His Leading Lady (3 page)

Benches near her filled up, and the cheering
became intense. The Gamblers were ahead by halftime. Penny’s gaze
met Mark’s as the team ran off the field for a break. He gave her a
nod before he left.

“Which one is your husband?” the woman next
to her asked.

“Oh, I’m not married. I’m dating Mark
Davis.”

“Davis? He’s good. Nice guy, too,” the woman
said as she rose up and stretched.

“Thank you.” Penny smiled at her.
Am I
dating him? One date. That’s all. It’s not really dating.

“Sue Stockton, Mike Stockton’s wife,” the
woman said, with a nod.

“Penny Thatcher.”

“As long as Sweetwater stays healthy,
Davis’ll never get to play,” Sue continued. “My husband’s the
kicker. Hasn’t missed a field goal in twenty-six tries.” She
offered her hand to Penny, who took it.

“I don’t know much about football,” Penny
said.

Sue sat down and turned to face her. “Say,
don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I have that kind of face. Could you tell me
more about the game?” The woman dropped her questioning and
launched into a detailed explanation of how the game was played and
the strengths and weaknesses of the team.

The Gamblers received the ball in the second
half and began to run away with the game.

“He might get a chance now. If they get one
more touchdown…” Sue began.

And sure enough, Darvin threw another
touchdown pass. The score was thirty-five to ten with three minutes
left to play. Penny leaned forward, twisting a tissue.

“Punter’s out sick today. Mike’ll do the kick
off,” Sue said, a gleam of pride in her smile.

The Wildcats took the ball a few yards before
the runner was taken down. It didn’t take long for them to lose
possession. One interception by a defenseman, and it was the
Gambler’s turn to drive to the goal line again.

“Do you think Mark’ll get to play?” Penny
asked.

“Yep. Looks like they’re sending him in.” Sue
said, pointing to number fifteen pushing to his feet. “Coach
usually sends in the second string for some practice when they’re
way ahead.”

A little thrill shot through Penny when Mark
glanced at her for a second before covering his sunny, blond hair
with his helmet and trotting onto the field. Her heart thumped, and
her palms went damp. Suddenly, Mark’s performance mattered. She
hardly knew him, but she wanted him to succeed. Not just to best
the obnoxious, full-of-himself Darvin Sweetwater, but to win out
because he was good, the best. He seemed so nice, so real.

Her gaze was riveted to the field, and she
held her breath.
If he’s good, he’ll become more famous than I
am.
She smiled at the image of being interrupted at dinner by
people asking for his autograph. The huddle broke, and Penny
focused her thoughts and attention on Mark.

****

Mark nodded once to Penny, then put his
helmet on and ran out on the field. His pulse quickened. Playing
was enough of a thrill, but doing it in front of the girl who’d
captured his dreams night after night was the chance of a lifetime.
He uttered a silent prayer his offensive line would protect him
long enough for him to get off a great pass.

He made eye contact with his friend, Harley
Brennan, a wide receiver. Harley grinned a knowing smile and
glanced at the stands. Mark raised his eyebrows for a second before
calling the play. When the ball was snapped, Mark’s total
concentration was on the game. He dropped back. The line held long
enough for him to fire a shot at Gam Leadbetter, who was about
fifteen yards out and not covered. Gam plucked the ball out of the
air and ran for a few more yards before he was brought down.

Adrenaline surged through Mark’s veins. He
was so focused, he didn’t even hear the crowd cheering. When the
huddle broke, he handed the ball off to Harley, who ran for twelve
more yards for another first down. Mark was pumped.

Again, they huddled. This time, one of their
tackles slipped up, and Wyoming’s middle linebacker broke through
the line. He was enormous and charging straight for Mark.

Before he even blinked, his football instinct
kicked in. Mark faked right, then cut left, sidestepped the
defender diving for him, and took off. Finding a hole in the
defense, he ran for eleven yards then slid in just before being
tackled.

The crowd went wild. Mark could do no wrong.
Smart enough not to let his luck go to his head, he calmly broke
the huddle and took the ball back for another throw. Again, he
landed a bullet, this time in Harley’s arms. Touchdown!

A warm feeling of satisfaction traveled
through him. A peek at the stands confirmed that Penny, on her feet
cheering, had seen it all. Mike Stockton loped on the field to kick
for the extra point. Mark headed for the bench. He removed his
helmet and sank down on the seat.

“Don’t let a few lucky plays go to your head,
Davis, you douche bag,” Darvin said.

“Luck had nothing to do with it.”

“Call me when you get to my level, in about
ten years.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

A stern look from the coach silenced Mark.
Darvin made a face behind the coach’s back.
I’m not going to let
this asshole take away my victory.
Turning his head, Mark
directed his gaze toward the stands again. Penny was watching him.
He lifted his hand in a brief wave, and she smiled. Darvin turned
to see who Mark was looking at.

“You fucking piece of shit! She’s mine.”

“In your dreams,” Mark said.

“She was my date.”

“Shut the hell up, and watch the game!” the
coach growled at the two quarterbacks.

Mark faced forward, returning his attention
to the action.
Damn, only forty-five seconds left to play. I
won’t get back on the field.
He frowned.

Playing time for second-stringers was always
in short supply. Unless a starter got injured, the others had to
bide their time. Frustration built up and some quit. Others tried
out for different teams. Mark was grateful to have the job. He made
a good salary, just over three hundred grand a year, which he
needed desperately.

Mark’s father had taken a powder when he was
just a teenager. Since then, he’d shouldered the burden that should
have rested on his dad. He was paying off the one hundred and sixty
thousand dollar debt for his and his sister’s college educations at
Kensington State University. He was also paying forty thousand a
year for his sister’s Master’s degree at Harvard. And he was giving
his mother money every month to supplement her meager teacher’s
pension and social security.

While other players lived in spacious houses
on a half-acre of land, Mark rented a two-bedroom apartment. He had
just enough room for himself and a place for Megan to crash when
she came to visit. Resentment crept into his tone whenever he
referred to his dad, who had left without a trace and never
contacted the family again. Mark had adored him, worshipped him.
His father had been the one who had taught him to throw a football
and do math.

When he had left, Mark had been devastated.
While Meg waited, sure their father would return, Mark had given
up. His love had soured into hate. He refused to talk about his dad
and forbid Meg from bringing him into conversation.

Even with his impressive salary, there wasn’t
a ton of money left over for dating. Meg’s conservative financial
advice had Mark saving every dime he could, in case he got injured.
He admitted that he worried about that possibility, too. What would
he do if he got hurt, couldn’t play, and got cut from the team? Who
would take care of Meg and his mom?

His sister set up a savings plan for him. She
assured him that after her education was complete, she’d find a job
with the biggest salary she could get, so Mark wouldn’t have to
shoulder such a big burden alone. He didn’t know much about finance
or opportunities for lucrative jobs for women, so he simply planned
to be supporting her forever.

Worry about Penny’s expectations entered his
mind.
Will she be happy with cheaper dates? I can’t drop a
couple hundred on dinner every week. Bet she’s used to high
rollers. Maybe I’m in over my head.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the
game. Mark smiled. A victory and a date with Penny.
Doesn’t get
any better than this.

Darvin ran up next to him as they trotted
toward the locker room. “You stole my girl. I’ll get you for that,”
he whispered.

“She was never your girl. Let it go,
Darvin.”

“Watch your back, newbie.” Darvin dropped
back to slap his wide receivers on the back while he shot Mark an
evil look.

****

Penny’s voice was a little hoarse from
cheering. She stopped in the ladies room to freshen her makeup and
comb her hair before meeting Mark. Watching him in action, she had
been impressed. He had been powerful, quick, accurate, and
graceful. She got goose bumps at the idea that a star athlete like
him was her date.

He was the guy at Jean Louis. I ran into
him. Like running into a brick wall.
She recalled losing
herself for a few moments in his blue eyes the day she had smacked
into him. She had been intrigued, but her companion, one of the
actors from her show, had pulled her away before she could find out
his identity. Mark was handsome and appeared to be normal,
respectful. Although that wasn’t certain yet, she relished being in
his company again.

There was something about him that had made
her feel safe. It was an unusual sensation for Penny, and she
treasured it. Her exceptional looks had not brought her an easy
life. Close to her mother, the young teen was crushed when she died
suddenly of an aneurysm. Her mom had entered her in beauty contests
and started her modeling at a young age. Her father had doted on
them, until her mother passed. He was lost without his smart wife
and soon began to drown his sorrow in alcohol.

As a young teenager, Penny continued to
model. When her father began to fall apart, he leaned more and more
on her. Missing work often due to hangovers or binges led to his
getting fired. As money became scarce, her father relied on her
earnings to pay the rent and put food on the table.

Penny had worked hard, long sessions under
hot lights in addition to attending school. Her social life took a
backseat, as she had so little free time. When her dad was out of
control, she had been ashamed to have friends over. Too often,
she’d had to retrieve him from one bar or another when he was
drunk. Being called away from a school dance or a party to corral
her father was humiliating. It wasn’t long before she gave up
having her own life.

Penny had counted the days until her
eighteenth birthday. On that day, she had packed up and moved out,
using the small bankroll she’d been able to squirrel away, hiding a
few dollars here and a few dollars there from her old man. She had
fled her home in Indiana and set down roots in sunny
California.

Modeling and acting classes helped her land
some commercials and print ads. She even won a plum job as a model
for a clothing catalog. She saved every cent she could, rooming
with others in small, cheap apartments. She had managed to get away
from her father and covered her tracks, changing her name and never
having a phone or apartment listed. But she looked over her
shoulder constantly, wondering when he would resurface next, drunk
and demanding money for rehab and living expenses.

It had been a hard life, but she had breathed
free and began to make friends and go out on dates, until her
father had tracked her down. He had been sick, so she had moved
back in with him temporarily, unable to turn away her only living
relative. He always promised to change, to get sober, earn a
living, but he never did.

She stopped believing. The shame of his
drunkenness never left Penny. She didn’t tell her friends about
him. Instead, she said he was dead, saving herself from probing
questions.

A strong desire for a storybook life,
including a three-bedroom house with a small lawn and a white
picket fence haunted her. Vivid, happy memories of her early years
were locked in her heart. Often at night, she’d dream of a private
and simple existence, having a man who adored her, children, and
work she loved.

She searched for the one man she could rely
on, the one who would fulfill her dreams, but he never
materialized. Happiness had eluded Penny. As stunning as she was,
she attracted the wrong kind of man. Secretly, she wondered if the
shy man hanging back was the one who could make her feel loved,
secure, and protected.

But those men were afraid to approach her, so
she had never tested her theory. Brash men, seducers, shallow men,
and users were the ones who pushed aside the sincere guys to get to
her. They always broke her heart.

After many bad encounters, she grew wary,
hiding her heart behind a protective wall, waiting to meet the one
man who would understand. The one man who could pull her under his
wing, care for her, and rescue her from pain. Still, she wasn’t
sure that even the right man could earn her trust.
Maybe I’m
beyond the ability to trust a man?

Penny leaned against Mark’s car, wondering
which group he fit into, hoping he was the one she sought. Lost in
her thoughts, she didn’t see him approach. When he touched her
shoulder, she jumped.

“Did I scare you?”

She nodded.

“Sorry. You looked so serious.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Thanks for coming and cheering me on. I
swear I did better because you were here.”

She smiled at him. “It’s exciting to watch
you. You were amazing.”

He blushed and looked down at his shoes.
“Just what I do.”

She touched his arm. He seized the
opportunity to draw her into his embrace. His strong hug eased her
mind. The warmth of his body relaxed her muscles. Tension drained
from her as she softened against him. He stroked her hair.