Wicked Game (16 page)

“Jaime you need a bigger car so we can make out in parking lots.”

“You are mouthy when you’re horny.”

“I’m mouthy all the time.”

“Just get in the car. The faster we get home, the faster I can give you a proper welcome.”

“Promise.”

“Note to Pepper. Lay off the champagne or walk around naked. It’s your only choice from now on.”

“Bite me, Jaime. Oh wait, you usually do.”

“Just get in the damned car or I am going to snag your panties and do you right here against the car in broad daylight. Do you want that?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Pepper, you are killing me.”

“So you keep telling me.”

Chapter Seventeen

For the next three weeks, Cass was on top of the world. That day after her vacation, they didn’t make it past the stairs before he had her naked and crying out his name. Jaime had all but moved into her room. The nights he didn’t sleep with her were the nights he was away.

The first part of the week after training camp was over, Jaime stayed home. Needless to say, very little work got done on those two or three days. She stopped bothering with clothes at all. One of his loose T-shirts proclaiming her his property was all she needed those days.

The latter part of the week, he was gone more than he was home. Two more Saturday games took him out of town for most of the weekend. In those weeks, she finally found a dining room table. True to Jaime’s prediction, there was something else to use one for besides dining. Unless of course, he considered her to be the main course. Sometimes she wondered if he did.

There were no more packages, no threatening letters, and after a second visit from a forensics team, no police questions. Just her, him, and sexual debauchery. She’d even gotten used to calling him Lord Ironman when it suited her purposes.

Then the regular season reared its ugly head. Jaime got her passes for the first game Sunday night against the Packers. That she was nervous about actually going to the game was an understatement. She had never been to a football game in her life, not even in high school. After she asked him what to wear for the tenth time, he took her up to bed, stripped her naked, and made her forget such a thing as football even existed. When he finally untied her from the headboard, he had an entire outfit laid out.

A pair of low-waisted jeans and a skintight Miami T-shirt that he’d picked up from the team store that week. “No panties. I want to know you’re sitting up there in the stands commando.”

“Well, for fuck’s sake, Jaime, why don’t I just go naked?”

“That’s a great idea. But you’re too chickenshit to show your goodies to the world.”

“Why do I have this incredible urge to murder you?”

“Again? Baby, you really do need to get these violent tendencies under control.”

“Oh, go jump off the balcony or something.”

“Can’t I help you dress?”

“God, Jaime, it takes too long to get dressed when you help. Don’t you have somewhere to be this afternoon?”

“You do have a point. Okay, so I’m going to go down to the kitchen and find something to eat while you get dressed. And Pepper, if you have to wear panties, at least wear the aqua ones.”

“How about the coral ones, combination of pink and team pride?”

“Baby, I like the way you think.” He kissed her on the small of her back and walked out of the room, his clothes still lying in a heap on the floor beside her bed. Their bed.

She lay there shivering despite the warm noonday sun streaming in through the windows. Somehow over the past few weeks, this had become their room and she’d been too busy loving the things he did to her to notice something as monumental as two lives entwining to become one.

She wasn’t a fool. Jaime still kept his things in his own room. His life was still his own. It was her life that had become his. She belonged to him in body and soul while he was still a free agent who wasn’t about to turn down free sex.

God damn him and the horse he rode in on.

Several hours after he left to go psych himself up to whip some Packer ass, Cass stepped out of the limo he’d arranged to take her to the stadium. Cameras flashed around her; the scene was rowdy, electric, but security hustled her past all of that and into the stadium leading her to a boxed area very close to the field.

The section seemed to be solely populated by women and children with a sprinkling of some older couples. She looked them over in much the same way they looked her over. Open curiosity, and on her part, terror at being under such close scrutiny. “Who’s your player, hon?” An older woman stepped out of the seats holding out her hand. “You look brand-new and scared to death. Which one of the rookies are you here to cheer on?”

“Uh, number four, but I don’t think he’s a rookie,” Cass stammered; she really was out of her comfort zone here.

“You’re Jay’s guest. Well, hon, how about that. Sometimes, Miz Dalton comes to watch him play, and well, there was that one…”

Another woman came to her rescue. The resemblance to the first one was remarkable in that they both had white blonde hair styled high and sprayed to form a sort of helmet of curls. With the same drawling accent they could have been twins except for the age difference. “Taylor, gawd, there is no need to bore her to death. Come on in, sweetie. I’m Trish and this is my bestie, Taylor. We’re from Dallas, not like you couldn’t tell. Come sit with us. Tell us all about you and how you know Jay.”

“Well.” How much did she need to tell them? The better question would be how much did Jaime want her to tell them? “I’m Pep—I’m Cass Pendleton, I’m Jay’s … y’all call him Jay?”

“Yeah, honey, Jay, short for Jamison. What do you call him?” Trish asked; at least Cass thought it was Trish.

“Mr. Pendleton.”

“Well, don’t that just beat all?” Taylor’s light brown eyes turned up in a wicked grin. “I sometimes call my Tater down there Mr. Sandborne, too. Come on, honey, what do you really call him when he’s pissed you off?”

“Besides jerk, I call him Jaime. But you have it all wrong, I am not—” Yes, she was. Lord, how did one go about denying that a non-existent relationship existed without looking like a fool? “I work for Jaime, that’s all. Sort of like a Girl Friday.”

“Uh-huh, hon. Most of us worked for our man in one form or another too. So come on, sit down. It’s a long time until kickoff, and we want to get to know all about you.”

Shit, Cass was afraid Taylor was going to say something like that. “Well, what do you want to know?” Ooh, really bad mistake.

The section began to fill up as game time neared. Cass found herself surrounded by curious women, all of them wanting to know everything about her and how she met Jay. She told them as close to the truth as she was willing to tell. She grew up in the same small Alabama city Jaime did, and that he found her through a temp agency in the spring. That they were friends and nothing more.

Of course, the little knowing looks were passed from one to the other with coos of yeah, um-hm, just friends, smirk, smirk, wink, wink. A guy with a tray of beer walked by and Cass snagged one. Never mind that she hated beer or that she really never could handle her alcohol; the stress of being in the crosshairs was more than she could stand sober.

Just as she was about to take her first drink, her phone rang. She knew it was him without looking at the phone. He sat on a bench not far from her, hunched over. “Hey, where are you?” he said, his voice low and husky.

“Turn around and look up.” He stood up, turning until he was facing her. He smiled, looked at the curious faces surrounding her, and quickly sat back down.

“So you go by Jay, now?”

“How much have they told you? Better yet, how much have you told them? Okay, I don’t want to know. So, are you wearing panties?”

“You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“Come on, Pepper. Don’t be mean.”

“Hey, I’m sitting up here surrounded by all these women listening intently to this conversation. I’d love to chat with you, but I don’t think … oh shit.” She saw herself on the scoreboard. “Why am I on that screen?”

Jaime looked up, saw her just before it cut to him. “They’re just speculating. You’re on the phone, I’m on the phone, and I just stood up and looked for you.”

“You know, now may not be the time to discuss this, but we might need to define this thing between us sooner or later. Eww, that’s nasty.”

“What’s nasty?” His sat up straight, looking around as if something had happened that he couldn’t see.

“This beer, it’s awful.”

“Why are you drinking beer, Pepper? You hate beer.”

“I know. I’m just sort of hoping to get buzzed, so I get through this without puking.”

He laughed. “Booze makes you horny, Pepper. Are you going to be ready for me when this is all over? I’ll find us a place somewhere nice and quiet where I can find out if you’re wearing panties.”

“You know there is a boatload of good-looking men sitting around me. What if I decided I like one of them better than you?”

“Damn, Pepper, you’re wicked. Pick one out, bring him home. Just promise me I can watch, okay?”

“Jaime, Christ, stop laughing, we are not having … we aren’t even talking about that. I do have some scruples.”

“I don’t.”

“So I understand. Really, you’d watch me with another guy?”

He didn’t answer. She could see his back go rigid, then he stood up and faced her. There was no laughter in his eyes that she could see. “No. I’d kill anyone who touched you.”

He was dead serious. She could see it all over his body. Heat washed though her body; a lump formed in her throat. “I’m not wearing panties.”

He smiled then and pointed to her. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, but she read his lips. “Oh, hey, got to go. Don’t get drunk, Pepper. I like you sober when I molest you.”

“As you command, Lord Ironman.”

“Damn straight.” He hung up, winked up at her, grabbed his helmet, and went to work.

“Well, I guess that mystery is solved.” Taylor leaned in close, her eyes narrow slits. “Don’t worry, honey. When this is over, we’ll get you out of here before the press finds you.”

“What? Why would the…” Cass followed Taylor’s pointed finger to the scoreboard that was just now replaying Jaime’s point and his mouthed words, “That’s my girl,” and her blushing reaction. “Oh shit.”

* * * *

“Oh shit!” Cass cringed with each hit, the sound almost like two cars colliding. Jaime took his fair share, but the players around him protected him for the most part. Still, even when it wasn’t Jaime, the sound of plastic hitting plastic was enough to make the mostly forgotten beer come back up.

The air was charged as the men roared and shouted and cussed and cheered from the sidelines. The crowd was even louder than they were. Bodies flew into the air, only to get up and run away with huge grins on their faces. The women around her screamed, cussed, and promised to kill whoever had just tossed their beloved into the air. All Cass could do was hold on to her seat every time Jaime was the body flung about as if he were little more than a rag doll.

She relaxed some during halftime, finding the stomach to grab a burger and a Coke from concessions.

“You haven’t been to too many games have you, hon?” Trish, the other half of the Texas twosome, cornered her in the restroom.

“This is my first. Is it that obvious?”

“Sort of. Look, hon, I’m not going to lie to you. It’s tough watching them take the hits, but after a while you’ll get used to it. They train for this, and the equipment is state of the art, you know.”

“But it’s so brutal.”

“Sure, it’s brutal; that’s why it’s fun to watch. Come on, hon, you’re doing great, one more half to go.”

“Out of how many more games?”

Trish just laughed and patted her on her back. “By the end of the season you’ll be immune, you’ll see. Let’s head back. The third quarter is about to start.”

The game slowed down in the fourth quarter. Miami was trailing by three points, and it became a game of just moving the ball instead of long passes. Stop and start, time out after time out, while they plotted how best to take the lead from the Packers.

Jaime was a man on fire, his eyes alive as he screamed and roared. Trying to keep momentum up, as the clock was winding down, he took a snap from the center. With three long strides back, he looked around for someone to throw to. Then, he pulled his arm back and threw a long arching pass that had everyone in the stadium on his or her feet.

All eyes traveled with the ball, except for Cass. She only had eyes for Jaime, and the two Packer linemen who were barreling toward him.

Jaime’s feet were still in the air when the biggest one plowed into him from down low; the other one caught him in the chest, the sound much like a freight train. Cass was on her feet. Her heart plummeted to her stomach. His body flew high in the air, his feet flew over his head, and somehow his helmet came off and flew in the other direction.

Almost as if she were watching a slow-motion replay, Cass stood helplessly by while the crowd erupted in victorious cheers, just as Jaime landed hard, his shoulder and neck taking all of his weight. His helmet continued to roll past the fifty-yard line, but he just lay there in a heap, unmoving, as the clock ticked down to zero.

“We won, hon. We won.” One of the Texas twosome grabbed her, but she broke free.

“Jaime!” she screamed, pointing to his motionless body just lying there, no one coming to his aid.

A hush fell over the stadium. Coaches began pouring out onto the field. The other players stopped celebrating. Even the other team stopped and stood like yellow and green statues as the hit Jaime took was played on the screen above their heads. He still didn’t move.

Cass felt an arm snake around her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right. He’s okay, hon. It’s going to be all right.” The women gathered around her holding her up when she felt her knees give out.

But it wasn’t all right. A camera from above the field came to rest over his seemingly lifeless body, showing the medical team scrambling to wake him up. He didn’t cooperate. After several long moments, a stretcher was brought out and Jaime’s neck immobilized. One of the water boys picked up his helmet and held it close. She could see horror in his young eyes.