Playing For Keeps (19 page)

He couldn’t remember ever being this needy.
Finally, he sheathed himself, stretched out on the mattress,
covered her—and showed her what she did to him.

She took his mouth. He took hers.

And then things spun out of control.

o0o

“What made you come to my room?” Mike
asked.

She was in his arms, naked, sated and so
pliable she wanted to weep. “Not one thing exactly.” She kissed his
chest. It was rock-hard, sprinkled with hair and slick with sweat
“I’ve been so sad all week.”

“Me, too. Not being with you tore me up but
good.” He drew lazy circles on her back.
“I
was shocked as
hell to see you at the game. You said Kyle talked you into it.”

“He didn’t have to talk very hard.”

He kissed her head. “We gonna discuss where
we go from here?”

“I have no idea where we go from here.” She
came up on her elbows, draping herself over him. “But let’s not
talk about it now. I just want to enjoy being with you.” Reaching
down, she let her hand float over his ribs, flirt with his stomach,
go lower and brush his groin. He was half aroused already.

He kissed her nose. His face was relaxed, his
shoulders, too. But there was something in his eyes. “So, it’s just
sex?” He meant his tone to be teasing, but Jacelyn heard the
underlying anxiety in it.

“Making love with you was wonderful, Mike.
Special. Different.” She smiled sweetly. “It wasn’t just sex.”

Meeting her forehead with his, he swallowed
hard. “I’m real glad.”

“Me, too.”

Jacelyn and Mike had been back from Cleveland
for three days but hadn’t seen each other, though they’d spoken on
the phone every night. She had, however, spent time with his son.
They always had fun together, like now.

“Okay, Ty, let’s try it again.” Jacelyn reset
the CD and turned to Tyler. His deep-brown eyes reminded her of
warm hot chocolate. “You’re doing great, buddy.”

“Wait till my daddy sees.” He grinned and
placed his little hand in hers. “Rock Around the Clock” blasted
from the stereo. That song was the easiest to swing dance to, so
she’d put it on for Ty when he’d shyly asked her to teach him how
to do that dance like Kyle and she did it.

“Your daddy will be proud, all right.”

They began to jitterbug. Tyler had a sense of
grace and innate rhythm, like his father. Unlike Mike, though, he
picked up the dance moves easily. Enjoying herself, she taught him
to step lightly, sway in to one side, then the next. She showed him
how to turn, do a twirl over his head, slide her arm along his
back. When he got the gist of it, he giggled like the
seven-year-old he was.

“Okay, Champ, time to stop fooling around and
get down to some serious business.” Kyle had come to the door,
smiling at the two of them. “These days Mom’s spending more time
with you than I am.”

Tyler laughed. “You guys are fun.”

“Yeah, well we gotta get going. Kay’s waiting
in the car.”

Jacelyn looked down at the boy. “You sure you
want to do this, Ty?”

“Yes, ma’am. We get to sleep in a tent, build
a camp-fire, and cook marshmallows.” Tyler looked thoughtful. “It’s
okay my daddy couldn’t come.”

The camp Kyle attended in the mornings was
having an overnight for kids and parents; Mike couldn’t go with Ty
because he had practice early the next day and a strategy session
late this afternoon.

Leave the night for me, darlin’,
he’d said sexily when he’d told Jacelyn he wouldn’t be going on the
trip but would finally have an evening free. The summer training
camp lasted only one more week and the players and coaches had a
full schedule. She knew he was running on caffeine and junk
food.

What would she do when the camp was over? By
tacit agreement, they hadn’t talked about that. They also hadn’t
discussed keeping their relationship a secret, though neither had
told the kids. The issue of being seen together hadn’t come up
since there had been no opportunities to go out. They were having
dinner with Millie and Gage Friday night, but no one had talked
about where they were going.

After Kyle and Tyler left, Jacelyn checked
messages on her cell phone. One was from Ed Dickinson; the alumni
president asked for a meeting tomorrow. She called him back and set
up the time with his secretary for afternoon.

The second call was from the registrar at
school. Denise was a friend, and Jacelyn greeted her warmly when
she called back.

“Hi, Jacelyn. I’ve been trying to reach Kyle
about the changes he made in his schedule and can’t get him by
cell.”

“I didn’t know he’d changed his
schedule.”

“Well, he did. But we have no idea to what,
because of a computer glitch. It’s probably just a time switch, of
maybe a different teacher. Have him call me.”

Jacelyn made a notation on the pad by her
phone for Kyle to call the registrar. Ripping off the paper, she
went upstairs to put it on the desk in his room, but stopped in the
doorway. It was a young man’s room, now. She remembered when his
private space had been decorated with action figures—He-Man, Ninja
Turtles and X-Men. For years, the big yellow Wolverine had stared
down at her every time she’d read Kyle a story.

Now, different posters graced the walls.
There was a beautiful Monet landscape he’d gotten at the Louvre
when he’d gone to Paris with the school’s French club. A montage of
various composers hung over his bed. She scanned the other side of
the room. Hmm, when had he put those up? Quotes from famous people.
She crossed to the sayings, scripted in calligraphy of varying
colors.
You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t
take. If you think you can’t, you can’t. You’ve only failed when
you don’t try again.
Nice sentiments, Jacelyn thought. They
were good rules to live by. Interestingly, they were all sports
quotes by famous coaches or athletes. She noted a few more new
things—all of them athletics-oriented. Looked like Mike and the
Bulls were having some effect on Kyle. Well, that was okay with
her. Mike was a good man and a good father.

She set the note down on Kyle’s chunky wooden
desk, by his phone and notepad. Her eyes strayed to the pad. Kyle
made lists. It was an endearing habit, if a bit compulsive.

Call Kay about camp. Buy new book. Ask
Dad?

Schedule—do it now! Get condoms.

Jacelyn’s gaze skidded to a halt on the last
directive. Oh, my. This was something she didn’t know about. Oh,
she realized he was nineteen, but still, the proof that he was
having sex stopped her. Of course, she’d talked to Kyle about sex,
but he didn’t share much with her—not uncommon with teenage boys
and their moms, Millie assured her. She’d promised herself, when
the time came that he was sexually active, she’d be sensible about
it, but now that it was here, her heart was in her mouth.

o0o

In his dorm room, Marcus Stormweather rolled
his eyes. “Jeez, Coach. How can you be such a klutz?”

“Who you callin’ a klutz, Stormweather?”

Marcus glanced at the clock. “We’ve been at
this an hour.”

“But I got it pretty damn good, don’t I?”

“You do passable swing.” Marc scanned Mike’s
white shirt, paisley tie and his Italian suit pants. His suit coat
was in his car. He was taking Jacey out to dinner. And by some
fluke, the kids were gone, too. For the second time in a week, he
had a whole night with her. “Let’s do it one more time.”

As Marc went through the motions with Mike
again, his mind drifted to the night ahead with Jacelyn.

Enjoy it now, buddy. After next week, who
knows what’ll happen.
It wasn’t that they couldn’t work out a
schedule when camp was over. He’d be tied up with the team for five
months of the year, but after that, he’d be free. Besides, he
wasn’t sure he even wanted to stay in football, and was
investigating his options—teaching or perhaps going back to school.
Meanwhile, Tyler needed stability, so they were making a permanent
home in Buckland. Just a hop, skip and a jump from Rockford. No, it
wasn’t time or distance keeping them apart. It was commitment.
They’d both avoided talking about a future together. It was like
players not discussing a winning streak.

“Hell, Coach, concentrate.”

He did. Step, step. Twist. Turn. Damn it, he
tripped over his feet. Suddenly he heard chuckles and felt the heat
of a light. He turned to see a video camera taping all of his
pitiful attempts to jitterbug.

“I hope that ain’t got no film in it,” he
said to Nick Santini and the other receivers with him. “I might
just have to kill you.”

Santini laughed. “She must be something,
Coach, for you to be embarrassing yourself so bad.”

He couldn’t help but grin. She
was
something. She was worth this and a hell of a lot more.

When Jacelyn opened the door to him an hour
later that thought came back even stronger. It was a warm night,
and she had dressed for it. She wore some kind of
overlapping-in-the-front gauzy material in deep swirly shades of
blue and pink, reminding him of cotton candy. It had tiny little
straps and one of those plunging necklines that revealed just the
right amount of skin, cupped her breasts, nipped in at the waist
and ended midcalf. On her feet were high-heeled sandals. Her
toenails were painted a deep red.

“Well now, darlin’, if you aren’t the
prettiest thing.”

“You clean up good yourself, Coach.”

Mike kissed her on the cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Got your bag ready?”

“Yes.” She picked up a flowered case on the
floor next to her. “But where are we going?”

“Not too far. I have to be back for practice
by nine tomorrow morning.” He took the small suitcase as she locked
up. “There’s a great Italian restaurant this side of Buckland. It’s
private and out of the way and the owners there know how to cover
for famous people.” He leaned in closer. “It’s got a small inn
attached, about ten rooms. We got a nice one for the night.”

“They cover for famous people? Like you?”

“Well, I get hounded some in Buckland.
Anyway, they also got a band and a dance floor.”

“I thought you couldn’t dance.”

“I can find my way around a waltz. And that
means I get to hold you in that dress.” They’d reached the Ferrari.
From behind, he whispered in her ear, “‘Cause as soon as we get to
our cozy little room on the third floor, I’m gonna have it off you,
sweetheart.”

“Hmm, I can’t wait.” She leaned back into
him. “It’s been too long.”

“Way too long.”

o0o

The little inn nestled on the Niagara River
had a picturesque view from the table by the window where Jacelyn
and Mike sat. The smoky gray sky was twinkling with stars and
reminded her of Mike’s eyes. Jacelyn stared over at him; he was
dressed in a meticulous suit and snowy-white shirt that set off the
tan he’d gotten at camp. He was one of the most masculine men that
she’d ever known. And for a while, he was hers. A sinking sensation
in her stomach told her that the
for a while
was beginning
to be a problem. They’d gone back on their promises to stay away
from each other and now they’d have to pay the consequences.

“What’s wrong, Jacey?”

“Wrong?”

Reaching over, he smoothed the frown from her
forehead. “I hate seeing those furrows here. Are you worried about
something?”

“Who could be worried in a gorgeous place
like this?” She nodded to the front of the dining room. “And he’s
great.”

The saxophone filled the air with songs so
sweet they brought tears to Jacelyn’s eyes. With a piano and guitar
backup, the little Italian musician played continuously throughout
their drinks. Right now, he was doing some mean jazz. “Makes me
want to dance.”

“Hmm.” He looked up. “Here’s our meal.”

“Signore Kingston, gnocchi for you. Signora,
you will like Pino’s scampi. Mange!”

“I’m sure I will, Mrs. Sapori.”

“Call me Concetto.” The older woman grinned
at Mike. “You make my Michael happy.”

“Yes, Concetto, she does.”

After the wine was served, they dug in. Mike
offered her some gnocchi from his own fork and sneaked some of her
succulent shrimp. They clinked glasses and toasted, taking every
opportunity to touch.

Before ordering coffee and dessert, Mike
pushed back his chair. The sax player had taken a break and the
band was playing some neat swing music. “All right, let’s get this
over with.”

“Over with?”

“Yeah, come on.” He led her to the dance
floor. Took her in his arms. “You’re gonna have to help me out
here.”

“Mike, you don’t know how to swing.”

“Yeah, I do. Sort of.”

She was laughing as he did a pretty passable
jitterbug. He tripped over his feet a couple of times, then over
hers, but he did it.

As a slow song began, he pulled her into his
arms. “Now this is more my style.” Mike held her close. She could
hear the steady thump of his heart and feel his muscles through his
suit and smell his aftershave.

“Where did you...how did you learn that?”
Jacelyn asked.

“The guys taught me.”

“The guys, as in football players?”

“Uh-huh. It was quite a sight, I’ll tell
you.”

“I’d have loved to see it.”

“They took videos. Gonna use them for
blackmail would be my guess.”

“I can’t believe you did that for me.”

He tugged her closer. Buried his face in her
hair. “Believe it.”

Over espresso, they were holding hands across
the white linen when the saxophone player approached them. “For the
signora,”
he said. Then he proceeded to belt out a smooth
version of “Misty.” Jacelyn had always thought the Johnny Mathis
classic was one of the most romantic songs ever written.

When it was over, Mike nodded to the sax
player.
“Bene, bene, Giuseppe.”