Chasing Jillian: A Love and Football Novel (11 page)

“Me? You’re the one who needs a hug,” she said.

He’d done stuff in this bed with other women that would make a porn star blush, but when Jillian moved closer and her arms slid around him, the only urge he had was to lay his head on her shoulder. He heard her murmur in his ear, “I’m so sorry that I’ll never get to meet him.”

“Yeah. Me too.” It was all he could get out.

She held him. The knot in his stomach unraveled a little. He felt her arms slowly withdraw, and he sat up again. He had no idea what to say. She was silent, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. How did she know exactly what to do when the hospital social worker, the counselor the entire family saw after Liam died, and the team psychologist didn’t seem to get it?

He heard Lauren shouting from downstairs. “Seth, Owen’s here. He wants to know how many people are coming to dinner.”

“Let’s go.” He stood up and reached out for her hand.

Jillian and Seth walked into the kitchen to find Lauren heckling the chef. Owen had a shaved head. He was several inches shorter than Seth. He sported a beer belly, tats, and hoop earrings. He evidently favored brightly printed chef’s pants, a spotless white chef’s coat, and Chuck Taylor high-tops. He also seemed to love giving Lauren all kinds of grief.

“Listen, little girl. I hate to break it to you, but your brother signs my check. Therefore, I cook what he wants for dinner. Maybe you should try talking with him.”

“He told me that he was going to ask you to make the vegetable gratin.”

“He told me that he wants steak for dinner, so there.”

Seth gave him a nod. “Remind me to give you a bonus. She needs to understand that I’m the boss of her.”

“I’ll put starch in your boxers, buddy,” Lauren retorted.

“Oooh. Color me scared.” Seth mussed her hair as he walked past. “Hey, Owen, you have the stuff to make the gratin, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I’ll start it right now.”

Lauren stuck her tongue out at Seth.

“I
S THERE ANYTHING
I can do to help with dinner?” Jillian asked.

“Things are under control,” Seth reassured her. He picked up the platter of perfectly done steaks to put on the kitchen table. “Want to eat with us, Owen?”

“I’d love to, but I have another job tonight. Thanks, man.” He fist-bumped Seth. “Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. How about seven?”

“Perfect.” Owen picked up his knife case and let himself out the front door.

Seth, Jillian, and Lauren took seats at the kitchen table and passed the food around. Seth took a sip of his glass of Syrah and glanced over at Lauren.

“Listen, Pee-Wee, Jillian and I were talking earlier.”

Lauren took a bite of her food. “This is even better than it was the other night. What’s up?”

“I was talking to her about Liam.”

Lauren’s head snapped up. She looked panicked.

“I want to put something in the backyard for him. We’re both here now. He should be here too. Will you help me pick it out?”

Lauren’s fork hit the plate with a clatter. She put one hand over her mouth and sat motionless.

“Mom and Dad have a bench. Maybe we should get something like that.” He had to see that Lauren’s face was papery white. She was shaking. Tears swam in eyes that looked anywhere but at the two of them. “I go out in Mom and Dad’s backyard sometimes, sit on the bench, and talk to him. It’s weird. It’s almost like he can hear me.” He reached out for Lauren’s hand. “If you don’t like that, we can look at some other kind of thing.”

Jillian felt like she was watching a car wreck in slow motion—the cars were spinning out of control toward each other, the drivers wrenched the wheel, tried to swerve, prayed, and it did no good. They’d collide no matter what, and all she could do was look on. Seth was probably trying to cope with his own grief the best way he knew how—talking about it—but Lauren was obviously still too raw inside to even consider discussing her feelings in front of anyone who wasn’t a family member.

Lauren’s voice came from a million miles away, rusty and indistinct. “No.”

She jumped up from the table and ran through the kitchen. They heard her footsteps on the stairs.

Seth and Jillian sat for a few minutes. She wasn’t sure what to say. He took another sip of wine.

“She really needs you right now,” Jillian said before she could bite it back.

His voice was rough with emotion. “I’ll go up there in a few minutes. I have to figure out what the hell I’m going to say.” He picked up his wineglass again and set it down. “She . . . my mom told me that sometimes she needs to cry, and I should understand that, but I feel like someone stuck a knife in my gut every time I see tears.”

He leaned back in his chair and dropped his hands into his lap. His appetite was evidently gone.

A
FEW HOURS
later, Seth climbed the stairs to Lauren’s room. He’d almost figured out what to say to her.

The door stood open. Moonlight bathed his sister’s sleeping form. She still had her cell phone in her hand. He moved silently across the bedroom rug, extracted it, and put it on the night table. He picked up the lavender blanket off the chair and spread it over her. She rubbed her nose with one hand, but she slept on. The big talk he wanted to have was going to have to wait until tomorrow.

He lowered himself into a chair by her bed, stretched out his legs, and closed his eyes. He’d dropped Jillian off at her car a couple of hours ago. He hadn’t wanted her to leave, but she had things to do.

H
ER KEY RING
had jingled as she pulled it out of her purse. Her face had been in shadow, even if the moonlight painted her hair a silvery blonde.

He’d stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Listen. I didn’t mean to get you in the middle of some big family argument. I should have waited and talked to Lauren about my idea later and let her have a chance to think about it.” He had shrugged his shoulders. “I really screwed up.”

She reached out to pat his arm. “You’re too hard on yourself. Plus, she was probably reacting more to discussing Liam in front of someone she just met than to your idea. I’ll bet if you go back to your house and talk to her, she’ll have had some time to think, and she’ll react differently.” Jillian took a breath. “I know you tease each other, but she loves you so much. She misses Liam as much as you do.”

He’d handed Jillian a chance on a silver platter to make him feel like crap over the fact he didn’t get how upset Lauren was about any mention of Liam until it was too late. She hadn’t done it. Instead, she’d looked up at him with gentle, concerned eyes and told him she knew he could fix it. She always believed the best about him, even when he gave her evidence that he wasn’t always perfect. He had felt at ease with her, which was—in his experience with women—a completely new sensation.

He’d given her a nod. “Thanks. I’ll give it another try later,” he said.

He had taken a step toward her, but pulled her car door open and got inside.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “Thank you for dinner.” She’d turned the key in the ignition, backed out of the space and drove away. He’d gotten back in the Escalade.

H
E HAD DRIVEN
around for a while before he went back home. He thought about calling one of the guys to meet him somewhere for a beer, but he wouldn’t be great company. He was still mystified by what he was going to say to Lauren. Finally, he drove to his house, put the car in the garage, and came up here to have the talk he’d been dreading.

His thoughts were interrupted by his sister’s sleepy voice.

“Seth? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk with you about what happened at dinner.”

Lauren reached out to turn on the bedside lamp. “So you thought you’d sit there and wait for me to wake up?”

“Pretty much.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Listen. I owe you an apology. I should have picked a better time to talk with you about a little memorial for Liam. I didn’t mean to make you cry, and I’m sorry.”

She was rubbing her eyes like the little girl she used to be. He almost smiled at the raccoon-like smeared mascara around her eyes.

“I’m sorry I freaked out in front of Jillian.” Lauren pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. “I wrecked the dinner, and she probably thinks I’m a baby.”

“No. She doesn’t. She likes you. She talked to me a little about what happened.”

“What did she say?”

“She said that it upset you, and maybe the conversation should happen when she’s not around.” He thought for a moment. “Hey. I know I give you a lot of crap, but I’m wondering about something. What do you think of Jillian?”

His sister propped herself up on one elbow and gazed into his eyes. “Why are you asking me?”

“I just wondered—”

“BS,” his sister informed him. “Do you want the truth?”

“What do you mean? Of course I do.”

“Well, I’d like to stay here,” she joked, “but believe it or not, I want you to be happy.” She gave him the little-girl grin he still saw once in a while. “If you haven’t already figured out that she’s the greatest, you’re an idiot. You don’t talk to anyone else about Liam. She makes you laugh. She’s pretty, and she’s really nice too. I like her a lot. Mom and Dad will love her.” She gave him a little nod.

He realized with a shock that maybe she was right. He wasn’t going to admit it, though.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Pee-Wee. We’re just friends.”

“Sure, you are,” his sister said. She grinned at his discomfort. “Uh-huh. That’s why you’re in here asking me what I think of her.”

“Plus, she’s not like anyone else I’ve ever dated.” His argument sounded weak to his own ears.

“That’s why I like her,” his sister informed him. “You should marry someone like her. She’d make you happy.” Seth stared at her in shock. “Do you think I want to wait forever to be an aunt?”

He grabbed both arms of the chair and hoisted himself out of it. “Got it. It’s time for me to say good night.”

“You don’t want me to tell you the truth about anything else?”

He leaned over Lauren and kissed the top of her head. “See you tomorrow, Pee-Wee. Good night.” He shut off her bedside lamp and turned to go.

His sister’s voice halted him in his tracks. “Let’s get a bench for Liam. I’ll help you pick it out, okay?”

Chapter Thirteen

O
NE WEEK AFTER
Jillian came to his house for dinner, Seth walked into Strikes Bowl on a Wednesday evening and glanced around. Most of his teammates were here already, with assorted wives, girlfriends, and a few significant others. It was the yearly fund-raiser for Zach Anderson’s foundation, which sponsored college scholarships for underprivileged kids.

Seth avoided most of these things. He usually ended up getting stuck in a corner somewhere with an overzealous male fan, who wanted to recount every minute of last season, or an overzealous female fan, who wanted him to sign body parts that would get him a fine from the commissioner’s office. Zach asked him if he’d attend a few days ago. He really didn’t have a good excuse, so he was here. Last year, he had Kim to run interference for him. This year, he didn’t have a date.

Seeing this, one of the Shark Babes attached herself to his arm. God, he hated strong perfume on any woman.

“Hey, Seth. Can I count on you for the Special Olympics fund-raiser next month? Those kids would all love to meet you.” If the look in her eyes was any indication, she’d like to meet him too, preferably later tonight in her bed.

Seth tried to pull away, but she wasn’t budging. She was now rubbing one breast against his forearm. She had to know that any man under ninety was going to react, and sure enough, he did.

“When and where is it?”

“It’s at Sharks Stadium, silly. Tom’s our featured speaker. We’re trying to get as many of the guys there as possible to sign autographs. Plus, people will give more money if they can meet the players.”

“Let me talk to my agent. He arranges all that stuff.”

“Sure.” She didn’t move. “So, you probably know about the after-party.”

Oh, he knew about the after-party. He couldn’t figure out how she knew. The guys guarded that information pretty carefully. Plus, cheerleaders weren’t allowed to date players, but it seemed like they always did. Well, other players. He wasn’t going to find a reason to piss off the coach.

“Yeah. Thanks for the info.” He finally managed to extract his arm. “You’re Jennifer, right?”

She laughed like this was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“No. I’m Ashlee. You’re Seth.”

“Yes. I am.”

He moved away from her. He wouldn’t be attending the after-party unless he wanted to spend an entire evening avoiding yet another situation he shouldn’t end up in.

The bowling alley was crowded. Even with thirty lanes available, fifty or so current and former Sharks, their guests, and the coaching staff, not to mention cheerleaders, front-office folks, and fans who’d paid to get in, blocked every possible exit. He needed a beer. He headed toward the bar, only to notice a familiar blonde woman a distance away, chatting and laughing with a couple of former Sharks.

Jillian was here, which was the best news he’d had all day. This would fix everything. He’d have someone to talk with; he could introduce her around. She’d want to go to the after-party just to see what was going on. She hadn’t told him she was coming tonight. Then again, she didn’t spend a lot of time socializing, as far as he could tell. He was still trying to get through the crowd to her.

Damian Drake, the shutdown cornerback who had retired from the Sharks one season after his buddy Brandon McKenna hung up his own cleats, handed Jillian the Full Sail Ale IPA he’d just bought her.

“Girl, stay away from that nasty lite beer,” Damian insisted. “There’s better beer. Tell her, McKenna.”

“You’re doing a fine job, Drake,” Brandon said. He nodded at the IPA Jillian held. “I see the ladies got the drinks I sent over.”

Brandon’s wife, Emily, sat at a table a short distance away with Damian’s date and Matt Stephens’s newly pregnant wife, Amy. He’d ordered a round of club soda with a lime twist for the three women, and the bartender had managed to scare up a plateful of fresh saltine crackers for Amy, who was battling twenty-four-hour-a-day morning sickness.

“Jillian, stick with us. We’ll have you drinking the good stuff in no time flat,” Brandon told her.

Jillian grinned at both of them. Brandon was frequently in and out of team headquarters due to his job with Pro Sports Network. He’d always been friendly with her, and she enjoyed talking with him as well. Obviously, he was handsome and charming, but even more, he made an effort to get to know her.

“So, your wife’s sitting in the pregnant section. Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Damian slapped Brandon on the back.

“There’s not, but I wouldn’t object if there was.” Brandon winked in his wife’s general direction. “I keep telling Emily that I want a little girl with red hair just like hers. She’s afraid the boys will use her for tackling practice, but they’re not touching my little princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jillian had to smile at the mental picture of a tiny redheaded girl, curled up in her big blond daddy’s arms.

Damian rolled his eyes.

“Listen, man. She might show the two of them how things are. She’d have your genetic material, wouldn’t she?” Damian said.

“That’s right. I’ll have to remember that.” Brandon turned to face Jillian. “So, where’s your date? I’d like to meet your young man.”

Amy Stephens approached the group. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. Amy gave her brother-in-law a gentle punch in the arm. “Jillian, do not let him near anyone you’re dating. He’ll check his credit score and threaten bodily harm if the guy does not treat you like a lady at all times.”

“Hey. It worked with you, didn’t it?” Brandon reminded Amy.

“Yeah, it did after you scared the pee out of everyone else but Matt.”

Brandon laughed and leaned down to kiss Amy’s cheek.

“How are you feelin’, squirt?”

“Awful.” Amy smiled, though. “All I want is another healthy baby.”

S
ETH FINALLY MANAGED
to reach the small knot of chatting, laughing people. Jillian evidently felt comfortable enough with the group she was talking with to tease them a bit.

“So, Brandon, when are you and your wife going to ask me to babysit?” she said.

Brandon saw Seth approach over Jillian’s head, nodded to him, and said, “You know, we’d like that. Our usual babysitters are all out of town or out of commission over the next week or so, and I’d like to take my wife out to dinner. Let’s put something together.”

Jillian beamed. “That would be great. I love kids, and I’d love to spend time with your little boys.”

“Hey, Jill. It’s nice to see you here.” Seth reached out to cup Jillian’s elbow in one hand.

“Seth! I didn’t know you’d be here!” He realized with a shock that she was genuinely happy to see him. Amy had vanished into the crowd while they were talking, most likely on her way to the ladies’ room.

Damian gave Seth an elaborate handshake.

“I’m a fan. Minnesota’s QB won’t forget your name for a while, will he?” Damian said.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact I carved it into his ass as he crawled off the turf,” Seth assured him.

Brandon caught Seth’s eye and raised one eyebrow.

“Sorry, Jill,” Seth said.

“For what?”

“Ladies are present,” Brandon explained. “Listen, Jillian. John won’t mind if I stop by next week and firm up that babysitting thing, will he?”

“No. I don’t think so,” she said. Brandon reached out to give her a side hug.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to spend some time with Mrs. McKenna. You’re bowling with us, aren’t you, Jillian?”

“Sure. Of course.” She beamed up at him.

Seth wondered what he could do to get Jillian to smile at him that way. Did she have a crush on McKenna? Shit. Then again, half the wives and girlfriends of guys on the team had a crush on McKenna. What was it about him, anyway? Seth was just as handsome. He had a little money too. All women liked that stuff.

“I’ll meet you all over there,” Jillian said. “Will it be all right if Seth joins us?”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced over at Seth. They were friendly when talking as part of Brandon’s job or in the weight room, but Seth got the general impression that Brandon wasn’t crazy about his spending any time at all with Jillian, for some unknown reason. “Oh yeah. We’ll fit him in.” He shook Seth’s hand once more and walked away.

Damian was already sitting in the lane’s seating area with his date. Seth listened to the noises of those practicing before the bowling tournament started, people chatting, and a little music.

“I wasn’t sure if you were bowling with someone else, and I didn’t want you to feel left out,” she said to Seth. She looked a little worried.

A pity date. This was getting better by the minute. He’d fended off six women on his way across the bowling alley, but the one he’d headed for believed he needed social help.

“Jill, it’s fine. I’ll get some shoes. Would you like something else to drink?”

“Yes, please.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the beer that was still three-fourths full. “This isn’t my favorite,” she confided.

“Let me help,” Seth said. He took the beer out of her hand and polished it off with a few swallows. “What can I get you instead?”

“I’d like a . . . ” She thought for a moment. “I’d like one of those hard-lemonade things.”

“Coming right up. Why don’t you find the lane we’re bowling in, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

He sauntered off. There wasn’t a line for the shoes, which were the most butt-ugly things he’d ever seen. He’d been in several of these bowling events now. Maybe he’d remember to buy some shoes of his own at some point. Damian was at the bar, getting more club soda.

“Hey. Where’s Jillian?” Damian said.

“She went to warm up.”

Seth placed his order and turned to watch the activity in the lanes as he waited.

Damian took a swig of the beer that still sat in front of him. “My date wants to fix her up with some guy at her office.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. She met Jillian at the fund-raising event last month, and she’s been talking about it for days. She thinks they’d like each other. The guy seems okay, and we really like Jillian.”

“Does the guy know she’s dating someone else?” Seth knew Jillian’s alleged “dating” was fiction, but it might be fun to tease her a little with it.

Damian’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell? She never told us. Where is he tonight?”

“Hell if I know.”

Seth took a swallow of the beer the bartender had just delivered. He picked up Jillian’s drink as well and made his way across the bowling alley.

T
HE TOURNAMENT STARTED
. The athletes turned out to be fairly good bowlers. The females in their party gave it their best efforts, but it was quickly apparent there hadn’t been a lot of practicing. Amy wasn’t bowling. Her sister, Emily, was helping Brandon keep score. Then again, Brandon must have had amazing powers of concentration. His wife was sitting in his lap, whispering in his ear, and generally draping herself all over him.

“Emily just got back from performances in Italy this afternoon. She was gone for a month,” Amy told Jillian.

“And they’re here?”

Amy took a tiny nibble on another saltine.

“The boys are at Grandma and Grandpa Hamilton’s, and they’re staying in a hotel half a block away. They’ll probably stay another hour or so, and then they won’t surface for a couple of days.”

Jillian let out a laugh. Maybe someday she’d know what it was like to be in love, but she wondered if she’d ever find what Brandon and Emily obviously had.

Matt Stephens sat down next to his wife and pulled her close.

“Fifi. Sweetheart. Let me take you home. You’re not feeling that well, are you?” He laid one big hand on Amy’s belly.

“I want to visit with everyone. Maybe in a little while,” she said.

He whispered something in Amy’s ear; Amy blushed and batted playfully at his hand. “I am already pregnant, thanks to you, mister.”

Matt Stephens was a former Shark who’d left Pro Sports Network to open a microcredit firm that lent to women-owned small businesses. The business was thriving. When he wasn’t involved with that, he showed up at events like tonight’s to sign autographs and bring additional attention to the charity in question.

“Hey!” Brandon McKenna was supposed to be taking his turn bowling, but he turned to face Matt. “That’s my sister you’re feeling up, Stephens.”

“She’s married. Mind your own business,” Matt said, but he got up from his seat to hug his brother-in-law.

Seth dropped onto the bench next to Jillian.

“What’s going on?” he asked her, nodding at Matt and Brandon.

“A family thing.” Jillian felt the familiar stab of pain in her chest. “You’re bowling, right?”

“Oh yeah. I might break a hundred,” he joked. “Are you bowling?”

“As little as possible. I suck at it.” She took a sip of the drink Seth handed to her.

“You’re probably better at it than you think,” Seth observed. Jillian was pleased by his confidence in her, but she knew that would change when he actually saw her in action.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Amy called out to him.

Seth gave Amy a nod and a smile. Jillian noticed Brandon’s eyes on Seth as he walked back to the scoring table. He didn’t look happy. She wondered why.

Seth got up to take his turn for practice and called over his shoulder, “Watch this, Jill.”

He lined up on the floor in front of the lane and swung the ball with grace; it rolled smoothly along. Strike. Jillian applauded, and Seth made an exaggerated bow.

“Let’s see that again!” Damian shouted.

“Of course.” Seth lined up once more and swung the ball as gracefully as he had the first time, but for some reason, the ball had a mind of its own. One lone pin stood.

“Shi—crap.”

“You got most of them,” Jillian reassured him.

“Most of them isn’t good enough, Jill.” He dropped onto the bench again. “Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.”

“I’m going to go get another beer.”

He loped off. Brandon glanced around to see where Seth went, folded his lips, and returned his attention to his wife. Damian plunked himself down in the seat Seth had just vacated.