Playing For Keeps (20 page)

“I’m fine.” He noticed the stretcher. “No way. I’m walking off the damn field.”

“Don’t be an ass,” said Jake.

Ryan lifted his head off the grass; his head swam. His vision blurred again.

“Terel , if you don’t do what you’re told, you’l sit out the next month of Sundays. I swear to Christ.”

His coach was on the field? He never did that. It must be serious.

EMT’s took over, scooping him onto the stretcher and strapping him in tight. Ready for transport, Jake and a couple of teammates lifted him, then carried him over to the motorized cart.

“Didn’t know how desperate you were to get on Sports Center,” joked Jake.

“Fuck off.” Feeling better, Ryan laughed.

The crowd erupted with applause as his battered body was taken off the field. As they drove towards the tunnel he managed a thumbs up. The cheering grew even louder, but faded as they drove away. Instead of wondering if he’d played his last game, he wondered if Samantha was worried.

As the EMT’s loaded him into the ambulance, Ryan thought about the time when he was nine years old and had his tonsils out. No one had come to visit. Not his foster parents, who couldn’t even be bothered to pick him up when he was released, sending a neighbor instead. He’d never felt more alone and afraid than he did during that time. Ryan couldn’t help it, but at the moment he felt like that little nine-year-old boy.

Would Samantha come to visit him? Or would the fears regarding her job hold her back? As the EMT’s closed the doors, he heard her voice.

“Let me through.”

“No press al owed.”

“I’m not the press, I’m his…girlfriend.”

Ryan told the EMT to let her in. The boy inside him whispered,
“See you’re not alone anymore.”

He felt his over-sized hand being held by Samantha’s smal but now strong grip.

“Ryan?”

“You’d say anything to get a story. Say your lesbian, even say you’re my girlfriend,” he teased.

“This isn’t funny. You’re not a story to me.”

“Lean over so I can see your face and say that again.”

She’d been crying. Ryan cursed the straps holding him down. He wanted to stroke her cheek -- to hold her in his arms. “Hey, I’m okay. This crap is al precautionary.”

Fresh tears sprung from her eyes before she turned away to lay her head on his chest. “You’re not a story to me,” she repeated.

***

Samantha stopped pacing and looked over at Ryan in the hospital bed. He took up the whole bed. So big and strong, like nothing could hurt him.

“Yes.”

“Come on then, it’l pass the time while we wait for the results.”

Samantha pul ed the cards out of her purse and sat down on the bed. “Go Fish?”

“If I must,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“Next time I promise a game of strip poker.”

Ryan laughed. “Too bad my lucky streak ended today.”

Samantha’s stomach did a little flip. She loved his smile. Loved to hear his laugh. And she almost lost it al today. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re alive.”

She dealt the cards. He had asked her to trust him. To trust him with what happened in Iraq.

“Do you have any threes?” asked Ryan.

She put down her three. Her gaze stayed on the card as she said, “A man died because of me. The man who drove me that day.”

Ryan took her hand, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“If I hadn’t gone he would stil be alive. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in getting the big story, his kids would stil have a father.”

“Samantha, he’s the one who set up the meeting.”

She held his hand tight. “I could’ve have said no. I should’ve said no. Any one of those Marines who stormed in to save me could’ve been kil ed.”

“Who found you so fast because the Iraqi children in the nearby vil age remembered you. Liked you.”

Samantha tried to hold back the tears, but the three of diamonds began to morph into an eight through her watery eyes. “Did you know the locals use the term Ali Baba when they’re tel ing Marines about the insurgents?”

Pul ing her closer, the cards flittered to the floor. Ryan tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No, I didn’t.”

Her gaze meant his. “I thought I was going to die.” She didn’t see sympathy in his eyes. Only deep hurt for what she went through. “They told me I was.” She didn’t want to tel him the rest, but she didn’t want any secrets between them. He deserved to know what he was getting himself into. “I was kept in a dark hut. No food. No water.”

“Samantha,” his voice soothed.

She couldn’t look at him. Her gaze dropped to his chest. “They kicked me. Punched me.” She drew in a breath. “Spit on me. Cal ed me a whore. I prepared myself to die. Welcomed it.”

“No, Samantha.”

“You start thinking about regrets,” she rushed on.

“Like what?” he asked softly.

She sighed. “At first stupid stuff, like not trying out for the swim team. Then real, deeper regrets start in. Being away from my family, not being there for the births of my nephews and nieces.” She looked up. “Not being kissed by you.”

He brushed away her tears. “You thought about me over there.”

“Yeah, did the whole ‘if I get out of here I promise to…”

He pul ed her into the safety of his arms.

“I love you, Ryan. I want to move in with you.”

“I have a better offer. An offer I should have made in the first place. Marry me, Samantha.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. Did he feel sorry for her? Was he asking out of love or some misplaced sense of honor? “Are you sure? That hit to your head-”

“Only knocked some sense into me.”

She laughed.

“I fel in love with you the day I kissed you at your parents house. I’ve spent every day since trying to wrap my head around it.” Ryan tilted her chin up. Their gazes meant. “You’re right, I’m lucky to be alive. So are you. We’ve both been given second chances. Marry me? No regrets for either of us.”

There was quick rap on the door. Samantha got up from the bed. The doctor stepped in. “I have your results.” He flipped open his clipboard.

Samantha held Ryan’s hand tight. He gave a smile of reassurance.

“Al came back normal.” The doctor signed some papers. “I’m releasing you, but you’l need to be re-evaluated in one week. Until then, no sports.”

“Does that include water sports?” Ryan asked.

“Al sports.” Catching the look between Samantha and Ryan, the doctor continued, “No sex, either.”

Samantha tried not to blush as the doctor gave instructions for Ryan’s after care and a list of symptoms she should look for. The doctor left the room.

“Guess this is where that ‘in sickness and in health’ comes in,” teased Samantha.

“Is that a yes?”

“Are you going to be a good patient?” she flirted.

“Yes, Ma’am. I have a very good reason to make a ful recovery.”

“Getting back on the field?”

“No, making love to you.”

Hannah gazed down in horror at the bridal bouquet in her hands. Beautiful white and red miniature roses stared back at her taunting, ‘You’re next.’

Oh hell, no
.

How did it end up in her grasp? Samantha must have aimed it right at her. She looked over to the bride to confirm her suspicions. Samantha smiled at her, looking like an angel, but she was anything but.

Hannah took a moment from being mad to admire her work. Actual y, her best friend looked more like a fairy than an angel. The cut of the wedding dress she designed for Samantha was Jane Austen inspired. Alternating bands of medal ion Irish lace draped down the bodice and skirt to form a graceful train. A wide cape col ar and capped sleeves adorned the top. The dress modestly covered her breasts. Original y, she’d planned for a little cleavage, but she couldn’t have Ryan staring at Samantha’s chest in church. Oh, he would try not to, but such men were born to fail.

It was a shame it took them ten years to get to the altar. She shook her head.
Such a waste of time.
But as she watched Ryan slip off Samantha’s garter, she realized it wasn’t a case of wasted time. It was perfect timing.

Hannah didn’t believe in happily ever after, but when she gazed upon the happy couple she started to hope.

Her stomach fluttered as the single men lined up for the garter toss. Ryan might have thrown it directly to Jake, but he stil had to fight off a dozen men to catch it. She had to dive out the way as the guys scrambled, knocking over chairs to get to it. Two men landed on the floor. Hannah secretly enjoyed the display and liked to think it was because she was the prize.

She needed to have a talk with Ryan and Samantha. Just because she pushed the two of them together didn’t give them the right to play matchmaker, especial y with the Neanderthal walking her away. Jake twirled the garter around his finger, with a look on his face that was pure feral.

Hannah wanted to run, but like prey caught in a snare, she played her part and sat in the chair. Jake kneeled at her feet.

Where he belonged.

He gently took her ankle in his hand, slipped off her shoe, and rubbed his thumb along the arch of her foot. “I miss you, Hannah.”

Oh, that voice.
His sensual touch had her squeezing her thighs together to ease the ache between her legs. But she couldn’t let him know how much she missed him. She sat with her spine rigid against the back of the chair. With disinterest she said, “Of course you do.”

Jake’s deep laughter made her want to slide from the chair into his arms. The whistles and catcal s from his teammates egged him on, but Jake acted like it was just the two of them and he had al the time in the world.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said in a bored tone.

“Hannah, my dear, it’s far from over.”

As Jake slid the garter slowly up her leg, she knew he was right.

Going For It – Hannah and Jake’s story – coming April 2012

About the Author

Liz Matis is a mild manner accountant by day and romance writer by night. She lives in the mountains of NY hoping for a HGTV makeover.

Please visit her blog at: http://www.taoofliz.blogspot.com

Email: [email protected]

Love By Design
by Liz Matis

Available Now

Design Intervention starts the second season with its own surprise makeover. Interior designer Victoria Bryce must break in her temporary co-host, Aussie Russ Rowland.

Victoria, former socialite wild child hopes the reality show wil give her the clout to launch her own design line without her family connections.

Russ, former bad boy Australian TV star is using the show to launch his acting career in the States.

Sparks fly on camera as they argue over paint colors and measurement mishaps leading to passions igniting behind the scenes. But when their pasts col ide with the present wil the foundation they built withstand the final reveal?

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Copyright © 2011 Elizabeth Matis

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