Blindsided

by Jami Davenport

  Cranky and out of sorts, he glared around the locker room to make sure no one was trying to analyze his reaction to the coach’s obvious favoritism. The team assumed Tanner had one foot out the door, and most of the guys kept their heads down, too worried about their own jobs.

  Tanner called Emma to tell her he’d be home for dinner rather than staying late into the night as usual to watch film. After all, it was Friday night, and he’d barely seen his beautiful wife in the daylight since training camp started a week ago. He wanted to spend some time with her, not just having sex, but hanging out.

  Grady sat down next to him and pulled on his running shoes. He lived a mile or two from the facility in a waterfront condo and either rode his bike or jogged every day to work.

  “Tough practice,” Grady noted casually as he tied his shoes and sat up.

  “No, shit.”

  “Meyer is hard on you because he thinks you’re under-performing,” his buddy said in a voice only for Tanner’s ears.

  “You think? I’d say he hates me.”

  “Nah, if he hated you, he’d either kick your ass out of here or pretend you didn’t exist. He’s putting a lot of time and energy into making you better, even if it does come across like he’s being overly critical.”

  Tanner doubted Grady’s words, but he let it slide. Meyer’s motives didn’t matter, the end result did. Either he’d be relegated to the bench or be the starter. Tanner had never sat on a bench in his life. He sure as fuck didn’t plan on warming a spot on the sidelines this season.

  “Hey, some of the guys are talking about going clubbing tonight in downtown Seattle. You in?” Grady smoothly changed the subject.

  Tanner stared into his locker. He’d once loved clubbing, loved the hunt, the conquest, not to mention the partying. Now the appeal was gone, which actually surprised him. Instead of feeling left out, he felt like his buddies were the ones missing a good deal with a good woman.

  He should’ve been alarmed at this recent attitude change. Instead, he ignored it like he did anything which disturbed him and buried the reasons in that hidden place he refused to go with the rest of his most personally revealing emotions.

  “Nah, maybe another time.” Tanner pulled on his briefs and shorts and yanked a green Steelheads tank over his head.

  Grady gaped at him as if he’d just announced he was getting a sex change. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Damn.” Grady glanced at Hunter and Cam who stood nearby. “You hear that? The team horndog isn’t going out with us tonight?”

  Hunter smacked Grady on the side of the head. “Yeah, idiot, he’s an old married man. Gotta get home to the little lady.”

  “Watch that, fuckhead,” Grady snarled at Hunter. He turned to Tanner. “Seriously? You’re going home?”

  “Yeah,” Tanner admitted, uncomfortable revealing this new weakness to his buddies.

  “You are whipped, man,” Cam spoke solemnly as if delivering Tanner’s eulogy.

  “Maybe she gives him everything he needs.” Hunter defended Emma, and Tanner was grateful to Hunter for his defense. But then, he knew Hunter took his own responsibilities to his blind sister very seriously, even if he did party with the guys at times.

  Cam and Grady looked at Tanner for confirmation. He didn’t feel like discussing his sex life with these three clowns. He couldn’t admit to looking forward to going home. It’d be so out of character. Besides he was in a hurry. His mouth watered already at the thought of another of Emma’s delicious meals and the hot times afterward.

  “It’s just one season, dickheads. I’ll win the starting spot, get a big contract, and she’ll go on her way with a nice bonus and a Nashville recording contract for her troubles.” Tanner claimed, even though the harsh reality of his marital situation didn’t appeal to him as it once had. He’d been thinking more long-term lately which scared the crap out of him.

  Cam laughed. “Yeah, that’s the guy I know. Still it must kill you to confine yourself to one woman, unless you’re getting a little on the side.”

  Tanner just shrugged, refusing to answer, and reluctant to discuss his private life and Emma.

  Cam pushed on Hunter’s shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m starved.”

  “Emma’s making fried chicken and that woman can cook,” Tanner bragged, knowing these guys would be jealous.

  As one, his wingmen froze, and Tanner realized too late he’d screwed up.

  “We’re in,” Cam said, grabbing his duffle.

  “A home-cooked meal. Hell, ya,” Hunter added with a grin.

  “Show me the food and get out of my way,” Grady said.

  “You’re not invited.” The last thing Tanner needed would be for Emma and these idiots to compare notes about Tanner and his not-so-wonderful past. Only his words didn’t make a dent in his wingmen. He hustled toward the parking lot in hopes of losing them, but they were hot on his heels.

  “I have a business proposition to run by you guys, anyway,” Hunter confided.

  Cam groaned, Grady snorted, and Tanner rolled his eyes.

  “I can’t wait,” Tanner said, not thrilled to hear about Hunter’s latest scheme to make money. He’d give the guy points for creativity, but nothing he’d done business-wise ever panned out.

  “I can,” Cam sighed. “Hang on to your wallet, Tan.”

  Tanner snorted and unlocked his truck door. “See ya at the house. Don’t take your time if you want there to be any food left.”

  The guys scrambled for their cars, while Tanner tore out of the lot so he could warn Emma. He’d never pulled something like this on her. In fact, in the course of their short marriage, they’d never had company for dinner or anything else, except for the disastrous family barbecue. Afraid of what she might say, he pulled over to text a warning. Not waiting for a response, he gunned his truck onto the freeway.

  His phone buzzed in reply, but he didn’t look, afraid she might be pissed. If she was, he’d stand a better chance smoothing her ruffled feathers in person. He stepped on it, driving way too fast, in an effort to get home far ahead of the guys, giving him some time for his special brand of persuasion.

  * * * *

  Emma stared at the text message from Tanner.

  Don’t be pissed. On my way home. Wingmen coming for dinner.

  Pissed? He didn’t know her very well if he thought she’d be pissed about something like that. Inviting his friends home for dinner made her feel as if they were a legitimate couple, not to mention Tanner was coming home before eleven P.M. for the first time since training camp started.

  She texted him back.

  I’m not pissed. A little notice would’ve been nice, but I’m thrilled to have your friends join us for dinner.

  Emma sprang into action. She thawed more chicken, added more red potatoes to the steamer, doubled the salad, and checked their beer supply. Donning a Starbucks apron from the coffee shop, she went to work with a flurry of action which would’ve done Izzy proud.

  Minutes later a pair of strong arms encircled her waist. “Smells damn good,” Tanner whispered huskily in her ear.

  Emma turned in his arms and kissed him soundly.

  He grinned. “I guess you’re not mad?”

  “Mad? Never. I love to cook for crowds. I’m the one who always cooks holiday dinners.”

  “Ah, one more thing I didn’t know about you. You’re an event cook?”

  She nodded. He ran his big hands down her sides and cupped her butt, pulling her against him. She wriggled away and swatted his hands when he tried to grab her again.

  “Later.”

  “Aww, honey, they’ll understand. Why don’t we run upstairs for a quickie? Hell, even better this counter will do just fine.”

  “You’re a—” she struggled for the words.

  “Horndog,” he supplied with one of his trademark grins. “Yeah, that’s the second time I’ve been called that today.”

  Emma frowned. “Who else would call you that?” Immed
iately her brain rushed to multiple conclusions, such as he’d been flirting with another woman or maybe he’d been complaining to the guys about being stuck in a marriage.

  He laughed at her and stole a quick kiss. “You should see the look on your face. The guys called me one and said they couldn’t believe I’d rather come home than go clubbing with them. Until I told them about the chicken, then they were all in.”

  “Oh, okay.” Emma breathed a sigh of relief, as she heard his wingmen pull into the driveway. Tanner wandered off to greet them, as he popped the top off a beer bottle.

  Pretty soon the four men invaded her kitchen, checking pots and peeking in the oven. Emma snapped Tanner’s butt with a towel and threatened the other three. They backed out of the kitchen, laughing like little boys, and rumbled onto the deck to sprawl in lawn chairs. Emma watched them through the kitchen window, as they joked and talked about the team, the players, and the upcoming season.

  She studied Tanner’s face, noticing the changes in him. Tanner approached the things he loved with boyish enthusiasm and tireless energy, including football and sex. His green eyes lit up and his face reflected his passion for the game. Emma could watch him all day, how the muscles in his arms flexed, how he talked as much with his hands as his mouth, and how he laughed with his entire body.

  She’d fallen into a dream, and someday she’d have to wake up. For now she’d wallow in her dream and forget tomorrow existed. She’d never been good with living in the now, preferring to plan her future, but Tanner had taught her to appreciate real time rather than daydreaming about what could be. After all, she couldn’t ask for more than she had right now.

  Except to be a singer, maybe, but that dream took a backseat to being Tanner’s wife. Not that she’d ever given much thought to being a fulltime homemaker. As much as she loved domestic tasks, Emma would finish her last year of school and get her teacher’s certificate because she always finished whatever she started.

  The music might come later post-Tanner when she needed something to look forward to.

  She rubbed her stomach, feeling somewhat ill, and turned back to frying her chicken.

  * * * *

  Tanner enjoyed having his friends over for dinner more than he’d enjoyed his nights of clubbing, which was another revelation to him.

  After dinner, the guys didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. Instead they sat on the deck and drank beer while puffing on cigars. Emma joined them, sitting primly on the edge of the loveseat she shared with Tanner. He wasn’t having any of that. He pulled her next to him, his arm protectively around her shoulders. She resisted for a moment then cuddled up to him, sipping on the same glass of now-warm white wine she’d been nursing since dinner.

  “So,” Tanner said, “tell us about your latest scheme, Hunter.”

  Hunter slipped into his salesman mode, the one he usually reserved for the ladies when he was trying to convince one of them to get naked.

  “Yeah, what is it this time?” Cam said impatiently, rolling his eyes and reaching for another beer.

  Tanner watched Hunter with interest; even Emma sat up straighter.

  Hunter waited, a little too dramatically, and swung his gaze to each one of them. “I’m buying a race horse.”

  “You’re what?” Tanner was pretty damn sure he’d heard him wrong.

  “Buying a racehorse,” Hunter repeated with his usual dead calm manner and undeterred patience.

  “A racehorse? What the fuck for?” Grady frowned at Hunter as if he’d lost his sanity somewhere between the words race and horse.

  “My dad thinks it would be a good investment—“

  “Investment? Maybe write off, but seriously? Are you fucking nuts?” Cam said.

  “No.” Hunter crossed his arms defensively over his broad chest.

  Tanner couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “You know your dad comes up with these crazy schemes which usually involve your money.”

  “Yeah, but I love horses, and I’ve always wanted to own a racehorse.”

  Tanner shook his head. His buddy was a total idiot sometimes.

  “I guess this means you don’t want to go in with me?”

  “You got that right. What do you know about racehorses?” Cam said.

  “Actually, my aunt and uncle have owned racehorses for years. They’ll help me get started.”

  “No, thanks. I don’t have a big contract yet, so no money to waste.” Tanner glanced at Emma for confirmation, only she didn’t respond. Instead she seemed deep in thought.

  “Come on,” Hunter begged, “fifty thousand each. Hell, you idiots get fined more than that in a game or two.”

  “That’s why I need to hang onto my money,” Grady shot back.

  “I think it sounds like fun, Hunter,” Emma said, completely surprising all of them, especially Tanner. She must have lost her fucking mind. He stared at her, feeling like he didn’t know her at all.

  Hunter smirked in satisfaction. “See, buy your little lady here a racehorse, it’d make a nice late wedding gift.”

  “No, it won’t,” Tanner grouched, shooting Emma a warning which he hope she interpreted correctly. She didn’t know about Hunter’s history of failed schemes.

  “I think we should do it.” She smiled sweetly back at Tanner, not deterred in the least by his scowl.

  “Emma. It’s crazy,” Tanner cajoled her, not wanting to start a fight in front of his wingmen.

  “Maybe, but it’d be a good write-off if nothing else.” She rubbed his arm, staring at him with her big blue eyes. Tanner forgot every argument and fell right into her trap. He couldn’t say no, not to those pleading eyes and sweet smile.

  “Fine, if you want a race horse, we’re in.”

  Hunter grinned from ear to ear. “What about you?” He turned to Cam.

  “Fine. Fifty thousand and no more.” Cam narrowed his eyes at Tanner, as if to say this is all your fault.

  “Okay,” Grady complained.

  “What is the name of this horse anyway?” Tanner asked. A man should at least know the name of his fifty-thousand-dollar investment.

  “I haven’t bought him yet. My uncle is going to the big yearling sales in Kentucky next month. He’ll find a horse for us.”

  Tanner shook his head and stared to the heavens. He couldn’t believe what suckers they all were, but seeing Emma smile made it worth losing fifty thousand on a nameless racehorse. She’d burrowed under his skin, maybe even into his heart, and he liked the feeling, even as he feared the end results. They wouldn’t last. He wasn’t a permanent type of guy.

  Emma deserved better than the team horndog.

  Chapter 14—Dropping Back

  Emma took her place in the stands for Tanner’s first preseason game against Denver. To one side of her sat Izzy, Cooper, and Riley, Cooper’s teenage nephew who Tanner had befriended last year. Isaac and Avery took up the other side. All of them wore matching number ten blue-and-green jerseys. The warm Seattle evening was cooled slightly by a soft breeze from Puget Sound.

  Bella was conspicuously absent, but she’d been distant ever since the wedding. Emma assumed it was a classic case of I don’t want Tanner, but I don’t want anyone else to have him either.

  She’d get over it. She always did, and Bella could be a bit of a drama queen when things didn’t go her way or the attention was directed elsewhere.

  Surprisingly nervous, Emma resisted the urge to bite her fingernails. She knew how important each preseason game was to Tanner. At least he’d confided in her regarding one crucial piece of his life. She rubbed her stomach, feeling positively sick with worry, not about Tanner getting injured, but more about him not performing well enough to win the starting position. She believed in his talent, his tenacity, and his determination, but she wasn’t so certain about the mental portion of his game. Despite all outward appearances of an overly confident guy, he was wracked with worries he wasn’t good enough.

  He’d endured two years of losing, partially his fault, partially due to circu
mstances out of his control. Last season the fans, tired of losing season after losing season, started booing him whenever he threw interceptions or fumbled. The constant criticism from coaches, fans, and the press eroded his confidence to an all-time low. Heck, it would anyone’s. Not that he’d necessarily told her any of this, but she’d seen his steady decline since his first pro football game. As a faithful fan, Emma had watched every game with her heart in her throat, praying for Tanner to find his zone again, but God had better things to do than worry about football, and he never answered those prayers.

  Tonight’s game kicked off a different season, different ownership, different coaches. They engendered a more positive environment, one in which Emma hoped Tanner would thrive. Even the fans sensed the difference. The stands, while not sold out, were fuller than she’d seen them in the past couple years as a Steelheads fan. A buzz of excitement ran through the crowd. Even with her nerves on full alert, Emma felt herself getting caught up in the moment.

  Her marriage had settled into a routine over the past few weeks. Tanner called and texted during the day, came home late at night, they made love, and the next morning, the routine started all over again. Being married to an NFL player wasn’t glamorous or exciting, necessarily, but Emma never complained about the sacrifices they made for his career. She’d do the same—if she had a career. She’d put her life on hold for him, even quit her waitress job. Not because he’d insisted, but because she’d joined the players’ women’s group and taken an active role in their charity work. Between their meetings, her last quarter of school, and decorating their home, she didn’t have time for the minimum-wage job. She still sang karaoke on Wednesday nights and party-crashed with her sisters, which Tanner didn’t necessarily like, but he didn’t protest either, at least not too much. Emma was approaching a crossroads in her life, and until she reached it, she couldn’t map out her future, a fact which gave her both anxiety and hope.