Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Sean
“That was underhanded,” she says under her breath as she catches up with us, helping Jimmy on with his coat. I’m no expert, but it looks small for him.
“You’re not mad, are you?” I know she’s not, but I want to hear her admit it.
“Not really.” she sighs. “How could I be?”
“Let’s make an arrangement, then.”
“For the puppy, right?” She says, giving me a sassy smirk.
“For whatever I can get,” I say, putting Dasher on the ground.
It’s warm for a December afternoon, the sun almost set and the air crisp.
The streets are lined with lights and holiday wreaths with bright red bows on doorways.
There’s shiny red and green garland strung across the street at intervals.Christmas is only three and a half weeks away.
“Can I hold the leash?” Jimmy says. Turning to Ronnie, I raise a brow in question.
“Sure, but let me help you.” She puts the loop around his wrist.
I’m watching as she bends down and her baggy jeans tighten against her ass, treating me to a dick teasing eyeful.
When she straightens up, she turns to me with those bold blue eyes and says, “So who are you besides a field goal kicker and a dog lover? Who is Sean Patrick?” We follow Jimmy and Dasher as they head for the park a few yards away.
“You want the short version or the long version?” A nervous thrill quickens my breath.
She’s interested in me. My cock tightens, but I tamp down on the automatic response.
Ronnie is different. From the minute I saw her with her son, I automatically put her in a different box, the one no other woman has ever been in, the someone special box.
“I want the version you don’t tell a woman on a first date because it would scare her, the one it would take her months to find out.”
First date. My grin pops out, but I don’t call her on it, I savor it.
“Ah. The short-cut version. All the dirt and surprises right up front.” I’m smiling, but my nerves spike through the roof and my heart thuds like it does when we’re in the tunnel waiting to take the field before a game.
Excited doesn’t cover how I feel. A little scared too, if I’m being honest. But I clear my throat and sneak a deep breath in the face of her questioning expression and those damn irresistible eyes.
The dark lashes framing the vivid blue flutter while she waits for my answer patiently.
She’s so damn beautiful and tempting, I need to concentrate on my answer. No way am I giving into my distracting need to feel her in my arms, to taste her, to be inside her—I look away.
“I’m an Army brat, lived in six countries and eight states growing up with five siblings.
My dad’s a tough s.o.b. and my mom is a funny tough old broad with a heart of gold.
I’m lucky I have them.” I stop because she’s looking at me like a deprived kid looking in the window of a candy store.
Am I an asshole for sharing my good fortune when she’s clearly had misfortune? Fuck, yeah.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Sorry? For what? For being normal? That I’m not—”
I take her by the arms to soothe her annoyance and her pain—because her sarcasm is a poor mask for her pain. And to touch her. “No. For being an asshole. I have no tact—”
“You’re right, but I don’t care about tact.
I don’t have any either.” A small lift of one side of her mouth relieves me.
I step closer because she looks cold, but I stop short of hauling her into a hug.
Barely. Jimmy runs ahead into the park toward the sand play area with a labyrinth of tube slides and PVC pipes for climbing.
“Well, what else besides that you’ve seen the world and have a great family?”
“I didn’t say they were great. The fam has its issues, but we do stick together.” No way am I getting into the sibling rivalries that have occasionally erupted into wars over the years.
“So, you’ve had sibling rivalries?”
“You know a lot without me telling you.”
“I read. Watch TV. I don’t live in a cave. I get how families work even if I didn’t come from the same place.” Her defenses are fully erected and I’m seeing the tough, not so sweet and soft side of her. Opposite of the way she is with the animals and with Jimmy.
And damn if that toughness doesn’t make my heart pitter-patter even harder than before. My cock agrees with the rest of me as it hardens, ready for action. Which it’s most definitely not going to get. Not today. Not likely any time soon.
“Let’s sit on the bench.” I point to the now empty bench nearby. We can see Jimmy and Dasher chasing after sticks. Jimmy throws them and they both chase after them.
“They’re both good at fetching,” she says, following my eyes as we sit. I don’t leave much space between us and rest my arm on the bench behind her. Turning slightly to face her, I decide to make some admissions.
“I have a reputation as a player. Mostly deserved.” Until now. But that’s something I have to prove, not something I can tell her.
“I might have picked up on rumors about that,” she says with a shrug.
“Doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? I’m not planning to marry you, am I? You don’t owe me anything. Not even this.” She waves an arm in Jimmy and Dasher’s direction.
“I thought we were on a first date?” I say, holding my smile in place and holding in my disappointment.
She shrugs. “We’re not. But call it that if it lights your fire. Even so, this is going to be the tamest first date you’ve ever had Mr. Player.”
I laugh. “Fair enough. I can do slow and easy. Even if I don’t have much experience at it. I’m willing to learn for you.”
“Is that right?” Her brow rises in skepticism, her smile lighting her face, her jewel blue eyes dancing.
I’m so caught up I can’t even remember what we’re talking about, what she’s asking, so I nod.
The impulse to kiss her is so strong that I grip the wood of the bench behind her and shove my other hand in my pocket.
My cock stiffens and I pull my coat over my lap before she notices.
Not that she would look there, but…
“So what else? What’s your secret fear and your secret desire?”
“Not much is secret about me,” I say. “I’m pretty much an open book. I’m afraid of losing the super bowl for my team on a missed kick and what I want most is to win it for my team on the last play of the game.”
“Shallow.”
I laugh. “Okay, on a more personal level…” I pause for beat, gather my thoughts, aware of vulnerability seeping through with revelations and wondering why the hell I’m bothering.
But then I look back at her eyes, their challenge, the warmth and toughness underneath and so much more about her that lies beneath, that I’m strangely aware of on an instinctive level.
Nothing I can explicitly name, but all the things that add up to her, who she is, speak to me in an elemental way, without words or even thoughts.
Only feelings. And that irrepressible tug of desire so intense and crazy I don’t remember ever getting this worked up before.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’m afraid at the end of the road, when my career winds down and the train of available women stops, I’ll be left alone.” I watch for her reaction.
“That won’t happen.” She pats my knee, the warmth of her hand shoots straight to my dick, making it strain against my jeans, begging for freedom. I need to concentrate to listen to what she’s saying because it’s important.
“You have so much more to offer than football. In fact, football is the least good thing about you,” she says, confident as if she’s a fortuneteller or my long-time friend.
“And how would you know that?”
“I’m not well educated, but I’m not blind and dumb. You’re kind to puppies and children. What’s more important than that?”
I laugh. “Touché. Same goes for you, you know?”
She turns away and blushes a little. “Except I don’t have anything like an NFL career as the least good thing about me.”
“No. Want me to tell you what the least good thing about you is?”
“Can I stop you?” She gives me that charming half smile which on someone else might be a smirk.
“You’re gorgeous. Absolutely fucking drop dead gorgeous. If you were taller, I’d tell you to quit the animal shelter business and go for modeling—”
She waves a hand at me. “Gorgeous women—not that I’m one of them—are a dime a dozen. Besides, beauty is not a lasting commodity.”
“Where’d you hear that? A Chinese fortune cookie?”
She smiles a heart-breakingly sad smile. “My mother told me. On my birthday. The day she and my dad died.”
Damn. Damn. Damn. Fuck fighting my instincts. I slide my arm around her and pull her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. She’s stiff and resistant for a second, but when I don’t let go, she softens.
“Of course your mother’s right. But there’s more to your beauty than meets the eye. That will never disappear.” Her head is tucked under my chin, so I don’t see her, but I feel her sigh. Then I let her go, reluctantly.
“You don’t know me.” She says, looking up at me, her face a mask, her blue eyes shuttered.
“I know enough. Besides, I’m planning to learn more.” Everything there is.
“So you’re an Army brat. That explains why you’re so gregarious and easy going. You’re experienced at meeting new people all the time,” she says and I don’t miss the wistful note.
“Tell me more about you. How you grew up,” I say
Her face goes into panic and then she shakes her head and scoffs. “You don’t realize how loaded a question that is.”
“Now I’m dying to get the answer.” I nudge her chin back in my direction so I can see her riveting eyes.
The way she looks at me, I could get lost. Her eyes tell me more than her words.
There’s tragedy underneath. But then I knew that.
She lost her parents and she’s a single mother struggling to make ends meet.
“Please tell me. It can’t all be bad. I really want to get to know you. The story behind the beautiful animal-loving, hard-working single mom. You’re very intriguing to me.”