Tackled by the Girl Next Door (6 page)

Jason stepped onto the porch and lifted his hand to her face. His phone rang. He frowned and muttered a curse.

“Get back to your life, Jason. You belong in your world, and I belong here.” She quietly shut the door in his face, then gave in to the torrent of tears.

Chapter Six

Thanksgiving Day

The alarm’s buzzing woke her. But this time, Jason wasn’t there to roll over her and turn it off. Sam slapped the buzzer and pushed out of bed. Thanksgiving morning. She tugged on workout clothes and then stepped outside and glanced at Jason’s house. His truck was in the driveway. Was he still asleep or awake and watching her from his window? They couldn’t leave things the way they’d parted the day before. What if he continued on to LA after the game? She might not see him for months. With her stomach clenched, her head full of jumbled thoughts and her heart aching, she turned to the road. A run first, to clear her head and organize what to say.

She loped down the familiar streets. Being with Jason was perfect. She didn’t know what to do about their explosive physical responses to each other, but feared becoming another
“
sweet kid” who passed through his life. She preferred the role as his best friend. And a best friend would let him go. She’d explain how she only wanted what was best for him. Taking the job would take him away from her, but he needed to do it.

Sam turned onto her street and slowed to a stop in front of his house. She’d go right over, knock on his door, and apologize. Somehow, they’d make it right. Exhaling the balloon of tension, she grabbed the morning paper off the lawn and started for the front door. Before she reached the first step, the door opened.

Jason’s mother, dressed in a blue bathrobe, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze, leaned out. “Hi sweetie, thanks for bringing that up.”

“No problem, Beth.” She handed over the bundle and shifted her feet. Had Jason told her about their argument?

“Oh, here.” Beth ducked inside the house and returned with a key dangling from a football-shaped key chain. “Jason left you his truck. He said to use it as long as you need it.”

“He’s gone?” Her fingers clasped the cold metal.

“Out of the house at four thirty. He’s flying to Chicago and then straight to LA after the game. Shame he’ll miss out on my cranberry stuffing, but David and I are so excited to see him back in the game. See you tonight for dessert.” Waving, Beth closed the door.

Sam leaned against the truck as her legs weakened. Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she ran her hand over the black glossy paint. Jason granting her use of it for as long as she needed sounded like he didn’t plan on coming back for a long time. Why would he stay? She’d told him to go.

She turned back toward her house. Jason was gone. And so was her opportunity to make things right.

****

Jason drove straight from O’Hare to a small restaurant a few blocks from the stadium to meet with his agent Allen Blake. Allen had been Jason’s best offense in contract negotiations since joining pro football years ago. He negotiated hard, but never left the other side bitter. During Jason’s active years, Allen worked miracles in creating opportunities out of dust. The guy was the real deal, and Jason was lucky to still have him on his side.

Allen stood when Jason approached his table. “Mr. Black risen from the dead. How have you been?”

“Never better.”

They shook hands, and Jason ordered a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs.
Several patrons turned toward them and stared. With this new position, his face would be even more in the public eye. Life as a celebrity had a few perks, but mostly it was a pain in the ass. While playing football, Jason endured constant rumors about his sexual conquests, his undeserved salary, and his wild lifestyle. He preferred a simple life with a wife who loved him despite his bank account and celebrity. A few kids would be pretty cool too.
Sam’s image floated into his mind, but she was a thorn in his side for the moment. He ignored thoughts of her pretty face, to-die-for body, and warm heart and focused on making his future solid, as she requested.

Allen drank his coffee black and rarely ate when he was in negotiations. Too much nervous energy. This deal must be bigger than expected if he was foregoing the blueberry muffin.

“I hope you’ve had a good vacation, because I’m about to make your life crazy again. You’re my most in-demand retired player. Everyone wants you for endorsements, investments, and now this. The deal with the Football Channel is everything you’ve been looking for. You’re in the booth, color commentary, based out of Los Angeles.”

This was exactly what he wanted before he really knew what he wanted. Now, it wasn’t so much a deal as a prison sentence. LA’s perma-sun and plastic bodies didn’t appeal to him anymore. He wanted East Coast autumn temperatures and a feisty accountant.

His silence must have frightened Allen, because he pushed the deal on him like a used car salesman.

“Mr. Forest has decided to give you a pretty generous package to finish out this season. I think he’s hoping you’ll come back the next few years as well. It seems ratings soar whenever your ugly face is on the screen.”

“There’s no understanding taste.”

“True. We’ll meet with the network president right before the game, and you can sign on the dotted line.” He nodded as though that alone would sway Jason’s mind.

The waitress returned with his coffee and eggs and lingered long enough to provide him a silent request. He ignored her. She eventually wandered off and flirted with a guy in a Chicago jersey a few tables down.

“Is anything negotiable?”

“Everything’s negotiable. They want you bad. Their improved ratings over the course of a month will pay for any outrageous demands you make. This is as sure a deal as I’ve ever gone into.”

He had a lot of demands. They all began and ended with Sam. She better appreciate this, because he was about to sign away his newly found freedom all for her. “Grab a piece of paper. You have some work to do before the kickoff.”

****

Clutching a take-out bag, Sam hovered in the doorway of Kevin’s hospital room.

He pulled his gaze away from the television mounted on the wall. “Hey.”

“I brought you a turkey sub in case you don’t like the hospital food.” She ventured a few feet into the room.

A tentative smile spread across his face. “The food’s not so bad here. Maybe you could stay and have the sub while I eat dinner.”

“Sounds good, Kev.” Gratitude for whatever caused his shift from sullen to softer attitude flooded through her. She crossed to his bed. “How’s the leg?”

“It hurts but not as bad as before. I’m sorry for being a jerk.”

She blinked. Kevin apologizing? What was in his pain medication? Maybe the lonely hours stuck in a bed gave him time to think. She shook her head. “You were in a lot of pain the last time. It’s understandable.”

“I’ve been a jerk for a while. Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything you’ve been through these past few years. First, you lost your husband, and then you’re forced to give up your career to take care of me. And you did it without ever complaining. If you hadn’t come home after Mom died, well, I would’ve been pretty messed up. I owe you so much and instead of a thank you, I smash up your car.”

Pinpricks of tears stung her eyes. “I’m your big sister. I’m supposed to watch out for you.”

“You do more than you have to do. I appreciate it.” His cheeks reddened.

She swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. “You’re welcome.”

“Wanna watch the game?”

Letting out a breath, she nodded and settled onto the bedside chair. “Jason’s there, color-commentating.”

“Cool.” Kevin increased the volume.

Jason’s image filled the screen, his black suit perfectly tailored to his form. His smile lit up his features, and an ache welled in Sam’s heart. Throughout the first two quarters of play, he laughed and joked with the other two men in the booth. He was either one hell of an actor or completely unaffected by yesterday’s argument.

Kevin’s dinner arrived during the halftime show. Sam picked at her sandwich while the highlights from the first half played on-screen. Jason’s commentary meshed well with the other analyst’s style and delivery.

“...And we’d like to welcome Jason as a permanent part of our crew. He’ll be joining us in the booth for the rest of the season.”

Her hand froze halfway to her mouth. On-screen, Jason grinned and received back slaps and words of welcome from his broadcast partners. Her meager appetite deflated. She placed her sandwich on the edge of Kevin’s dinner tray and turned away to face the window. The announcer’s words echoing in her head, she wrapped her arms around her torso and stared at the clear blue sky.

“That’s cool for Jason.” Kevin’s voice drowned out the TV’s sound. “I guess he’ll be based out of LA again.”

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. Jason had done what she’d asked. So why did it hurt so much?

Kevin dozed on and off throughout the second half of the game. Sam concentrated on Jason’s voice, blocking out all other distractions. Was he thinking of her at all?

After the post-game show ended and Jason’s image faded from the screen, she drove to his parents’ house from the hospital.

She’d shared holiday dinners with David and Beth for as long as she could remember, but for the first time, trepidation filled her as she knocked on their door.

The door swung open. Beth beamed and gathered her into a hug. “Come in, dear. We just finished watching Jason’s post-game wrap-up. David recorded every minute of his broadcasting debut.”

Sam followed Beth inside. The scent of turkey, pumpkin pie, and coffee competed with the lush scent of roses spilling from an arrangement on the dining room table.

“There she is.” David Black pushed off the dark leather recliner and lumbered to his feet. Jason had inherited his height. “How’s the evil accounting job, sweetie?”

“Still as evil as ever.” She smiled and kissed his cheek. The only day she hadn’t minded work was when she knew Jason was waiting for her, with open arms and a ready kiss. Now, she didn’t have him and dreaded returning to work on Monday.

“The Texas and Denver game just started. Have a seat. Did you see my boy on screen? Almost as good as when he was running all over the field.” He’d lived vicariously through Jason’s exploits on the field and took his son’s forced retirement harder than Jason had. Jason would be relieved to see the smile return to his father’s face.

Sam sank onto the cool leather of the couch, directly under a framed game-worn and autographed jersey embroidered with Number 86, Black. “Jason did a wonderful job.”

Photos of Jason from his playing days and framed newspaper clippings flanked the jersey. His career documented in black and white and action shots bright with color lined the pale gray walls of the family room. No matter where she looked, Sam couldn’t escape his image.

Balancing a tray laden with coffee and pie, Beth crossed the room and settled beside Sam. “Eat. The pie is your mom’s recipe. Hers always tasted the best.”

Sam smiled. “Mom always said the same thing about yours.” She ate a bite and tasted home. A perfect balance of spice and sweetness, just like her mother used to bake.

“You’ve got a crumb on your chin.” Beth handed her a napkin. “How’s Kevin?”

Sam wiped her face. “He’s in great spirits today. He’ll be able to come home in a few days.”

“Hard road ahead with rehab.”

“He’s a tough kid; he’ll handle it. The rehab facility isn’t too far, so I can cart him from rehab to campus pretty easily.”

Beth smiled and touched her arm. “You’re like a daughter to us, so I have to tell you, we are so proud of you. You rose to the occasion, taking care of Kevin all this time and holding it together again now, through his accident and surgery. You’d make your mother proud, too.”

“I’m just glad he’s going to be okay.” After all, Kevin was all she had left.

“Don’t be modest. You’re a good kid.” David nodded. He turned back to the television and yelled at the referee for missing a penalty.

The warmth and support they’d always given her made her feel a welcome part of their family. But what would happen the next time Jason came home, especially if he had a new woman on his arm?

She focused on the action on the field. Hopefully, after time had passed and their feelings leveled out, they’ll be able to have a friendship. The easy relationship they’d shared before their kiss, however, was likely gone forever. Disappointment coursed through her. What if she’d lost him for good?

After the game ended, she bid his parents goodnight and trekked across the lawn, her jacket collar turned up against the biting wind. She indulged in a long, hot shower that did little to ease her sadness and slipped into her flannel pajama bottoms and a white tank top. Restless, she wandered through the rooms of her empty house, picking up anything out of place.

She brewed a cup of tea and pulled a pint of her favorite chocolate ice cream out of the freezer. Fragments of her argument with Jason replayed over and over, like a cruel highlight film. After a few spoonfuls, she pushed the pint away. The flavor was dull and cold.

Just like her life without Jason.

****

At eleven thirty p.m., a taxi dropped Jason off at Sam’s house. The only light came from the kitchen in the back of the house. A heavy ache hampered each step he took toward her door. Not just fatigue, but fear. He had faced off with many giants of men in his football career. Some used their shoulders as battering rams into his chest; others knocked him unconscious into the turf. He could handle that kind of hostile action. His current anxiety, however, involved a little sprite of a thing confused about his actual priorities in life. And their next confrontation scared the hell out of him. He rang the bell and leaned against the doorframe to hold himself upright.