The Player (2 page)

“Sounds good to me. I’m gonna take that as a ‘maybe’ and leave before you change your mind.”

*****

It was a relief not to have all the drama that went with the Renegade players. The remainder of the night was slow, with only a few guys engaged in a game of pool and three or four couples wanting hot wings from the kitchen. This is how Harlow liked it. Slow, but not too crowded.

Kyle was sitting in his usual spot, but he’d asked her to change the channel on the TV. It wouldn’t do to watch another ESPN highlight of his interception being run back for a touchdown. Figuring he needed some strokes, Harlow tried to cheer him up. “That was from last week. You guys are at home on Sunday, and I know you’ll win.”

“From your mouth to God’s ear.” He picked up his glass in a pretend toast. “Anymore wisdom you’d like to share?”

“Well, you could spread your passes out a little more.”

“Ouch”

“Sorry, it’s really none of my business. You know what you’re doing.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind a Monday morning quarterback, so long as they look as good as you.”

There was a spark between them. Not a little one, but something that could turn their playful flirtation into much more. As he lifted his glass to sip more of his drink, his eyes tracked her, the way she moved, easy and sensual, and no matter how many orders were thrown her way or orders that weren’t right came back, she didn’t panic. A smile coming from her lush, full lips was enough to make him wonder what it would be like if she beamed one of those winner’s his way, and on a regular basis. Like just after they’d made mad, passionate love.

“Now I feel bad ‘cause you’re pouting,” she said, “I can tell what you must’ve looked like as a child.”

He gave her a half smile. “I was fat. My dad had a thing for mullets, so me and my brothers wore ‘em. Even my sister had one.”

“You have my deepest sympathy.”

That made him break into a wide grin. He picked up his drink again, grimacing as the pure vodka hit his throat. After a cough and pretend blow to his chest, he looked up at her with watery eyes. “I did say give me the good stuff, didn’t I? Next time I’ll just let you order for me.”

Harlow nodded, not sure if she should continue down this road. “If there’s anything else you need-”

“How about your company?”

“I-”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve got some rule about not dating your customers”

“But you’re not just any customer-”

“Pretend I am.”

“That’s kinda hard with the entourage you’ve got.”

Kyle glanced over his shoulder, finally acknowledging the buxom blonde and her equally well-endowed brunette friend who were giggling and thrusting their chests out. They waved, but he didn’t wave back. Instead he turned back Harlow’s way. “That’s just great,” he muttered. Where were they when he was fourteen and needed that kind of ego boost in the worst way? Thinking of his pitted skin, bear trap braces, mullet and chicken chest brought out a fire in his eyes that made Harlow take a step back.

“They’re coming for you,” she warned. The guys at the pool table hollered out a few not so subtle invitations, making the ladies swing their hair one way while their breasts went another. The guys clearly had no chance, unless of course, there was some sort of divine intervention.

“What time do you get off?” Kyle pulled a large bill from his wallet, one that had a president she’d seen only twice in the cash register. He slid it her way. “Buy the ladies and everyone else in here whatever they want. Mind if I go out the back way?”

“Straight through the kitchen. Keep to your left, and you’ll see the exit sign. Be sure to ask the dish washer to turn off the alarm before you go out the door.”

He’d timed his escape perfectly. The groupies tried wiggling to his chair as quickly as they could, but stiletto heels and super tight miniskirts weren’t made to move fast in. He’d already faked them out with a sweet a lateral move, walking straight to the kitchen without turning their way.

“WTF?” The blonde sounded more angry than disappointed.

The brunette couldn’t stop twirling the ends of her hair. “This is like, soooo embarrassing.”

“He offered to pay for whatever you’re drinking.” Harlow stretched both ends of the bill so they could see how generous he’d been. “I’d say you could even include the guys at the pool table.”

At her suggestion, the duo took a second look at the men. Their beautiful heads bobbed in a hive mind kind of way, and without speaking they had consensus, wiggling to the back of the bar.

Ah, those were the days, Harlow thought. There was a time she could wear the hell out of a size two dress. Now a size twelve might be too constricting. Her love of soda was one of the main culprits. The other was her need for comfort foods, like her obsession with “doubles” a tasty but somewhat messy dish she’d pig out on whenever she’d fly back to Trinidad. But doubles right about now would be a poor substitute for the pity party she was having with herself. Damn that Kyle McClure! He’d just left and she was already missing him.

The bar phone rang, and she propped it under under her neck. “Harlow’s.”

“Hey, you know you never answered my question.”

“Oh, it’s you again,” she drawled, acting like she was bored. “The kitchen’s closed, and no, I can’t ask so ‘n so to come to the phone.”

The voice on the other end of the line gave a deep, rousing laugh. “I love how you pretend not to like me.”

“I’m really not pretending.”

“You’re not?”
Damn.
“I’m sorry, I won’t bother you-”

“Uh, hold it. I’m the one who should apologize. Apparently my sarcasm doesn’t work over the phone. I was just kidding.”

Whew.
He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding. “Why don’t you let me take you out for breakfast after you get off?”

“I really can’t. I have to get home.”

“Are you with someone?”

“Sort of. I’ve a twelve year old to get home to. I like to be there when she wakes up because that’s around the same time my sitter leaves.”

“Did you say you’ve got a boy or a girl?”

“A girl.” His silence prompted her to ask, “What about you?”

“A little girl. She’s six, and she’s at that age where whatever the kids say about me in school really bothers her.”

“Been there. And I think I’ve got you beat, because my ex wrote a hit rap song that was aimed at me, but he says it’s not. Anyway, I’m still fighting the label of ‘ultimate gold-digger.’ Some TV producer even approached me about doing a reality show with my ex.”

“Tell me that you turned them down.”

“I did, but I thought really hard before giving them an answer. In the end it was all about my daughter. She deserves to grow up without all the paparazzi craziness.”

Kyle agreed, wishing he could see her pretty face. “Come outside.”

“For what?”

“Because I’m sitting in my car, in the parking lot. And I want to see you.”

“I can’t. I’m still working.”

“So you never take a break?”

“I already did.”

“So take another one. You’re the boss, you’ve earned it.”

“You know, for a guy I just met you’re really-”

“Hot? Sexy?”

“I was gonna say full of it.”

He made her laugh. And she was attracted to him. The problem was she’d been down this road before with her ex. But it had been so long . . . “Okay, five minutes. And I want the heat on.”

“
The heat?
Damn woman, it’s a balmy sixty-five degrees out here.”

“Yes,
but in here
I’ve got the air-conditioning running. That’s another reason I have my jacket under the bar. I usually have to put it on because I’m freezing.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I can always take off my shirt if I start sweating.”

Just then she had a mental image of him not only taking off his shirt, but slipping hers up and over her arms, tossing it aside and leaning in close for a kiss. This was bad. This was truly bad. Because if Kyle McClure wanted more than a kiss tonight, she was afraid that she just might give in.

2

When was the last time he’d been this excited about a woman? Hell, he couldn’t really remember. Kyle leaned against the head rest, his eyes never leaving the front door of the bar. Maybe she’d take the back way like he’d done, he thought, so his eyes briefly left the entrance to quickly scan where she might appear along the side. A soft tap on his passenger side window made him flinch.

There stood Harlow, laughing at his wuss move while holding up both her hands in surrender. “Come on, let me in. I promise I don’t have a bat this time.”

“I dunno,” he whined. “I have to be careful ‘cause you could still hurt my feelings.”

She laughed harder at his joke while he popped the lock. Sliding onto the leather seat, she watched his face change expressions. He’d gone from highly amused to stone faced in mere seconds. “Uh, Kyle, is something wrong?”

“No.” His voice can out in a deep sigh. “This is the first good thing I’ve had happen to me in a long time. Thanks for agreeing to babysit me.”

“Oh come on,” she teased, trying to get him to loosen up again. “You gave up two perfectly good groupies for me. I’m very flattered.”

His head tilted as he studied her.
God, how he wanted to slowly kiss all that lip gloss off her mouth.
But that would be rushing it. He didn’t want to pounce on her, but the fact the she was near and yet so far from him – thanks to his car’s middle console with its intrusive leather armrest – and whatever perfume she wore, a sweet floral mixture, and the way her thighs were demurely pressed together in those form fitting pants had his control waning.

“Kyle?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not really saying anything. Is something on your mind?”

“Aside from how much I really, really like you, and don’t wanna fuck this up?”

She chuckled, propping both elbows on the arm rest, silently staring at him. When her lips parted he took it was an invitation to move in. And . . . of course they bumped foreheads. But it was just the icebreaker each of them needed, as a sweet kiss turned into a head rolling, tongue probing, urgent
“I so need this”
bit of closeness. After breaking apart they both struggled for air.

“When I’m able to breathe again I want a do-over,” he grumbled, pretending to be upset.

“W-what?”

With eyes that were illuminated in blue just like his car’s instrument panel, Kyle crooked a finger under her chin. “On a scale of one to ten, that kiss was a nine. I think the next one could be a ten if you’ll give me another chance.”

His stare was so intense that she inwardly fought off saying something that would come out the wrong way. This wasn’t the time for self-conscious jokes. And most of all, she had to put a certain ex-husband out of her mind. With a naughty grin, she gave him an answer. “Let’s do this.”

*****

They sat in his car and talked. And joked around. And kissed.

The excitement of their mutual attraction had them both acting as silly as teenagers.
Lord knows I need this,
Harlow thought. After loving just one man for almost her whole life, she never thought anyone could rival Ozzy’s charm. But Kyle seemed to be genuinely interested in her and what she had to say. She told him about Reina, and he shared some things about his little girl Madison, or “Maddy” as he called her. After pulling out his wallet and showing off a picture of a little cutie with big brown eyes and dark hair, Kyle sounded like any other proud papa. Of course Maddy was not just a smart six year old, but positively brilliant. Harlow grinned as she listened, thinking of how she’d  heard her ex say the very same thing about their daughter Reina.

“It hasn’t been easy with me and my ex,” Kyle admitted. “Maybe I should’ve married Erin for Maddy’s sake, but by the time we agreed on it our relationship was over. So we both realized marriage would’ve been a big mistake. At least this way we’re still on speaking terms, though I can’t say the same for her current boyfriend. Sometimes I just can’t help being worried and a little possessive, especially with the kind of guys my ex has an attraction for. I try to stay out of her business, but it’s hard.”

“That sounds pretty ominous.”

“Does it?” He began fidgeting with the knobs and push buttons on his instrument panel, wondering if she’d think bad of him for talking about the mother of his child. “I don’t mean to imply that she’s not a good mother, because she is. But I never realized how hard it is to see someone you care for with another man.
And with my daughter.”
He sighed and looked out the driver’s side window. “I’m not proud of some of the things I did when we were together. I guess I could chalk it up to being full of myself and obsessively in love. I don’t like to go out much, and I’m not very social when I do. She called me ‘boring’ and an ‘old man in a young man’s body.’ I guess in some ways I am.”

Harlow raised her hand in solidarity. “Hey, I hear yuh. Nothin’ wrong with having a little fun, but if you know you can’t keep up then the best thing is to be honest with yourself. Sometimes I get calls from one or two of my ex-husband’s cast-off’s. Poor girls seem to think I’m still partying with him, but really, I only talk to Ozzy when it has to do with Reina.”

“I’m hoping that last part was for my benefit.”

“I just thought you should know how it is between me and him. I’ve already been through the whole
I love him but I really hate him, but I do still love him
anguish. After a while I didn’t need to call to let him know what an asshole I thought he was whenever I’d see a photo of who he was seeing. Our break-ups have been pretty public, especially since he likes to write songs about the women in his life.”

Kyle cocked his head, deep in thought. “His name’s Ozzy? If that’s also his stage name then I think I’ve heard his songs in the locker room.”

“Oh I’m sure you have. He’s a rapper but he also writes songs for other artists.”

Kyle wracked his brain, wondering if he’d ever run into the guy before. Lots of rappers liked to hang out at sports events and awards. A picture of a skinny guy with sausage thick dreads came to mind. And with the amount of hits he’d had, Kyle wondered why the man’s ex was even working. “Does he provide for you and your daughter?”

“Of course he does. But I bank some of that money because it’s for Reina’s benefit, not mine. I was always brought up to take care of myself. Maybe he’s not husband material just yet, but as a father the man is phenomenal.”

They both got quiet after that, especially when Yomi stuck her head out of the front door.

“I can take over the cash register,” Yomi hollered. “You stay as long as you want.” Her sly grin said it all, causing Harlow to wonder how many of her regular patrons knew she was outside with Kyle. That was her cue to make a graceful exit, so after a long goodbye smooch, Harlow got out of the car feeling light headed and oh so horny. Sensing his stare on her backside, Harlow put a little more oomph in her stride, rocking her hips from side to side, her high heels clicking on the pavement with confidence and a little bit of daring. Loving her sexy stroll, Kyle lowered his car window to give her ass a nice shout out.

Soon as Harlow got back behind the bar, she took out her cell phone to dig up as much information as she could on Kyle McClure. Her eyes widened at his annual income, including his lucrative endorsement deals. There were a list of names ahead of him as the highest paid players in the NFL but there were two things they all had in common. They were all quarterbacks and all were millionaires. Aaron Rodgers, Tom Brady, Payton Manning, Russell Wilson, Drew Brees and Kyle McClure. With a little more digging she Googled pictures of his family. She viewed a photo of Kyle with two younger brothers who were even taller than he was, all wearing football jerseys, each one a younger carbon copy of the other. Then there were pictures of Kyle with more than a few Hollywood starlets and reality TV stars. The majority of the photos were of Kyle with his arm slung back, ready to make a pass or just completing one. There were a few memes with funny slogans and GIFs of him getting knocked to the ground and bouncing right back up in an infinite loop that were hilarious.

At the same time she played Sherlock Holmes, Kyle used his own phone to do some checking on Harlow’s ex, Ozzy. There were photos of the guy looking tough, with a group of men with dreads longer than this. A number of bios on his life and his hit songs, selfies with Kanye and Kim, Jay-Z and Beyoncé, Rhianna . . . and a small article about his divorce. But from that short article came a wealth of gossipy websites with titles like
“The Urban Low Down”
and
“Direct from Da Streets.”
With a few more finger swipes across his screen, he found an article on Harlow. Kyle settled back in his seat, his eyes trained on the text, unblinking as he read.