Games of the Heart

by Pamela Yaye

  “See you guys later!” Khari jumped out of the Jeep SUV. He was sprinting toward the school before either of them could reply.

  “Isn’t this trip just for seniors?” Sage asked, clicking off her seat belt and glancing at Marshall. “It looks like the whole school is here!”

  “Ready for the trip?” he asked, relinquishing his hold on the steering wheel.

  “You have no idea. Today couldn’t come fast enough.” It was another wickedly cold day in Indianapolis, but nothing could dampen her spirits. The orange-hued sun was creeping over the horizon and vibrant shades of burgundy, pink and magenta were splashed across the morning sky. “You were holding out on me, Marshall. I looked up the resort on my laptop last night, and not only is it the only five-star ski lodge in the state, it’s only an hour and a half from Chicago. We should zip down to the Windy City and have lunch at Pizzeria Due restaurant.”

  “You’d drive ninety minutes for pizza?”

  “Sure would.” His eyes widened in shock and Sage laughed. “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Wait until you try their Chicken Fajita Deep Dish Pizza. One bite and you’ll be begging for more!”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” His words, though innocent, made her body weak in all the right places. Sitting in the car a mere breath away from him was a temptation she just didn’t need. She was staring openly and there was no mistaking the sheer, magnetic hunger in his gorgeous, almond-brown eyes.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Marshall took out his wallet, produced a slip of paper and handed it to her. “Here’s your confirmation number. I tried to get you a room on the same floor as the group, but the lodge is fully booked.”

  “No problem. That means I won’t have to listen to giggly teenage girls all night.”

  Laughing, Sage opened the passenger door and stepped out of the Jeep SUV. If she was going to keep her head and not repeat the scene out on the porch, she had to put physical space between them. And if that didn’t work, she’d sprint like hell. There was no shame in running, especially when lust had you in its erotic grip.

  Sage went around to the trunk and grabbed her suitcase. Appearing beside her, Marshall reached in, covering her hand with his own. “Let me. A woman as beautiful as you has no business carrying her own luggage.”

  A bolt of excitement zipped up her back. Sage lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, convinced that he had felt it too. Her whole body ached to touch him, to feel the tenderness of his kiss and the warmth of his hands. It was all she could think about these days. “I’m used to taking care of myself,” she told him, her eyes circling the parking lot. “I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

  “I know, but let me help you out. Makes me feel useful,” he said with a chuckle. “It won’t be long before Khari’s carting me off to some old folks home.”

  Sage smiled up at him, loving the twinkle in his eyes, his scent and the delicious sound of his laugh. “You’re talking crazy. You’re only thirty-seven. That’s not old.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. I have the gray hairs to prove it!”

  They laughed together.

  “Do you mind taking my bags to the bus? I’ve gotta go to the ladies room.”

  “No problem.” He checked his watch. “We’re on bus number eight and it leaves in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Inside the school washroom, Sage studied her reflection in the mirror. Popping a peppermint candy into her mouth, she sprayed a vanilla-scented mist onto her brush and dragged it through her hair. She and Marshall would be in close quarters for the next five hours and she wanted to make sure her breath smelled minty fresh and every hair was in place. Her whole career was riding on this weekend. It was do or die, and she had no intention of failing. If she signed Khari, she would use her raise to square her debts and to buy a house. No more renting. Finally she would have a place to call her own. She didn’t want a mansion, just a spacious master bedroom, a handsome kitchen and a wide-open porch like the one Marshall had.

  Marshall. There he was invading her thoughts again. Refusing to revisit their kiss, she grabbed her handbag, threw open the bathroom door and walked briskly down the hall. The once-crowded field was virtually empty, and only two buses remained in the parking lot. Wishing her purse wasn’t weighed down with fashion magazines and CDs, she increased her pace. On the bus, she took the empty seat beside Marshall.

  “Want some?” Marshall held a Kit Kat candy bar in his outstretched hand.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Come on,” he urged, his lips twisted in a crooked smile. “You know you want some. Two weeks ago you beat the crap out of the vending machine for one of these. It’s your favorite.”

  “I can’t eat that now. It isn’t even nine o’clock!”

  “Has that ever stopped you before?” He ripped off the wrapper and waved a stick under her nose. “Smells good, doesn’t it?”

  “Since you insist,” she replied, snatching it from his hands and devouring a stick in three giant bites. “Mmm…” she cooed, licking the chocolate from her fingers. “I hope you have more, because once I get started, I just can’t stop!”

  Marshall swallowed a groan. Her mouth was smeared with chocolate and he could smell the sweet aroma on her lips. Imagining her naked, sprawled out on his platform bed, lathered in chocolate syrup, made his throat tight and his palms slick. Why was he tormenting himself like this? Not only was she accustomed to a life of wealth, she lived in Las Vegas, viewed long-term relationships as a death trap and she didn’t have a college degree. Four credits shy of graduation, she had dropped out of school, moved to Sin City and took a job at a marketing agency. It was hard to believe that a girl from the ghetto, who grew up in foster care, had grown up to be a flamboyant spender with expensive tastes. Sage liked designer clothes, fast cars and living on the edge. And according to the self-proclaimed thrill-seeker, the riskier the adventure, the better.

  Marshall used to live on the edge, but those days were long behind him. He was a father, an upstanding citizen, a do-gooder. What would his family and friends think if they knew he was cavorting with a younger woman? Okay, so he wasn’t Hugh Heffner and she wasn’t forty years his junior, but there were years and years of life experience between them. And he now had Khari to think about and set an example for; he didn’t want any distractions.

  Eyebrows spiked when he had introduced Sage to the other parent volunteers, and Mrs. Abongwa, a sharp-tongued mother of two, had muttered under her breath. Peering at the front of the bus, where the woman now sat, Marshall wondered if she was whispering about him to the chemistry teacher. Eighty-seven students, parents and teachers filled the luxury buses, and aside from Steve Harvey’s animated voice streaming out of the driver’s radio, the cabin was quiet. Khari sat two rows ahead, but like the other passengers onboard, he was snoring to the gentle chug of the bus.

  “Thanks, Marshall. That really hit the spot.”

  He brought his gaze back to her. A chocolate stain dotted her chin.

  “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

  Plagued by a sheer, almost primitive desire, he stamped out the sinful thoughts ruling his mind and body. If he was going to make it through this weekend with his reputation intact, he had to stop daydreaming about making love to her.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?” Licking her lips, she cleaned the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. “If Khari wakes up and sees me like this, he’ll clown me for the rest of the trip. Is it gone?” she asked, presenting her face for inspection.

  It was still there.

  “Well?”

  Not trusting himself to speak, he reached out and cleaned away the spot with his thumb. She didn’t smack his hand away, didn’t tell him to back off and didn’t recoil in disgust. Marshall slipped a hand around her shoulders. It was meant to be a caring gesture, but it elevated his anxiety. They sat staring, locked in the moment, each intimately aware of the other. Time ceased to exist. Seconds slipped i
nto minutes, but they remained fixated on each other, a pair of real-life statues. Moved by the strength of her perfume, he leaned over and stroked her cheek with his thumb, surprised that such a simple act could elevate his desire.

  “Thanks, Marshall.” Favoring him with a smile, she dropped her voice to a sultry whisper, her full lips grazing his ear. “Do you have any other hidden talents, because I sure could use a foot rub.”

  Proving to himself that he wasn’t turned on by her blatant come-ons, he reached out and affectionately squeezed her thigh. “You know where to find me.”

  Chapter 11

  Marshall watched Sage tie up her hiking boots. Her pants looked like they were holding on to her ass for dear life, and he wasn’t the only one admiring her delicious shape. Three married men were practically frothing at the mouth. Their wives, perfectly plump stay-at-home moms, were at the back of the group, chatting merrily about baking recipes, the season finale of Desperate Housewives and their teenage daughters.

  An ambitious group of nature lovers, high on fresh air and sunshine, were enjoying an afternoon hike on Black Bear Mountain. The must-see view, with its tall, majestic mountains and pristine wilderness was a real-life postcard. Marshall had explored the trail countless times over the years and had every intention of spending the afternoon out on the slopes, but when he saw Sage sign up for the hike, he’d quickly followed suit. The gondola ride was the highlight of the tour, and being alone with Sage in the most romantic place in the resort was too tempting to pass up.

  Khari was snowboarding with his friends and Marshall didn’t care if he saw his son again for the rest of the weekend. Usually, he kept a protective eye on Khari, but he’d never had a female guest before. And there was no mistake about it, Sage was his guest.

  Owen Cunningham, the only other single father in the group, had latched on to Sage the moment he saw her, and didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. The man had the nose of a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out beautiful women. He’d already put the moves on the tour guide, a female ski instructor and now Sage.

  Marshall eyed the pair and quickly surmised that Owen was a threat. A big threat. The divorced father was a self-made man who had made his millions the easy way. Born into a family of extreme wealth and prestige, the fortysomething entrepreneur owned a fleet of high-end apartment suites and office buildings. His name was synonymous with high living, and in the past Marshall had seen the businessman work his charms on several of the single mothers in the group.

  Marshall thought of rescuing Sage, but decided against it. She’d think he was jealous. And he was. He just didn’t want to show it. Besides, Owen Cunningham had a better chance of winning the state lottery than scoring with Sage. She had better taste than that. And it would take a lot more than smooth pickup lines and a flashy gold Rolex watch to win over the gorgeous World Mission executive. Or so he hoped.

  With much difficulty, he tore his eyes away from her curvaceous body and stared up at the clear, wide-open sky. But a second later, he was back at it. This time, he chose to admire her long, slim legs. Sage Collins was a contradiction. Tomboy and girlie at the same time. Chic but overdressed, the short, fur-hooded coat, body-molding pants and brown equestrian-type boots emphasized her youthfulness and expensive tastes.

  Sage glanced over her shoulder, caught him staring at her and stuck out her tongue. Her eyes were bright with laughter and she wore a mischievous expression on her face. Smiling ruefully, he shook his head. Sage was fun, lively and no stranger to trouble. Everything his ex-wife used to be. And not only did both women have wide, sensuous lips and an infectious laugh, they had the same quirky mannerisms. Memories long buried surfaced.

  He’d met Roxanne at the local bowling alley, and though they went to rival high schools, he’d fallen hard for her. Skipping class, making out in the backseat of his car and spending hours on the phone became a way of life. They were young and in love and all was right with the world. And when Marshall got a taste of his first orgasm, he was like a kid in a candy store. He couldn’t get enough.

  They even went to the same college. It was a humid afternoon the August before their sophomore year when he picked Roxanne up from her part-time job at Burger World and noticed her tear-stained cheeks. Long-faced and subdued, she stared out the passenger window, refusing to answer his questions. After pestering her for three quarters of an hour, she finally broke her silence. Eyes filled with tears, she cleaned her runny nose with the back of her hand and said, “I’m pregnant.” He lost control of the car and ended up in the ditch.

  Hoping and praying the home pregnancy test was wrong, he accompanied her to the walk-in clinic the following day. Convinced this was nothing more than a scare, he assured her she wasn’t pregnant and vowed to be more careful from now on. But when the doctor entered the room, Marshall knew. Knew that Roxanne was pregnant, knew that he was going to be a father, knew that his life would never be the same. Then seeing Roxanne waste away. In the blink of an eye, he’d lost everything. His hopes, his dreams, his future. Gone. Like a puff of smoke.

  For as long as Marshall lived, he’d never forget the look on his dad’s face when he told him Roxanne was pregnant. Eyes filled with disappointment, shoulders slumped, he’d rubbed his hands over his weathered face. Even now, seventeen years later, Marshall could still hear the anguish in his father’s voice when he said, “How could you have let something like this happen, son? Do you know what you’ve done?”

  The ferocity of the wind and the sound of rustling trees jarred Marshall out of his thoughts. Sage and Owen were now at the front of the pack, miles ahead of the other hikers. Five more minutes and they’d be at the information center. Once the group stopped for water and bathroom breaks, he’d swoop down, steer Sage over to the tower and buy their tickets for the gondola ride.

  Thought you said she was too young? Marshall ignored the voice, wishing he had never made her age, or rather, the lack of it, an issue. His problem was and always had been that he had a tendency to overanalyze situations, to dissect things from every angle and from every side, no matter how straightforward. It was a skill he had acquired as a sharpshooter, but it was a useless and taxing trait for everyday life and annoyed his friends and family to no end.

  His gaze slid over her pretty mouth and delicate cheekbones. Even in fuzzy earmuffs and burly scarf she was still a beauty. And he wasn’t scared to admit that he wanted her. And from now on, he wasn’t going to analyze his feelings for her to death. Sage was a cosmopolitan woman, terribly independent and had the power to play men like the strings on a fiddle. Look at Owen. He was tripping over himself trying to impress her. But could he blame him? He’d be doing the same thing if he were in his shoes. Hell, he already had been! He’d fallen victim to his desire and kissed her and there was no question in his mind it would happen again.

  “How’d you meet her?”

  Marshall glanced to his left. It was Eddie Romano, one of the married gawkers.

  “You find her on one of those online dating sites?”

  Not wanting to divulge too much, he shrugged dismissively. “We met through friends.” It was true. If Denzel hadn’t approached Sage at Champions Sports Bar, he never would have seen her. Are you sure? his inner voice asked, challenging his recollection of the night in question. Why was he lying to himself? He’d noticed Sage the second he’d walked into the bar. How could anyone miss those smoky eyes, that Colgate-white smile and that bangin’ body?

  “The girl’s young, huh? Can’t be much older than your boy.”

  “She’s legal, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You guys sharing a room?”

  “No,” Marshall replied, annoyed. Just because their son played basketball on the same team, it didn’t give Eddie license to pry.

  “Since she came with you, I assumed you were a couple.”

  “Well, we’re not. And even if we were, we still wouldn’t be sharing a room. What kind of message would I be sending my son if I spent the whole we
ekend holed up in a suite with a woman?”

  “Back in the day, I would have acted a fool for a honey like that.” He glanced around for his wife. “I still do sometimes. Just don’t tell Ana.”

  “Married or not, she’s way too young for you. Didn’t you just turn forty?”

  “And?” Eddie scratched his bearded chin. “Young girls are the best girls. Their biological clocks aren’t ticking, they don’t have an agenda, and as long as you wine ’em and dine ’em, they’re happier than a married man at a strip club!”

  “Your point is?” Marshall asked, knowing full well what Eddie was getting at, but wanting to hear the construction foreman say it.

  “I have to spell it out?” he retorted, furrowing his bushy eyebrows. “You better jump on that before someone else does! Owen didn’t waste any time stepping to her, and now she’s laughing at his stale jokes.”

  Marshall had been so busy talking to Eddie, he’d lost sight of Sage. His eyes panned the crowd outside of the information center, but came up empty. Huffing vigorously, he increased his pace and climbed to the top of the hill. Hikers stood in clumps, guzzling water, children raced around tables, and tour guides shepherded sightseers through the woods.

  Inside the information center, he combed the main floor for Sage. As he exited the second-floor gift shop, he spotted her in the slow-moving line for the gondola ride. In a fuchsia jacket, and oversize hoop earrings, she stood out like a beauty contestant in a Wal-Mart store. Owen was beside her, a grin on his lips and a hand on the slope of her back. The notorious skirt-chaser had designs on Sage, and though Marshall didn’t like it, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t storm over and pull her away, no matter how much he wanted to.

  There was nothing like a young, spontaneous woman to make a man feel alive. Marshall didn’t know if it was fact or fiction, but he intended to find out.