After All These Years (One Pass Away #2)

by Mary J. Williams

  “Thank you for speaking up for me,” Riley said.

  Claire patted her knee. “What are friends for?”

  It was a good question. One that, until recently, Riley thought she knew the answer. However, thanks to Claire and Racine, the definition of friendship had taken on a wider scope.

  It was nice to have someone to call up for lunch or a few drinks. This was deeper. Too often the word friend was thrown around with a casual ease. Riley hadn’t realized how important a deep connection to another woman was.

  Until now.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE KNIGHTS LOST their second game of the season on a snowy night in Denver.

  Road games were always tricky. Odd start times. Strange beds. Routines knocked out of whack. Then there was the wild card. The weather.

  Riley watched the game from the comfort of her soft, comfy sofa. It was raining. A soggy, cold, early November afternoon. She hadn’t felt like going out or having company. She ordered in beef barley soup and a side of garlic bread. Opened a can of diet root beer and snuggled under her favorite comforter.

  She expected a win. She could have lived with a loss. Unfortunately, the game didn’t simply slip away in the final minutes because of an iffy call by one of the officials. Kyle Trenton sustained a season-ending broken leg.

  Riley didn’t give a thought to her antagonistic encounter with Lynette. That had been a few weeks ago. A different time. A different situation. The woman’s husband had been injured playing for Riley’s team.

  Rushing to her desk, she took out the player directory that contained everyone’s home number.

  Then she grabbed her phone and dialed.

  “What?”

  Under the bark, Riley could hear the tears in Lynette’s voice.

  “How are you, Lynette?”

  “My husband is in a Denver hospital. He’s over a thousand miles away and I can’t get a flight out until tomorrow. How do you think I am?”

  “Do you have someone who can stay with your children?”

  “My mother is here.”

  “Good. Pack a bag. I’ll send a car. By the time you get to the airport, there will be a private plane waiting to take you to Denver.”

  “Really?” The sound of Lynette blowing her nose made Riley wish she was there to hand her a tissue.

  “You and Kyle are family. This is what we do.”

  “Thank you. I… Thank you.”

  “Have a safe flight.”

  Riley hung up. She had done everything she could. Kyle’s treatment and recovery were out of her hands. However, if the Trenton family needed anything, she planned on making sure they got it.

  IT FELT LIKE a typical Monday morning. The rain fell in cold, windy streaks against her bedroom window. All Riley wanted to do was stay in bed with Sean. Never mind their responsibilities.

  From the moment Sean arrived at her door last evening, the rest of the world ceased to exist. Nothing could shatter their self-made cocoon unless they let it.

  Almost nothing.

  “I can’t believe your father gave you grief.”

  “He blustered,” Riley corrected, her head resting on Sean’s shoulder. The mention of her father took a little shine off the morning “It’s a company plane. I had every authority to use it. His only recourse was to emphasize, in rather a colorful use of language, how much he disapproved.”

  “Asshole.”

  Riley couldn’t argue.

  “He’ll never change, Sean. You need to understand that.”

  “Are you warning me off?”

  The laughter in his voice should have been a good thing. Riley sighed. Unfortunately, it meant Sean didn’t understand.

  Loving a man at a distance wasn’t easy, but it had one advantage. Her parents weren’t an issue when being with Sean had been a long shot. A dream she made herself stop believing would come true.

  Now, he was a solid, honest-to-goodness part of her life. Which made Gerald and Corrine Preston a shadow she couldn’t ignore. They were petty and vindictive. Eventually, some of it was bound to spill onto Sean.

  The thought made Riley sick to her stomach.

  “I wish you could have known my grandfather. He was the anti-Gerald.”

  “He loved you.”

  Riley nodded. “And showed me every day.”

  “I’ve heard stories. Coach Colman knew him. I can count on one hand the number of people Coach speaks about with reverence. Your grandfather is one of them.”

  “He made a deep impression on everyone.”

  Sean kissed her, loosening the knot in her stomach. She felt warm and safe. What they were building was good. Solid.

  Maybe she made too much of her father’s looming presence. Riley had the memory of her grandfather. Sean grew up with loving parents. She had to stop looking for trouble and simply enjoy precious moments like this one.

  “Film.” Sean kissed Riley’s neck. “Study.” His lips moved to her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver of sexual awareness through her body. “Work.”

  “None of those words make sense,” Riley insisted. She slid her hand down his chest. “Kisses and erection? Only a big tease would start something he didn’t intend to finish.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  It was slow. Mellow. Riley floated through a clear, warm sea of emotions. She lay back and let Sean spin a masterful combination of technique and natural ability around her body. The man loved what he was doing and it showed. No part of her was neglected.

  It was a slow build. Riley clutched at the sheets, moaning Sean’s name.

  “God. When you call out to me, it sings in my blood. Say my name.”

  “Sean.”

  “Again.” He kissed her. So sweet and undeniably erotic.

  “Sean.”

  Riley sailed. She closed her eyes and swore that she was flying—over the edge into blissful oblivion.

  Sean. My Sean.

  “YOU NEED TO see this.”

  Sean sighed when Gaige passed him his phone.

  “More pictures? It’s been two weeks. I thought we were done with that shit.”

  “More like a lull before the next wave.”

  “I’d like to pulverize the person behind this. It isn’t fair that most of this continually falls on Riley.”

  “Look at the picture, Sean.”

  The words that came out of his mouth were extreme—even for an NFL locker room.

  “This is bullshit, Gaige.”

  “Okay.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Incredulous, Sean advanced until he and his best friend stood toe to toe. “It. Is. Bullshit.”

  Sean was accustomed to seeing photographs of himself. In the United States, football was king. If a man played the game, he received a lot of attention. If that man played at a superstar level and looked like Sean, the attention was multiplied by a thousand.

  As a young man, he craved the attention. Encouraged it. He dated the most beautiful women and frequented the hottest clubs because he knew it would add to his image as a player—on and off the field. Sean wasn’t ashamed of his past. He’d had a damn good time.

  However, he knew his reputation made the picture of himself and Ava Stanhope locked in a passionate embrace, harder to explain away.

  “I haven’t seen Ava in months. The last time, I was with Riley.”

  “I’m not accusing you, Sean.” Gaige shook his head. “If you say it’s an old picture, I believe you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The world doesn’t care if you screw every woman in sight. They love your playboy reputation. I wouldn’t care. If you weren’t dating Riley. She’s the one who will have to deal with the blowback. Again.”

  “I need to get to her. Immediately.”

  Sean grabbed his jacket and was halfway out the door when Rob Cotter called out.

  “I knew the choir boy routine was just an act, McBride. One woman is never enough for long.”

  When Sean stopped, his shoulders
stiff, Gaige shoved him out the door.

  “Go. I’ll take care of that asshole.”

  When he was certain Sean was gone, Gaige slowly turned. His teammates recognized the steely glint in their QB’s green eyes. One by one, they cleared the path, not wanting to get between him and Rob Cotter.

  “You have a big mouth, Rob.”

  “Since when is McBride off limits to some harmless teasing?” Rob knew he had gone too far, but he wasn’t willing to back down in front of the other Knights.

  “See these?” Gaige held up his hands. Big. Strong. With long fingers and wide palms. Perfect for holding a football with ease—or doing serious damage to another man’s face. “Tools of my trade. I can’t afford to break a bone teaching you right from wrong.”

  “Jesus,” Rob snorted. The bravado he tried so hard to cultivate was fading. Fast. “I’m not a rookie who needs Papa Gaige’s sage advice.”

  “Then pull your head out of your ass, Cotter. Look around. Every man in this locker room is on a mission. A team. Moving as one, with the same goal. Why the hell are you determined to be the weak link? Why don’t you want to win?”

  “I do,” Rob grumbled.

  However, what Rob wanted—needed—even more, was money. He had a gambling habit, two ex-wives, and a career hanging by a thread, unraveling with every passing second. Maintaining a rah, rah attitude wasn’t easy when he was surrounded by younger, more talented players. Gaige Benson and his buddy Sean McBride were on the top of Rob’s shit list. Was it any wonder he took every opportunity to be a burr under their overpriced saddles?

  “Here’s my advice.” Gaige looked him directly in the eye. “I suggest you take it. Riley Preston is off limits. Correction. All women are off limits.”

  “Excuse me? All women? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Simple. You have a knack for saying the wrong thing about the wrong person. You never know who might be dating the woman you’ve singled out. Save yourself a fat lip. Keep your opinions, good or bad, to yourself.”

  “Locker rooms aren’t supposed to be PC, Benson,” Rob called out. Gaige was already out the door. Looking around for support, Rob found none. “Come on, guys. When did we become Boy Scouts? We’re football players. That used to mean crude and rude.”

  “You heard Gaige. You can call him and Sean anything you want. Just lay off the ladies. Unless it’s a Kardashian.” Sol looked around. “Kardashians are safe. Right?”

  “I kind of like Khloe,” one of the guys called out.

  “Really? Huh.” Sol shrugged. “Well, there’s no accounting for taste. Play it safe, Cotter. If it involves a woman, keep your thoughts to yourself, locked away inside that pea brain of yours.”

  Rob’s temper spiked to a dangerous level. It wasn’t easy to keep it tamped down until he was alone, but he managed it—barely. The inside of his truck took the brunt of his displeasure. A mile from the stadium he pulled over and proceeded to annihilate everything in sight.

  Rob took a crazy kind of pleasure in destroying the seats, tearing at the upholstery until bits of foam padding littered the floor. The truck could be repossessed at any time. Unlike many of his teammates, no one gave him a slick ride to tool around in. He had to pay for it with his own hard earned money. He was a football player, Goddamn it. He shouldn’t have to pay for anything. It was the dealership’s fault. If they had given him the truck, they wouldn’t have to worry about what it looked like. Rob ripped off the rearview mirror, smashing it to bits. Good luck reselling this baby.

  Rob was in such a rage he almost missed the phone call. He was about to let it go to voicemail. Then he had a thought. Maybe it was one of his bitch ex-wives. He could kill two birds with one stone. Burn off some of his frustration, and put the bitch in her place.

  “What now? Need more of my money?”

  “No. I have plenty of my own.”

  Rob gripped the phone. Not an ex. Sweat from his exertions rolled down his face unnoticed. “Who the hell is this?”

  “A friend.”

  “That’s rich.” Rob didn’t have any friends. That scene in the locker room proved that.

  “Would you like to be?”

  “I don’t know or care what you’re talking about, asshole.” Rob was about to hang up. His head hurt and he needed a drink—not riddles that made his already taxed brain hurt.

  “Rich. Would you like to be?”

  Slowly, Rob’s thumb moved away from the keypad. He licked his lips.

  “Who is this?”

  “The man who can make all your money problems disappear. I can set you up on easy street for the rest of your life.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

  The man laughed. “Nothing is free. It’s up to you to decide how high a price you’re willing to pay.”

  Rob could hear his mother’s voice. The devil lurks around every corner, Robert. Be strong. Be good. God will reward you in heaven. Rob hadn’t listened as a child and he wasn’t listening now.

  A life of ease and luxury? Hell yes. For that kind of guarantee, he would do anything the devil wanted, short of taking demonic cock up the ass. Rob laughed. Shit, he was desperate. At this point, he might consider a sulfur-infused sperm enema. If the payoff was big enough.

  Eyes narrowed, Rob’s thumb caressed the side of his phone.

  “How much? And how soon can I get it?”

  FINDING RILEY TURNED out to be easier said than done.

  His calls went directly to voicemail. According to Stuart, the doorman at her building, she wasn’t home and hadn’t been all day.

  Sean called Claire. His reception was chilly, her frosty voice almost freezing his ear. Because he knew she cared about Riley, Sean took the time to tell his side of the photograph. By the time he hung up, Claire seemed convinced of his innocence.

  Riley’s whereabouts was still a mystery.

  He couldn’t call her parents. They were the last people who would know what Riley was up to. Nor did he want to give them any ammo to use in future battles.

  Gerald and Corrine Preston had spent most of Riley’s life either ignoring her or throwing roadblocks in her path. They would have no interest in helping smooth over a bump in their daughter’s personal life.

  Sean was nearing panic mode. A woman with Riley’s resources could be anywhere. Chicago. New York. Boston. Halfway to China. A passport and limitless money meant if Riley wanted to hide, his chances of finding her were not good.

  Somewhere between beyond calculation and no fucking chance.

  He leaned against his car, wondering what was going on in Riley’s head. She’d seen the picture. Who hadn’t? Right now, the social media world was having a field day. Football superstar plus supermodel plus owner’s daughter equaled blogger’s heaven.

  Sean didn’t care about the speculation. He cared about Riley. Rubbing his face, he sighed. There was no point in mincing words. What he felt was way beyond caring or wanting. Lust? Definitely. However, a man didn’t feel like this about a mere sex partner.

  For the first time in his life, Sean McBride was in love. Head over heels, no coming back, until the end of time, love. And wonder of wonders? He didn’t want to run.

  Sean loved Riley.

  Damn. Five years ago, who would have predicted that? The kid had grown up. And he wasn’t talking about Riley. When it came to maturity, she had always been years ahead. Slowly, with a touch of reluctance, Sean had finally caught up.

  Even a year ago, he hadn’t been ready for her. Now that he was, would his wild past ruin his chances with the woman who had shown him what love was about?

  “Excuse me? Mr. McBride?”

  Sean turned. A small boy, maybe seven years old, stood at his side. His expression was a combination of excited and terrified. In one hand he held a pen, a white jersey in the other. In big black letters, McBride was sewn on the back.

  “Hey.” Sean pushed away his unhappy thoughts. Smiling, he crouched to the boy’s level. “What do you have there?”
<
br />   “I—Mom?”

  “It’s okay, Tad.” She patted her son on the shoulder. “Ask Mr. McBride for his autograph.”

  “Tad? May I sign your jersey?”

  With a shy nod, Tad handed him the shirt. Sean understood how much a moment like this meant to a boy. He grew up idolizing Jerry Rice. When they finally met, it was everything Sean hoped it would be.

  Sean had a duty to the boy, and all his fans. It didn’t matter what crap rained down on his personal life. It was up to him to make this moment something Tad would look back on with fondness for the rest of his life.

  He spent five minutes pulling Tad out of his shell. When he and his mother walked away, they grinned from ear to ear. In addition to the autograph, Sean gave the boy a poster from the stash he always kept in his trunk. And promised to have tickets waiting at the box office next Sunday for Tad and his entire family.

  Feeling a little better about the world in general, Sean used his phone to send his assistant a message about the tickets. That was the best five minutes he’d had since leaving Riley that morning.

  Taking a deep breath, Sean was about to call her again when his phone rang.

  “Claire. Any news?”

  “She’s at Providence Hospital. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Hospital? What happened? Is she all right? Claire? Claire!”

  Wild-eyed, Sean hit redial while fumbling with his keys. He had the car started before he realized Claire was not picking up.

  “Fuck!” he yelled. Checking the address, Sean tossed his phone on the seat. A quick programming of his GPS and he shot out of the parking lot.

  Was Claire on the way to the hospital and couldn’t talk? Or was she trying to torture him, making his brain dream up the worst scenarios possible? Sean didn’t care. He needed to get there as quickly as possible.

  As it turned out, the hospital was surprisingly close. Sean ran a few stop signs without a thought of the consequences. For once, the streets were clear of traffic and police cars.

  Briefly, Sean considered leaving his car at the emergency entrance but thought better of it. He found an empty parking spot that had just been vacated. He estimated the distance from here to the entrance to be about half a football field. Piece of cake. He was in the hospital in a flash. His breathing was normal, but his heart rate was through the roof with anxiety.