Wicked Game (14 page)

“Hey, Pepper. I like your shirt.” He grinned at her, his eyes going pointedly to the logo displayed prominently over her breasts that read
Property number 4 Miami Football
. She’d borrowed one of his team shirts with his name on the back. No wonder that detective kept looking at her funny. “I believe that falls under the heading of ironic. What do you think?”

He left her standing there with her mouth open. He knew the scathing retort would probably be more like a shoe flung at his head. Retreat for now was the best course. This would pass, and Cass would have a nice week with her mom, and everything would be all right. This was his year. Everything was going according to plan.

Chapter Fifteen

“Things obviously aren’t going according to plan,” Cass’s mom Gloria said when Jaime threw his helmet across the field. Rage reflected in his face, eyes—hell, in his whole body. He got into a team member’s face screaming what looked like obscenities and threats. That same team member had just dropped a perfectly thrown ball in the end zone. “Looks like that’s the game, sweetie. Jaime had a bad day. The team had a bad day. It’s just the first preseason game, no worries.”

“He looks so angry out there.” Cass couldn’t take her eyes off him, the black smudges on his cheeks brought out the fire in his amber eyes. Sweat coated his body, dripping into his eyes. Minnesota was in the middle of a freak heat wave apparently. He was like an animal, predatory, calculating, and ruthless. The way he moved simply amazed her; at one point he jumped over a guy running headlong at him before he threw the ball. “So…”

“Masculine. The boy grew into one fine specimen of a man, Cass. Tight in all the right places, if you know what I mean.”

“Mom! I am shocked. Shocked.” And embarrassed to know just how tight some of those places really were, but she wasn’t about to tell her mother that.

“So I’m just a mangy old cougar. Live with it. While we’re talking about tight, why are you really home? Don’t lie to me, Cassandra. What’s going on between you and Jaime?”

“Nothing. I can’t come home for a vacation?”

“Cut the crap. You’re sleeping with him. I can see that much, and that alone is probably enough to send you running for the hills.”

“I am not sleeping with Jaime Dalton.” She hesitated too long before protesting. Her mother raised her eyebrows in that frustrating look she always wore when Cass was trying to talk her way out of whatever trouble she was in growing up.

“Bullshit, you have that well-laid glow about you. About time, too. I knew if the two of you could stop bickering long enough you’d figure it out.”

“I am not sleeping with him. And what makes you think we’ve done anything but bicker and fight. Jaime still is and has always been a huge prick.”

“Yeah, and I bet he has one too. Just look at that boy’s hands.”

“Mother! We are not having this conversation. Not today, not ever.”

“Okay, have it your way, Cass. Hide out as long as you need. Just remember you dragged in here after midnight last night with no warning. So don’t expect me to hang around to be your shoulder. I’ve got plans.” Gloria patted her on her leg and left her sitting in the living room watching the tail end of her very first football game. Miami had just lost twenty-four to ten.

She sat through the post-game interviews, where a sweaty, agitated Jaime evaded questions about his performance, praised his teammates and the other team, and promised a better showing the following week back home in Miami. She saw past the forced bravado into his eyes. She knew that look well. He was on edge, stressed to the point of breaking. Guilt washed over her. Maybe if she had gone with him…

No, this was not her fault. Whoever was stalking him was solely at fault. If that day on the patio had never happened or that night in New York, she couldn’t help rationalizing, there would be no dirty pictures. She would still be in Miami waiting for him to come home instead of hiding out in her mother’s living room.

“Shit.” She switched off the TV, angry with herself for letting any of this happen in the first place. Sex with Jaime was her mistake. One she wouldn’t make again, if she went back.

After dinner, her mom called out for her not to wait up and left Cass with the dishes. She had the Cooking Channel on watching Giada cook something that looked sinfully simple but she knew it wouldn’t be, when her phone rang. She knew that ring, not that she had a special tone set just for him, but somehow it just rang differently when he called. She let it ring a few times as she wiped the table and put away the casserole pan before she answered it.

“Tough game.” She said even though she promised herself to stay neutral and keep it short and sweet.

“It shouldn’t have been. I was off, and it affected the guys. Should have been an easy win.” Just the sound of his voice made her tingle all over. “So how is your mom? Tell her hey for me.”

“She’s out somewhere having a life.” She settled onto the sectional sofa and turned the TV to mute. “Where are you?”

“In a hotel, waiting for dinner, thinking about going down to the hot tub. I’ve got bruises on top of bruises.” She heard him grunt as he moved around on his end.

“I feel for you. I really do. Okay, I don’t. You do know those bruises are avoidable, right?”

“Sure, I didn’t have to play ball. I could have gone on to medical school or law school. Don’t snort, Miss Summa Cum Laude. I do have a brain in my head.”

“Not for too much longer if you keep getting knocked upside it like that.” She cringed, thinking about the headlong charges he’d endured during the course of the game. Many of which she’d covered her eyes during out of fear.

“True, that. Hey, what are you doing right now?”

“Sitting on the couch, talking to you and watching TV on mute.”

“Yeah, anything good on?”

“Not particularly. It’s a Saturday night, nothing but reruns of reruns. Ooh look, a Scooby Doo movie that ought to be right up your alley.”

“Mmm, Daphne. She was hot.”

“Daphne was a bimbo. Velma, now there was a woman. She rocked that orange miniskirt and had brains.”

“Yeah, but Velma was blind as a bat. She did have some major tits under that sweater, so I could see it. You know, I always wondered what Fred and Daphne did when they split off from the group.”

“Really? I always wondered what Fred, Daphne,
and
Velma did when they sent Shag and Scooby off on their own.”

He laughed; the sound low and sensuous vibrated over the line. “That’s because you are a bit on the twisted side. I like that about you, Pepper.”

“And you’re not the slightest bit twisted? Come on. You let guys beat you up for a living. That, Mr. Dalton, is beyond twisted. It’s messed up.”

“Hey, got to pay for the lifestyle somehow.”

“What lifestyle? You pretend to have a lifestyle but, from what I can tell, Mr. Dalton, you are tight-fisted with your money. Yeah, you have a nice house almost on the water, and a couple of cars, one of which is a station wagon, I might add.”

“Hey, you’re the one who picked out that wagon. I was thinking more of a second sports car. Besides, I keep you in designer duds, don’t I?” He didn’t sound the least bit offended.

“If by designer, you mean that discount stuff I picked up at Target and Kohl’s, then okay, sure. You do know most of that furniture I bought for your house came from Rooms To Go and IKEA, right? Hardly high end.”

“So, it looks nice. Did I tell you, that I like the old stuff you redid better than the fancy furniture the designer bought three years ago?”

“No, you didn’t tell me. Even the console I painted turquoise?”

“It looks nice in the dining room. When are we going to get a table in there anyway?”

“Why? You never have people over, and you eat standing over the sink.”

“I can think of a couple of things to do on that table other than eat.”

“I am not having that conversation with you. Not tonight. So, when will you be home?”

“Tomorrow afternoon sometime.” He sounded disappointed, but she wasn’t ready to go down that path, innocent or not. “When are you planning on coming home?”

“I just got here, jeez, I haven’t even unpacked yet.”

“That just makes coming home easier.”

“Yeah, well, I think I’m going to hang out here a while. Visit some friends, stuff like that.”

“Okay, sounds like a good plan. Go say hi to my mom, will you?”

“Sure. Hey, Jaime?”

“Yeah?”

“You sound tired. Did you sleep last night?”

“Not really, that’s why I played like shit today, I guess. Hey, Pepper?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitated, his breath heavy on the line. “Food is here, I’m going to go eat now.”

“Yeah, and get some sleep.”

“You, too. Okay, so yeah, um, good night.”

“You, too, Jaime.” Then he was gone. Deflated and oddly agitated, she thought he was about to say something else. Like, maybe, that he missed her.

But why would Jaime Dalton miss her? She turned off the television. Her own sleepless night finally caught up with her and went to bed.

During the day, Cass was fine. She put on her happiest face and went out with old friends. She even managed to drop by and visit with Jaime’s mom, who was incredibly happy to see her. At night, she couldn’t stop the demons from settling in to roost.

Most of her friends were settled in one way or another—marriage or career. Heck, two of the girls she went to high school with were not only married and teaching at the same school she’d been laid off from, they were expecting babies now as well.

Cass was far from settled. If she hadn’t gotten off course and wasted two years in Nashville, if she’d chosen a different major, if she hadn’t run out of money before she finished her doctorate. Too many ifs swirled in her head. That left her agitated and unsatisfied.

During the day, she pretended she wasn’t scared to death. She checked the internet gossip sites daily. She knew she was waiting for a reason not to go back. Day after day, there was nothing. Not one single mention of Jaime’s name, except by football analysts who raked him across the coals for his performance the previous weekend. Clips of him working hard in the Miami sun, dressed in shorts, T-shirt, and helmet. Sometimes the shirt was totally missing, sometimes the helmet. She particularly loved that one shot of him wearing just a pair of sweaty running shorts, his skin golden and glistening with sweat as he leaned his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.

Every night she waited for his call. Every night she sat in the living room alone, wondering why he never said he missed her.

On Saturday, Cass roamed the house, bored out of her mind. The sun was shining outside, the world was spinning around, yet she turned down three invitations for shopping, spa, or just hanging out at a friend’s pool to stay home and be irritated and edgy.

She paced the house, which didn’t take long. Two bedrooms, two baths connected to a living-dining-kitchen combo with a large back porch and a garage. Hardly large enough for just her mom, yet she’d grown up in this house and the walls suddenly seemed to want to reach out and suffocate her. Her room was tiny, the wallpaper faded and juvenile. This wasn’t home anymore.

To take her mind off her plight she found herself in the living room, remote in hand. She tuned to the football channel just in time for the start of the pregame. Jaime in shoulder pads stood on the sidelines wearing a baseball cap. He looked rested and relaxed. For some reason, she felt the tension ease from her body as she watched him smile and goof off with the other guys. Now this was the Jaime she knew and…

The phone rang, and thinking it was her mom calling to check in, she answered without looking at the screen. She could see Jaime holding a phone to his ear take a seat on a bench, but even then she didn’t think much of it until he spoke in that deep rumble that was his voice. Just like that, her stomach did this wild dance that sent warmth trailing to every square inch of her body.

“Hey, Pepper. What are you doing?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” She saw his lips hitch into a grin. “Stop grinning like that. People might think you’re mad.”

“How do you know I’m smiling?” He looked up his eyes staring directly into the camera. “Am I on TV?”

“Yeah, pretty boy. I’m sitting here watching you goof off. The announcers are wondering who you’re talking to that makes you smile like that. Cut it out, it’s embarrassing.”

He laughed and raised his arm in the air and waved as he shouted, “Hi, Mom!”

“I’m not your mom, dufus. So why are you calling me. Aren’t you supposed to be on the field doing footbally stuff?’

“I’ve got a little time. I thought I’d check in and see what you’re up to. Say ‘hi’ to your mom.” The camera panned away from him to cover the rest of his team who all seemed to be milling around the sidelines. The announcers, though, were still talking about Jaime’s shout-out to his mom.

“She went with the Red Hats over to Tunica early this morning. I think my mom has developed a gambling problem since her trip to Vegas.”

“Yeah, so you’re alone, then?”

“No, smartass. I’m sitting with the pool boy. We’re getting ready to go skinny-dipping.”

“Lucky pool boy. Does he know you like to be tied up?”

“Jaime, don’t start that.”

“Pepper, I love when you get all defensive like that. Makes me think of bad things to do to you.”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“Don’t you want to know what kind of bad things?”

“I know your idea of bad. You like to dominate me.”

“And you like it. Come on, Pepper, you like when I make suggestions. You can’t help that it turns you on.”

“You are out of your tiny little mind.”

He laughed again, the sound sending jolts of electricity through her body. “Hey, Pepper, what are you wearing?”

“None of your business. God, don’t look like that.”

“Like what? Is the camera back on me?”

“Like you do when, oh, never mind. Yes, the camera is watching you again, and I can read your lips.”

“Really, what color are your panties?” He ducked his head, pulling the brim of his cap low to cover his face. “Are they pink? I love those pink lace panties that cup your ass and…”