football days were nearly over. He’d known the time was coming when he’d have to reveal his condition to his teammates—to the world—but Torrian didn’t think he was ready.

“There’s something wrong with my eyes,” he said. “It’s a genetic disease called retinitis pigmentosa.”

“Oh, my God,” Paige breathed. She scooted closer, raised a hand to his face and caressed his jaw. “How? When?”

He tried to go for nonchalant, but it was too hard. When the words came out, Torrian could hear the unease in his own voice. “I’ve known for a few years. It’s a degenerative disorder that’s slowly eating away at my peripheral vision. It’s the reason I lost the game last year.”

“Oh, Torrian. You didn’t lose that game.”

“Yes, I did,” he stressed. “I didn’t see him coming up on me. If I had my full vision I could have upped my speed, swept to the right, something.”

Paige scooted until she could snuggle onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. She couldn’t possibly know what her contact did for him. Her empathy was a salve to his battered soul.

“What’s the treatment for the disease?” she asked.

“There is none,” he emitted with a bite in his tone he’d been trying to curb.

Her head popped up. She stared at him, her eyes seeking. “Are you saying you’ll eventually go blind?”

He shrugged. “There are studies being conducted, but who knows what’ll come of them. Latoya—Theo Stokes’s sister, she’s my doctor—she says it won’t happen for a long time—decades even, but blindness is inevitable. “
When
I lose my full sight doesn’t matter, though. I’m already a liability. If the team doctors find out about my vision, I’ll be out of this league in a heartbeat.”

Paige caressed his cheek, her eyes filled with understanding. “Torrian, I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was torn between anger and self-defeatism, even though neither emotion was acceptable. He’d stopped looking for sources to blame a long time ago.

Stuff happened. Why should it be any different for him just because he was a celebrity?

“I shouldn’t complain. I’ve had the chance to live my dream. And because my sister was there to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid like blow all my cash on jewelry and cars, I’ve got enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life.”

“What does Deirdre say about all this?” Paige asked.

“I haven’t told her. Dee’s spent enough of her life worrying about me.”

“She’s going to find out eventually.”

“And she’ll threaten to kick my behind for not telling her sooner,” Torrian admitted with a half-hearted laugh. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now my job is to make sure one of her dreams finally comes true.”

Paige caressed his jaw. “You’re a good baby brother.”

“I try.” He smiled, admitting to himself how good it felt to have her approval. When had
that
happened? Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago he’d been mouthing off about how he didn’t care what Paige Turner thought of him?

“It must have been so hard to go through this by yourself.” She snuggled closer.

“I haven’t been totally alone in it. Theo knows, and so does his sister, who, thank goodness, happens to be an ace ophthalmologist and agreed to keep it all under wraps while she treats me. Can you imagine the media frenzy if this got out? I wouldn’t be the only one blaming myself for losing the championship game last year. All of the New York Sabers’ football fans would be on my ass.”

“It wouldn’t be as bad as all that,” Paige said.

“Yes, it would,” Torrian reiterated. “I’ve been dealing with these fans for a long time. I know how they are about their football.” He sighed. “I’ll figure out a way to deal with the fans when the time comes. For now, I want them all to fall in love with Deirdre’s cooking, so when the news about my eyes does break, they will all love the Fire Starter Grille too much to hold any animosity toward the restaurant.”

“Smart thinking,” Paige said.

She linked her hands around him and squeezed him tighter. They sat wrapped in each other’s arms, watching the surf crest gently against the shore. The sun had begun its descent shortly after they’d finished their dinner, and was now sinking into the graying waters of Long Island Sound.

“When you wrote that review, did you ever picture yourself sitting on the beach with me just a few weeks later?”

“Not in a million years.” Paige laughed. “To be honest, I never pictured you ever reading my review.”

“Why wouldn’t I read it?”

She shrugged. “Just thought I was small potatoes; not enough for you to be concerned about. But look at me now. I’m on television; I have people coming up to me, asking for my autograph as if I’m some type of celebrity.”

“Pretty neat, huh?”

“There’s a certain appeal.” She laughed.

“Try not to let the celebrity go to your head,” Torrian warned. There were definite downfalls to being in the limelight.

“I’m enjoying my fifteen minutes of fame,” Paige answered. “But after this is all over, I’m happy to go back to being little Paige Turner, entertainment writer. Of course, it’ll be nice if a few more people were able to read it, as in just about every airline passenger in the U.S.”

“You’ll get the syndication deal,” Torrian all but promised. “We’ll make sure you get plenty of face time with Cambridge tomorrow night.”

“Good. I’m going to charm the pants off him.”

“Hmm…I don’t know about that,” Torrian said. “If you plan on charming the pants off somebody, it should be me and only me.”

Paige threw her head back, her laugh echoing around the quiet beach. “I’m ready to swim. You want to join me?”

“It’s October. The air may be a little warmer than usual for this time of year, but that water will be cold.”

“You’re not going to let a little cold water stop you, are you?” Paige asked.

Normally he would, but when she looked at him with that smile, Torrian had a hard time denying her anything. “I’ll have to go and get my trunks,” he said.

“You know,” she pushed herself up and looked from side to side, “you were right. This beach is pretty secluded.” She stood, caught the hem of her dress and brought it over her head, leaving her delectable body clad in only a skimpy pair of lilac panties. She headed for the water, and Torrian let out an audible groan at the way the lace barely covered her perfectly rounded cheeks.

Paige turned back. “Are you coming?”

“Hopefully more than once tonight,” Torrian said under his breath. He scooted up from the sand and tore off his clothes, leaving a trail along the beach as he followed Paige.

They lasted less than five minutes in the frigid water.

“Those…polar bear…people…are…idiots,” Paige stammered through her shivering teeth.

“So, what does that make us?” Torrian asked, swathing her in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed his hands up and down her arms as they trudged through the sand back up to his house.

“Even…bigger idiots,” Paige said.

Torrian kissed her shoulder. “I can think of several ways to warm us up.”

Ten minutes later, she was still in his arms, surrounded by a bath full of sandalwood-scented bubbles.

“Mmm,” Paige moaned, settling her back against his chest. “I can’t believe you don’t come here more often. This is your own piece of heaven on earth.”

“Maybe if I had someone to join me…”

Torrian felt her stiffen and realized what he’d just said. He was about to tell her not to read too much into it, but stopped himself. They needed to address this. He sure as hell wasn’t ready to give her up anytime soon. If ever.

The admission jolted him. When had he started thinking this way? He and Paige were having a good time; it’s all they’d agreed to. And by the way she’d clammed up on him, it’s all she wanted.

“What did you mean by that?” she asked.

It was his invitation to backpedal. He could tell her the words had come out wrong. That she’d misunderstood him.

Instead, Torrian whispered near her ear, “Just what I said.” He captured her shoulders, which were even softer after being submerged in the creamy bubbles, and turned her around to face him.

“Where do you see this all heading?” he asked.

“I don’t want the competition to be the end of our time together,” she said, and Torrian’s heart soared.

“Neither do I. I also don’t want to hide anymore,” he added. “I want people to know you’re my woman.” He felt her instantly tense and Torrian suppressed the urge to groan. What was it with her? “What’s the point in hiding, Paige? I don’t care that people see us as a couple.”

“I do,” she said. “Torrian, I—”

He gave her a squeeze when she faltered. “
If
I get this syndication deal, I don’t want people thinking it’s because of you. And
I
don’t want to think it’s because of you either.”

He shook his head. “Paige, that doesn’t make any sense. No one is going to give you a big syndication deal just because you’re going out with me.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve been in this business long enough to know how it works. You said it yourself, Stephen Cambridge has been trying to get you to one of his parties for years, and now you’re going because of me. If he found out I was the sole reason you finally accepted his invitation, don’t you think he’d go a few extra steps to try to impress you?

“If the Cambridge Group picks up my column, I don’t want to always wonder if it’s because they liked my writing or because they were trying to get into my boyfriend’s good graces.”

He kissed her temple and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Her hair was so soft. Everything about her was soft, delicate. Perfect.

“Fine.” Torrian released on a sigh. “I’m willing to keep things quiet a bit longer, until after you get the syndication deal.”

“
If
I get the deal.”

“
After
you get the deal. Cambridge would be a fool not to pick you up. I’ve read your stuff. Even when you’re dogging out an amazing cookbook by a handsome football player, you’re awesome.”

“I think dogging out that cookbook was the smartest thing I ever did,” she answered, leaning close until her mouth was less than an inch from his. “If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be where we are right now.”

Torrian squeezed the hand he’d been holding since they left his house a few minutes ago. Stephen Cambridge’s place was less than a third of a mile walk. Paige had insisted it was stupid to drive the short distance, so Torrian agreed to walk if he was allowed to hold her hand up until they arrived at the house.

A thrill rushed through her body whenever she thought about the fact that he wanted to make their relationship public.

I want people to know you’re my woman.

When he’d said those words, her body had instantly reacted to the possessiveness in his voice. It was primal, barbaric. And she’d loved it. He wanted her, and wanted everyone to know it.

“That’s the house,” Torrian said, nodding toward a palace of glass coming up about thirty yards ahead of them. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Paige answered.

He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine.” He picked up the pace, and in a matter of minutes Paige found herself entering a home unlike any she’d ever seen. The ceiling seemed to extend forever, with glass windows stretching the full length of three stories. They were greeted by two attendants. One who took her light wrap, and another who offered them a drink.

“None for me,” Paige answered.

“Are you sure?” Torrian asked after ordering himself a rum and coke. “It may help with the nerves.”

Paige shook her head. “With my luck, the alcohol would upset my stomach and I’d throw up all over him.”

Torrian grimaced through a smile. “Okay, yeah. No drinking for you until after you’ve cornered Cambridge. Come on, let’s mingle.”

Paige anticipated a few people would recognize her from
Playing with Fire
, but she was stunned—speechless, in fact—by just how many read her weekly column and followed her blog.

This was the upper crust of New York society. She didn’t recognize the faces, but the last names were those you heard about when people spoke of old money. Paige was racking her brain, trying to remember where she’d heard the name of the woman who was speaking to her right now.

“We’re having a gala at the museum next weekend,” the woman said. “It would be wonderful if you and Torrian could make an appearance. You’ve become a hit with New Yorkers.”

The museum. That was it. The woman’s family had funded an exhibit on Asian culture at the Museum of Natural History.

“I’ll talk to Torrian,” Paige answered. “I’m not sure what his schedule looks like, but if we can both make it, we will.”