I'll Catch You (Kimani Romance)

by Farrah Rochon

  “It’s a new appetizer Deirdre’s trying out for the restaurant,” Torrian answered. “Bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with parmesan cheese. You guys are supposed to let me know what you think.”

  Jared grabbed one and bit into it. “Not bad.” He nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans.

  Cedric reached over and snagged another from the tray that had been set up on the bar next to the game table. “I love being Deirdre’s guinea pig,” he said. “She needs to put together another dozen of these before I can give her a solid answer, though.”

  “I’ll let her know that for next time.” Torrian laughed. “She’s not home tonight.”

  “I thought you said you’d hired another chef to oversee private events at the restaurant,” Theo said, taking a sip of his beer.

  “I didn’t say she was at the restaurant,” Torrian replied. “She’s on a date.”

  Theo’s head snapped up. “A date?”

  “Yeah, a date,” Torrian said.

  “Go Deirdre.” Cedric swigged his beer. “As long as this new guy doesn’t stop her from cooking for us,” he added.

  Cedric noticed that Theo looked as if he were ready to throttle someone. Now that was interesting. He wasn’t the most intuitive guy on the block, but when you played dominoes with a man every other Sunday, you picked up on stuff. He’d suspected Theo had had something for Torrian’s sister.

  “What about you?” It took Cedric a moment to realize Torrian’s question had been directed toward him. “How are things working out with your new agent?”

  Cedric shrugged. “As well as could be expected. We’ve only been working together about a week,” he said. “Other than the obvious drawback, I guess she’ll work out okay.”

  “What’s the obvious drawback?” Jared smacked his domino on the table.

  “If you say something about her not being able to do the job because she’s a woman, I’ll be forced to kick your butt on behalf of my soon-to-be fiancée,” Torrian informed him.

  Cedric rolled his eyes. “I’m not being sexist.”

  “Paige would beg to differ if she were here,” Torrian said. “I’m not being sexist,” Cedric repeated. “Would you have been so quick to jump on David Sage’s roster if he were a woman?”

  “As long as he got me the deal I wanted,” Torrian answered. With a grin he added, “It’s so easy to be self-righteous when speaking in hypotheticals, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, well, my agent trouble had moved way passed the hypothetical stage.” Cedric hadn’t shared the depth of his agent woes with his teammates. For a moment he debated whether he should say anything, but if Payton had been able to find out through the grapevine, he figured the talk would make its way to these guys soon enough. He’d rather they heard it from him.

  “Nobody wanted me,” Cedric admitted. “Payton was my only shot.”

  “Somebody would have taken you on, eventually,” Jared said. “In the end it all comes down to dollars, and you’re worth a lot of them.”

  “I don’t blame you for not waiting for another agent to throw you a bone,” Theo said. “Give Payton a chance. She may surprise you.”

  “She already has.” Cedric recalled their earlier brainstorming session as they watched a replay of today’s game. “She may not have much experience as an agent but she’s sharp, and she knows football.”

  “She’s also fine as hell,” Jared commented.

  “Hey, man, don’t be looking at my agent like that.”

  “What? Everybody’s looking at your agent like that. She’s hot.”

  “How is she doing at her job?” Torrian interrupted, cutting his eyes at Jared. “You two working out okay?”

  “We had our first official meeting today where she laid out her plans. My boys from Philly are out. She thinks they’re no good for me.”

  “I could have told you that.” Torrian snorted. “Those boys didn’t have your back.”

  It took Payton pointing it out for Cedric to fully recognize that the guys from his old neighborhood were basically parasites. The only time they came around was when they needed something or wanted to party hard. They’d done nothing but mooch. Why had it taken him so long to see what was apparently clear to everyone else?

  “She’s also trying to put together a one-day mini-football camp for this community center up in Harlem the Saturday of our bye week,” he said, referring to the weekend during the season when the team didn’t play. “We can use a couple more players to help out.”

  “I’m in,” Jared said. “Only other thing I have planned that weekend is Wood’s engagement party.”

  “Paige and Deirdre are taking care of all of that stuff,” Torrian said. “I have a few coaches meetings that morning, but I’ll try to get out there for a little while and help out. This agent sounds good for you, man.”

  “I’m beginning to think she is.” Cedric nodded.

  “Is that all she is?” Jared asked. Cedric rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, man. Don’t give me that. You can’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

  What the hell did he think Cedric was? Blind? Dead? Of course he’d thought about it. He thought about it at least a thousand times a day. Sometimes, when they were together, it took all he had to concentrate on the words Payton was saying instead of the way her lips formed around them. God, her mouth was sexy. Everything about her was sexy.

  For the past week, whenever he closed his eyes at night, Payton appeared, dressed in that slim skirt and a white shirt with the buttons undone down to her navel. She’d strut toward him in slow motion, her eyes smoldering with the same fiery desire that raced through his veins.

  Then the team would douse him with a jug of icy Gatorade.

  He’d been tortured by the wet-dream-turned-nightmare since last Sunday, the day Payton had conned her way into the Sabers locker room and flipped his world on its side. He had to get a handle on this fascination with her before it ruled him more than it already did.

  Payton had laid the ground rules. Everything between them was to be kept at a purely professional level. His brain knew this, but every other part of his body was clamoring for more.

  “Sounds as if Payton is more of a go-getter than Gus Houseman was,” Torrian said.

  Cedric shrugged off the hit against his former agent. “Gus didn’t have the incentive to do any more for me than what he was doing. He has a roster full of players. The way I see it, Payton has just as much at stake here as I do. I’m her only client. If she doesn’t get me a deal at the end of the season, she may not get any more players to sign with her. She’s going to work hard to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Listen to you, talking like you know about the business side of this stuff,” Jared joked.

  It was Cedric’s turn to flip his teammate the bird.

  “It’s about time you started to take this seriously,” Torrian said. “I’ve been telling you guys you’ve got to be concerned about more than just what’s happening on the field. There’s gonna come a time when you’re not on the field anymore, and you never know when that’s gonna happen.”

  Theo, who had been studying his dominoes as if they held clues to the meaning of life, popped his head up and turned toward the stairs. “Was that the door?” he asked.

  “The door? Man, what’s up with you?” Cedric asked Theo, who’d been silent through much of the conversation.

  “Huh?” Theo shook his head. “Hey, are we done here?” He let the dominoes fall to the table as he rose from his seat. “I forgot I had something to do tonight.”

  “We’re in the middle of a game,” Jared argued.

  “We’ll finish it next Sunday,” Theo returned.

  “We have an away game next week,” Cedric reminded him.

  “Then just finish without me,” Theo said, shoving his arms into his leather coat.

  Cedric glanced at Torrian, who had yet to voice a protest at their prematurely aborted game. Torrian balanced his chair on the two back legs and grinned at Theo.

&n
bsp; “Kick some Cardinal ass next week in Arizona,” Theo said as he jogged up the stairs.

  They all just stared at the empty stairway leading up to Torrian’s first floor.

  “What was that about?” Jared finally asked.

  Torrian shook his head. “I think Theo needs to figure it out for himself.”

  Cedric turned to him. “Have you been hanging out with Obi-Wan Kenobi? Chill out with all this ‘enlightened one’ crap. It’s starting to freak me out.”

  “Shut up,” Torrian drawled. He pushed his dominoes away and nodded toward the pool table. “Playtime’s over. Grab a cue stick. It’s time for me to school you two.”

  Cedric and Jared glanced at each other and nodded. Then they both tackled Torrian to the floor.

  Checking his rearview mirror, Cedric noticed the sun just beginning to rise as he took the exit ramp from I-95. He’d finally discovered the secret to avoiding traffic on this oft-repeated trip: hit the Jersey Turnpike just a few minutes before six a.m. The drive from Manhattan to Woodbridge, New Jersey, had taken him just over an hour. Not bad considering it usually took him two hours to get to the group home where his brother resided.

  Cedric meandered his way through Woodbridge Township, taking in the peacefulness at dawn. At seven a.m. on a Monday morning there would be a sea of humanity clogging the sidewalks of Manhattan, but other than a couple of joggers and the occasional businessman walking to his office, Woodbridge residents were still easing into their weekday.

  He turned into the parking lot of Marshall’s Place. Yesterday, when he’d made his weekly postgame call to his brother, he’d asked Mrs. Bea, the group home’s director, whether he could come in early this morning to see Derek. His upcoming schedule would prevent Cedric from seeing his twin for at least a month.

  When Cedric walked to the steps of the home for the mentally and physically handicapped—which really was a home, not some sterile institution—Mrs. Bea was waiting for him on the porch. Marshall’s Place was named for her own son who’d died of complications from cerebral palsy. She took care of the patients in this home as if they were her own flesh and blood. The small, unassuming facility was touted as the best care center for cerebral palsy patients in the country.

  Cedric had given the press a dozen reasons why he wanted to spend his entire career with the Sabers, but no one knew the one true reason he wanted to remain in New York. Marshall’s Place was the ultimate in caring for patients with Derek’s condition, and the New York Sabers were the closest NFL franchise to Woodbridge, New Jersey.

  Cedric had to remain a New York Saber. There was no other option.

  “Good morning,” Mrs. Bea greeted him from the porch of the group home.

  “Morning, Mrs. Bea. Thanks for letting me come in so early.”

  “You are welcome at any time, Cedric. There is nothing that lights up Derek’s face more than when he sees you, either in person or on the screen.”

  “Did he make everyone in the house watch yesterday’s game?”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Bea nodded. “That’s okay. I’ve got a home filled with Sabers fans.”

  Cedric held the screen door open for her before following her into the large house that had been renovated to accommodate both kids and adults with special needs. Cedric had personally funded several of the renovations himself.

  “Your mother drove up from Philadelphia yesterday,” the director commented in a lowered voice as they made their way through the house.

  “I know. I was hoping she would stay an extra night, but she had to get back to work. She thinks the elementary school will fall apart without its principal.”

  “She’s very dedicated to her students, and to Derek, too. You should have seen him preening as she cheered him on yesterday during his lessons.”

  “So he’s doing better?” Cedric asked.

  “Much better,” Mrs. Bea answered. “He’s been getting less frustrated with his lessons, and the new hydrotherapy sessions are really helping with his motor skills. I think you’ll be surprised when you see him.” She motioned for Cedric to follow her. “He’s already dressed and waiting in the sunroom. I wanted your visit to be a surprise, so I told him he was going into the pool early this morning.”

  Mrs. Bea guided Cedric past the kitchen and down the hallway, where the extra-wide, wheelchair-friendly bedroom doors were still closed. They made a quick left into the sunroom, and Cedric spotted his brother looking out into the vast backyard.

  “Derek,” Mrs. Bea called. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Derek turned his head and his eyes opened wide as saucers.

  “Cedric!”

  “What’s up, buddy?” Cedric greeted, stooping so he could capture his twin in a bear hug. Cedric swallowed past the lump that always formed in his throat whenever he encountered his brother’s unrestrained love.

  Derek worshipped him, which only made Cedric’s guilt that much harder to bear. For years doctors had tried to convince Cedric that he wasn’t the cause of his brother’s condition, but facts were facts. Twenty-seven years ago, when they’d shared a womb, Cedric had stolen nearly all of the nutrients, leaving none for his brother’s brain and body to properly develop. It could have just as easily been him in this wheelchair, living his life vicariously through his brother, the way Derek lived vicariously through Cedric.

  Before Cedric could get a single word in, Derek started a slurred but enthusiastic recounting of every single play of yesterday’s game. As he listened to his brother’s excited monologue, Cedric could only marvel at the strides that had been made in Derek’s condition.

  When he’d first found Marshall’s Place, Derek was listless, bound by the confines of his wheelchair and spending most hours of the day parked in front of the television at the group home he’d lived in back in Philadelphia. Cedric had researched better care facilities for years, and he knew it was a gift straight from God when he’d been drafted by the Sabers and could afford to send Derek to Marshall’s Place.

  Being able to get Derek into this facility was an opportunity for atonement, at least what little he could allow himself.

  As he sat patiently listening to his brother, Cedric knew there was no other option for him. He wasn’t done making up for the damage he’d caused Derek.

  He had to remain a New York Saber. It was as simple as that.

  Chapter 5

  As she made her way through the wide concrete corridor toward the Sabers locker room, Payton mulled over the difference a couple of weeks—not to mention a legitimate reason for being there—could make. The last time she’d made this journey, her knees had felt like water and she’d been sure she would have to financially support Susan Renee after her dear friend was fired for loaning Payton her press pass.

  Today, no one questioned her presence as she entered the Sabers’s sacred domain. Agents were allowed to move freely in and out of the locker room. Payton nodded at David Sage, one of the few fellow agents she’d met and actually liked. He held a cell phone to his ear with his right hand, had another in his left and a third clipped to his belt. David gave her a slight wave as he passed her on his way out of the locker room.

  “One day,” Payton said under her breath. She’d warrant multiple phones one of these days. For now, she was fine with her solitary BlackBerry.

  She spotted Cedric as soon as he exited the shower room, his white T-shirt plastered to his muscular chest.

  Don’t stare. Do not stare.

  “How was practice?” she greeted, triple-dog-daring her eyes to drift below his neck.

  He shrugged a shoulder, which Payton knew would cause all those muscles to ripple even more. She so wanted to look. Pretending the sight of his outrageously sculpted body didn’t affect her was getting harder by the minute.

  “It was good,” Cedric answered, motioning for her to follow him out of the locker room. “We had to stop early so they could repair a part of the field that got messed up during the game this weekend. I hope the city has that water
main fixed by tomorrow. We need to be at our regular practice facility.”

  The Sabers, like every other NFL team, had a separate practice facility with a full-length football field, state-of-the-art weight rooms and everything else needed to help keep their players in tip-top shape. Payton had yet to set foot in the Sabers facility. A major break in the city’s main water line had relegated them to practicing at the stadium for the past couple of weeks, which was inconvenient, since they shared the stadium with New York’s other NFL team.

  “So what’s up with my endorsements? Am I rolling like Tiger Woods or what?” Cedric asked.

  “Ha ha,” Payton drawled.

  “You’re the one who said you were going to land an endorsement deal by the end of today.”

  The grin on his face was nearly as irresistible as that muscular chest Payton was still having a hard time ignoring. She should have known he would throw the overconfident claim she’d made during their postgame brainstorming session in her face. She’d crisscrossed the city, going from storefront to storefront like a door-to-door salesman, determined to make good on her promise.

  And she had.

  “Have you ever eaten at Gianni’s Pizza?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He nodded at a maintenance guy driving a golf cart piled high with shoulder pads. “Matter of fact, we had a couple of pizzas delivered last Sunday night while we played dominoes. There’s one just a few blocks from Torrian’s place.”

  So those were the plans he’d had last Sunday night. Payton didn’t want to explore why knowing he was at Torrian’s instead of on a date was such a relief, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Just the thought of him cavorting with one of the many women he’d been linked to over the years made her chest tighten with unease.

  She needed to squelch this unhealthy fixation on his love life. As long as it did not compromise his image, Cedric was free to date any woman he wanted. Yet even as she said the words to herself, a disturbing weight settled in Payton’s stomach.