Blindsided: Seattle Steelheads Football (Game on in Seattle Book 6)

by Jami Davenport

  He stalked from the room. A few minutes later, his truck spun out of the driveway and down the gravel road. She watched his taillights until they disappeared out of sight.

  Emma buried her face in her hands and cried like she’d never cried in her life. Her heart broke into a million irreparable pieces. He was right. She didn’t have any idea, and he didn’t trust her enough to enlighten her.

  Or care enough.

  * * * *

  Tanner had stayed away after the fight. Instead, he slept on the couch at Hunter’s place. He texted Emma the next morning to let her know he was okay. The Fish played their last preseason game the next night—a Friday night game against Oakland at home—and would spend the night before the game together in a downtown Seattle hotel. It was one of Miller’s cardinal rules to foster team unity.

  Tanner didn’t see his father Thursday evening as it appeared he’d caught the eye of a stripper and spent the night and Tanner’s money with her. Losing a little cash made it worth not listening to his dad ridiculing him the night before a game.

  Now it was game day.

  Relieved he’d dodged a bullet and not been forced to deal with the old man, Tanner parked in the stadium lot near the players’ entrance, only to be startled by a loud rap on his passenger side window.

  “Let me in, you piece of crap.”

  Tanner cringed and unlocked the door before the man made a scene that’d show up on every social media outlet in seconds.

  “You’ve been avoiding me. We were supposed to meet for breakfast.”

  “Sorry, had team stuff to take care of.”

  His father squinted his eyes and studied his son. “You’re a pansy-assed wuss. You’ve been avoiding me because you don’t want to hear the truth.”

  “You’re right, I don’t, especially from you.” Tanner gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. At least he didn’t smell alcohol on the man’s breath, which was rare this late in the afternoon.

  “This is it, you loser. Screw this game up, and you can kiss your NFL career goodbye. You’ll be living in a gutter in no time and don’t expect me to help you out when that happens.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tanner muttered sarcastically. He hated the person he became whenever his father was around.

  “Worthless piece of shit,” the old man shot back.

  Tanner opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off but snapped it shut. He wouldn’t be drawn into an argument. The man loved arguing for the sake of arguing. His father’s brand of tough love didn’t work so well with Tanner anymore. He didn’t need the bastard breaking down his fragile confidence.

  Tanner judged the distance from the car to the locker room and wondered if he could get there before anyone caught them with their cell cameras.

  “You think that pretty little thing will stick with a loser like you if you don’t pull your head out of your ass and find a way to be a winner? Not that you have it in you. You’ve always been the softest of the boys, not able to handle the pressure.”

  Tanner had handled pressure just fine when he’d been in college, but that’d been a blissful four years with rarely a visit from his father, who’d been restricted to Pennsylvania because of too many DUIs. Yeah, that’d been a dream four years.

  Tanner closed his eyes and tried to drown out the incessant damaging criticism. “I have to go,” he said, ready to bolt.

  His father didn’t let up. In fact, he followed Tanner to the stadium door, still bitching, until he saw Coach Meyer standing nearby. Meyer appeared to size-up the situation with one shrewd glance like he’d once done with opposing defenses.

  “Hey, Coach.” Tanner nodded at him. Meyer nodded back, completely expressionless.

  “Your father?” he said, holding out a hand.

  “John Wolfe. Jack, so great to meet you. I’m a fan.”

  Coach raised one appraising eyebrow, obviously seeing right through John’s bullshit. “So am I. Of your son. Now let’s get him inside so he can get ready.”

  On that note, he gestured to Tanner. John tried to follow, but Meyer blocked his entrance. “Sorry, team only.” On that note, he shut the door in John’s face.

  Tanner stood near the door, watching Meyer. “Thanks, I have a hard time shaking him off, but he means well.” Tanner always made excuses for his father. Why stop now?

  Meyer cocked a brow. “Does he now?”

  “Yeah.” Tanner hurried past him and into the locker room, hoping these last few shitty days didn’t end with a shitty game.

  Unfortunately, they did. Three hours and the same number of interceptions later, Tanner dressed in a quiet locker room. Sure, it was just preseason, but it was the last preseason game, and the entire offense played like crap, dragging the defense down to their level by the end of the game.

  Tanner played the entire first half, completely shutout. Hernandez didn’t do any better, and the third string quarterback finished the game, throwing for their only touchdown in a thirty-five to seven loss.

  Tanner had sucked. Beyond sucked. He’d sucked the air right out of the stadium, walking off the field at halftime to a chorus of boos. He deserved every boo in the place.

  At least Hernandez sulked in his corner and said nothing.

  Coach Lindon, the offensive coordinator, stopped at his locker. “We’d like to meet with you tomorrow morning at eight A.M. sharp.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tanner said to his back. Known for his brevity, Lindon had walked off before he heard Tanner’s response.

  Tanner ran his hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. They were going to cut him. He could feel it. Not only would he lose the starting job, but a spot on the team. They’d keep Hernandez and White and send him packing. Either his career would be over or he’d be forced to move.

  How would Emma feel about a move out of Seattle? Or would that be the end of them?

  Even more puzzling, why was Emma the first worry that popped into his head instead of his dying-a-slow-death football career?

  * * * *

  Emma waited for Tanner, not sure how this mini-reunion might go. She hadn’t seen him in two nights, and he’d texted before the game to meet him outside the locker room afterward.

  She was grateful to Isaac for removing the biggest obstacle, their father. Isaac hustled him out of the stadium to the airport. Emma could still hear the man ranting about Tanner and what a crappy excuse he was for a son and a football player. Had he been like this his boys’ entire life? That wasn’t the story they told, at least not to the media. Maybe there was a logical explanation, such as he was off his meds.

  “Hi,” Emma said stiffly, unable to get beyond her hurt. “Are you coming home tonight?”

  “Where the fuck else would I go?” Tanner snapped, and she backed away, shocked at the pure venom in his voice.

  He immediately sobered as if the air went out of him. Slumping slightly, despondency etched deep lines in his face. “I’m sorry. I’m upset, but none of this is your fault.”

  “The game wasn’t your most shining moment.”

  “Yeah, not any of today was good. Where’s Dad?” Tanner asked, scowling, as he scanned the group near the locker and didn’t see him.

  “Isaac and Avery took him for dinner and to the airport.”

  “No shit? I owe Ice big time.” He groaned, and Emma had to laugh.

  “He’s not the father I expected.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I keep him hidden from the world and created an imaginary father,” Tanner admitted in a rare moment of honesty.

  Emma contemplated pushing for more info, encouraged by Tanner’s comment, but more stress probably wasn’t what he needed tonight.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said as he grabbed her hand, avoiding the press hovering in the wings and sneaking out a back door and down a narrow hallway into the parking lot.

  “Aren’t you required to speak to them?”

  “Yeah, and I did. In the locker room. Now I’m done. Off the clock.” He slowed his fr
antic pace and shot her an apologetic glance. His green eyes softened. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

  Emma was suddenly hungry, and even though she’d missed him immensely these last two nights, she could stand a bite to eat. Later they’d make up for their two-night separation. She hoped.

  He must have read her hesitation as disinterest, as a worried frown marred his handsome face. “I know a place with the best fudge brownie sundaes.” He winked at her. There couldn’t be a woman on earth who could resist that wink.

  “Deal,” she said unable to stop the smile.

  He grinned at her, his sad face lighting up. Putting his arm around her, together they walked to his truck.

  “Where are your wingmen?”

  “Tonight, baby, it’s just you and me. Two nights without you was pure torture.”

  Emma couldn’t conceal her surprise at his admission. “You mean that?”

  “Oh, yeah, let me show you how much.” Without warning he flattened her against the passenger door and kissed the hell out of her, leaving Emma boneless and completely collapsed against him.

  “Tanner,” she gasped.

  His mouth came down on hers again, gentler this time, seeking, asking, giving, and taking. His tongue tangoed with hers while his big hands slid up her rib cage to the swells of her breasts. He cupped them through her bra and groaned with need, rubbing lazy circles over her erect nipples while pressing his erection into the V between her legs.

  “I want you, Emma. Two days was two days too long.”

  “I know. I—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, get a room,” Grady shouted as he approached his car parked nearby.

  Tanner didn’t move, but Emma, mortified beyond belief, slid away from him and straightened her clothes.

  He ignored his buddies, opened the car door for Emma, and grinned. “Why don’t we go home instead of out to dinner?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Good. I need to be inside you so fucking bad, I’m not even sure I can make it home.”

  She tossed him a sultry smile. “Then don’t.”

  Tanner choked, as if he couldn’t believe her words. “D-don’t?” he stuttered, gaping at her in complete shock.

  “Yes, don’t.”

  He put the key in the ignition and tore out of the lot.

  “Where can we go?” he muttered, mostly to himself. A couple blocks down the street, he swung his truck into the parking lot of a nice hotel.

  “Work for you?”

  Emma nodded. He held her hand as he checked them in. The clerk raised a brow at their lack of luggage but said nothing. Obviously, he wasn’t a football fan either because he didn’t recognize Tanner.

  As soon as the elevator doors swished shut, Tanner’s hands were all over her again.

  “Tanner, there’re probably cameras everywhere.”

  “Yeah, so?” He grinned and ground his hips against hers, while he nibbled his way down her neck. Emma forgot why she was protesting and clung to him. They disentangled themselves once the elevator opened on the penthouse floor and ran to the large room. Emma didn’t have a chance to check out their surroundings before Tanner was stripping off her clothes and his. Holding her against the wall, he thrust inside her with the intensity of a man on a mission. She closed her eyes, locked her legs around his waist, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He moved in and out of her, panting and desperate.

  “Harder,” Emma pleaded, just as desperate.

  “Oh, baby.” Tanner had never disappointed her when it came to sex, and he didn’t this time either. Their bodies were joined together as he frantically thrust into her, dragging her body up the wall on every inward thrust. Slick with sweat, they slid easily against each other.

  His tall, lean body started to shudder, and Emma knew he was about to come. Her own body clenched around his erection, milking every last drop from him.

  He cried out her name and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. Together they slid to the floor, a tangle of arms and legs, as they lay entangled on the cool tile.

  She snuggled in his arms, their hearts beating together in a wild rhythm. With every beat, he burrowed deeper into her heart and soul.

  Chapter 18--Dropping Back

  More relaxed than he had a right to be, Tanner ambled into the Bridge first thing Saturday morning. Since the team didn’t play again for almost a week and a half, Coach Miller had given them a few days off while the coaching staff made the final team cuts to get the roster down to the required number of players. The Bridge was too quiet, almost ominous, but Tanner refused to be sucked into a negative spiral.

  Whatever they threw at him today, he could handle with Emma in his corner, propping him up when he was too weary to stand on his own. He’d never had a woman who cared more about him than her next pedicure or shopping spree, and he hadn’t realized how sad that really was until Emma illuminated all his dark places with a single smile. Just thinking about her lifted his spirits. He liked it. Maybe way too much. As hard as he’d tried to maintain a distance, she’d wiggled under the fence around his heart and made herself at home.

  His life was better with her in it. If only he could say the same for hers. He didn’t know if he’d done her a favor or a disservice by dragging her into this last-minute marriage. She seemed happy at times, at others, he caught her looking at him with sadness in her eyes, as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. The only thing Tanner wanted to drop was to his knees and worship the ground on which she walked.

  Oh, God, he was turning into a romantic sap.

  He’d known for a while she’d had a crush on him. Now he wondered who was crushing on whom. He always wanted what he couldn’t have, loving the challenge of going after the impossible. Maybe their temporary agreement created a similar situation in his screwed-up brain.

  Thoughts of Emma would have to wait, as he steeled himself for his next battle.

  He rapped on the closed door and waited until he heard the invitation to enter. Drawing in a deep breath, Tanner strode through the door, exuding confidence he didn’t feel, but drawing comfort knowing good or bad Emma waited for him.

  The head coach, offensive coordinator, and quarterback coach all glanced up and smiled at him as he entered. Smiling had to be a good sign, especially from Meyer. It beat the hell out of scowling or cringing. Tanner grinned back, dropped into an empty chair across the table, and leaned forward, hands clasped on the desk.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said cheerfully, secretly applauding his acting skills.

  They all responded then every set of eyes turned to Miller. As head coach, he’d lead the discussion. Something in Coach Miller’s gaze clutched at Tanner’s heart and spiraled his confidence into a nose dive.

  Crap.

  Tanner held his breath and waited, his smile frozen painfully on his face.

  “Tanner,” Coach began, pausing to consult his iPad. “You have talent. No one disputes that fact. You’re built to be the ideal quarterback—speed, quickness, great arm, smart, and with a competitive drive. Your work ethic is unparalleled. The only unknown is an intangible which separates the great quarterbacks from the good and mediocre quarterbacks. We have concerns regarding your confidence level and your ability to play through adversity and rise above it. Great quarterbacks raise the level of play of their teammates. They win when all the odds are stacked against them. They create opportunities that shouldn’t exist. We don’t know if you’re that guy, but we’ve seen glimpses, and we believe you can be. The question is, do you believe it?”

  “Yes, sir, I do,” Tanner spoke quickly, hiding his hands in his lap before the coaches noticed they were shaking.

  Coach Miller pointed toward Jack Meyer. “Jack is willing to bet his career on you, and Jack’s endorsement is all I need. You’re our starting quarterback unless you do something to lose the job.”

  “Thank you,” Tanner answered simply, his brain racing to process the words he hadn’t been prepared to hear.

&
nbsp; Coach stood. “Thanks, that’ll be all. See you back here on Monday. Take a few days off and enjoy time with your new wife.”

  Tanner nodded and shook hands with all of them. Meyer gripped his hand the longest, giving him a piercing gaze that said more than his words ever could. There’d be hell to pay if Tanner let him down, and Tanner could not let that happen.

  Full of hope and already feeling the pressure, he jogged to his truck, anxious to get home to Emma. He started to call her, but decided to tell her in person. She’d be as thrilled as he was. The only other person who’d ever cared this much about him had been his sister.

  He’d forgotten how much he’d missed having someone in his life who supported him through good and bad.

  Emma did that, and he was starting to find it hard to imagine life without her.

  * * * *

  Emma paced the length of the front porch, pausing on each trip to check her phone in case she hadn’t heard it ring.

  Nothing.

  Dread filled her. He’d been in his meeting for almost an hour. The longer the better, right? Unless he was cleaning out his locker and saying goodbye to staff and teammates.

  Oh, please, no.

  Tanner being cut wouldn’t be the end of the world. It’d be the Steelheads’ loss. Another team would pick him up because Emma believed he was that good. Under the right circumstances he’d prove how good he was. She had faith in Tanner, but she didn’t have faith in the Steelheads’ new management—and definitely not the old management—to see past his mistakes to the raw, untapped talent beneath.

  What if he was cut? And he signed with another team? Then what?

  Emma shuddered at the thought. She’d never lived anywhere but the Seattle area and never wanted to move. Sure, she entertained dreams of Nashville, but in her dreams she’d always maintained a house in Seattle.

  Tanner didn’t have those ties to Seattle, even though his brother was here, and Tanner had played college ball here. He’d been raised near Pittsburgh. In her eyes, his origins made him an East Coast boy, even though he’d assimilated the Northwest’s casual lifestyle as well as any native.