Hart, Catherine
Page 19
"Actually, those aren't too bad," he said after contemplating the idea for a moment. "They're sporty, in a rugged kind of way, and not truly ugly, either." He grabbed her arm, towing her toward that section of the car lot. "C'mon, let's take a closer look."
"Ty! Have you seen the sticker price on those things?"
"What is it with you and a dime, lady?" he griped. "You earn good money as a reporter, and now you're making a bundle as our kicker—even if you are giving half of that away. Take advantage of the windfall, loosen your purse strings for once, and buy yourself a decent car, will you?"
Her hesitation lasted only as long as it took her to spot a gold Ford Explorer. To Ty's amusement, she examined it thoroughly from bumper to bumper, inside and out—going back to the price listing at least half a dozen times, as if hoping it would diminish if she did so often enough.
He had to laugh. "Jess, you're like a kid in a candy store. You can dicker on the price, you know."
"Yes, but I've been through this before, and these salesmen always try to take advantage of a woman. It's downright maddening the way they throw technical terms around in an effort to confuse you, and then act as if you can't add past ten without removing your shoes first."
"Babe? All you have to do is ask, and I'll be glad to help out," he tendered. "That is if you can put your feminine pride aside long enough to let me."
Jess frowned. "Am I really that bad?"
"Only when you want to be."
"Okay, let's go make this guy's day," she decided. "Just don't exclude me from the conversation altogether. It is going to be my car, after all, and it really gets my goat when people talk over and around me as if I'm invisible."
Actually, the salesman was quite nice, and wound up giving her a great deal on the car, after the company rebate was factored into the final tally. Jess's insurance check was a more than adequate down payment, and the additional financing went off without a hitch. By late that afternoon, she drove the Explorer off the lot, well-pleased with both her selection and a monthly payment that wouldn't send her straight into bankruptcy.
That evening, she took Ty for a short spin.
"Don't you just love that new car smell?" she sighed. "I think they should make a perfume like it. And men's aftershave."
Ty chuckled. "I'll see if I can buy you some for Christmas. What I like are the heated side mirrors and seats."
"And that gizmo that tells you the outside temperature," she added.
"The compass will come in a lot handier," he predicted.
"So, you like my new hot wheels?" she inquired, lifting an eyebrow in his direction.
"Yes. I think it suits you to a T. Modern, stylish, and sporty, all in one neat package."
"Why, Tyler James," she gushed, batting her lashes in exaggerated flirtation. "You and that silver tongue of yours are enough to turn a girl's head."
"Not while you're driving, sugar. Just keep those lovely eyes on the road."
A severe bout of the flu kept Gabe out of their next game against the Patriots. He didn't even fly with the team to Massachusetts, but stayed at home with Corey—who nursed him as best she could, primarily with lots of liquids and large doses of sympathy.
Fortunately, Sir Loin Simms was back in action, albeit amid a flurry of controversy. The lawyer he'd hired was in the process of trying to ascertain why Sir Loin's supervised drug test at the university hospital had shown no traces of cocaine—clearly in opposition to the results obtained twice over by Doc Johnson's testing. Meanwhile, as a conglomerate of medical and law personnel worked on the mystery, Sir Loin was restored to his usual slot on the team.
Brice Tackett was also back in the line up. After tests determined that it was a double dose of antihistamine in his system, and not alcohol or illegal drugs, he'd been let off with a warning to limit either his medicinal intake or his driving during allergy season.
As was his habit when an out-of-state game was slated, the Knights' manager booked a Saturday flight from Columbus to Boston. The man was conscientious to the point of paranoia when it came to making certain that flight delays, weather, and so forth would not prevent the team from reaching their destination in time for a scheduled game. This also usually allowed the Knights at least one practice on the unfamiliar field.
To the layman, this might have seemed silly, since one football field is basically the same as any other. But some coaches insisted that—given the different surfaces, weather conditions, directional layout for sun, shadow, and wind—it often made a significant difference. Additionally, travel was wearing, no matter what the means of transportation, and you wanted your team as fresh as possible in preparation for the match on enemy turf.
They touched down at Boston's Logan Airport just before noon. After checking into their hotel, the team piled into rented buses for the twenty-odd-mile drive to Foxborough, where the stadium was located. After practice, it was back to Boston, with the rest of the afternoon and evening to enjoy themselves.
"What would you like to do?" Ty asked Jess. "If we hurry, I think we've got time enough to catch the last afternoon whale watch cruise."
"I don't do water sports anymore, other than swimming in the occasional pool and chancing a few of the water rides at King's Island," Jess told him. "But go ahead if you want. I wouldn't want you to miss it just because I'm too chicken to go. I can while away the time shopping, or take in some of the tourist sights."
Ty declined. "It wouldn't be much fun without you. Are you sure I can't talk you into it? The weather is perfect, and the water is really calm. You shouldn't get too seasick."
"I don't get seasick," Jess informed him. "At least not the way you mean." She sighed deeply. "Ty, I haven't gone close to a body of unchlorinated water larger than a mud puddle since Dad and Mike died. I hate driving across bridges, for pity sake. I'd probably keel over from fright if I got within ten feet of a boat again."
Ty was immediately contrite. "Oh, God, Jess, I'm sorry. I'm a thoughtless ass for even mentioning it."
"No, you're not. You just didn't know, that's all. Besides, you can't be expected to tiptoe around the subject whenever we're together simply because I've got this phobia about boats and deep water."
Perhaps it was just that he wanted to make her feel better, or maybe his subconscious mind was replaying the advice Gabe had given him last week. Whatever it was, Ty found himself saying, "Why don't we go shopping before the stores close? Maybe hit F.A.O. Schwartz? Oh, and don't let me forget to get a new watch battery before this one conks off altogether. I've had to reset everything from the time to the date three times this past week. Then we can stop by this little place on the North End that is famous for its cappuccino. A trip to Boston wouldn't be complete without visiting there at least once."
Jess chuckled. "You and your cappuccino. I swear I'm going to buy you your own machine for Christmas."
Ty gave her his cute-little-boy grin. "Aw, gee! Do I have to wait that long? My birthday's coming up November 12th," he reminded her pointedly.
"I'll think about it," she told him, shaking her head over his antics. "You're worse than Josh at wheedling and whining."
Unlike most people, who would dash into Walgreens or Kmart and buy a new watch battery, Ty had to choose the most expensive jewelry store in town in which to purchase his. As he ushered her into the elite shop, Jess couldn't help but chide him.
"Wal-Mart would probably have it for a tenth the cost. Why come here, when you know it's going to cost you the earth for the very same battery?"
"Because I bought the watch here," he informed her, "and I know they'll stock it."
Jess had been in some fancy establishments, but this place was really swank: Thick carpeting that absorbed every little whisper of sound, making people inclined to walk and speak softly. On the walls, interspersed by panels of mirrors, was what appeared to be gold-embossed wallpaper. Scores of little vanity stools were lined up along the shiny mile-long counters. Inside the glass display cases, set against a colorful
background of silk and velvet, was every item of jewelry imaginable, all polished to a high sheen, the radiance of which almost made Jess reach for her sunglasses.
"Why don't you window shop while I see about the battery?" Ty suggested, waving her toward a display case.
"It's for sure I can't afford to do anything more than look," she replied in a low voice. "Most of this stuff isn't even tagged, which I take to mean 'if you have to ask the price, you can't afford it.' "
Jess wandered around, peering into case after case, trying not to drool at the exquisite merchandise within. Normally, she didn't wear much jewelry, except for earrings, for which she had a passion. But this array was enough to tempt even her.
"May I help you with anything?"
Jess glanced up at the saleslady. "No thank you. I'm just browsing."
Ty stepped up beside her. "See anything you like?"
"Only everything," she admitted ruefully. "Now I know what they mean about having a champagne appetite and a beer pocketbook."
Ever so casually, Ty steered her over to a case containing rings—solitaires, engagement rings, wedding sets—any and every kind imaginable. There he stopped and leaned an elbow on the counter, as if totally unaware of its contents. "It'll take a couple of minutes to install the battery," he remarked lazily. "You don't mind waiting, do you? It would be silly to have to come back later, when we're right here."
"As long as they don't charge anything for breathing the rarified air in here," she quipped. "You can almost smell the money, can't you?"
Ty laughed. "That's gold and diamond dust, darlin'." He glanced down, into the case on which he was leaning. "And little wonder. Get a gander at some of these, Jess. That one's bright enough to glow in the dark. And over there, look at the size of that rock."
Jess stepped closer. "They're all beautiful."
"Which do you like best?"
"I can't afford to like any of them."
"But this is only window shopping, Jess, where you're allowed to pretend you can buy anything your heart desires. At least that's how my sisters taught me to play the game. So how about it? If you didn't have to worry about the price, which one would you choose over all the others?"
She perused the display, nibbling on her lower lip as she examined each ring in turn. Finally she made her choice. "That one," she said, pointing it out to him. She'd selected a round, brilliant-cut diamond of moderate size, flanked on either side by a smaller stone. All three gems were mounted over a brushed gold band.
Ty blinked in surprise, then wrinkled his nose. "That dinky thing?" he jeered.
"Dinky?" she echoed. "For crying out loud, Ty. The center stone alone has got to be a half carat. And look at the way it's cut, all the facets. I'm no expert, but even I can tell that it reflects the light much better than some of the others."
"She's absolutely correct," the saleswoman agreed in her soft-spoken manner. "Your lady has impeccable taste, sir. Size alone does not determine the quality of a gem." Unlocking the cabinet, she reached in and withdrew the ring Jess had selected. "This is an excellent example of the four C's. Color, cut, clarity and carat weight. Still, no matter what it looks like in the case, it can look altogether different on a person's hand. You really can't tell if it's going to be flattering until you wear it."
She held the ring out to Jess. "Go ahead. Try it on, dear."
"Oh, I shouldn't," Jess protested, even as she reached for the ring. "After all, it's not as if I'm going to buy it."
The woman smiled. "Do you buy every pair of shoes you try on?" she rebutted.
Jess slipped the ring over her knuckle and gazed down at the gems winking on her finger. Holding it at arm's length, she twisted her wrist this way and that, watching the diamonds sparkle. "It's gorgeous," she said with a sigh.
"It looks fine to me. I guess you're a fair judge of what suits you after all. Anything bigger wouldn't have looked right on your slim fingers," Ty admitted.
"Absolutely," the woman concurred. "Except the band is about a half size too large. You want it snug enough that the setting won't slip off to the side."
Reluctantly, Jess removed the ring and handed it back. "It's lovely, but as I said, I'm just browsing."
"It's nice to daydream once in a while, though," the lady said, locking the ring away again. She spotted another customer. "If you see anything else you'd like to examine more closely, let me know. I'll be right over here."
As she walked away, the gentleman who had waited on Ty motioned him to the other counter. Jess gave the ring a final covetous glance on her way out of the store, then put it firmly out of her mind. She was not about to torment herself with wanting something she couldn't have.
It was a pity she couldn't apply that same attitude toward her relationship with Ty; but from the start her heart had overruled her head, and any common sense she might have possessed had flown straight out of her head. Fool or not, God help her, she was utterly, irrevocably in love with the man.
CHAPTER 20
After breakfast the next morning, Ty rented a car and they went for a drive in the country. The fall foliage, currently at its peak, was magnificent. Autumn had donned her most brilliant colors for their viewing pleasure. Reds, oranges, yellows, of every shade, intermingled in kaleidoscope fashion.
Merely by chance, they happened upon the observatory. When Ty suggested they go inside and get a bird's-eye look from the summit, Jess agreed enthusiastically. Atop one of the highest vantage points in New England, they were presented with a panorama of breathtaking beauty. Boston lay spread out below them, with the multihued mountains of New Hampshire as a backdrop and fields and forests blending into a wondrous burst of color. Even the harbor was gowned in splendor this morning, glittering like sun-drenched crystal.
"Oh, it's absolutely spectacular!" Jess gushed. "Can you imagine what it must be like up here at night, with all the stars out, and a full moon shining down?"
"A harvest moon," Ty added. "That would be something to behold. Unfortunately, while our timing is great for the daytime viewing, it stinks when it comes to a moonlight vista. We're about two weeks shy, or past, a full moon, whichever way you care to cut it. Furthermore, it's supposed to cloud up this evening."
"Ah well," Jess sighed. "The best made plans of mice and men, et cetera."
Plans, practice, preparation—all went for naught when applied to the game that afternoon. The Patriots were on a hot streak and not about to be denied another win, most especially from a fledgling band of misfits called the Knights. With two of his main receivers missing, Ty was fighting an uphill battle all the way. Moreover, his blockers were definitely out-classed and out-muscled. As a result, Ty was sacked a total of five times, not to mention the numerous other hard hits he took. Every time he turned around, it seemed he was being tackled and tossed to the ground.
For her part, Jess made every point but one, a kick-after which was blocked by a Patriot who would have dwarfed the Jolly Green Giant. The final score, at the end of four long, grueling quarters, was twenty to fifty-four, in favor of the Patriots. Not a total shutout, thankfully, but still discouraging.
At the conclusion of the game, as the players and coaches gathered on the field to shake hands, Jess found herself adrift in a sea of Patriot uniforms. To her surprise and delight, she quickly spotted at least four familiar faces, all former OSU football players. Within seconds, she and they had converged and were soon chatting like old friends, though Jess had never before met any of them personally. The simple fact that they were all Ohio State alumni proved an instant bond.
It was several minutes before Jess became aware of Ty, standing apart from her group and glaring daggers at her—and several more minutes before she could politely extricate herself from the conversation. Timidity not being her style, she approached him boldly. "Okay, sunshine, what crawled down your craw and stuck?"
His scowl deepened. "What was that all about? Are you holding court now?"
Jess's eyebrows shot up, her temper immediat
ely on the rise. "Pardon me?"
"You're getting awfully chummy with our rivals, aren't you?"
"Oh, for heaven sake! They might play for the opposing team, but they're hardly enemies. Those guys are all former OSU players. If you would have come over, I could have introduced you."
"I've met a couple of them previously," he informed her dryly.
"Well, they're terrific," Jess went on. "It was great talking with them, if only for a couple of minutes. Like old home week on campus."
"With you as the queen bee," he stated accusingly. "I saw you smiling and batting your eyes at them, like some star-struck teenie-bopper."
"What?" Jess shrieked. "You're crazy, James. I was doing no such thing."
"The hell you weren't. You didn't budge an inch when that big ape slung his arm across your shoulders. You just looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes and laughed."
Jess rolled her eyes in exasperation. "It wasn't as if he was trying to put the make on me, you dumb jerk. It was just a friendly gesture."
"Was your eyeing the punter's groin just a friendly little gesture, too?" he inquired snidely.
Jess stood firm, her own eyes blazing now and her lips tight. "I was not eyeing his groin, you jackass. He was demonstrating how to hold a ball for a punt. In fact, he gave me several good pointers."
Ty snorted. "Yeah, I'll bet he did, sugar. Did he offer to show you some of his better moves at a more opportune time and place?"
Jess squelched an irate scream. "Yeah," she retorted scathingly. "We've got a date to have a fling under the OSU bleachers the next time he's in town."
Ty grabbed her arms, hauling her up on her toes before him. "Over my dead body," he growled.
"Hey! I was kidding," Jess exclaimed. "For the love of Pete, Tyler. Why are you behaving like such an idiot? What has gotten into you?"
"He didn't ask you out? You didn't accept?" he pressed.
"No, of course not. What kind of tramp do you take me for, anyway?" Jess reached one hand far enough to give him a solid whack on the side of his head. "Just because Barb had a roving eye, don't paint me with the same brush, buster. I don't poach, and I don't wander. As long as you and I are together, I won't go out with anyone else—and I expect you to abide by the same rules."