“I’m going to post naked pictures on FB of anyone who takes a shot of us in lavender,” Zak said.
“As a matter of fact, gents, leave your cell phones behind so you won’t be tempted to do something really stupid,” Coop demanded. “That’s not optional. It’s an order.”
That was never a guarantee, but Alex was glad he requested it. Ladies and alcohol and being away from home made for one dangerous combination.
Just before he lay his phone down, he noticed he’d gotten a text from Sydney.
Did you arrive safe and sound?
He answered back, yes, ma’am. Then he turned his phone off and left with the group.
Chapter 8
‡
Sydney was going to run over to one of the local beaches to check out a tournament that was nearing a close when she got a call from her girlfriend, Carly.
“Hey, Syd. I’ve been thinking about your offer. Maybe we can have a shot.”
“Seriously?” Sydney was elated. Carly had been a competitor in college, but they’d become close friends. They’d played together in a couple of side tournaments before Leah was free, and they worked well together. “Let’s try it.”
“You haven’t found anyone yet?”
“No, and Leah’s looking doubtful. I hired Jack to help me train. We’re scheduled to do a mixed tournament next month. I haven’t done one in nearly a month.”
“Ouch. Sounds like me. We’ll have some work to do, then. So, when I get back to San Diego later in the week, let’s talk.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m living with my old my roommate, you remember Jenn?”
“I do. The soccer player?”
“That’s Jenn. Got herself coaching junior high girls here. I came up for a little R & R, and, well, I got hooked on the area and started coaching high school girls and now some Club ball. I thought about your offer, and I think I’d like to try it. I think it might work, but we need to talk first.”
Sydney couldn’t believe her luck. “Of course. That’s way cool. When will you be back?”
“A couple of days, maybe longer, but I think I’ll head down Thursday at the latest. Can you wait that long for our sit-down?”
“Shoot, I’ve been looking for three months now. You were my first choice, Carly.” On a whim, she asked, “Where do you live now?”
“Little town up here called Healdsburg. Sonoma County.”
Sydney’s pulse quickened. “Is that near Santa Rosa?”
“Yup. Just a couple of towns up the freeway from there. I train in Santa Rosa.”
“Want some company? Or, would I be intruding?”
“You? Come up here? You’re kidding, of course.”
“No.” She tried to tone down her eagerness.
Breathe! Are you completely nuts, Sydney? Think about this!
“I think Jenn would be cool with it.”
“I’ll stay at a motel. No worries.”
“God, Sydney, you seriously want to come all the way up here?”
“Why not?” Of course she had some nagging doubts about what Alex would think. And how the heck would she even find him? It would be a needle in a haystack unless she called him.
After another shower, her second after her first steamy one with Alex that morning, she examined the tousled sheets on her bed. She dropped her towel and stood naked in the afternoon sunlight, staring down at the evidence of their exciting romp together.
There hadn’t been enough talk, she noted. Probably too much sex, although he didn’t seem to mind that her need had been off the charts last night and this morning.
I’ll blame it on the Junior Mints and the caffeine.
She sat, spreading her hand over the comforter, smoothing the lines and wrinkles, then pulling it up tight. She picked up the pillows, put them both to her face one at a time and inhaled his scent, getting lost in the sensory memory of how his body felt next to hers. After the fluffing was completed, she replaced them in their respective slots.
Did men know they left a scent? It was as distinctive as perfume on a different woman or cologne on a man. She knew it was biology. Somewhere inside her sensitive body was a delicate scale that measured and weighed everything. Along with the taste of his mouth, the feel of his touch and the sound of his breathing, his manly scent was part of what she would miss. And now craved.
Stop it, Sydney. This isn’t you. But unlike other times, she just couldn’t get Alex out of her mind. Though the encounter had been intense, it was still way too short.
This wasn’t fair. She doubted men had the same bodily mechanism as women did. She’d heard someone give a lecture in college about how natural selection gave off the pheromones that in ancient times told a woman the man she was attracted to would pleasure her greatly and give her healthy children. This would happen long before the first kiss, but was sealed with the taste of him on her tongue. Was it something every woman thought about like she did? That first kiss was the clincher. “The taste of the other,” her professor had said, “becomes the total object of the female’s desire. When he is no longer the other but recognized as home and hearth and part of the woman’s protection, they are truly joined as one. It’s not sex. It’s biology. The will to build the species.”
It was a concept she believed in, though had never experienced herself until now. Most of her life, in relation to men, she was busy making sure she was in control, making sure she was protected in case they let her down. Making sure she would not only survive, but come out on top. She was into taking chances, but not if the price was too high. And after all that, she made it sport. The sport of it became the frosting on top, made it fun.
She threw on her clothes, slipping on her well-worn workout shoes last. At the bottom of the closet was her weekend bag. She stared down at it in the shadows, half covered by a long dress hanging overhead. Stooping, she picked it up, examined its empty belly, and then threw it on the bed, as if it had burned her hands.
No Sydney. This isn’t wise.
Her inner mother was scolding her as she grabbed several pairs of underwear from her top dresser drawer, several T-shirts, sports bras and bras. One lacy one in black. A black nightgown she only wore in mixed company.
No. No. No.
Her toilet kit, favorite brush, two baseball caps, two pairs of sunglasses, extra suntan lotion, a pair of flats, a sweater and one dress—left on the hangar, still encased in the plastic wrap from the cleaners.
She checked her Apple Watch. It was barely two o’clock. She’d driven to San Francisco once in a hurry in less than six hours. One to two hours more and she’d be in Sonoma County. She could find a place to stay, have a good meal and plan for her meet with Carly tomorrow.
With the tournament coming up, it isn’t wise. Stay home and train, her inner mother shouted.
But it isn’t one of my qualifying tournaments, just something to keep in shape, something to help my mindset, which is pretty focused right now, she argued. She knew she was justifying something that made no logical sense. Because it wasn’t logic. It was something else.
Your future on the pro circuit is a figment of your imagination unless you get your body in shape, Sydney.
She knew it was true, but she continued to pack anyway.
This mixed doubles tournament was with an old coach of hers who she later became involved with in college. Although competitive, the only thing Sydney had to concern herself about was him keeping his hands to himself. Even his new wedding ring seemed to make little difference to him. He was a player and was still playing, even though married. He would never change, even though he had helped her train in the past. Now, without a partner, she needed his expertise because he knew her ability better than anyone else on the circuit. He knew what a competitive machine she was, what her strengths and weaknesses were. It was worth it to put up with a little of his BS. She was focused on the game and hoped he would be as well. Maybe he’d agree to coach the both of them. Her partnering with Carly solved more than
one problem.
Again, Sydney, you’re justifying. You’re going to have to make a stand with him.
She nodded. “Yes. I can handle him. I can handle anyone. I’ll deal with it later.”
She zipped her bag up, determined to go on that road trip. If she ran into Alex, would he understand or would it scare him away? She knew it was a risk.
What are you doing, Sydney? Stop. Just stop right now and think.
“I can do this. I’m focused on the goal. I just have to make sure I keep it between the lines. She was taking a risk, stepping outside her normal routine for a chance at something she’d just had a taste of. Was it wrong to go after that chance or forever regret not doing so? That was something she wasn’t willing to do.
She slung her bag over her shoulder.
At the doorway, she turned and took a look at her pink trophy room, as she’d always called her bedroom. Now she saw it for what it was. It wasn’t her future. It was her past.
The top was down on her Murano, and as the sun began to sink low in the horizon, it began to get cold. Several times she’d had the same nagging doubts she was doing the right thing. She considered calling Alex several times, but restrained herself.
She turned on the heated seats as she descended into the Bay Area. Approaching and then driving through Palo Alto, she recalled competing in tournaments at San Jose State and Stanford. She’d spent time as an Olympic hopeful at a training camp there two years ago, and had earned a bid to try out for the US Women’s Volleyball Team. Of course she was disappointed when she wasn’t chosen even as an alternate. But now she was free to go after the lucrative sponsorships the pro Beach Volleyball circuit had to offer.
Crossing the Golden Gate bridge at sunset was a treat she hadn’t expected. The red steel contrasted with the darkening blue of the sky and the gray fog beginning to roll in. Looking west, she saw the Farallon Islands.
That means luck will be on my side.
To the right, a long container ship was making its slow way out of the mouth of the bay. The little boats were returning to shore, a couple of tour boats still hovered around Alcatraz for a few more stolen minutes.
Through the Rainbow Tunnel she held her breath, just as she had done as a little girl when her dad would drive her in his convertible to a volleyball camp somewhere up north. She’d grown up tall and very quickly. He called her his little giraffe.
She allowed herself a few tender memories of the happy days that existed before her father had taken ill.
Her phone chirped. It was Jack. She looked for evidence of a Highway Patrol, then carefully installed her earpiece and answered.
“Hi, Jack.”
“You up for dinner? Thought we could make a workout plan for the next couple of weeks. I’m free. Barb’s at her sister’s.”
“Sorry. I’m on my way to do a little scouting. I’m already in San Francisco.”
“San Francisco? Who are you checking out?”
She wasn’t going to tell Jack until she’d had the talk with Carly. “Actually I’m meeting an old friend from college. She knows some ladies who are looking. Haven’t met them yet.”
“Uh-huh. Okay, then. How long will you be gone?”
“Oh, just two maybe three days. Not long.”
“Sounds like you’re driving.”
“Of course! Gives me time to think.”
“Just wish you’d think a little more about us.”
Her belly clenched. “Jack, there is no us.”
“Well, there sure used to be. You ever dream about those days?”
She was about to hang up on him. “That was a long time ago and never should have happened. You were my coach.”
“Former coach. Sydney, I’m still a good coach. You never give me a chance.”
“You promised, Jack. Remember? You bring this shit up and I walk. Remember that promise you made?”
The other end of the line was silent. She didn’t work to fill the air space, making it easy on him. She had to be tough with him or he’d never stop going after her.
He finally sighed. “Okay then. Let me know when you’re on your way home. And be safe. I’ve got some big plans for the summer. You’ll love them.”
“Will do, Jack. Give my best to Holly.” She hung up before Jack could react to the fact that she knew Holly McGiver, the six-foot-seven middle from UCLA was his current flame.
She’s probably on a recruiting road trip with her team.
Even if Sydney had been interested in Jack, she wasn’t going to be his or anybody’s number two or three. She was only interested in being a number one.
Sydney arrived in Santa Rosa after it had gone dark outside. Taking a motel downtown, she put the top back up and carried her things to the room. She had her third shower of the day and sat naked on the bed. Her hand hovered over her cell phone, as if some secret power would lift it up to her palm.
She texted Alex. Did you arrive safe and sound?
The answer came right back. Yes ma’am.
She asked him another question. Having fun? How are your friends?
She waited for several minutes. When the answer didn’t come, she turned off her phone and tucked herself into bed. The cool, unfamiliar sheets felt soothing to her skin as she made a mental list of all the things she’d need to do tomorrow.
Would it be fortunate or unfortunate to run into Alex? Would he be happy to see her? Then the import of her decision hit her.
What if Alex was up here to meet someone else? Could there be another lady in his life?
Chapter 9
‡
The party was in full swing when the SEALs entered the reception. They were spotted immediately. Alex and several others had dance partners who’d had a lot to drink. Coop declined all invitations, as did Zak and Lucas, but the bachelors were in clover. Mark found Nick. He and Luke stood in the corner laughing at the spectacle of members of SEAL Team 3 in lavender shirts, while Coop, Zak, and Lucas hit the chow line.
Alex became extremely self-conscious when someone began taking pictures. He hoped it hadn’t leaked out who they were and what they did for work. He looked for Devon but couldn’t find her in the undulating crowd.
The next set was a slow dance, and he found himself holding up a pretty blonde in a bridesmaid’s dress. She peered up at him dreamily.
“You a friend of Brandy or Josh?”
He could tell she was having difficulty talking. Her balance was off as well, and soon her chest pushed into his. She hung onto his shoulders and then slipped one arm down around his waist. Alex could hardly move. He was literally dragging her across the dance floor.
“I think you need to have a seat, Missy.”
“Oh, such a gentleman!” She giggled in his arms and lost her balance again.
“Let me help you. I think you’ve had a little too much champagne.”
“Yup. Guilty.” She winked at him, but her other eye didn’t focus at all. “You’ve heard the story, ever a bridesmaid, never a bride. That’s me.”
He thought perhaps she’d start to cry on him. He searched for a chair nearby before she started to resist him.
“No. I wanna dance.” She tried, and this time was successful at righting herself before she pressed her body tightly against his. “I got myself a handsome young stud. I intend to take full advantage of it. Make all my pretty girlfriends jealous.” She gave him a sheepish grin. Alex chuckled.
“You’re pretty.”
“You think so?” She still had a tinge of Texas in her accent, but it had been stomped out by years of living in California. She batted her eyelashes at him, raised one eyebrow, and licked her lips. Without warning, she leaned backward and Alex had to bend quickly to catch her before she hit the floor. He righted her, with effort, and was grateful he hadn’t strained his back. Several of the other ladies on the dance floor squealed and came over. Alex felt like a tree covered in butterflies.
“Again,” said one ginger-haired little thing.
“Yes! We wa
nt to see it again,” said another.
Alex’s dance partner gave him a wicked stare, albeit still not focusing or making eye contact. “He’s all mine,” she said and then collapsed against his chest again. “Hands off. You’re too late.” She regained her balance and twirled in his arms, winding up with her back and considerably sized rear pressing against his groin. But it was the position of his hands that drew the attention from the crowd. Both palms were on her breasts. “He’s mine, girls!” She threw her arms in the air so they could see her total surrender. Alex quickly adjusted his grip on the drunk blonde, while still propping her up. Their audience melted into the crowd, but the whole room was looking at him in his lavender T-shirt.
Alex scoured the room for one of his team buds and at last found Jake, who immediately understood the situation and sprang into action.
“So, do you think I’m sexy, Mr. Body Builder? God, would you look at those arms? You lift weights for a living?” She’d gripped his biceps, stubbornly not moving her feet.
Alex used what little balance he had left to lift her off the ground and deposit her in a chair. When Jake arrived to assist him, the girl looked between the two of them.
“I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven.” She blinked several times, waiting for a response.
Just in time, Nick arrived. “I’ve got it, boys. Sorry about that,” he whispered under his breath.
“You want me to get Devon, or someone?” Alex asked.
“Go get the bride, if you can find her. You’re one of the bridesmaids, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he said to the girl.
The blonde was enjoying the sight of now three handsome men in front of her.
“Lordy, I just cannot believe my luck.” She fluffed her hair up and began to focus on Nick.
Alex tore through the dance floor, scoured the sides for something white, looking for the bride. He felt the tap on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice.
“Hey Alex.”
Band of Bachelors: Alex, Book 2 Page 6