Last Play: Book 1 The Last Play Series (10 page)

He was on fire. He closed his eyes.

“Do you still love her, Roman? Your ex?”

He opened his eyes, the fire chilling at the mention of Sheena. “Honestly, I don’t think what Sheena and I had together could be classified as love. I thought it was, but the further away I am from it, the more I see it for what it was.”

“What was it?”

“It was fun. All the time fun, and I was caught up in what it meant to be a star football player. But it was empty. I remember thinking, one time, that it felt like we just lived for the cameras. To build her modeling career, to build my brand.” He shuddered. “It was empty. Really, really empty.”

Then her other hand slid up his right wrist, forearm, and shoulder. He felt himself sigh, and he pulled his hands together behind her waist, pulling her closer, relishing the smell of her. “Hmm.”

She laughed. “You sound like you want to eat me.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I think you might taste like lemon pie.”

She giggled and threw her head back and pulled closer to him.

He couldn’t resist her lips much longer. He liked being this close. Within inches, centimeters. Right there. All he had to do was put his lips on hers.

They breathed, the air electric between them.

“Roman,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he whispered back, lifting his hand and petting it down the hair on her back. “I love your hair, by the way.”

“You do?” She smiled, her white teeth perfect, her lips perfectly kissable.

“I do.” He waited.

Her eyes squinted shut for a moment. “Can I tell you something?”

“Hmm…Hmm.” He was still smoothing her hair down.

Her eyes fluttered. “The therapist said if I had feelings for another man, at some point, that that was normal. That that was good.”

His hand stilled on her hair. Suddenly, she seemed scared. He melted inside. “Katie, we don’t have to kiss. We can take things as slow as you want.”

The side of her lip turned up. “Are you ever nervous playing quarterback, keeping control of the ball?”

He could swear he felt her heartbeat against him. A tremble went through her.

Or had it gone through him? He hesitated. “Last play.”

She leaned back to look at him more directly. “What?”

“My uncle Jim used to tell me, even when I was in little league football, you play every play just like it’s your last play. As if it is the final play to get the touchdown that will win you the game. If you play like that, then when it is the last play, you won’t be nervous.”

She grinned. “Is this the last play?”

Roman grinned to match hers. “With you, Katie Winters, I’m having to play every play my hardest, but I’m hoping this one will lead to a touchdown.”

She cocked her eyebrow. “Touchdown?”

He sighed. “Okay, at least a first down.”

She laughed and looked at his lips. “Let’s find out.”

A sudden knock sounded at the door.

Katie jolted back, as if she’d been woken from a trance. She quickly flew to the door. “Oh, goodness.” She tugged it back, the cold air instantly making the room uncomfortable. “I completely forgot.”

Lou stood there. In Carhartt gear, a beanie cap on his head and large black gloves, his eyes went to Roman and then back to Katie. “Oh, I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting.”

“It’s fine. Come in.” Katie’s voice had gone from whispered and vulnerable a second before to steady.

He took a step in, keeping his eyes on Roman. Roman stood straighter, not being rude, but sure as heck not offering to make the man anymore comfortable. His thoughts whirled. Were Katie and Lou a thing? He thought he’d detected something between them back at the diner, but she’d said nothing about his slight possessiveness.

Lou looked around, took a long sniff. “Dinner? You made him dinner on movie night?”

Roman watched the scowl that darkened Katie’s face, and, when she turned back to him, he saw her cheeks were red.

“Stop it, Lou. We’re friends, okay. And you and I are friends, too.”

“
Friends
.” Lou grimaced. “I was here when your husband died.” His jaw clenched. “Dang it, Katie, I was his best friend. And you’re here with him when tomorrow …” His voice trailed and Roman saw the emotion in Lou’s eyes.

Now Katie’s cheeks weren’t just red, they were flaming red. She turned to face Roman. “I’m sorry.”

Going for his jacket, Roman nodded his head. “No problem. Thank you for dinner, and tell Josh I’ll give him that football tomorrow.”

She opened the door and whispered to him as he moved past. “I guess sometimes it’s better not to know how that last play will go?”

He stopped, their eyes meeting. “No, it’s always better to make the play.”

H
e lay
in the sleep number bed and looked out the window at the crisp night. Mrs. K had stopped by earlier with a tinfoil-covered plate. When he’d admitted that he’d been to Katie’s for dinner, she’d only responded with a wink and then put the leftovers in the fridge for the next day.

She’d stayed for twenty minutes, and they’d sat at the big oak table talking about Henry and her children. He realized how normal it had all felt.

How like … home.

Now, he felt lonely. Honestly, even when he was married to Sheena, he’d been lonely. Alone in his thoughts. Granted, he and Sheena had had an amazing physical relationship, but…they’d never really been friends.

Not really.

Okay, after the divorce had he missed having someone to go to dinner, the movies, and assorted social engagements with? Yes. But he hadn’t really missed Sheena.

He thought about the past two days with Katie. They’d connected. Laughed. Teased. Played. She felt like his friend.

She
was
his friend, he realized. Maybe the only real friend he had.

His thoughts drifted to Katie again. How she’d tricked him into carrying up the tube. Every. Single. Time. Okay, he hadn’t always been tricked, and it had been fun.

The sound of her laugh had made him do the craziest things.

They’d become something more. It wasn’t just that he was attracted to her. Majorly attracted to her. No. It was something … he sat straight up in bed. He was in love with her.

It shouldn’t be such a surprise to him, but it was. He hadn’t been expecting this at all.

He shoved back the covers and stared out the window. It was two am, but he didn’t care. That’s what agents were for. He pushed Jake’s number.

He answered on the second ring. “What are you doing calling me at this hour?”

“You said I could call anytime, rain or shine. Wasn’t that your corny sale when I first signed on with you?”

He heard the sound of covers shuffling.

“What are you doing, Jake?”

“Oh, well, I’m sleeping! Sheesh, but since I have you on the phone, let’s talk. So, you’ll be coming back the day after tomorrow for the meeting, right? Got it lined up for four o’clock. Do you have your flight booked?”

“No.”

“You don’t have your flight?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m getting you one.”

“No. Wait. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

He sighed and thought of how her hands felt in his. How lovely she smelled. How Josh loved donuts, and how they’d both had parents that’d died on them. “I may need a couple more days with this snow. Can you reschedule with the owners?” Honestly, he couldn’t believe he felt so calm about this.

Jake let out what could only be compared to a Star Trek Klingon war cry. “Do I need to send a helicopter to this podunk … I don’t know. Where are you? C’mon, the owners keep saying they’re ready to announce who’s going to lead the pack next year. I think it’s you. I feel it in my bones.”

Roman didn’t answer, only paced the freezing porch. “What if I got out? What would that mean?”

“Out? You’re at the top of your game.”

He looked down at his knee. “What if it’s more than a knee next time?”

“What are you talking about? Is this about your uncle? About death and dying? C’mon, man, you’re not going to die! Look at you, you’re in the best shape of your life.”

Roman listened to his agent continue giving the speech. The one all players and agents gave. The one about being ten feet tall and superman. Nothing would happen. There were things in the contract in case it did happen. But it wouldn’t.

It was strange. For the first time since reading his uncle’s letter and thinking about what more to life than football looked like, he could actually see a vision of what that could be. And that vision involved Katie Winters and the Alaskan Inn.

T
he next morning
he got up early. When he checked his watch, it was 6:30. He hopped out of bed. He needed to run, to do something physical. He got on his snow clothes and went to the barn, the big one with the radio. He started stacking that huge dumped pile of wood where Katie had mentioned it needed stacking.

Of course, once he thought of her, he couldn’t quit thinking of her. Katie. Strong, like a marathon runner with lean muscles. Very feminine. Her eyes sparkled, but they were also sometimes sad, especially when she didn’t know he was looking at her.

He thought of her husband’s grave and the picture of them on the mantel. Their family. He sighed, feeling somewhat sad himself. He would never be that man to her. Then he was immensely irritated. Why was he even thinking about that?

All the thoughts that had passed through his mind last night were ridiculous. Why would he willingly give up a chance to finish out his career? Well, he wouldn’t. He was here to sell this place. When the stupid attorney got through the snow, he would sign the papers. His uncle’s wishes would be satisfied—he’d come, he’d seen, he’d go. Back to his life.

The pictures from her mantle crept back into his mind. Frustrated, he went through the Carhartt pockets, pulled out his phone, and streamed some rock music, but thoughts of her came back. She hadn’t looked as thin in her pictures as she looked now. She was too thin in his mind. Not that he didn’t understand a woman’s drive to be thin. Sheena had been obsessed with it. That’s part of the reason she never cooked, claiming she didn’t want to get fat. But not Katie. No, all he could say after the meal last night was that girl could cook. His stomach grumbled as he thought of the homemade bread.

He thought of sledding with her. They’d had fun yesterday. He paused and wiped the sweat off his forehead. That was more fun than he’d had in as long as he could remember. A nervous stir went through him as he thought about Lou. He hefted a large piece of wood across the barn and then immediately laughed at his Neanderthal behavior. He was jealous of a man that he hardly knew anything about.

A tap on his shoulder sent him jumping, dumping wood all over the place.

“What’s up, QB?” High-pitched laughter sounded through the air.

Katie. She stood there, smiling like a kid on Christmas.

Glaring at her, he threw his hands up. “Is that how you get your kicks?”

She laughed harder. She jumped up and down and wiped tears from the edges of her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so funny.”

“Oh yeah.” He would think she would feel bad about him being scared to death and dumping half the load he’d stacked, but she was so happy. And, for some dumb reason, that made the center of his chest happy.

She peeled off her snow clothes and he saw she was dressed like normal—yoga pants, but this time she wore a faded Destroyers t-shirt. “So I guess we’re working on stacking this woodpile today?”

He picked up more wood. “Nice shirt.”

Throwing a piece of wood on the stack, she lifted a shoulder. “Thought I’d give it a shot.”

Warmth filled him. He watched her; not even trying to stop the grin that he was sure filled his whole face. “So how was Lou last night?” He was trying to bring it up in a very casual way, but it already felt awkward.

Scrunching up her nose, she nodded to the scattered wood. “Can we just work for a bit?”

Silently conceding, he picked up a piece of wood and threw it toward the stack. They both worked side by side for about twenty minutes. She worked hard, which made him work all the harder just to prove that he wouldn’t be outdone.

“Thanks again for last night.” He paused and wiped his forehead in between chucking things.

She threw another piece of wood. “I’m glad you came. Josh had a good time.”

Of course he noticed that she’d said Josh, not her. Lou’s face flashed into his mind. “Josh is a good kid.” It was true. He liked him.

At talk of Josh, she smiled. “He is.”

“You’ve done a good job.” He threw another piece of wood on the stack.

Taking care to go around his path where he was throwing all the wood, she moved toward him. “Thank you for being interested in him. He can’t wait to show all the kids his ball—signed by the great Roman Young.”

He paused. “It’s in the inn on the table.” He hadn’t wanted to forget to give it to her.

She nodded, reaching for a water bottle and then taking a long sip. “Honestly, Josh has done exceptionally well. I think possibly because I was such a wreck after his dad …” she trailed off.

Today. The day he’d died. He sobered. “What happened?”

She hesitated. “I told you how your uncle started paying me before I started working.”

He nodded.

“Well, I don’t know what I would have done without that money. I … was lost, you know. For a few months I just went through the motions—taking Josh to school, clean the house, get dinner, then get in bed and set my alarm for when school would be out. If I hadn’t had Josh …. I don’t know what I would have done.” Tears budded in her eyes then she shook her head. “Anyway …”

He scoffed, “Then you maniacally threw yourself into the inn.” He was getting it now. Why this place was so important to her.

She stared at him and then laughed. “I guess so.” She wagged her finger. “That’s what I like about you.”

Not taking the compliment well, he knew he was blushing. “Thanks, but I don’t say it like it is all the time.”

She laughed again. “You’re pretty honest for a football player.”

Instantly, he thought about the fact he’d been lying to her, at least not telling the whole truth, he reasoned. “Not really.”

“No, seriously, it’s been really great to have you here the past few days. I think the anticipation of something is always harder then the actual thing, don’t you?” She continued. “If I can get through today, then I’ll be good.” She blinked away more moisture in her eyes.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled her into a hug. “You will. You’ll be just fine, Katie Winters.”

Staying against him for a few seconds, he could feel her taking deep breaths.

Then she pulled away. “You know I’ve seen the media stuff on you, and I think that all gets blown out of proportion.”

Now he knew he was getting red. Regret coursed through him. “It wasn’t all a lie. I have done things I’m definitely not proud of.”

She frowned. “My advice is to go easier on yourself. That’s what I learned from my therapist. Let yourself off the hook sometimes. Guilt, anger, and regret can eat you alive. Just put your head down and work hard, that seems to help more than anything.”

Guilt tugged at his conscience. She thought he was a good man. He should tell her he was planning on selling the inn, but, selfishly, he wanted to spend one last day with her before she knew. “Let’s go get lunch.”

She glanced down at her sport’s watch. “It’s not even ten.”

“Exactly, I haven’t eaten today, and you’re too skinny.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”