After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3) (10 page)

When she read the articles, all these years later, Violet
felt oddly removed. As though it happened to someone else. She was able to look
at the facts without the emotion she had felt when she was nineteen.

The first gave a sketchy outline of the details. A hit and
run by a drunk driver. The victim sustained serious but non-life-threatening
injuries.

The next story delved a little deeper into the accused, Don
Benson. He had been arrested that night, witnesses leading the police to him
almost immediately. His blood alcohol level had registered way over the legal
limit. Enough to impair
three
grown men. There was a colorful account of
the arrest.

Don Benson didn’t go quietly. Sporting a gash on his
forehead and his arm in a homemade sling, he yelled, cursed, and blindly swung
at the police, causing significant damage to the residence. They had to hold
him down to cuff him.

The whole time, his wife, Wynona, cried and screamed that they
were making a horrible mistake. Her husband had been with her all evening. She
would swear to it. Too many people gave statements to the contrary for that to
fly. But to the bitter end, she stuck by her story. According to Wynona, Don
Benson was the victim.

Apparently, Don Benson wised up. The third article was short
and to the point. He pleaded no contest. In exchange for agreeing to spend
thirty days in an alcohol rehabilitation facility and continue counseling for
at least two years, the judge suspended his driver’s license and sent him on
his way. It was the equivalent of a slap on the wrist.

Violet couldn’t imagine what the judge had been thinking. As
the prosecutor argued, Don Benson was obviously a danger to his wife and the
community. Sympathy should have been in short supply for such a man, yet for
whatever reason, Gaige’s father seemed to walk under a lucky star. Others
suffered while he went free to cause chaos again and again.

The final article was really nothing more than a squib. Don
Benson completed rehab and was released. Nothing more. Had he kept his nose
clean ever since? Whatever he did, and Violet was certain he was guilty of
something, he hadn’t gotten caught.

“Are you trying to wear a hole in the sidewalk?”

Violet stopped and looked at Gaige.

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Yes.” When she didn’t respond, he held up a bright red box
with the diner’s logo on it. “I have pie?”

Violet felt a bit of her anger fade. She wasn’t mad at
Gaige—not really. He was so well adjusted—so sexy and fun to be with—it was
easy to forget the environment he grew up in. It made perfect sense that every
time he fell into a funk, he worried that it was his father bubbling to the
surface. He should know better, but appearances aside, Gaige Benson wasn’t
superhuman. He had his insecurities—just like the rest of us.

Violet wanted him to know that she understood. But she wasn’t
going to do it outside of the diner where everyone could watch.

“Take me back to my hotel so I can pack.” Violet started
across the street.

“Are you leaving?” Gaige jogged beside her. “Are you going
back to New York?”

“Not until Tuesday.” Violet waited for him to open the
passenger door. Even during a fight, he was a gentleman. “Until then, I’m
moving in with you. Unless you have a problem with that.”

Gaige grinned. “No problem at all.”

When he leaned in to kiss her, Violet stopped him, her hand
planted firmly on his chest. “Look at the diner.”

The big plate-glass windows on each side of the door were
filled with spectators, enjoying the drama playing out for their entertainment.

“Every one of them has a phone. The pictures they’ve taken
will garner some interest. But a kiss will show up on TMZ. The lead story, if
it’s a slow news day. I’d rather skip that experience.”

“You get used to it.” But he didn’t argue, helping her into
the car.

“Again with the jokes,” Violet said when he slid behind the
wheel.

Gaige started the car and pulled into traffic. “Who said I
was joking?”

GETTING VIOLET SETTLED at his place didn’t take long.

She had two bags, one large, one small. Gaige didn’t give
her the option of staying in one of the guest rooms. Why press his luck? She
was here. In his home. Putting her clothes in his closet next to his. Tonight,
he would hold her in his arms as she drifted off to sleep—after they made love.

Would you like to stay in the room down the hall
?
Hell no!

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked as they walked
down the long staircase.

“No, thank you.” Violet took his hand, stopping to admire
the view. “It feels like so much time has passed since we stood here. But it
was only a few days ago.”

“A lot has happened.” And so much still needed to be said.

“The lights on the water are beautiful. Do you spend time on
your deck when the weather is nice?”

“If I’m home, I’m outdoors.”

When Gaige purchased the land on Lake Washington, he did it
with the idea of building his dream home from the ground up. He had an idea
what he wanted. Big, open rooms. Windows that reached from floor to ceiling to
take advantage of the beautiful Pacific Northwest scenery.

Gaige hadn’t rushed to get the house done. He took his time
because he wanted it done right. This would be his home for a long time—maybe
the rest of his life. Perfect he could live without. However, it had to be as
close as possible.

The house was comfortable. Exactly what he envisioned—but
there had always been something missing. Until Violet walked through the door.
For the first time, it felt like home.

“Let’s wrap up our discussion.” Violet led him to the sofa.

“Are you still pissed off?”

“No. But it will happen again if you ever compare yourself
to Don Benson. Technically, he’s your father. I consider him nothing but a
sperm donor.”

“I hate him.”

“I’m right there with you.”

“I wish I didn’t.” It was difficult to explain something
he
struggled to understand, but he tried. “I would love not to feel anything.
Anger takes energy. He’s not worth it.”

“How often do you think about him?”

“Rarely. Only when my mother decides it’s time to remind me.”

“Then I say keep hating him. Forgetting him—what he’s
done—isn’t possible. Not for either of us. If we let ourselves indulge in some
good old-fashioned anger now and then, where’s the harm?”

“I would agree if it were only that.”
God, how to say
this
. “There are moments. Not often, but very real, when I fall into a pit.”

“Depression?” He could see the worry in Violet’s eyes.

“Not exactly. I feel the need to get out of my head. I want
to leave Gaige Benson behind for a few hours. Does that make sense?”

Violet wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling close.
It felt good—she felt good.

“What do you do when you feel that way?”

“I pick a bar. There are two or three that I like. Then I
start drinking.” Considering his father was a fall-down-drunk alcoholic, Gaige
wasn’t proud of his choices. “I don’t get shit-faced, but I maintain a definite
buzz.”

“And what, sit in a corner and brood?” Violet asked. “Or do
you find somebody to play with?”

“Well, hell. How did you figure that out so fast?”

“You’re a social person, Gaige. It makes sense that you
would seek out… companionship. I’m not a big fan of one-night stands, but you’re
a big boy. As long it doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s your business.”

“I got in a fight. Once.”

“Oh, brother.”

He heard exasperation, not disgust in Violet’s voice. That
was good.

“I threw one punch. He hit me back. End of story.”

“Are you crazy?” Violet took his hand, turning it from side
to side. “You make a living with these. Did you break any bones?”

“It was years ago,” Gaige laughed. “And no, not even a
bruise. My face wasn’t as lucky.”

“What?” Violet bolted upright. Taking hold of his chin, she
leaned in close. “I don’t see any scars. Where did the jerk hit you?”

“Here.” He pointed to his right cheek and was rewarded with
Violet’s tender kiss. “I like that. It makes me wish he’d done more damage.”

“At least tell me you gave as good as you got.”

“He left with a bloody nose. The next day I tracked him down
and paid to get it x-rayed. There was plenty of swelling but no break.” When he
saw the look Violet gave him, he asked, “What?”

“You’re worried about demons?” She peppered his face with
kisses. “You big sweetheart. Bad guys don’t take their victims to the doctor,
Gaige.”

“I’m bad,” Gaige flipped Violet onto her back, covering her
body with his. “When I want to be.”

To prove his point, he kissed her. It wasn’t a sweet, gentle
exploration. He moved in hard and fast, changing angles. Taking a long,
ravenous taste.

Violet sighed, twining her arms around his neck. When he
slowly pulled back, he watched as she slowly ran her tongue over her lips.

“Yum.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” He gave her another
kiss. “Ready for dessert?”

“Pie? Or you?”

“Why not both?”

“Perfect.”

Gaige rolled to his feet then helped Violet off the sofa.

“I have ice cream.”

“Two scoops. Gaige?”

“Hmm?” He took the carton of vanilla from the freezer.

“I know you would never hit me.”

His eyes jumped to hers. Gaige’s stomach settled when he
realized it was a statement, not a question.

“Never.” He would walk away if he thought there was the
slightest chance.

“There is only one way you could hurt me.” Violet’s gaze
didn’t waver. “Lies corrode from within, a little bit at a time. You think you
have something solid until one day it collapses around you.”

“Violet—” He hated to make a promise he wasn’t certain he
could keep. If there were something she couldn’t change and the information
caused her pain, Gaige knew he would keep it to himself. A lie by omission. He
didn’t think Violet would appreciate the distinction.

“You’re right. And yes,” she answered before he could voice
the question, “there will be times when I can read your mind.”

“I better watch my step.”

“Damn straight. Lies,” she reiterated. “If it’s big, you
have to tell me. No matter how difficult or painful. Can you promise me that?”

What constituted big?
Gaige wondered. It would be a
case-by-case decision. Hopefully, the question wouldn’t arise.

“I promise.”

“Good. I’m ready for something sweet.”

“Pie or sex?”

She sent him a provocative smile. “Both.”

“TAKE THOSE WITH you, then read and send them back before the
end of the week. The sponsor wants to get rolling on the ads before the start
of the playoffs.”

Gaige added the paper to his briefcase.

“I need you to take care of something else, Walter.”

Walter Crenshaw leaned back in his chair and studied his
favorite client. Gaige Benson was a dream to represent. He conducted himself as
a professional, avoided trouble, and nearest and dearest to Walter’s heart, was
a money-making machine. It had been that way from the day Gaige signed with him
straight out of college, and it was hard to imagine any scenario where that
would change.

It wasn’t that Walter didn’t like Gaige as a person. He did.
They were friends in and out of the office. But where was it written that your
friends couldn’t make you money? Show him that passage and he would piss all
over it. His relationship with Gaige was mutually beneficial, and Walter
planned for it to stay that way for many years to come.

“The last time I heard that tone in your voice was…
honestly, I can’t remember the last time.”

“Sixteen years ago.”

“When you were drafted?” Puzzled, Walter searched his
memory. Then it hit him—hard. A sucker punch to the jaw. Reeling, he put on his
best non-committal agent’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Gaige laughed. “Nothing is wrong. Just the
opposite. I want you to clear it with the sponsor to let me bring a friend to
the shoot. I know it’s considered hush-hush, but I can guarantee Violet isn’t
interested in spilling secrets.”

Violet
. It wasn’t a name he heard every day.
Fuck
,
Walter thought. Why couldn’t the past stay buried? He thought he had dug a nice
deep hole, but apparently it hadn’t been deep enough.

“I heard a rumor you were seeing a new woman. Anyone I know?”

“She isn’t new. She’s…” Gaige took a deep breath, then
grinned. “Violet Reed. Remember? The mess with my father. The young woman he
injured.”

“Right,” Walter said. His tone was casual, but his insides
jumped around like lightning bugs in a mason jar. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long.” Gaige slipped on his jacket. “Get back to me as soon
as you speak to the sponsor. If there’s a problem, have them call me directly.”

“That’s it?” Walter laughed through gritted teeth. “No
details?”

Walter had spent years cultivating his father/son
relationship with Gaige. True, Gaige needed that dynamic more when he was
younger. If he were honest, they weren’t as close as they once were. There was
a time when Gaige would share details of his personal life, or come to Walter
for advice. Not anymore. Gaige’s friends and outside football interests kept
him busy—and Walter had been fine with that. He wasn’t the hand-holding type.
As Gaige became more and more independent, Walter was content to sit back and
let the money roll in. He suddenly realized it might have been a mistake.

“Another time,” Gaige slapped him on the back. “We’ll grab a
beer one day soon. Right now, I have a lady waiting.”

The door shut behind Gaige. Walter looked around his office.
When he first signed Gaige, he worked out of a clean but less than desirable
building on the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles. His clients barely brought
in enough to pay the rent. He certainly couldn’t have lined his walls with
paintings worth over a million dollars.

The move to Seattle had made perfect sense. He could keep an
eye on his meal ticket and cultivate some local talent. Walter liked the city.
But he loved his office. It was perfect. Rich leather, a seventeenth-century
desk that once belonged to a king. Plus, a gorgeous view of Puget Sound.

Walter’s bank account was in good shape. But how long would
that last if Gaige dropped him? A trip to the Super Bowl would solidify the
Benson brand. A win would mean unending endorsements. Television appearances.
Possible movie deals. Walter wanted his percentage. Damn it, he had earned it.
Years of pushing and maneuvering for the best deals possible, it was his right
to cash in for as long as Gaige was a viable money maker.

No bitch from the past would derail his money train. Not
now. Not ever.

Walter picked up his phone. There was a number he had never
used, but he diligently kept it on his contacts list for a rainy day. Right
now, it was only a drizzle, but Walter was afraid the skies were about to open
up. It was time to prepare himself for the deluge.

VIOLET WONDERED IF she were pushing her luck. She was happy. Happier
than she could ever remember. All she could think about was Gaige. Yet, she
wanted more—she wanted everything. He had become such an important part of her
life in such a short time, she wondered if she were setting herself up for a
terrible fall.

Not that she was miserable before coming to Seattle. She had
a great life. Her job was more than she could have hoped for when she used to
dream of medical school and beyond.

She helped people. That had always been her ultimate goal.
Violet knew what it was like to live with the fear that she would never see
again. She had been lucky. Her injuries weren’t permanent, but that didn’t
always matter. Her doctor had made the difference. His skill as a surgeon was
the difference between success and failure. Now, because of him, Violet was
able to use her training in the same way. There was nothing like unwrapping a
patient’s bandages and being the first thing they saw after weeks, sometimes,
months of darkness.

It never became old. When it did, she would hang up her
scalpel.

“I love you.” Riley gave Violet a hug, squeezing hard. Her
dark brown hair was pulled into a casual ponytail. On the surface, her
long-sleeved navy shirt and blue jeans seemed casual, but Riley managed to give
them a touch of elegance.

“That’s nice,” Violet laughed, hugging her back. “How much
have you had to drink?”

“One beer.” Her eyes were unnaturally bright, making Violet
give her a skeptical look. “I swear. My high is one hundred percent natural.
And you are the reason.”

“I’m glad I could be of service? Care to share what I did to
send you on this trippy trip?”

“Right there.” Riley pointed to where Gaige and Sean were
tending the electric grill. “You are the best thing to happen to Gaige in a
long time. He’s my best friend, and I want the best for him.”

“And that’s me?”

“Absolutely.”

Violet liked the sound of that. She hoped Gaige felt the
same.

They were on the deck of Gaige’s house. The late Monday
afternoon weather was unseasonably mellow, prompting him to insist that it was
time to grill some steaks. Why waste the energy on two people? He invited Sean
and Riley. Then Logan and Claire. Sol and his wife had to be included. Soon,
half of the Knights wandered around with a beer in one hand and a plate full of
food in the other.

“Are you feeling a little overwhelmed?” Claire asked. She
looked as put together as Riley. The blue of her suede jacket made her eyes
appear almost turquoise. “These guys are a tad larger than your average banker
or office manager. Thirty or so football players in one place—other than a
field or locker room—can intimidate the uninitiated.”

Violet hadn’t thought about it. She liked Gaige’s friends.
The men were funny. They treated her with an easy, playful respect that she
found refreshing. The wives and girlfriends were a little less welcoming. Yes,
it was established right away that she was here with Gaige. But these ladies
were leery of new blood. It wasn’t easy to land a professional football player.
They watched out for anyone who might set their sights on usurping their
hard-won position.

It was a sad way to live, but Violet tried not to judge them
too harshly. She didn’t live in their world. A world that, to the average
person, was foreign and exotic.

A football wife. Perhaps National Geographic should send a
team to study them in their natural habitat.

“The men are fine. It’s the women I’m worried about.”

Riley nodded. She kept the volume of her voice low. “I had a
run in with that herd. They wield a lot of power. Once they understand that you
aren’t the enemy, they will give you the shirt off their pampered backs.”

“Riley isn’t kidding,” Claire said. “But don’t think they’re
all former beauty queens and reality stars. Some of these women have thriving
careers in their own right. And one owns the team.” She winked at Riley. “You
don’t find that every day.”

“It’s not like I earned it.”

“Listen to her,” Claire laughed. “She’s a big reason the
Knights are going to win the Super Bowl. Oh, shit.” Claire looked around, her
eyes a little panicky. “Thank God there isn’t a player within earshot.”

“Why?” Like Claire, Violet scanned the room. “What was wrong
with what you said? They
are
going to win the Super Bowl.”

Riley laughed, her eyes sparkling. “It’s taboo to mention
it. Especially this late in the season. Gaige is particularly prickly on the
subject. He’s not big on superstitions, but jump ahead, even one game, and he
will give you that stare.”

“The stare,” Claire shuddered. “I’ve never been on the
receiving end. It’s icy and scary and intense, and… well, you get the idea.”

After pondering the information for several seconds, Violet
announced, “I want to see it.”

Riley and Claire exchange surprised looks.

“Why?” Riley seemed genuinely perplexed.

“I feel so far behind. You and Claire. Everyone in this
room. You know Gaige so much better than I do. Is it crazy to say that I want
to speed things up and slow them down all at the same time?”

“Oh, honey, you have it bad.” Claire gave Violet a one armed
hug. “Loving any man is a bumpy ride. Loving Gaige Benson? I can’t imagine.”

“I don’t know if it’s love.” Even as she said it, Violet
knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. But it was too soon to shout it to the world—or
to Gaige. Claire and Riley didn’t push the subject, for which Violet was
grateful.

“You never felt a twinge of interest?” she asked Claire.

Violet knew Claire’s story. Gaige sponsored her through
college, giving her moral support and helping with her tuition. It was hard to
imagine not falling for him a little bit.

“Sure,” Claire smiled. “The first time he looked at me,
those green eyes made my stomach do a slow flip. He has a way of looking
straight into your soul. You know what I mean?”

“Oh, I know.” Violet hadn’t felt it the first time around.
It was his kindness and that sexy voice that won her heart. But now, all it
took was one look to turn her into a quivering bundle of hormones.

“Me too,” Riley admitted. “Mind you, I’ve known Gaige since
before I was a teenager. He’s my big brother and fiercest champion. That doesn’t
mean I’m immune. Not that long ago I wished it was Gaige I had fallen in love
with—not Sean. What a disaster that would have been.”

“Women like him.” It wasn’t news to Violet. What wasn’t to
like? However, it was a bit disconcerting.

“Women. Men. Teenagers. Small children,” Riley ticked them
off on her fingers.

“Dogs. Cats,” Claire continued. “It’s hard to find someone
who
doesn’t
like him. Except opposing teams and their fans.”

“Even they have a grudging respect for Gaige.” Riley took a
sip of beer. “I can’t think of a single NFL franchise that wouldn’t sell their
future for one season with Gaige taking the snap.”

“They’re out of luck. Gaige is a Knight for life.” Claire
sighed. “It won’t be the same without him.”

“Claire!”

“What?” Violet looked at an exasperated Riley, then at
Claire, who closed her eyes and sighed. “Tell me what you meant.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Violet. It’s been on my
mind—on all our minds. Besides, Gaige should have told you.”

“Told me what?”

“This is my last season,” Gaige said. “Whatever happens, I’m
going to retire after the last game.”

Violet hadn’t heard him approach. From their expressions,
neither had Claire or Riley.

“I’m sorry, Gaige. It slipped out.”

“It’s okay, honey.” Gaige affectionately tapped a finger
against Claire’s chin. “You’re right. I should have told Violet.”

“Oh, look. Sean and Logan are trying to get our attention.
Let’s find out what they want.”

Riley urged Claire along, leaving Violet and Gaige alone. Or
as alone as you could be in a crowd of very big men and their women.

“Let me nip this in the bud.” Violet didn’t want there to be
any misunderstandings. “There was no reason for you to tell me.”

Gaige didn’t look convinced. Violet thought she knew why.
She placed her hands on his waist, tipping her head to look into his eyes.
Claire hit the nail on the head. His eyes could see all the way to her soul.
The beauty of it was that she could see his as well.

“I am not a high-maintenance woman. You don’t have to hold
my hand if my great aunt’s cat dies or worry about leaving me to my own devices
if you want to get a beer with the guys.”

“This is a little more important, Violet.”

“Were you planning on telling me?”

“Of course. We’ve been busy with other things.”

“Hold me close.” When he did as she asked, Violet whispered.
“Between our letters and marathon sex, when did you have the time?”

Gaige chuckled. He rubbed his lips against her ear. “In the
shower?”

“Nope. As soon as you took the amazing lemon-scented soap
and lathered your hands, I couldn’t think, let alone listen.”

“In the tub?” He moved from her ear to neck.

“Same problem.”

“I would have told you.” Gaige pulled her tight.

“I know. And I can’t wait to hear your reasons. You’re still
young.”

Gaige snorted.

“Relatively speaking. I can verify that you’re in terrific
shape. The only reason I can think that you would retire is if—” Violet gasped.
“You’re not… Please tell me you’re okay.”