Anything For Love

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by Janelle Taylor


  “I have to leave on the twenty-seventh to head for practice.”

  Eleven short and swift days…Heavens, is that enough time for us to make such a serious decision? Can I risk all, anything, for love?

  “I may have some business to do here before I leave. I’ll know after I speak with my agent and another man tomorrow. As soon as they give me an answer, I’ll explain everything to you.”

  They shared another kiss before he smiled and left. As Rachel leaned against the closed door and sighed dreamily, she recalled what he had said. So, she mused, he did have an unknown reason for being in Augusta, just as she had suspected. She wondered what it was and. if it was the real motive behind his arrival and lengthy stay. Don’t get crazy, Rachel; wait and see.

  Saturday, while the other guests were talking near the pool, Rachel and Jen helped Becky prepare the buffet inside.

  “So far, so good,” Becky remarked as she glanced out the window at Quentin as he chatted and laughed and mingled. “He seems to be getting along splendidly with everyone, and everybody is impressed to the hilt with him. The boys promised not to get nosy about his injuries and career.”

  “That’s good, but he’s been frank and mostly relaxed when he mentioned them while we’re together.”

  Jen eyed Quentin for a moment. “He’s so handsome and sexy, Rachel. Those blue eyes must make you melt when he looks at you. Whew, and that mellow voice. Doesn’t he make your heart beat like crazy?”

  “I must confess that he does, Jen. He’s such good company.”

  Becky grinned and asked, “Is he a great kisser?”

  “Becky Cooper, you snoop,” Rachel jested with a merry laugh.

  The woman halted her task and pressed, “Well, is he?”

  “Yes, but we’ve only kissed twice, last night.”

  “Did he make your knees weak?”

  “Naturally. While we’re alone, let me tell you what happened at the restaurant.” Rachel related the intrusive incident at their table with the Hollises and at the ladies’ room with Janet.

  Becky was horrified when Rachel finished her story and said, “That brazen witch, how rude! Thank heaven she couldn’t come today. She had better watch out if you two team up against her.”

  “If our actions don’t backfire on us, more precisely on me. I mean, I practically told her to shut up, with a sweet smile and tone, of course.”

  “It sounds as if she deserved it; I’m glad you didn’t let her spoil your evening, and I’m glad Quentin didn’t run for cover after meeting her.”

  “So am I, but he’ll be leaving in eleven days.”

  “If you don’t find a way to persuade him to hang around longer.”

  “I can’t; he has preseason practice; then, football goes on for months. Once he leaves, there’s no guessing when I’ll see him again.”

  “You could attend some of his games. Dallas isn’t far away by plane.”

  “He hasn’t invited me to any of them.”

  “He will. If not before he leaves, then as soon as he’s lonely for you.”

  “If he gets lonely for me.”

  “He will, I’m sure of it. I’ve seen the way he looked at you today.”

  “Then you’ve noticed more than I have. No doubt Dianne will give Janet a full report when she returns on Tuesday. He’s coming to church with me in the morning, so I imagine that will spark some curiosity. I bet Janet is at wit’s end about not being here to spy on us and ask questions.”

  “I’m sure she is, but let’s forget about her and just have fun. No doubt that’s easy with Quentin Rawls at your side. Rach, have you told the girls about him?”

  “Not yet; there’s nothing to tell. I received a letter from Karen on Thursday and one from Evelyn this morning; they’re both fine. Evelyn said she was phoning next Saturday. Karen is phoning on the twenty-eighth during her next break. If anything serious develops between us before then, I’ll mention him when they call me.”

  They chatted about their children for a while until Becky said, “The food’s ready! Let’s call everyone inside to serve themselves.”

  The guests were summoned to select their choices, to be eaten at tables with umbrellas that surrounded the pool.

  Quentin eyed the buffet of barbecued chipped pork, tenderloin, hash, rice, potato salad, coleslaw, rolls, pickles, ribs, potato chips, iced tea, and peppermints. “This looks and smells delicious,” he told Rachel.

  “It’s from Sconyers; their barbecue, hash, and ribs are world famous; they’ve catered it to the White House in the past. It’s the best anywhere.”

  When their plates were filled, Rachel and Quentin took seats with Becky and Scott. While they ate and drank, the men discussed Quentin’s impending home renovations, with Scott giving him numerous good suggestions.

  “Do you ever contract jobs outside of Augusta?” Quentin asked him.

  “I haven’t in the past; I get enough work here to keep me busy.”

  “If you decide you want to take on my job, let me know by next week. Since you understand what I want, you’re the ideal contractor for me.”

  Before he started on another juicy rib, Scott responded, “That’s nice of you to say, Quentin, and I’ll think about it. Of course, it would be more expensive to use me and my workers because of travel and lodging costs. And the men would need to make visits home every two weeks while the work was being done; the project should take about two to three months.”

  “I understand; families and happy workers are important. I know it would cost more to get you and your team, but you know what I want. Maybe Becky and Rachel could come along or fly over for a visit or two while you’re there; Dallas is a great place for shopping and sightseeing. If it’s during the season, I can get you all tickets to a Cowboys game.”

  Scott grinned. “That’s what I call an enticing perk. I’ll put a pencil to paper on Monday and get an estimate ready for you. I’ll also need to check my schedule for a starting date; I think it would be September.”

  “That’s perfect. Games will be played on the eleventh and eighteenth; we’re idle on the twenty-fifth. If I’m not playing this year, we can go as spectators. I’ll know where I stand after preseason in August.”

  Scott put down his iced tea. “I hope you’re standing on the field because I’ve enjoyed watching you over the years.”

  “Thanks. We’ll see.”

  As they ate, Rachel warmed at how Quentin had handled that touchy subject and moment. He appeared at ease around her friends, and sent her occasional smiles as if to tell her that fact. His nearness and attention were arousing. He looked appealing in his knee-length shorts and golf shirt, his legs long and sleek, his arms muscled, his waist narrow, his chest broad, and his hands large and skilled. She remembered how it felt to have those deft fingers drifting over her flesh, urging her to cast aside any inhibitions. She felt a rush of heat over her body, her nipples tingled and hardened, and she hoped they didn’t stick out noticeably from her T-shirt. She was unaccustomed to raging desire burning her alive in public and prayed she didn’t start squirming in her chair. She was eager to hear his secret and to learn how—or if—it would affect their romantic relationship. As soon as she knew that answer, she would—

  “You want me to bring you anything? I’m going back for seconds.”

  Rachel’s gaze met his beneath the shade of the large umbrella and partially concealed by sunglasses. “No thanks, Quentin; I’m stuffed.” But, Lordy, you would be an excellent dessert. I could lick you up one side and down the other. I would be putty in those marvelous hands if I knew things could work out between us.

  “I’ll go with you,” Scott told him, and the men left the table.

  Becky leaned toward Rachel, “He’s wonderful, woman; grab him.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t invite Keith Haywood today.”

  Becky laughed. “You sidestepped that question with skill.”

  “I didn’t realize you asked me a question,” Rachel quipped.

  �
��A sly one, I thought. Well, are you going after him?”

  “I haven’t decided; it depends on him and what happens next.”

  “Doesn’t that partly depend upon you, Rach?” Becky whispered.

  Rachel noticed Dianne watching them, smiled at the woman, and replied to Becky as Dianne jerked her gaze away from them, “I suppose so, but I don’t want to be rash, and sorry later.”

  “Somehow I don’t think you will; he appears smitten by you. But if it doesn’t work out, Keith is still available and he’s a dreamboat.”

  “Hold it, Becky; I can handle only one man at a time.”

  “Then, start handling him, Rach, before he’s out of reach, and I do mean, handling him. Do like Scarlett, go after what you want.” “If there’s enough time. He’ll be gone soon.”

  “Have you already forgotten he invited us to Texas? Wasn’t that a clue about his feelings toward you?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to dupe myself with false hopes.”

  “Do you want me to encourage Scott to take on his job?”

  “No, let’s wait and see if they work out a deal on their own.”

  They stopped talking when the men returned. For the remainder of the afternoon, they talked, swam, snacked, and sipped beer or wine. Rachel appreciated the way Quentin restrained himself from making improperly romantic gestures toward her in front of her friends, but he did whisper how stunning she looked in a black onepiece swimsuit that flattered her curves. As for him in his trunks, he was tantalizing to her senses. She wanted to stroke his bare chest, float in his embrace, press her body against his, strip off their garments, and interlock their bodies in blissful delight.

  When a huge thundercloud moved overhead about five and threatened an imminent downpour, everyone hurried to change clothes and to help Becky clear the area so they could depart before it arrived.

  Rachel and Quentin told everyone good-bye, spoke final words with the Brimsfords, and thanked the Coopers for a lovely time and delicious meal. Scott told Quentin to phone him Monday evening to set up a meeting to discuss their possible project. The men shook hands, the women exchanged hugs and kisses, and everyone took their leave.

  At Rachel’s home a few blocks away, Quentin walked her to the door and said, “I’d better get moving before that storm strikes; it looks like a bad one. I’ll pick you up at ten for church and lunch. Thanks for inviting me to the barbecue; I don’t get to partake in many fun and relaxing events. You have some nice friends.”

  “Thanks. You can come in for coffee, if you want.”

  “I best not do that tonight. The Blackwells have driven around the block twice to see how long I’m staying,” he remarked with a grin. “You did say Dianne is Janet’s best friend, so I doubt she’ll go home before I do.”

  “I’m sorry, Quentin; it’s just that those two women are so nosy.”

  “You are a beautiful woman, and single.”

  “And you’re a handsome man, and single, and a celebrity.”

  “We’ll have more time and privacy tomorrow night and Monday. We can talk then. How about if you leave the garage door open for me?”

  “A sly trick to fool our little spies?” she teased.

  Quentin liked the way her green eyes sparkled with playfulness. “Yep. See you soon, Rachel. Sleep well.”

  “Good night, Quentin. I had a wonderful time.”

  Rachel watched him return to the rented car, wave, and start the motor. She noted with annoyance the Blackwells drive by again, then went upstairs and soaked in a bubble bath as she reflected on how Quentin had gazed at her before his departure, as if he wanted to yank her into his arms and cover her with kisses and caresses. His voice had been husky, and her receptive body had ignited with passion.

  Soon, Quentin, because—right or wrong—I can’t resist you much longer. Lordy, I don’t want to resist you. Sharing a life with you sounds so wonderful. Is it possible to win you, Quentin Rawls, despite our differences? Do you truly want me and care about me, or am I only duping myself?

  Rachel turned on the Jacuzzi. Should I tell Karen and Evelyn about you when I write them tonight? No, not yet, not when there’s nothing concrete to report. If things get serious between us, will they be upset with me if I marry a younger man? I’m their mother, so they probably don’t think about me having such flaming desires. Oh, my, if you girls only knew the truth. I just can’t allow my name to be blackened, and Janet and Dianne would certainly do their best to smear me if they caught you staying the night. Those witches are probably watching me like a hawk, ready to spread gossip the instant they suspect we’re sleeping together.

  Sleeping together…Are you planning my seduction tomorrow? Is that why you want to hide your car from their sneaky eyes? Heaven forgive me, I surely hope so. I have to know if we’re still magic in bed, my love, and if sex is the only thing you want from me this time.

  At the Bradberry Suites, Quentin called his best friend Vance and then his parents. He mentioned Rachel during both conversations, and exposed his surprising reason for coming to Augusta. His mother was delighted by the hint of a new romance for her son, but Vance cautioned him to take it slow and easy, a course of action which Rachel made difficult and time made impossible.

  As he snacked on a pizza and diet drink from room service, he reflected on talks that morning with his agent about his precarious career, with the businessman who had sent him there, and with his other two closest friends—Ryan and Perry—who had filled him in on team rumors about cuts and trades on the Dallas Cowboys and other teams. But, he knew, if he didn’t pass the physical, he wouldn’t even make it to preseason games. If he did make it but didn’t shine like a shooting star, he was out for good.

  What, Quentin mused, would he do with himself and his time if he didn’t play football, at least for one more year? The wild idea which had brought him to Augusta just didn’t sound or feel right for him, even if it meant keeping him close to Rachel. On the other hand, her life was here and she might not want to leave it, even for him. He had changed over the years and carried a lot of heavy baggage from two failed marriages, so she would be wary about leaning in his direction too fast, if ever.

  At ten, while he was in the steam shower to soothe his shoulder and knee, he missed Todd Hardy’s call. He left a message he would call back later if he didn’t hear from Quentin by eleven. Quentin told the hotel operator to tell the pesky reporter that was too late to talk tonight and he would see him tomorrow at the mall. Afterward, he instructed the operator not to put through any more calls unless the person asked for James Rawlings, and to change his name to that on their registry for his privacy. He made a mental note to tell Rachel about the change in case she tried to reach him.

  At the thought of Rachel and James Rawlings, memories of their cruise filled his mind. He remembered how she felt in his arms and looked beneath her clothes. He knew how stimulating it was to make love to her in different places and different ways. He remembered how she had surrendered to him with such fiery need and total abandonment, how she took and gave and shared with him. They had talked about many things, except their personal lives and emotions. As if afraid to believe their own and each other’s feelings were real and strong or to imagine a joint future was possible, they had concealed and denied them and had cast such a beautiful goal to the wind.

  Afterward, believing it was nothing more than a wonderful shipboard romance, she had returned to her life in Augusta to rear her children alone. He had returned home to recapture his dream of a successful comeback, to heal his injuries, to become a bigger celebrity, and to enter two ill-fated marriages in search of what he had already found with Rachel Tims Gaines and didn’t realize. Now, her life was settled; his was still in turmoil. Was it possible, he wondered, for them to make a new life together, for her to love him? Maybe all she wanted from him was friendship, nice evenings out, and a satisfying bed partner for a short time. Maybe she was holding back because she was afraid he would want more, or believed he couldn’t fit
into her lifestyle.

  Quentin decided it was time to reveal to her and the local public why he had come to town, and it was time to see if she was receptive to him. If not, he should get his rear out of town pronto before he got hurt.

  * * *

  Quentin didn’t make it to Rachel’s house for the evening. After his appearance at the mall on Sunday afternoon, he was coaxed into going to a dinner for young sportsmen and saying a few words of encouragement to the boys. During the speeches and meal, he found himself missing her presence and smile, and had made a hasty phone call to arrange to see her the following afternoon. He was grateful she had agreed and was understanding about the change in plans. He had enjoyed himself at church and at lunch with her friends, the Coopers and Brimsfords; and Saturday’s party had been very nice. His presence at all three places had created stirs and stares, but it was with Rachel that he yearned to be, and alone. Very soon, he promised himself. But if you don’t give me a little encouragement, I’m outta here, woman.

  Quentin arrived shortly after Rachel returned home following her Daughters of The American Revolution meeting and lunch with several members. She waved him forward into the garage, where he parked next to her BMW.

  “Your car will stay cooler in here, out of the July sun,” Rachel told him. She pressed the control button to close the garage doors, which concealed his presence from inquisitive neighbors. “That was perfect timing. If you haven’t eaten, I can prepare you a sandwich and drink.”

  “I had lunch earlier, but thanks,” he said, as he followed her inside to the kitchen where she set down her packages and a grocery sack.

  “Tell me about your appearance yesterday. From the news coverage, it looked as if you were swamped the entire time.”

  “It was a success, thank goodness; and I managed to get rid of Todd Hardy without too much fuss. I promised him an interview to get him off my back, but I think he’s afraid I’ll skip town without honoring my word. I haven’t sighted him lurking in the bushes, but I have a feeling he’s keeping a sharp eye on me.” And on anybody I socialize with, the snake.

 

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