Quarterback Daddy

by Linda Barrett

  He wanted a drink.

  SHE WATCHED HIM SNATCH two chocolate-chip cookies from the tray, pour himself a tall glass of milk and down it without pause while standing at the refrigerator. Then, he bit into a cookie, the result of her very first attempt at baking. Stunned that he’d consider such frivolous carbs, she watched him chew, pause, then close his eyes—tasting and measuring—hopefully, savoring the flavor. When he finally swallowed and sighed with pleasure, a glow of satisfaction warmed her. Another first for her. She rarely cooked for others, but Dan’s appreciation made her think of trying other cookie recipes she’d found.

  “Delicious,” he said, biting into the second one. “I’ve heard chocolate is a heavenly flavor, and I totally agree.”

  “You probably haven’t had any in ten years,” Alexis said, “so you’re in love with it now. But thanks for the compliment. It means a lot to me.”

  He beckoned with his finger. “Come here a minute.”

  Curious, she went.

  “See that?” he asked, pointing overhead. “Glad you remembered the mistletoe.”

  She hadn’t noticed any mistletoe among the greenery but didn’t argue. Didn’t want to argue. She was tired of being cautious and responsible. Dan had demons, and one day she might well have to confront them. But it was Christmas, and she deserved a reward after this harrowing year. One kiss couldn’t hurt. Could it?

  As soon as his lips touched hers, she knew she’d been fooling herself. One kiss would never be enough. Kissing Dan was everything she remembered from the last time and more. When he held her in his arms, it was the only place she wanted to be.

  “You are much better than any wine,” he murmured, deepening the kiss to an intimacy she’d never known. An intimacy laced with hunger, yearning and need. His need, her need. She met him with a joy she’d never experienced before. A revelation about giving and receiving love.

  In a quicksilver moment, however, a hint of loss pierced her delight. But still, she pressed against him to receive a dozen kisses on her neck, her cheek, behind her ear. Kisses that made her shiver and ignore the future.

  “I want to make love with you,” he whispered, “real love. You’re in my blood, you’re in my mind all day long. Every night, I think about coming home to you—and I can’t wait.”

  He was lonely, she thought. He was a good man, a wonderful man, a man who’d turned his world upside down for the sake of his daughter. A man she now believed had given up the bottle for good. A man who was lonely for his wife. And she loved him.

  “But I won’t break my promise to you,” he continued. “You’re safe in this house. No strings.”

  Her response was instinctive, as natural to her as breathing. “I absolve you of your promise.”

  The warmth in his eyes turned to heat mixed with equal amounts of anticipation and wonder. His hand trembled when he reached for hers. Weaving her fingers through his, she followed him.

  Not to his bedroom where Kim’s picture hung.

  Not to her bedroom across from the baby.

  But up, up to the top floor, to the guest suite with the balcony overlooking the beautiful city.

  “Just for us,” he said quietly, turning on a lamp.

  Relief flowed through her. The suite was virgin territory for both of them in this house. No shadows here.

  When he faced her again, his eyes caressed her, hot and lethal, but he seemed afraid to move. “Ally?”

  She took a single step toward him, his arms opened, and she was there. A shower of kisses rained down on her, and her pulse roared in her ears. There was something about this man that turned her to mush, and she wanted more.

  He eased her onto the bed, and slowly, as if drawing out both the pleasure and pain of waiting, one garment at a time landed on the floor. Hers. His. She was Eve to his Adam, exploring and discovering, as no two people had ever done before them, enjoying everything that made them human. With Dan, she traveled a new road in an exotic world, so much different than the one she’d visited during her failed college love affair.

  “It’s been a l-long time—” What was he doing?

  Her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened as his tongue circled each one and glided across the peaks. Her breath caught in jagged gasps, and her legs became restless. He covered them with his own.

  “It’s more fun this way,” he said.

  Fun? She was dying of pleasure. Especially when he leaned over and breathed his warmth onto the moist folds between her thighs. Tension mounted and coiled inside her. She wanted to burst as he fondled her. “Oh, my…Dan, Dan…”

  “Go for it, sweetheart, go for it.”

  A wonderful idea. She closed her eyes, blocking all distractions. His teasing strokes made her tighter, every gentle breath brought her closer, another brushstroke…and one more…. She was so close…Oh, yes! She erupted. Hit the edge and vaulted over. Tremors racked her body, lifting her from the bed.

  “That’s it, love, that’s it.”

  She heard the joy in his voice, the joy he took in giving her pleasure, and she reached blindly for him, her legs parting. Receiving wasn’t enough. She wanted to give. Give to him what he’d given to her.

  “Come to me, Danny-boy.”

  “I’ll be all yours, in one second.”

  She heard a ripping sound, saw the condom. And then he was all hers, as he’d promised.

  He entered her with care, waited for her signal, for her hips to lift before he thrust a little harder, and a little harder still.

  “Oh, yes.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t pull back…”

  So he thrust faster, and she met him full on.

  Beneath her fingers, the muscles on Dan’s back remained rigid. Tension grew inside her again like a tightly wound spring.

  They exploded together.

  “Touchdown,” he whispered. “With a point-after thrown in.”

  “If this is what a touchdown feels like, I’ll love the game forever.”

  Keep it light, she thought, because forever wasn’t for them. She was a realist. Their relationship would end at some point. It had to. Despite the love for him that grew daily, despite the heat that raced through her with every thought of him, and despite the warmth and affection she received from him, it wasn’t enough.

  She would not become a second Mrs. de Winter, never quite able to replace the first. She wanted no ghostly Rebecca haunting her.

  But she would enjoy the moment, enjoy the attention and care of a man who tried hard to do the right thing for the people in his life, especially for his daughter. Living in the moment was worth the price she’d pay later.

  “I HEAR ALEXIS HATES the game,” said Sean Callan.

  Dan had just gotten out of the shower in the locker room at the stadium and was partly dressed in street clothes when he heard his coach’s voice.

  “Yeah? Who says?”

  “A little birdie.”

  That could describe any of the half-dozen people who had been in and out of Dan’s house since the injury. Dan reached for his pants, pulled them on, straightened his shirt. The source didn’t really matter. Putting out fires did.

  “Sure, Ally got upset about the shoulder, but she doesn’t hate the game.” At least, he didn’t think so. “In fact, she has a new respect for it.” He smiled as he remembered their conversation about touchdowns.

  Ally couldn’t hate the game. Not really. Not when he loved it so much. Football had gotten him through some of the worst times of his life, and he’d enjoyed some of the best times playing the game, as well. Simply staring at a one-hundred-yard field of grass got him excited. Nah, don’t borrow trouble. Ally was overreacting.

  “I hope you know what you’re talking about, Dan. Your recovery has been great, and today’s practice with the line was all we could hope for. We want everything to keep running smoothly. And that includes the thoughts in your head.” The coach stared at him hard. “Know what I mean?”

  Dan knew exactly what he meant. The game was as much
mental as it was physical. Only the tough survived. Well, he’d survived so far, even with a couple of bad detours a few years ago.

  “My head’s in a good place,” said Dan. “She put up a Christmas tree. It was nice.”

  Callan’s eyes bulged. “Nice? Sounds damned serious to me. But if you’ve got any big plans, now’s not the time. We’re looking at some critical football coming up.”

  Dan nodded. He had big plans, all right, and Ally was their name. Their lovemaking had settled his few remaining doubts. Ally was one-in-a-million. Beneath her assertive, firecracker exterior was a heart full of love—for him. And, of course, Michelle. Christmas Day would be a perfect time for a proposal.

  Whistling cheerfully, he headed out for his regular Wednesday evening appointment.

  ALEXIS COULDN’T BEAR TO watch the offensive plays against the Steelers that Sunday during game sixteen. Dan was back at work, involved in every action. Which meant that each time he received the ball from his center, Pittsburgh’s defensive line made his life miserable. They went after him like predators. Sure, it was their job to take him out, to exploit his possible weakness after an injury. She understood that intellectually, but hid her eyes just the same.

  In the family suite at the stadium, she wouldn’t allow the baby to watch, either. It made no sense—Michelle, at five months old, understood nothing—but Alexis didn’t care. Nick, Joe and Larry shook their heads; Rita smiled with understanding and closed her eyes a few times, too, and the younger women just seemed delighted. Alexis knew they were reading a special meaning into her actions. To them, she was the key to Dan’s happier life. She couldn’t help knowing they were rooting for her and Dan as a couple.

  There was no point in disillusioning them before it was necessary. With more football games yet to be played and the holiday festivities demanding attention, everyone was busy enough.

  New England was in the lead at halftime. Dan’s bullet arm was back. His quick ball release to his receivers sailed true, anticipating where they’d be, but Alexis’s nerves were shot. Her clothes were actually damp with perspiration.

  “Hey, Ally. Our boy’s in great shape, so you can relax. Besides, it’s only a game.”

  Since when? Dan’s brother could barely refrain from doing a happy dance, he was so elated with the team’s performance. But she supposed Joe had offered all the comfort he was capable of giving.

  “Relaxing is not that easy,” she said.

  “What if he was a cop? Or a firefighter?” asked Theresa. “You’d have a breakdown every morning.”

  “True.” But she knew a little something about law enforcement. “Do you know which profession has one of the highest, if not the highest, divorce rate?”

  No one replied.

  “Police officer. The regular police force. I rest my case. This is crazy.”

  Dan’s family looked so comically forlorn on hearing this new information that she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She decided to give them a break.

  “The good part is,” she continued with all eyes on her, “that Dan absolutely loves what he does. I know that. It’s just…” She sighed without finishing the sentence. She’d never get used to Dan’s chosen profession. To all the risk.

  “Don’t be scared,” said Mary Ann. “Get mad instead. It’s much healthier.”

  Get mad? At whom? At people who were doing their jobs? Doing what they were paid to do? It didn’t make much sense. It would be like getting angry at teachers for teaching or bartenders who served alcohol. It was their job.

  And that’s what she continued to tell herself throughout the third quarter, each of the three times Dan was sacked and her heart almost stopped.

  At the beginning of the fourth quarter, when New England was up by fourteen, Nick took the seat next to Alexis, stretched his legs and leaned back as though he’d sit for a spell. An unusual sight. Dan’s father spent almost the entire game on his feet cheering, yelling, giving directions, enjoying every minute. Undoubtedly, he had a reason for this personal visit, and Alexis waited.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he began, “that you don’t know much about football—about the game itself or what it takes to get to the professional level. Am I right?”

  She almost laughed. As if she’d had time for football when she was younger. She’d been hell-bent on making the honor roll, looking out for Sherri, outmaneuvering Cal and controlling her anger at Peggy for staying with him.

  Football and other extracurricular activities had been for regular kids, kids with good families, kids who had time for play. They weren’t for kids like her, the ones with chronic stomachaches. None of this was Nick’s business, however, so she kept her response light.

  “You could be right, Nick. I don’t have a brother, so maybe my knowledge of football is superficial.” She bestowed a quick smile on him, and bounced Michelle on her lap. “Why do I have the feeling you’re about to correct that?”

  “Because I am. But we can’t do it all today.” No more lounging for Nick. He sat up straight and looked at her head-on with dark brown eyes so reminiscent of Dan’s. “For today, I just want you to understand one thing, Ally. And it’s the real deal. It’s important.”

  The older man fidgeted and his voice was tight. Whatever he had to say was as serious as the Super Bowl to him. She paid attention.

  “You can teach a quarterback many things, such as making good decisions or dealing with pressure,” said Nick, “but you can’t teach him how to throw the ball just exactly right—it’s an unnatural movement. You can’t teach that quick release that separates a good quarterback from a great one. A man either has the innate talent or he doesn’t.”

  He looked toward the field and pointed at the players. “The great ones are born, Ally. They’re not made.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Understand what I’m saying about my son?”

  He wasn’t bragging. He was giving her facts. Enough information to lift the mist. Her aha moment had arrived. “I think I do,” she whispered. “You’re saying Dan is one of the special ones?”

  “And that’s not a father speaking,” Nick said, confirming her thoughts. “Read about him. About his work, not the gossip.” He reached for his granddaughter and went to watch the game with Rita.

  Ally’s mind raced. Dan’s career was as much a calling to him as music was to Elton John or art had been to Jackson Pollock. It defined who he was. Dan and football were synonymous.

  But why hadn’t she understood that earlier? He’d been with New England for some years now. She was living with the man, for crying out loud. She’d seen how strict he was with himself. Football was his career, and he loved it. Period. It was a fact. She always dealt in facts. What was different in this case?

  Her gaze traveled through the suite and landed on Michelle. Had Alexis hoped he’d give up the dangerous game because he had a precious child now? Yeah, maybe. Maybe she’d hoped against hope that this would be his last season.

  That wasn’t going to happen. So, if she was to remain a friend of this family after she left Dan’s house, she needed an attitude adjustment.

  She rose from her seat and joined the rest of the clan. The team was twenty yards from goal. Dan caught the snap, dropped back, tried to pass the ball and was tackled by five Steelers.

  She clenched her fists. “Get your friggin’ hands off him,” she yelled, ready to pound the glass wall. “You overweight sacks of squalid slop!” Man, that felt good.

  “Whoo-hoo,” cried Mary Ann. “Listen to the classy lady. Didn’t I tell you that mad was better than scared?”

  “And you were damn right.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE BOSTON GLOBE—SPORTS

  Monday, December 24

  DAN’S THE MAN

  SEASON STANDS AT 14–2

  SUPER BOWL FEVER BUILDS

  A flawless performance by Dan Delito yesterday puts the Pats one game away from the AFC’s Eastern Division title. Despite his recent injury, Delito handled an aggressive defe
nse by the Steelers, passing for 259 yards with no interceptions. He ruled the game….

  DAN FINISHED THE ARTICLE, folded the paper and put it on the kitchen counter for Ally, who’d warned him last night not to throw it out as he usually did or she’d order a duplicate subscription. Her threat made an impression. Ally didn’t waste money. She clipped coupons for Maria; she explained her own purchases for the baby to Dan as though she was apologizing. So, two newspaper subscriptions? Very un-Ally-like.

  The story about the game, in fact, was good for his ego and would have gone to his head if it weren’t for his aches and pains. Last night’s had been a tough contest. No doubt about it. Afterward, he’d ridden home with Ally and Michelle and soaked in his own hot tub until he could almost move without groaning.

  He’d been about to get out of the water when Ally showed up in his basement training area and removed her robe.

  Long shapely legs topped with dark silky panties. Above that, a matching silk bra. He sank back onto the hot tub’s bench, perfectly happy to remain where he was.

  “The baby’s down for the night, and I thought maybe you’d like some company,” she said, stepping into the tub.

  “Maybe?” His voice cracked. “There’s no question about it, sweetheart, if the company is you.”

  He watched her blush as she lowered herself slowly into the hot water. “A beautiful mermaid,” he whispered.

  “A funny mermaid,” she said, dimpling up at him, “who doesn’t know how to swim.”

  “Then I’ll teach you. After the season, we can take a vacation. Maybe Florida or the Bahamas.”

  “Well, that would be nice, except for one tiny inconvenience. With some luck, I’ll be working. As in fully employed elsewhere and off your payroll.”

  Not if life followed the path he hoped for. But he didn’t want to argue with her then. Instead, they soaked for a while, holding hands, stroking, touching. Then they showered off the chlorine and explored each other with healing massages. And made love in ways that didn’t require a condom.