Impulsive (16 page)

Still half asleep, Jess fumbled her way to the bathroom, grouching
all the while. How could that dratted man be so ever-blasted cheerful this
early in the day? The answer was obvious. He was full of himself this morning,
after two glorious sessions of lovemaking the night before. Meanwhile, she
hadn't gotten her quota of sleep, and was walking like a bow-legged octogenarian.

One look in the mirror, and Jess was glad she'd been cuddled next
to Ty with her back to him. Undoubtedly the rear view had to be better than the
front. She looked as if she'd spent several hours under a street sweeping
machine.

The coffee still hadn't arrived by the time she relinquished
the
bathroom to Ty. "What are they doing, picking fresh beans by hand and
transporting them by donkey?" she groused.

The phone rang just as Ty emerged from the bathroom, looking
bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and perfectly groomed— while she was still
bleary-eyed and barely presentable. It simply wasn't fair!

Jess answered the call. It was room service, wanting to know if
they still wanted their coffee delivered to the room. They apologized for
having to double check, but upon seeing the sign on their door, the boy who had
taken it up a short while ago had returned for further instructions.

"What sign?" Jess asked. Then, to Ty. "Did you hang
the 'Do Not Disturb' sign out?"

Ty shook his head. "Tell them not to bother now, we'll grab a
cup on the way."

Jess relayed the message, and they finished packing their
belongings. On the way out, Jess was holding the door for Ty when she caught
sight of a large sheet of stationery taped to the outer door panel. "Oh,
my lands!" she declared in astonishment.

Ty took one look and started to laugh. "No wonder we never
got that coffee." Someone, most likely the person or persons in the next
room, had printed in large letters, "Do Not Disturb. Rabbits Busy
Humping!"

"It was that darned headboard!" Jess hissed, as though
it would do any good to be quiet now, long after the fact. "It kept
knocking against the wall."

"Or you giggling, and shrieking like an Indian on the
warpath," Ty reminded her.

"Well, if you hadn't kept tickling me..."

Ty grabbed the paper, folded it, and tucked it into his shirt
pocket.

"What did you do that for?" Jess wanted to know. An
expression of horror crossed her face. "You're not going to complain to
the management, are you?"

"Lord, no!" Ty told her, chuckling. "I'm going to
keep it, as a memento of our first night together. Now, let's get moving."
His eyes took on a merry twinkle as he added, in a fair
imitation
of Elmer Fudd, "And be vewy, vewy quiet. Weahr
humping
wabbits!"

It was on the long ride home, during a discussion of the game,
that Jess told him, "I liked that surprise move of yours in the fourth
quarter."

"Which one was that?"

"When you switched direction, and threw left instead of
right, and made that spectacular pitch to Gabe for the touchdown run. That was
very sneaky, and very effective. Up 'til then, the Colts seemed to be reading
every play almost before you or Jack could make it."

"That's why Coach and I decided to change it."

"It must have been an awfully last minute decision," she
concluded. "I heard the original call over my earphones, just before you
broke the huddle."

"Wait a second. I'm getting confused. Are we talking about
the same series?"

"Well, you only threw one T.D. to Gabe," Jess recalled.
"He was on the fifty-yard line when he caught it."

"And it was third down, right?"

Jess nodded.

"Babe, that call was decided on the sidelines, while our
defense was still on the field. I knew it three plays ahead of time. It was
never delivered via audio transmission."

"Oh, well, maybe Coach Danvers was simply relaying the
information to the other coaches upstairs."

"Not if you heard the old play call," Ty pointed out.

Jess frowned. "So why did I hear the false play call go out?
It doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't," Ty concurred. "Was it Danvers'
voice you heard?"

"I'm not sure. There was a lot of static. It could have been
anyone. I just assumed it was him. Why?"

A thoughtful expression furrowed Ty's brow. "It could be that
somebody else, someone who was unaware of the change
in
plans, was transmitting our plays to the opposition. Which would explain why
they were always one step ahead of us, until then. And you've already said that
your headphones were messing up. Maybe... just maybe... you caught a signal no
one on the Knights team was meant to hear."

"But... that's illegal!" Jess exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"You bet your booty it is. Logically, the next question is,
who was giving our plays away?"

"And why?" she added pensively.

"For money, most likely," Ty said in response to her
last query. "Damn!" He hit the steering wheel with his fist, his
anger building. "It's hard enough starting out with a new team, without
having a rat in the pack."

"But who? One of the players? A coach?"

They were on the loop that circled Columbus when Ty took an off
ramp much too early. "Are you lost?" Jess asked. "This isn't my
exit."

"No, it's mine," Ty informed her calmly. "I thought
maybe you'd like to see where I live."

Jess shrugged. "I suppose I should, just in case someone asks
me about it, or mentions something I should know."

"Is that all?" Ty inquired, his mouth quirking with
humor. "Aren't you even the tiniest bit curious, just for yourself?"

"I've wondered a time or two," Jess admitted
nonchalantly. "Does this mean I get to go through your drawers, too?"

Ty chuckled, and gave her a sexy wink. "Honey, you can search
my drawers any time you want."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Boy, you're easy."

Ty had rented a two-story town house in an elite suburban
community enclosed behind a vine-covered brick wall—a complex which came
complete with security gate and guards, landscaped gardens, lighted tennis and
sand-volleyball courts, heated swimming pool, and exercise/spa facilities. At
the gate,
he slipped a plastic card into a slot, punched in a series of
numbers on the key pad, and the gates swung open.

"Wow. I'm impressed. Do they have guard dogs, too?" Jess
commented.

"No, but the security personnel have weapons, and the top of
the wall is imbedded with ground glass to keep out any intruders. I guess they
thought dogs were superfluous, and would probably be more of a nuisance and a
menace than anything, especially to families with children."

"They actually allow children to live here?" she mocked.

"Don't be facetious. The kids even have their own playground,
with all the latest, safest equipment, and there's a twenty-four-hour
child-care center on the premises."

"Now I truly am impressed."

Jess noted with interest that unlike other apartment complexes,
hers included, the units here were not identical to each other. Here, the
planners had gone the extra mile, and each town house was uniquely fashioned
and constructed to resemble a single-family residence. Ty's was the end house
on a cul-de-sac. Instead of abutting a neighbor's property, his backyard
bordered a golf course, providing a pleasant expanded vista. The large brick
duplex was of Spanish design, with half-round roof tiles, arched windows,
wrought iron gates, shutters, and window planters. At either end was a curved
driveway, leading to a garage which faced the side yard rather than the front,
to further the impression of a stately home rather than a condo.

"Nice. Very nice," Jess said. "I can't wait to see
the inside."

She wasn't disappointed. Through the recessed front entry, she
stepped into a marble-tiled foyer. To the right, along the brick wall dividing
the apartments, a spiral staircase curved upward to the second story. To the
left, a wide arch and two semicircular steps led down to a spacious living area
with ten-foot-high walls, vaulted ceiling, ultraplush carpeting, recessed
lighting, and a stone fireplace with built-in bookcases on either side. The
shelves were sparsely filled with a few books, randomly positioned knickknacks,
and several framed photos of Josh. The furniture was dark oak, rustic but
elegant, the thick cushions covered in a diametric southwestern pattern.

"Compared to this, my place looks like a garage sale in progress,"
Jess declared, surveying her surroundings appreciatively. "Did it come
furnished?"

"No. Corey helped me select some of the new stuff. The rest I
already had, or chose myself. And your apartment may be more cramped, and
therefore more cluttered, but it has that lived-in look and feel to it. Unlike
this place, which is nice enough to look at, but lacks the warmth and welcome
of yours."

Jess grinned at him. "Just throw a couple of pairs of dirty
socks around, scatter some newspapers and magazines here and there, an empty
pop can and candy wrapper or so, and you, too, can have that homey aura of
disarray and disorder. It's not difficult to achieve, Ty. Believe me. All you
have to do is spend a little time here and not pick up after yourself so well."

"I don't," he told her. "A cleaning lady comes in
twice a week. Even if I did make a mess, she'd clear it out again. So you see,
there's just no hope for it, unless I fire her. But then I'd be up to my neck
in dirty laundry and pizza boxes in no time flat."

"Not to mention having to clean the tub and toilet yourself,
which I'll bet you've never done in your life," she teased. She glanced
around again, with a more critical eye. "I suppose if you got some plants
it would help. If you like fish, you could put up a fish tank. Or get a big,
hairy cat and buy it a ton of toys."

"The cat would starve to death, or eat the fish," he
predicted. "Then there's that litter box issue. Helen might consent to
feeding the creature, and vacuuming up after it, but I doubt she'll agree to
changing a litter box."

"Then both of you are wimps," Jess decided. "Show
me the rest of the place."

The far end of the living room doubled as the dining area. In
keeping with the overall theme, double glass doors with ornate grillwork led
out to a roofed patio, surrounded by a low brick wall and arched pillars. The
patio extended in an L-shape around the far corner and across the back half of
the house. The kitchen featured Mexican tile floor and countertops, light oak
cabinets, and a butcher block island—above which hung an array of empty hooks
for pots, pans, and utensils, and a wine and goblet rack, equally void.

"This room is criminally barren, to the point of sending back
an echo," Jess observed balefully. "You need some shiny,
copper-bottomed cookware, and some stemware." She eyed the bare counters.
"Copper canisters would be nice, too, maybe a teakettle to match, and some
decorative covers for the range burners. A colorful throw rug or two and a
couple of pretty dish towels would help absorb the sound, since you have those
louvered wood shutters over the windows instead of curtains."

Behind her, Ty chuckled. "Typical female. Show her your home,
and she immediately wants to remodel it."

Jess shrugged. "Sorry, but..."

"Oh, you're going to be more than sorry, Miss Big
Mouth," he told her. "Now that you've spouted off, you can help me
shop for the items you suggested. Let's see what else we should add to the
list, shall we?"

They resumed their tour. Off the kitchen was a small laundry room.
The rear patio was partially enclosed and sported a recessed hot tub; latticed
panels were strategically placed to ensure privacy from the neighbors on either
side while still allowing a view of the golf course. There was a half bath
downstairs, and two full baths up, one for guests and the other off the master
bedroom. There were three bedrooms. The first was a guest room, as yet
unfurnished except for a multitude of unpacked boxes, poking out of which Jess
saw several trophies and award plaques.

"You should have those on the shelves downstairs."

Ty shook his head. "No. While I appreciate having them, I
don't want them on display for one and all. Regardless of anything you may have
heard or read about me, I'm not that egotistical."

The middle bedroom, and the smallest, was obviously Josh's.
Against one wall was a set of loft beds. Pooh Bear, looking a little ragged and
much loved, held the seat of honor on the top bunk. A Mickey Mouse lamp sat on
the dresser. A small bookcase was crammed with children's books and small toys.
A nearby toy box overflowed with larger ones. Tossed into one comer was a
beanbag chair, while a race track was half-erected in another.

Jess smiled. "Ah, a kid after my own heart. Josh goes for the
jumbled look, too, I see."