Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) (16 page)

“I’m just kidding, you know,” Rachel told them gently.

Sophie hesitated, then said in a soft voice, “You can’t joke about the Surgeon. Especially not to the guys. You know that, right? I mean . . .” She lowered her tone even further. “Don’t say it to Deck. Seriously.”

“Or to Jason,” Beth added. “It would kill him.”

Rachel was honestly stymied. “Why would he care? The Lancers won the game, right?”

“The Lancers won because they had the Triple Threat,” Sophie explained as color finally returned to her cheeks. “Three guys—Johnny, Decker and Bam. But the Surgeon? He’s a freak. A one-man show.
Everyone
hates him, trust me.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know. I won’t joke about him anymore,” Rachel promised. “I just thought he was kind of handsome.”

“Are you kidding? He’s
gorgeous.
But don’t tell Jake I said so, or the wedding will be off.”

“Wow, you people take your football so seriously.” Rachel shook her head. “I’m
soooo
glad I’m not one of you.”

“Wyatt Bourne,” Beth mumbled, still incoherent.

“I think she’s finally speechless,” Rachel told Sophie. “Maybe this is a good time to talk about the wedding.”

They chatted for more than an hour, enjoying spicy food and warm breezes, and Rachel felt sanity rush back into her body. So much of the last ten days had been about sex. But Sophie and Jake? That was true love for sure.

“I hate to break up the party,” she said finally, reaching for her purse, “but I need to get going. I’m just so glad the three of us had this chance to talk.”

“Don’t make any plans for Saturday night,” Beth told her sternly. “I’m taking you out again. To a club this time. If you want a tall, dark, deadly guy, that’s where we’ll find him.”

Rachel shot Sophie a look of pretend panic. “Help.”

“I’m with her,” the pretty blonde said with a laugh. “We need to find you a dark-haired stud before Wyatt Bourne comes to town and seduces you.”

“You should come with us, Sof,” Beth insisted. “She’s shy, so she’ll need more than one wing slut.”

“Wing slut?” Sophie laughed. “As tempting as that sounds, my conference ends Friday morning and I’m outta here. So you two are on your own.”

“I can find my own guy,” Rachel murmured.

But Beth just shrugged. “Jason never takes me anywhere, so it’s good for me too. I’ve still got it, you know.
I’ll
hook them, you’ll reel them in. No arguments. I might even buy a new dress,” she added, sounding surprisingly energized by the prospect of prowling for men. “I’m sick of these matronly outfits anyway.”

Rachel wanted to protest again but imagined it wouldn’t do any good, so she decided to fake acquiescence, then cancel by text later. Meanwhile, she gave Beth a hug and warned her not to badger Sophie, then embraced the bride-to-be.

“Come to my wedding,” Sophie whispered fondly. “I vote for Decker, but you can bring anyone you want. Except, of course, the Surgeon.”

• • •

Rachel arrived at school early on Thursday morning, hoping to set up a chemistry experiment while also stealing a minute to contact Beth’s husband, Jason. The idea had come to her in the middle of the night, and while she had had a moment of embarrassment, wondering if the very married guy really did find her attractive, all she needed to do was picture him staring at his true love—a football game—to know there wasn’t a grain of truth to it.

And meanwhile, it was time for the lazy hunk to step up and appreciate what he had.

He answered cheerfully. “This is Jayce.”

“Hi, Jason. It’s Rachel Gillette.”

“Seriously? Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I hope this isn’t a bad time. I had dinner with Beth last night—”

“Yeah, I heard. She’s gonna be your wing slut, right?” He chuckled. “That should be interesting.”

Rachel laughed too. “I’m afraid she’ll take me to a biker bar. So I had a better idea.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“I think
you
should take her out.” Before he could object, she asked, “When was the last time you guys did something together? Something romantic.”

“You were there. John’s wedding. That was romantic, wasn’t it?”

“No, that was a family gathering. Try again.”

“We went to a bunch of Super Bowl parties last month.”

“Come on, Jayce,” Rachel told him gently. “You know what I mean. Just you and Bethie. Wine, candlelight, dancing. Do any of these things ring a bell?”

When he didn’t answer, she assured him, “You’re the best husband in the world, but she needs a little one-on-one.
Out
of the house. Plus, you can surprise her with it. We’ll pretend she’s going out with me, but when I show up at your house, I’ll be in my hazmat suit to watch the kids, and you’ll be all dolled up. You’re so handsome,” she added encouragingly. “When you and your gorgeous wife walk into that club, all eyes will be on you.”

He was quiet again, and she almost took it back. Then he finally spoke, his voice wistful. “She’d love that, right? And yeah, we used to go out more. It’s a good idea, Rachel. But you don’t need to watch the kids. I’ll hire a couple of thugs.”

Rachel giggled. “I’m a teacher, I can survive it. And this is so wonderful of you! You’ll be her hero.” She sighed. “It’s good for your sons to see you do this kind of thing. So they know how to treat a woman when they get married.”

“We don’t think the government will allow them to reproduce. Plus, they’ll all be in prison.”

She laughed. “I’ve gotta run. See you Saturday at seven. Get all hunked up, please?”

“Yeah, and I’ll drug the kids for you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He chuckled. “Bribes work better anyway. So—” He exhaled sharply. “Thanks, Rachel. We’ll see you Saturday.”

She hung up, pleased by the good deed, and refusing to accept that she herself was in denial. She kept saying she would look for a boyfriend, but so far hadn’t really made a move in that direction.

“Rachel?” a soft voice said from the doorway. “Do you have a few minutes before the horde arrives?”

She turned to smile at Mrs. Rayburn. “Of course. I’m just finishing up here. What’s up?”

“Well . . .” The principal walked over and perched on the edge of Rachel’s desk. “I just wanted to thank you in person for arranging this new football program. The children will love it. And it’s so generous of Mr. Bannerman.”

Rachel stared, confused. A new football program? A generous one? What was he doing? Donating equipment to the school? It was so unnecessary, and a little excessive even for him.

Apparently he had a better time than you knew,
she teased herself, but it honestly bothered her to think of gifts in exchange for sex, even at this level.

The principal was waiting, so Rachel said carefully, “He’s a very generous man.”

“And of course, he has an ulterior motive. An excuse to see you seven more times, right?”

“Pardon?”

Mrs. Rayburn laughed. “He told me you met at a wedding, so I’m guessing he’s not the football player from the blind date. How many are you juggling?”

Rachel’s head exploded. “How did you know about the blind date? Oh! Do you keep in touch with Beth Spurling?”

“Of course. When she’s ready to come back to teaching, I want her
here.”

“So do I,” Rachel said, adding to herself,
So I can strangle her
.

“She said she was fixing you up with a kicker. But Mr. Bannerman is a halfback. It’s all so exciting, Rachel.”

Make it stop,
Rachel begged the universe.

To Mrs. Rayburn she continued carefully, “You said seven times.”

“He thought it was six,” she said, nodding. “I guess you forgot about the split class. So he and I worked it out over the phone. He’ll start with the sixth-graders this Friday, then one class each Friday after that. Of course,” she beamed, “he’ll visit the kindergarten
every
Friday. Since that’s the not-so-secret agenda.”

Every Friday?

“I don’t blame you, Rachel. He’s an attractive man. A little rambunctious, but I’m sure he’s lots of fun.”

“I barely know him. We’re just friends, really.”

“What’s wrong with
that?”
The principal sniffed. “Have a little fun! You deserve it.”

Rachel made a fist in her lap, digging her nails into her palm to keep herself together. “Mrs. Rayburn, could I ask you a huge favor?
Please
don’t tell Beth about Mr. Bannerman. She’d take it the wrong way, and—well, it would just be a mess.”

“I won’t say a word. It’s just for fun, like we said.” She pursed her lips. “If you’re looking for something more conventional, we have a mixer at our church once a month. There are several attractive men who would treat you well. And with them, you’d have a future.”

Oh, God, please. Make it stop.

“You’re always so cautious, Rachel. Which makes you perfect for my kindergarten—”

“Oh!” Rachel’s gaze darted to the window. “The children!”

“I asked Betty to collect them from the parents, so I could thank you for arranging the new program.”

“Oh, whew. Thanks.” She touched the older woman’s shoulder. “He’s just flirting with me, like I said. But he gets a kick out of the children too. So it’ll work out.”

“I met my husband at a wedding,” the principal mused.

“It’s nothing like that,” Rachel told her firmly. “Mr. Bannerman’s a nice guy, but he meets lots of women at lots of weddings.”

“Yes, I got that impression.” Mrs. Rayburn’s tone was unexpectedly gentle. “I’m actually glad to hear you say that. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. Just have some fun.”

“That’s the plan,” Rachel agreed. Then she motioned toward the outer door. “Looks like Betty has the children lined up, so I’d better get moving.”

“Science today?” The principal smiled. “There’s always something going on in your classroom, isn’t there?”

“Oh, yes,” Rachel agreed. “I’m full of surprises these days.”

• • •

She had planned a challenging lesson for the children but her head was spinning, so she basically let them fool around all day with ingredients from the aborted science experiments. Baking soda, vinegar, water, raisins, fusilli pasta—with minimal supervision, these made the day blow by.

Even story time was a bit of a wreck, since Rachel was reading a children’s version of
The Odyssey
to the class, and some of those hunky drawings of Greek heroes bore disturbing resemblance to Vince “Bam” Bannerman.

By the time she got to the parking lot after school, she just sat in her car and tried to sort through her feelings. Not that it was that complicated. A million things about this set-up bothered her, but beneath all that was a wave of exhilaration.

Because she couldn’t wait to see him. Or maybe she just couldn’t wait to have sex with him again. Or maybe those were the same things, and she was overthinking this to death when she should be planning for his arrival.

A laugh bubbled up inside her. She had never had a chance to prepare before. He had always sprung out of nowhere, assaulting her with his sexy grin, then
actually
assaulting her. Now she could choose what to wear. How to react, at least on the surface. What she would say.

Every Friday for seven weeks. That was an odd choice, wasn’t it? Why not knock off all the classes in a week or so and get a concentrated dose of sex at night? It sounded pretty good to her, but then again, there was apparently something wrong with her these days because she was ravenous.

Could she blame the hormones?

Probably better just to be honest. Because she knew exactly what it was. After tepid experiences with fumbling men, Bannerman and his huge, ginormous, Wild West–taming endowment had tripped a switch and now she was hooked.

Reclining her seat slightly, she closed her eyes and imagined him inside her, loving the jolt it gave her. She needed a boyfriend soooo bad, but until she found one?

Seven Fridays with Bam Bannerman were going to do just fine.

• • •

Her philosophy came together surprisingly easily. She wouldn’t put a gloss on this. Wouldn’t pretend they were dating
. He
knew why he was visiting, and so did she. She was just glad he wanted more.

So her preparations were simple. First, a trip to the deli to buy him a double-sized slab of meat lasagna. She had purchased the meatless version every month or two as a treat for herself, and had drooled over the less-healthy alternative. Now, she still bought meatless for herself but hoped he’d let her have a taste of his.

Yum, why does everything about him sound so dirty?

Laughing, she bought crusty sourdough rolls and a banana cream pie to round out the meal. And more beer, even though he had only consumed one bottle during the last visit. She would have bought wine as well but felt like she had already exhausted her allotment of alcohol for the month.

Maybe even the year.

Buying new clothes seemed like another logical step, but a robe had sufficed last time, at least once they got started, so she dipped into Victoria’s Secret and selected a lacy pink wrap. He would know it was new. Would know it was just for him. Might even see it as slutty.

God, she hoped so.

Meanwhile, she dressed for work that morning in her usual Friday outfit—the innocent skirt, the modest top—but made some subtle changes. Higher heels. Black lace panties. Combined with new and gorgeous pink nail enamel and a full hour at the waxing salon, she was more than ready for the games to begin.

Still, her heart pounded at the slightest provocation, and because she suspected the children would pick up on it, she brought out the crayons, then played the petting-zoo montage and had them create works of art on butcher paper. The room would look good for Bannerman, and since there was an Open House around the corner, the parents could enjoy it too.

Mrs. Rayburn had announced the football series at a staff meeting, explaining that the halfback would arrive after lunch each Friday and spend twenty minutes with the class of the week. He wanted a low-key program with no fanfare and had asked that it be kept from the media if at all possible. He just wanted to hang with the kids, share his love for his sport, and talk about teamwork.