After All These Years (One Pass Away #2) (15 page)

From there, it quickly snowballed until Lynette was the only
one left who hadn’t declared her support.

“Kyle doesn’t screw around. Anymore.”

Riley knew it was as close as the woman would get to jumping
on the bandwagon. The important thing was, a potential crisis had been diverted
and Riley had established some new friendships.

“Well done, Riley.” Racine hugged her. “Wives and
girlfriends have a lot of sway with their men. It never hurts to have them on
your side.”

“Something tells me when I’m running the team, these good
feelings will be tempered during contract negotiations.”

“No doubt.” Racine laughed.

Her husband faced a new deal at the end of the season.
However, that had little to do with Riley. In all likelihood, Sol would be
retired before team ownership changed hands.

Riley believed their friendship would survive a contentious
negotiation, but she was glad they wouldn’t have to find out.

“That went well,” Riley said when she and Claire headed
home.

“Racine knew what she was doing. The women who attended will
spread the word.
Riley Preston can be trusted with our men
.”

“God.” Riley blew out a puff of air. “How did it come to
this? I wouldn’t know how to seduce all those men if I wanted to.”

“Seduce? Riley, you’re young and beautiful. Men are easy.
With most of them, unintended eye contact is all it takes.”

“I’m glad you didn’t share that opinion today.”

Claire grinned. “I had a great time. Good eats, plenty of
juicy gossip, and some old-fashioned snark. Felt like a church social back in
Iowa.”

“I’ve never been to a church social.”

Riley changed lanes. The freeway traffic was relatively
mild. In an hour, it would be back to back commuters. Racine and Sol lived in
Bellevue. The clever woman planned the get-together so anyone headed back to
Seattle would miss the late afternoon bottleneck.

“I went for the food and left before anyone tried to save my
soul.”

“Was your soul in danger?” Riley enjoyed the stories Claire
told about Iowa. She loved Seattle. However, she had always thought living in a
small town would be nice. Claire made her rethink that. Neighbors who knew every
intimate detail of your personal business? No, thank you.

“Compared to some of my friends, I was an angel. That didn’t
stop the true believers from trying to suck me in. I like my religion in small
doses—if at all.”

They rode in silence, happy with their own thoughts. Half an
hour later, Riley pulled to a stop outside of Claire’s apartment building.

“Thank you for speaking up for me,” Riley said.

Claire patted her knee. “What are friends for?”

It was a good question. One that, until recently, Riley thought
she knew the answer. However, thanks to Claire and Racine, the definition of
friendship had taken on a wider scope.

It was nice to have someone to call up for lunch or a few
drinks. This was deeper. Too often the word friend was thrown around with a casual
ease. Riley hadn’t realized how important a deep connection to another woman
was.

Until now.

THE KNIGHTS LOST their second game of the season on a snowy
night in Denver.

Road games were always tricky. Odd start times. Strange beds.
Routines knocked out of whack. Then there was the wild card. The weather.

Riley watched the game from the comfort of her soft, comfy
sofa. It was raining. A soggy, cold, early November afternoon. She hadn’t felt
like going out or having company. She ordered in beef barley soup and a side of
garlic bread. Opened a can of diet root beer and snuggled under her favorite
comforter.

She expected a win. She could have lived with a loss.
Unfortunately, the game didn’t simply slip away in the final minutes because of
an iffy call by one of the officials. Kyle Trenton sustained a season-ending
broken leg.

Riley didn’t give a thought to her antagonistic encounter
with Lynette. That had been a few weeks ago. A different time. A different
situation. The woman’s husband had been injured playing for Riley’s team.

Rushing to her desk, she took out the player directory that
contained everyone’s home number.

Then she grabbed her phone and dialed.

“What?”

Under the bark, Riley could hear the tears in Lynette’s
voice.

“How are you, Lynette?”

“My husband is in a Denver hospital. He’s over a thousand
miles away and I can’t get a flight out until tomorrow. How do you think I am?”

“Do you have someone who can stay with your children?”

“My mother is here.”

“Good. Pack a bag. I’ll send a car. By the time you get to
the airport, there will be a private plane waiting to take you to Denver.”

“Really?” The sound of Lynette blowing her nose made Riley
wish she was there to hand her a tissue.

“You and Kyle are family. This is what we do.”

“Thank you. I… Thank you.”

“Have a safe flight.”

Riley hung up. She had done everything she could. Kyle’s
treatment and recovery were out of her hands. However, if the Trenton family
needed anything, she planned on making sure they got it.

IT FELT LIKE a typical Monday morning. The rain fell in cold,
windy streaks against her bedroom window. All Riley wanted to do was stay in
bed with Sean. Never mind their responsibilities.

From the moment Sean arrived at her door last evening, the
rest of the world ceased to exist. Nothing could shatter their self-made cocoon
unless they let it.

Almost nothing.

“I can’t believe your father gave you grief.”

“He blustered,” Riley corrected, her head resting on Sean’s
shoulder. The mention of her father took a little shine off the morning “It’s a
company plane. I had every authority to use it. His only recourse was to
emphasize, in rather a colorful use of language, how much he disapproved.”

“Asshole.”

Riley couldn’t argue.

“He’ll never change, Sean. You need to understand that.”

“Are you warning me off?”

The laughter in his voice should have been a good thing.
Riley sighed. Unfortunately, it meant Sean
didn’t
understand.

Loving a man at a distance wasn’t easy, but it had one
advantage. Her parents weren’t an issue when being with Sean had been a long
shot. A dream she made herself stop believing would come true.

Now, he was a solid, honest-to-goodness part of her life.
Which made Gerald and Corrine Preston a shadow she couldn’t ignore. They were
petty and vindictive. Eventually, some of it was bound to spill onto Sean.

The thought made Riley sick to her stomach.

“I wish you could have known my grandfather. He was the
anti-Gerald.”

“He loved you.”

Riley nodded. “And showed me every day.”

“I’ve heard stories. Coach Colman knew him. I can count on
one hand the number of people Coach speaks about with reverence. Your
grandfather is one of them.”

“He made a deep impression on everyone.”

Sean kissed her, loosening the knot in her stomach. She felt
warm and safe. What they were building was good. Solid.

Maybe she made too much of her father’s looming presence.
Riley had the memory of her grandfather. Sean grew up with loving parents. She
had to stop looking for trouble and simply enjoy precious moments like this
one.

“Film.” Sean kissed Riley’s neck. “Study.” His lips moved to
her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver of sexual awareness through her body.
“Work.”

“None of those words make sense,” Riley insisted. She slid
her hand down his chest. “Kisses and erection? Only a big tease would start
something he didn’t intend to finish.”

“You know me better than that.”

It was slow. Mellow. Riley floated through a clear, warm sea
of emotions. She lay back and let Sean spin a masterful combination of
technique and natural ability around her body. The man loved what he was doing
and it showed. No part of her was neglected.

It was a slow build. Riley clutched at the sheets, moaning
Sean’s name.

“God. When you call out to me, it sings in my blood. Say my
name.”

“Sean.”

“Again.” He kissed her. So sweet and undeniably erotic.

“Sean.”

Riley sailed. She closed her eyes and swore that she was
flying—over the edge into blissful oblivion.

Sean
.
My Sean
.

“YOU NEED TO see this.”

Sean sighed when Gaige passed him his phone.

“More pictures? It’s been two weeks. I thought we were done
with that shit.”

“More like a lull before the next wave.”

“I’d like to pulverize the person behind this. It isn’t fair
that most of this continually falls on Riley.”

“Look at the picture, Sean.”

The words that came out of his mouth were extreme—even for
an NFL locker room.

“This is bullshit, Gaige.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?” Incredulous, Sean advanced until he
and his best friend stood toe to toe. “It. Is. Bullshit.”

Sean was accustomed to seeing photographs of himself. In the
United States, football was king. If a man played the game, he received a lot
of attention. If that man played at a superstar level and looked like Sean, the
attention was multiplied by a thousand.

As a young man, he craved the attention. Encouraged it. He
dated the most beautiful women and frequented the hottest clubs because he knew
it would add to his image as a player—on and off the field. Sean wasn’t ashamed
of his past. He’d had a damn good time.

However, he knew his reputation made the picture of himself
and Ava Stanhope locked in a passionate embrace, harder to explain away.

“I haven’t seen Ava in months. The last time, I was with
Riley.”

“I’m not accusing you, Sean.” Gaige shook his head. “If you
say it’s an old picture, I believe you.”

“Thank you.”

“The world doesn’t care if you screw every woman in sight.
They love your playboy reputation. I wouldn’t care. If you weren’t dating
Riley. She’s the one who will have to deal with the blowback. Again.”

“I need to get to her. Immediately.”

Sean grabbed his jacket and was halfway out the door when
Rob Cotter called out.

“I knew the choir boy routine was just an act, McBride. One
woman is never enough for long.”

When Sean stopped, his shoulders stiff, Gaige shoved him out
the door.

“Go. I’ll take care of that asshole.”

When he was certain Sean was gone, Gaige slowly turned. His
teammates recognized the steely glint in their QB’s green eyes. One by one,
they cleared the path, not wanting to get between him and Rob Cotter.

“You have a big mouth, Rob.”

“Since when is McBride off limits to some harmless teasing?”
Rob knew he had gone too far, but he wasn’t willing to back down in front of
the other Knights.

“See these?” Gaige held up his hands. Big. Strong. With long
fingers and wide palms. Perfect for holding a football with ease—or doing
serious damage to another man’s face. “Tools of my trade. I can’t afford to
break a bone teaching you right from wrong.”

“Jesus,” Rob snorted. The bravado he tried so hard to
cultivate was fading. Fast. “I’m not a rookie who needs Papa Gaige’s sage
advice.”

“Then pull your head out of your ass, Cotter. Look around.
Every man in this locker room is on a mission. A team. Moving as one, with the
same goal. Why the hell are you determined to be the weak link? Why don’t you
want to win?”

“I do,” Rob grumbled.

However, what Rob wanted—needed—even more, was money. He had
a gambling habit, two ex-wives, and a career hanging by a thread, unraveling
with every passing second. Maintaining a rah, rah attitude wasn’t easy when he
was surrounded by younger, more talented players. Gaige Benson and his buddy
Sean McBride were on the top of Rob’s shit list. Was it any wonder he took
every opportunity to be a burr under their overpriced saddles?

“Here’s my advice.” Gaige looked him directly in the eye. “I
suggest you take it. Riley Preston is off limits. Correction. All women are off
limits.”

“Excuse me?
All women
? What the hell does that mean?”

“Simple. You have a knack for saying the wrong thing about
the wrong person. You never know who might be dating the woman you’ve singled
out. Save yourself a fat lip. Keep your opinions, good or bad, to yourself.”

“Locker rooms aren’t supposed to be PC, Benson,” Rob called
out. Gaige was already out the door. Looking around for support, Rob found
none. “Come on, guys. When did we become Boy Scouts? We’re football players.
That used to mean crude and rude.”

“You heard Gaige. You can call him and Sean anything you
want. Just lay off the ladies. Unless it’s a Kardashian.” Sol looked around. “Kardashians
are safe. Right?”

“I kind of like Khloe,” one of the guys called out.

“Really? Huh.” Sol shrugged. “Well, there’s no accounting
for taste. Play it safe, Cotter. If it involves a woman, keep your thoughts to
yourself, locked away inside that pea brain of yours.”

Rob’s temper spiked to a dangerous level. It wasn’t easy to
keep it tamped down until he was alone, but he managed it—barely. The inside of
his truck took the brunt of his displeasure. A mile from the stadium he pulled
over and proceeded to annihilate everything in sight.

Rob took a crazy kind of pleasure in destroying the seats,
tearing at the upholstery until bits of foam padding littered the floor. The
truck could be repossessed at any time. Unlike many of his teammates, no one
gave him a slick ride to tool around in. He had to pay for it with his own hard
earned money. He was a football player, Goddamn it. He shouldn’t have to pay
for anything. It was the dealership’s fault. If they had given him the truck,
they wouldn’t have to worry about what it looked like. Rob ripped off the
rearview mirror, smashing it to bits. Good luck reselling this baby.

Rob was in such a rage he almost missed the phone call. He
was about to let it go to voicemail. Then he had a thought. Maybe it was one of
his bitch ex-wives. He could kill two birds with one stone. Burn off some of
his frustration, and put the bitch in her place.

“What now? Need more of my money?”

“No. I have plenty of my own.”

Rob gripped the phone. Not an ex. Sweat from his exertions
rolled down his face unnoticed. “Who the hell is this?”

“A friend.”

“That’s rich.” Rob didn’t have any friends. That scene in
the locker room proved that.

“Would you like to be?”

“I don’t know or care what you’re talking about, asshole.”
Rob was about to hang up. His head hurt and he needed a drink—not riddles that
made his already taxed brain hurt.

“Rich. Would you like to be?”

Slowly, Rob’s thumb moved away from the keypad. He licked
his lips.

“Who is this?”

“The man who can make all your money problems disappear. I
can set you up on easy street for the rest of your life.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?”

The man laughed. “Nothing is free. It’s up to you to decide
how high a price you’re willing to pay.”

Rob could hear his mother’s voice.
The devil lurks around
every corner, Robert.
Be strong. Be good. God will reward you in heaven.
Rob hadn’t listened as a child and he wasn’t listening now.

A life of ease and luxury? Hell yes. For that kind of
guarantee, he would do anything the devil wanted, short of taking demonic cock
up the ass. Rob laughed. Shit, he was desperate. At this point, he might
consider a sulfur-infused sperm enema. If the payoff was big enough.

Eyes narrowed, Rob’s thumb caressed the side of his phone.

“How much? And how soon can I get it?”

FINDING RILEY TURNED out to be easier said than done.

His calls went directly to voicemail. According to Stuart,
the doorman at her building, she wasn’t home and hadn’t been all day.

Sean called Claire. His reception was chilly, her frosty
voice almost freezing his ear. Because he knew she cared about Riley, Sean took
the time to tell his side of the photograph. By the time he hung up, Claire
seemed convinced of his innocence.

Riley’s whereabouts was still a mystery.

He couldn’t call her parents. They were the last people who
would know what Riley was up to. Nor did he want to give them any ammo to use
in future battles.

Gerald and Corrine Preston had spent most of Riley’s life
either ignoring her or throwing roadblocks in her path. They would have no
interest in helping smooth over a bump in their daughter’s personal life.

Sean was nearing panic mode. A woman with Riley’s resources
could be anywhere. Chicago. New York. Boston. Halfway to China. A passport and
limitless money meant if Riley wanted to hide, his chances of finding her were
not good.

Somewhere between beyond calculation and no fucking chance.

He leaned against his car, wondering what was going on in
Riley’s head. She’d seen the picture. Who hadn’t? Right now, the social media
world was having a field day. Football superstar plus supermodel plus owner’s
daughter equaled blogger’s heaven.