Game for Anything (17 page)

As he helped the boys clean up the balls and nets on the fields, he looked over at Julie. She had her head bent over her BlackBerry, good little worker that she was. He was hit with the memory of taking her naked up on that balcony in Napa and he had to look away, trying to get his mind off of her curves, the way the pulse in her neck jumped when she threw her head back and came. He was about to turn around and head for the clubhouse when he heard a man's rough voice boom across the field.

"Jackie boy, I hope you kicked some ass today."

Jack's face flamed and he ducked his head and fumbled a ball on purpose so that he could run after it. Away from the man that Ty assumed was his father.

The ruddy-faced man stumbled in Ty's direction. He slapped Ty on the back and stale whisky fumes poured out of his mouth as he said, "That's some superstar I've got out there, isn't it, Ace?" Ty worked to repress his revulsion. It wasn't Jack's fault that his father was a worthless drunk.

"Sure is. He's a great kid."

The man scowled. "All I care about is that he's great at football. We didn't come here this week for him to make friends. Win at all costs—that's what I've been teaching him. I don't care who he has to crush along the way. He hasn't been a sniveling baby out here today, has he?" Ty had gone cow tipping a few times with his buddies as a kid in Marin, and he was sorely tempted to poke this guy's overinflated chest and watch him fall to the ground, his thick legs flailing heedlessly in the air.

But he wasn't here to tell guys like this where to stick it. All he could do was help their kids on the field, teach them the right way to act, and hope they remembered what he'd told them when push came to shove.

Ty said, "He's doing great," and headed across the field toward Jack. He squatted down and covered Jack with his back, making sure his father couldn't see either of their faces.

"I met your dad."

The kid's eyes shuttered, so different from how open and receptive he'd been all day. "It's no big deal. I can handle him."

Ty nodded. "Sure you can." He paused. "He reminds me a lot of my dad. Says the same kind of stuff."

Jack looked up in surprise. "You're kidding, right?"

"My dad put a lot of pressure on me too. Winning was the only thing he cared about." Jack screwed up his face. "But isn't winning what matters most?" Ty reached into his pocket, pulled out paper and a pen, and wrote his cell number on it. "Sometimes it does. Other times you just go out there and play the best game you can." He handed the scrap of paper to Jack. "You need anything, you give me a call."

Jack looked down at Ty's cell number, his mouth open. "Wow."

"Even if you just need to talk, call me. If I can't pick up right away, I promise to call you back." They both heard Jack's father coming and the boy shoved the paper into his pocket before his dad could see. Ty knew damn well how his own father would have reacted to having the personal telephone number of a pro player way back when. He would have gone straight to the bar to buy everyone a round to celebrate. Before the night was through, that number would have been passed into every stranger's hand.

Ty watched Jack and his father walk away, wondering if he'd just made a mistake, when Julie appeared at his side.

"You look serious," she said, following his gaze to the parking lot. He shook off his dark mood. One thing he had no intention of ever discussing with Julie was his father. She knew he'd been a drunk—shit, everyone in town knew, and once he'd gone pro the press had told the world—but it still wasn't something he talked about much. Over the years, the more games he'd won, the more people left his past alone. And that was exactly how he liked it.

"You're looking at a future superstar," he said, changing the subject.

"I know next to nothing about football, and even I can see Jack is talented." She frowned. "But his father seemed a little intense, didn't he?"

More like drunk off his ass,
Ty thought.

Julie took a deep breath, seemed like she wanted to say something to him. He was learning her body signals. She was holding something back.

"Spit it out."

She laughed. "I never knew how transparent I was."

"Only to me," he said and their eyes locked for a long moment. "You sure I can't kiss you right now?" Her mouth opened slightly and he almost did it anyway. Finally, she shook her head. "You can't." He scowled. "Explain to me again why you're so intent on keeping our relationship a secret?"

"You can't seriously need me to explain the boundaries of a client relationship, can you?"

"Do you always treat your clients this well?"

Her hands balled at her sides and she lowered her voice. "Why are you acting like this?" He realized he was being an ass because—God, it felt stupid to even think the words—his feelings were hurt. She didn't want anyone to know she was sleeping with a dumb jock. So what? She wasn't any good for his image, either. Sure, she was beautiful. But people expected him to date fun girls. Not women who owned their own businesses and knew which fork to use.

"It's been a long day out here with these kids," he lied. "Forgive me?" She stared at him and he waited impatiently for her to make up her mind. He'd go nuts if she decided he'd pushed her too far.

Finally, she nodded. "You're forgiven," she said, "but I have to admit I have ulterior motives." He raised an eyebrow, immediately hoping her motives involved being naked and sweaty.

"Which are?"

"My parents called. They're having a big dinner party tomorrow night." She paused, looked guilty.

"You're the guest of honor."

"Sounds like more of a command than an invitation."

She bit her lip. "I'm so sorry. My mother made it perfectly clear that she'll never forgive me if you don't show up and they end up with egg on their face. I feel really horrible about this, Ty." Big blue eyes turned to him. "You don't have to go. It's not your job to make my parents happy. I'll find some way to deal with them."

He touched her face, lightly running the side of his palm down her smooth cheek. He knew more than his share about how hard it was to deal with parents and their expectations. The least he could do was make this easy on her. She'd been great all week. It was time to take one for the team.

"I'm happy to go, Julie."

She turned her face into his palm. "Thank you."

Her lips brushed against his hand and blood rushed to his head. To both of them. Tony called out from the deck off the clubhouse, "BBQ's on at my house." Ty reluctantly dropped his hand. There were about a hundred things he'd rather do right now than eat hot dogs at his old friend's house. He'd be able to hang out with his friends forever. But where Julie was concerned, the clock was rapidly ticking down.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Julie could hardly believe what a fantastic time she was having. Once, she would have automatically assumed that Ty's friends would be conceited jerks. They were all jocks or ex-jocks, after all. Instead she found them to be some of the nicest men she'd ever met. Warm, easygoing, confident. But definitely not arrogant. There wasn't a chip in sight, even though they were very good at what they did and they'd earned a great deal of money.

She chatted with the football wives as the guys loudly cleaned up. It suddenly occurred to her that most of the guys she'd dated for the past decade—men in suits, entrepreneurs, fast-tracked vice presidents —were far more arrogant than any of these men who earned their living with their bodies. After more football talk than she'd ever thought to hear in her life, she was just starting to grasp how much strategy and brainpower there was to the game.

Her parents had never encouraged her to play sports, and while she certainly put in her time on the elliptical trainer at the gym, working out was just a way to keep her figure intact. Ty pushed his body with intense concentration and focus. Whether he was lifting weights, riding a stationary bike, or swimming laps, he didn't waste one second complaining or taking it easy. Being in peak physical condition was his job, and he took his responsibilities seriously. Lucky her.

Tony's wife went to get her another nonalcoholic beer and Julie stared into the fire pit, amazed at how quickly her life had done a complete about-face. She was sitting outside by a fire wearing an oversized Outlaws sweatshirt to ward off the slight chill, getting hot and tingly thinking about a football star's big muscles.

"Let me guess what you're thinking about," Ty whispered into her ear and her nipples immediately went hard.

"You like kids, don't you?"

He sat down next to her and took a swig from his Coke. "Not exactly what I was hoping you'd say." She grinned, lowered her voice. "Women think men who are great with kids are sexy." He grinned back. "Now that's more like it."

Tony's grandkids were chasing each other around the lawn with water guns, screaming and laughing. "Ty, come save me," the littlest girl pleaded and he put down his soda and jogged over. Even five-year-olds fell for Ty. He was utterly irresistible to every member of the female sex. And while he was all hers, she was going to enjoy every last bit of pleasure he offered.

"Want to see one of the most beautiful things in the world?" Ty asked as they left Tony's front porch.

"I'd love to," she said.

Ty reached for her hand and led her down Tony's long, redwood-lined driveway. On the way to the barbecue, she realized that Tony had built his house on property adjoining the camp.

"Lucky bastard, getting to live down the road from a football field." Julie pressed her lips together. She wasn't going to offer an unsolicited opinion. Everything was going so well between them, and it wasn't her place to tell him how to live his life. He had a fantastic mansion in one of San Francisco's most exclusive neighborhoods. He was already happy. Without her.

Ty turned his head and looked at her, his features lit by the moonlight.

"You want to say something, you should say it."

"Your house is beautiful," she began and he held up a hand.

"Stop right there. You don't need to massage my ego. Hell, you're one of the few people who hasn't told me exactly what 1 want to hear in years. If you've got an opinion, I'd like to hear it." Julie licked her lips, gripping his hand tighter. She took a deep breath. She never spoke out of turn, never said anything a client didn't want to hear, not unless she reworked it until it was totally palatable.

"Have you ever thought about moving? I mean, if you want to be somewhere more like this?"

He was quiet for a long moment, and her heart beat double-time. Less than a week ago she'd gone out of her way to publicly insult him. But now, she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"When I was a kid, I used to dream about the house I was going to have. I'd ride over the Golden Gate Bridge and tool around Seacliff on my shitty bike, ranking the houses in order of which ones I'd buy." She smiled. "I'm really impressed. You got what you wanted."

"The first year I lived there was all one big party. It's a great house."

"Amazing," she echoed.

"But I'm thinking it might be time for some changes."

She turned to look at him, surprised that he agreed with her. And what did he mean by
changes
with an s? Was she one of those changes?

They were standing on the edge of a football field she hadn't yet seen with stadium lights and bleachers. Ty walked over to a metal lockbox and flipped several switches. The grass turned bright green beneath the powerful lights.

Julie felt like they were standing in a private wonderland.

"See what I mean?" Ty said and she shot a glance at him.

He was facing the empty field with a look on his face that spoke volumes. Usually, he kept his true emotions well hidden behind teasing, and joking. Only during their lovemaking had she caught glimpses of another Ty. He always had such an easiness about him, but now in addition to his usual relaxed, confident stance, she saw joy too.

"I never thought I'd say this about a football field," she said, "but it is pretty amazing."

"Come out here," he said, pulling her forward.

"I've only seen one football game before in my whole life," she admitted. "On TV. This January. When you won the Super Bowl."

Surprise registered on his features, along with a healthy dose of delight. Julie was pleased that she could make him happy by divulging that she'd seen his amazing moves.

"Seriously? That's the only one?"

She laughed at his incredulous expression, "Believe it or not, some people just don't watch football." He raised an eyebrow. "You never went in college with friends?" She'd always made an excuse not to go, not wanting to be reminded of Ty in any way. "Not even the tailgates."

He shook his head. "I'm surprised you even know the word for pregame parties in parking lots." Frustration welled up inside her. Didn't he know why she'd brought this whole subject up? Didn't he know how hard it was for her to risk thinking beyond the end of her assignment?

"What I'm trying to say is that I'd like to see a game," she spat out. "In a stadium. I'd like to see your talent in action."

"It's just what I do," he said, downplaying his natural ability yet again. He was given countless opportunities to toot his own horn as fans fawned all over him, yet he remained incredibly modest. They moved down the field toward the stands and climbed halfway up before sitting down. Julie's skirt fluttered around her knees in the light evening breeze.

"Did you ever doubt yourself?" she asked, figuring they both knew she was talking about the final seconds of the Super Bowl.

His long, dark eyelashes rose and she lost her breath looking into his beautiful dark eyes.

"You want something bad enough, I figure you should go get it." When he put it like that, everything sounded so simple. No doubts. No fears. Just pinpointing exactly what you wanted and going after it, knowing it could —and would—be yours. All day, desire had been building within her, along with a longing to seize her remaining time with Ty, to make all of her fantasies come true before they said good-bye.