I'll Catch You (7 page)

Mrs. Bea guided Cedric past the kitchen and down the hallway, where the extra-wide, wheelchair-friendly bedroom doors were still closed. They made a quick left into the sunroom, and Cedric spotted his brother looking out into the vast backyard.

“Derek,” Mrs. Bea called. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Derek turned his head and his eyes opened wide as saucers.

“Cedric!”

“What’s up, buddy?” Cedric greeted, stooping so he could capture his twin in a bear hug. Cedric swallowed past the lump that always formed in his throat whenever he encountered his brother’s unrestrained love.

Derek worshipped him, which only made Cedric’s guilt that much harder to bear. For years doctors had tried to convince Cedric that he wasn’t the cause of his brother’s condition, but facts were facts. Twenty-seven years ago, when they’d shared a womb, Cedric had stolen nearly all of the nutrients, leaving none for his brother’s brain and body to properly develop. It could have just as easily been
him
in this wheelchair, living
his
life vicariously through his brother, the way Derek lived vicariously through Cedric.

Before Cedric could get a single word in, Derek started a slurred but enthusiastic recounting of every single play of yesterday’s game. As he listened to his brother’s excited monologue, Cedric could only marvel at the strides that had been made in Derek’s condition.

When he’d first found Marshall’s Place, Derek was listless, bound by the confines of his wheelchair and spending most hours of the day parked in front of the television at the group home he’d lived in back in Philadelphia. Cedric had researched better care facilities for years, and he knew it was a gift straight from God when he’d been drafted by the Sabers and could afford to send Derek to Marshall’s Place.

Being able to get Derek into this facility was an opportunity for atonement, at least what little he could allow himself.

As he sat patiently listening to his brother, Cedric knew there was no other option for him. He wasn’t done making up for the damage he’d caused Derek.

He had to remain a New York Saber. It was as simple as that.

Chapter 5

A
s she made her way through the wide concrete corridor toward the Sabers locker room, Payton mulled over the difference a couple of weeks—not to mention a legitimate reason for being there—could make. The last time she’d made this journey, her knees had felt like water and she’d been sure she would have to financially support Susan Renee after her dear friend was fired for loaning Payton her press pass.

Today, no one questioned her presence as she entered the Sabers’s sacred domain. Agents were allowed to move freely in and out of the locker room. Payton nodded at David Sage, one of the few fellow agents she’d met and actually liked. He held a cell phone to his ear with his right hand, had another in his left and a third clipped to his belt. David gave her a slight wave as he passed her on his way out of the locker room.

“One day,” Payton said under her breath. She’d warrant multiple phones one of these days. For now, she was fine with her solitary BlackBerry.

She spotted Cedric as soon as he exited the shower room, his white T-shirt plastered to his muscular chest.

Don’t stare. Do
not
stare.

“How was practice?” she greeted, triple-dog-daring her eyes to drift below his neck.

He shrugged a shoulder, which Payton knew would cause all those muscles to ripple even more. She
so
wanted to look. Pretending the sight of his outrageously sculpted body didn’t affect her was getting harder by the minute.

“It was good,” Cedric answered, motioning for her to follow him out of the locker room. “We had to stop early so they could repair a part of the field that got messed up during the game this weekend. I hope the city has that water main fixed by tomorrow. We need to be at our regular practice facility.”

The Sabers, like every other NFL team, had a separate practice facility with a full-length football field, state-of-the-art weight rooms and everything else needed to help keep their players in tip-top shape. Payton had yet to set foot in the Sabers facility. A major break in the city’s main water line had relegated them to practicing at the stadium for the past couple of weeks, which was inconvenient, since they shared the stadium with New York’s other NFL team.

“So what’s up with my endorsements? Am I rolling like Tiger Woods or what?” Cedric asked.

“Ha ha,” Payton drawled.

“You’re the one who said you were going to land an endorsement deal by the end of today.”

The grin on his face was nearly as irresistible as that muscular chest Payton was still having a hard time ignoring. She should have known he would throw the overconfident claim she’d made during their postgame brainstorming session in her face. She’d crisscrossed the city, going from storefront to storefront like a door-to-door salesman, determined to make good on her promise.

And she had.

“Have you ever eaten at Gianni’s Pizza?” she asked.

“Sure.” He nodded at a maintenance guy driving a golf cart piled high with shoulder pads. “Matter of fact, we had a couple of pizzas delivered last Sunday night while we played dominoes. There’s one just a few blocks from Torrian’s place.”

So
those
were the plans he’d had last Sunday night. Payton didn’t want to explore why knowing he was at Torrian’s instead of on a date was such a relief, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Just the thought of him cavorting with one of the many women he’d been linked to over the years made her chest tighten with unease.

She needed to squelch this unhealthy fixation on his love life. As long as it did not compromise his image, Cedric was free to date any woman he wanted. Yet even as she said the words to herself, a disturbing weight settled in Payton’s stomach.

“What about Gianni’s?” he asked.

“You’re their new spokesman. You’ll be signing autographs for an hour at their original location in Brooklyn on Wednesday afternoon.”

Cedric stopped and turned to face her. “Gianni’s Pizza?” he said with the enthusiasm of a slug. “Are you serious?”

“I know it’s not Reliant, but—”

“But nothing,” he said. “Look, there’s something you need to keep in mind, Payton. I’m one of the premier running backs in the National Football League. There are first-year rookies who wouldn’t stoop so low as to endorse a neighborhood pizza joint.”

“They are not just a pizza joint! Gianni’s is a legend in this city. Every New Yorker has had a slice of their pizza at least once in their lifetime.”

“How would you know? You told me you’ve been here less than a year.”

“The owner assured me,” Payton stated. “Come on, Cedric. They’re going to take a couple of pictures for their advertisements and you’ll sign a few autographs. This is a good start.”

He still didn’t look convinced, but then a corner of his mouth lifted with a reluctant smile. “To be honest, I’m kind of impressed. No agent is expected to land an endorsement deal this quickly.”

Payton allowed herself to enjoy his praise for a moment before dropping the other shoe. “Okay,” she continued. “So, this isn’t exactly your
normal
endorsement deal.”

He eyed her with a curious stare. “What isn’t exactly
normal
about it?”

“Well, with most endorsement deals you get paid.”

“Oh, come
on,
Payton,” he groused.

She held her hands out, pleading for understanding. “Gianni’s Harlem location sponsors the touch football team at the Linden Avenue rec center. The owner was there when I went to talk to the center’s director about the mini-football camp and when he heard you would be there, he was beyond excited. They can’t afford to hire a big-time celebrity to endorse their restaurants, and he’s your biggest fan.”

“Of course he is,” Cedric drawled.

“Is it really such a hardship? You’ve been such a sport about this so far. I thought partnering with another company who helps out the rec center would add to the good press you’ll get for participating in the mini-camp.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, is the date for the camp set in stone?”

“Yes,” she said. “I talked to the center’s director this morning. Permission slips went out to all the kids today. Is there something wrong with the date?”

He shrugged. “It’s just that a bunch of the players usually spend the bye weekend in Atlantic City.”

Payton threw her hands up in the air. “Atlantic City? Seriously? After everything we discussed about keeping you out of trouble, you make plans to spend your weekend off in Atlantic City? Do you honestly think you’ll go there and stay out of trouble, Cedric?”

It was when she paused to take a breath that Payton noticed the smile edging his lips. “You’re lying,” she accused, ready to slap the smile from his all-too-handsome face. She pointed a finger at him. “Another rule, no rattling your agent just to get a rise out of her.”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “You make it so easy. And enjoyable. It doesn’t take much to imagine you battling some lawyer in court.”

“I studied contract law. I was hardly ever in court,” she said. She cracked a mischievous grin. “I have been told I’m pretty scary when it comes to negotiations, though.”

“Perfect trait for an agent,” he said.

His dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and her pulse quickened with a sudden burst of awareness. She wasn’t sure when he’d come to stand so close. Just as she wasn’t certain of when the corridor had become so quiet. The absence of noise only intensified the sound of their breathing.

“So you’ll be at Gianni’s on Wednesday, right?” she asked, taking a step back.

Cedric stared at her for several long moments, the gleam in his eyes telling Payton he found her retreat amusing. “If my agent says I need to be at Gianni’s on Wednesday, that’s where I’ll be.”

Payton was about to respond when movement over his shoulder caught her eye. “What’s going on over there?” She moved toward a tunnel that was an offshoot to the one underneath the stadium.

Cedric turned. “Probably the guys still resodding the turf.”

“I want to see it,” Payton said on an awe-filled breath. Not waiting for Cedric, she drifted through the arched hallway that led to the field, stopping just at the edge of the neatly trimmed deep green grass. She debated whether she should slip off her shoes before stepping onto it.

She went for it. Leaving her shoes behind, Payton stepped onto an actual NFL football field for the very first time. She turned in a slow circle and marveled at the sheer size of the place. On any given Sunday, seventy thousand people filled these seats. That was ten times the number of people in her small hometown.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the moment. The freshly cut grass was cool beneath her feet. It tickled her through her sheer stockings.

She pulled in another deep breath and allowed the smell to bring her back to the sideline at Manchac High School. If she concentrated, she could hear her father’s deep voice booming from the sidelines. Coach Moe, as he was known throughout Manchac, could instill fear in his players with just a look. When he barked an order in that commanding voice, everyone jumped to attention.

Payton’s fists clenched at her sides as she tried desperately to hold on to the memory. She was so afraid that one day she would wake up and not be able to recall her daddy’s voice.

She wouldn’t allow that to happen. She couldn’t. Her memories were all she had left. And her love of football. It was a special bond they’d shared that Payton would always treasure. Finally,
finally,
her hard work had landed her exactly where she needed to be. Close to the game they both loved.

Coach Moe would be proud.

Cedric hovered at the edge of the field, leaning against the wall of the tunnel he’d run through dozens of times over the past four years. As he watched Payton stand there in silent worship, he tried to recall a single time he’d felt the sheer joy he saw on her face. She was relishing this. He could feel it radiating from her like warmth from the sun.

Cedric knew he was lucky. Millions of young boys dreamed of playing in the NFL and only a fraction ever got the chance to experience that reality. He’d never taken this gift for granted, but not once had he approached the football field with such reverence. At that moment, he knew if Payton Mosely had been born male, she would have been playing in the NFL. That was the kind of love for the game he saw on her face.

What was it about this woman and football? Where had this passion—this obsession—come from? Cedric was torn between flooding her with the dozen questions swirling in his mind or just watching her as she enjoyed something as simple as standing on a football field.

She turned in a slow circle, her face pointed up as she took in the tens of thousands of empty seats. She stopped when she saw him and smiled.

“This is so cool,” she mouthed.

Cedric pushed away from the wall and walked onto the field. He looked around the stadium, trying to see it for the first time through the eyes of someone who would never get to play the game, but who, without a doubt, loved it as much as he did.

“It is awesome, isn’t it?” he agreed.

“What’s it like to play here?” Her eyes were luminous with the same excitement that came through her voice. “I can only imagine how loud the crowd is to you guys on the field. To have all those fans cheering and screaming. It must be amazing!”

Cedric stuck his hands in his pockets to stop himself from touching her. He was once again struck by how beautiful she was. Even more startling was the contradiction she presented. Gorgeous, petite, feminine women usually didn’t live and breathe football. Cedric honestly could not think of anything sexier.

“The best ever was my first playoff game as a Saber,” he started, answering her question. “This place was electric. I’d played in bowl games in college, but I doubt if anything will ever compare to running through the tunnel before that first playoff game. I just remember the fog from the smoke machines as we ran onto the field, and then the teal and silver confetti that was everywhere after we won. I found confetti in places confetti should never be found,” he joked.