Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (6 page)

Jumping out of the car, he managed to get to
the passenger door just as she reached it. “Hey, Darcie,” he
murmured, trying to ignore the artificial but riveting—not to
mention huge—emerald gaze. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“It’s for a good cause,” she assured him
with a teasing smile.

“Pardon?”

“My football lessons.”

He couldn’t help laughing at that. Typical
smart attorney, planning her moves in advance, hoping to outsmart
the opponent. Too bad
her
opponent was a master at that same
skill.

When he opened the door, she slipped right
past him, settled into the leather seat, and eyed him expectantly.
“We’re late, Wyatt.”

“You’re hilarious,” he assured her. But he
closed the door gently, then hurried back to his own seat,
frustrated that he had somehow been played.

As he started the engine, he couldn’t resist
saying, “You actually expected me to come to the door?”

She rolled her eyes. “When it comes to you,
I have low expectations.”

“Good.”

He kept his gaze on the road, imagining that
she wanted him to say more. To step into some kind of trap. So he
congratulated himself for fixing the temporary power imbalance,
then headed out to the highway.

• • •

It had been a long time since some loser
dared honk from the curb and expect Darcie to come running. In her
high school days, her dad would have put a stop to it. In college
and thereafter, guys had fallen all over themselves to open the car
door for her on the first date thanks to her eye-catching
bustline.

Settling back in her seat, she gave Wyatt a
sideways glance, eyeing his long, lean muscles, made even more
obvious this time because he wore tan cargo shorts, a black polo,
and running shoes.

Yum
.

He broke the silence with another attempt at
humor. “That’s a pretty big purse for a six-hour date.”

She hefted her canvas tote from the floor to
her lap. “I brought heels, just in case His Highness wanted me
taller.”

“Those shoes are fine. What else?”

“The pièce de résistance,” she assured him,
pulling the gift bag into view, then displaying its contents.
“Isn’t this pretty? It’s a wedding cake
and
a music box. Do
you want me to play the song?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Your gift card will fit right inside.
Problem solved.”

To her surprise, he actually looked annoyed.
Maybe even angry. “I told you, I took care of the gift.”

“A gift card is too impersonal, Wyatt.
Especially for such an important event.”

“I appreciate the thought. But I always give
the Bournes gift cards. It’s a tradition. So no, thanks.”

She stared at him, honestly confused.
“You’ll still be giving them the card, you know. Just smooshed
inside the pretty cake.”

“Is this going to be an issue?”

His grouchy tone made her laugh. “Be
serious, Wyatt. This reflects on me too.”

“How?”

“As your fake date, I’ll be judged by the
caliber of your gift. By yourself, you can get away with cash. The
bumbling, well-meaning, clueless nephew. But me? I need to show up
with something better. It’s sexist as hell, but there it is.”

He was clearly trying not to smile. “Feel
free to give them the musical cake yourself. You’ll be the hit of
the party. You probably will be anyway.”

Just drop it, Darcie. You’re getting on
his nerves and you’ve got eighty-nine more minutes of drive
time
.

Thus subdued, she rummaged in her tote for
her sunglasses.

“Let me guess,” he drawled unexpectedly. “As
my attorney, you’re advising me to use the cake box?”

She nodded, unsure whether he was teasing or
actually mocking her in some incomprehensible way.

“Fine. I’ll use it. Any other demands?”

“No, that was it.” She studied him
curiously. “What are you going to tell them? About me, I mean. Have
we been dating for a while? Is it serious? Should we hold hands or
anything?”

“Let’s say we met on a plane yesterday, hit
it off, and I asked you out,” he said, adding helpfully, “I like to
stick as close to the truth as possible.”

For reasons that made no sense, the
suggestion stung. Probably because in her mind, they
had
met
on a plane,
had
hit it off and he
had
asked her out.
Maybe not in the romantic sense, but still—did it really seem so
far from the truth to him?

Her silence must have made him uncomfortable
because he asked warily, “What’s wrong now?”

She sighed. “I need some background on your
family. Who’s going to be there? If we really did meet on a plane
and hit it off, and you really
did
ask me out, you’d tell me
that sort of thing, right?”

“Good point,” he said, seeming relieved.
“Like I said, the party is for my great-aunt and -uncle. Beatrice
and Tony. But they’re more like grandparents to me because my dad’s
parents were killed in a car wreck when he was just a kid, so Tony
and Bea took over.”

The affection in his tone mollified her.
“That’s so sweet. Will your father be there?”

“No, he was killed in Afghanistan.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a while.” He cleared his throat.
“Anyway, my dad—Matthew Bourne—was an only child. Tony and Bea had
three kids, all girls. So Dad was like a surrogate son to Tony in
every way. You’ll meet their three daughters and two of their
husbands. The other one’s divorced. There are a lot of cousins, and
cousins having babies, so we’re probably talking twenty-five or
more people. They’ll mob you,” he added sternly. “So be ready.”

“I’ve got my crucifix,” she assured him, and
when he laughed, she relaxed again.

“There’s something else you should know. My
great-uncle—we all just call him Tony—has dementia. He was always a
calm guy. Very mellow. So it’s more like he’s just fading away.
It’s tragic for all of us because—well, he was always there. Strong
in his own way. We came and went, but Tony was a rock.”

“Oh, Wyatt.”

“Bea—his wife—is just the opposite. Sharp as
a tack at eighty-nine. You’ll like her.”

“I’m sure.” She wanted to ask if his mom
would be at the party, but deep inside, she knew the answer to
that. He would have mentioned her first, wouldn’t he?

“It must have been nice growing up around so
many cousins and aunt and uncles.”

“I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “My dad
was raised here, and he met my mom at UCLA. But she was from
Jersey, and got homesick. So they moved back there soon after I was
born.”

“Got it.”

They rode in silence for a while, then he
admitted, “You probably need to know a few other things. Otherwise
you’ll get my Aunt Jenn’s version, and it’s inaccurate.”

“I won’t trust a word out of her mouth, I
promise.”

He flashed a wry smile. “My parents got
divorced when I was four. He probably should have moved back here
to be close to the people who loved him but he stuck around. For
me. When I was nine, he enlisted in the Army, which made a weird
sort of sense since he always planned on doing that. But he got
distracted. First by performing well as a QB at the college level,
and then when he married my mother.”

“What’s your aunt’s version?”

He didn’t answer right away, and looked
vaguely annoyed, so she almost withdrew the question. Then he said,
“She hates my mother. And believe me, it’s mutual. She thinks Mom
lured Dad to New Jersey then broke his heart by sleeping with some
other guy. Drove him into the service. And then got him killed.
They all loved my dad,” he added, his tone wistful. “He was a great
guy.”

Darcie turned her face away, embarrassed by
the tears in her eyes. It wasn’t really the story so much as the
way Wyatt told it, so matter-of-fact yet also filled with pain.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him and
tell him it was okay. Of course, she had wanted to wrap herself
around him for a while now and it had nothing to do with comfort.
There was something so wildly sexy about him, even at times like
this. Even when he was teasing her. Or silent. Or borderline
rude.

“Your turn,” he said unexpectedly. “Patrick
Murphy married your brother-in-law’s cousin? It took me six hours
and an expensive app to figure that one out.”

She smiled at the attempt at humor. “I
should have said he’s married to my best friend. Because that’s
true too.” She snuggled back into her seat, glad for the lighter
topic. “My sister is eight years older than me. She got married at
twenty-two, meaning I was fourteen. So they forced me to be one of
the bridesmaids and wear a hideous dress. Her fiancé Kevin—my
future brother-in-law—had a cousin named Emily who was seventeen.
Also forced to be a bridesmaid. She lived in Quebec, but traveled
to our house in Ohio and stayed for a week before the wedding to
help out. My sister ran us ragged with chores, but we had so much
fun. My whole family adored her to death, and she and I became
besties. She went to college the next year and met Murf, who was
just finishing up law school. He worshipped the ground she walked
on right from the start, so of course, we adored him, too.”

“Ohio?”

“Is that going to be an issue?”

He laughed. “You’re quick, I’ll give you
that.”

“Thanks,” she drawled. “Anyway, they were
both at UCLA, and so I went to school there too. Em went to law
school and became a tax attorney, but she barely gets a chance to
practice because he keeps knocking her up. They’re the most
adorable couple ever,” she added fondly.

“And he put you through law school?
Why?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Because he saw great
promise in me. And he’d do anything to please Emily. And I was
accepted at Cal
and
Stanford and he forced me to choose
Stanford, so he basically paid the difference.”

“That makes sense.” He eyed her curiously.
“Did he make Emily go to Stanford too?”

“He doesn’t make Em do anything. She’s got
him wrapped around her little finger. That’s why it’s so hilarious
to see him as a power broker in the outside world. Oh!” She winced.
“You’re not going to use this against him somehow, are you?”

“Why would I do that?
How
would I do
that?” He scowled. “It doesn’t even make sense.”

“You’re right. It was a ridiculous thing to
say. I’m sorry.”

Wyatt’s jaw unclenched. “I see it all the
time, you know. A competent guy reduced to drooling around some
pretty girl. It happens to NFL players more than anyone because we
get a lot of money and fame when we’re too young to handle it.”

She closed her eyes and forced herself to
take a few deep breaths. This guy was a case study in something or
other. She just wasn’t sure what. Either he was generally
suspicious of everyone, or just women and lawyers.

“So?” he asked after a couple of minutes of
silence. “Are we playing that travel game again?”

“It might be best,” she agreed.

They were still on the freeway, which
bothered her for a Sunday drive, especially since she had heard it
was pretty up around Bell Canyon. But so far? Boring as hell.

You’re just pissed because he made that
crack about Emily and Murf. Like she was just some quote-unquote
pretty girl who lured him into a sex coma
.

Out of the blue, he started talking again,
as though nothing had happened. “So? What’s with you and the
Lancers?”

“You mean the Triple Threat?”

“I don’t call them that,” he assured her.
“They’re amazing players, I’ll grant you that. And two of them are
Patrick Murphy clients, correct? Spurling and Decker?”

“And as of tomorrow, we’ll have Bam
Bannerman. He’s signing with
me,”
she added proudly, then
she winced at the haughty tone.

“That’s quite a coup. Have you known him
long?”

“No.” She gave him a sheepish glance. “He
knows I’ll be practicing on him, but as long as Murf’s looking over
my shoulder, he’s willing to be a sport.”

“They were all over you last night.”

She rolled her eyes. “I danced with them. It
was fun. But they’re all spoken for, in case you didn’t know.
Johnny’s married, Bam’s engaged, and Sean is in a serious
relationship.”

He gave her a surprised look. “Are you
saying Bannerman’s engaged to the blonde he was with? She’s
beautiful. Stunning actually.”

Luckily, Darcie thought so too, so she just
nodded.

“And John’s wife is beautiful too,” he
continued admiringly. “But in her case, she’s
exactly
the
type I’d picture him with.” He gave her a teasing look. “The only
woman I saw with Decker was you.
Also
good-looking,
obviously.”

“His girlfriend couldn’t make it, but trust
me, he’s crazy about her. There’s nothing romantic between us.”

To her surprise, it was true. Somewhere
between yesterday and today, her crush had dissolved
completely.

Probably because you’re so hot for Wyatt,
and he’s the exact opposite of Sean
.

She wasn’t sure which was better—having
feelings for a guy who was in love with someone else, or for a guy
who was in love with himself.

“Are you going to share the joke?” Wyatt
asked.

“Was I smiling?” She laughed at herself. “I
was just thinking about our football lessons. I asked Bam first,
you know. But I’m not sure his information was accurate.”

“He knows the game inside and out,
Darcie.”

With as straight a face as she could manage,
she told him about the throwbacks and the kickbacks. To her relief,
he burst out laughing, just like any normal guy would.

“That’s classic,” he insisted, still
grinning. “At least you caught on quick.”

“I fell for the double-backs though.”

Wyatt chuckled again. “You need to read the
book I sent you.”

“I’ve been reading the CBA instead. I’m
pretty sure that’s how I’ll really build my football smarts.”