“So, what the hell happened with Vanessa?”
“Could you be a little blunter, Shy?”
“Seriously. What happened?”
He chuckled. “It was easy. Once the team offered me the buy-out, I was no longer a rich football star. I’d lost my appeal. I simply gave her an easy out. How could an up-and-coming star marry a has-been?”
“You’re not a has-been!”
“Actually, I am. This is my last season with the Kings, and I’m benched—on the injury list—for the remainder.”
“Oh, Harley! That’s terrible.” She put her hand on his arm.
“Is it? Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Why did they do that?”
“One concussion too many.”
“It’s a good thing then. I was going to tell you that the last one was worse than the one before. It took you a lot longer to recover.”
“I’ll probably get that CTE thing. Dementia by forty-five, dead by suicide at fifty.”
“Don’t say that. Not everyone gets that.”
“Not everyone has my concussion history either. They were right. It’s time for me to get out. And they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Frankly, I’m glad you’re leaving.”
“You are?” At a red light, he stopped to stare at her. “Why?”
“Because I was afraid the next time, you’d die. It’s a violent game, Harley. As much as I love watching you play, I’d be just as happy watching on TV with you on the couch next to me. At least you’d be safe.”
Harley pulled up in front of the deli and parked. He got a big greeting from the men who ran the restaurant. The couple ordered corned beef on rye, coleslaw, and potato salad. Pete, one of the owners, wandered over to their table to chat with Harley. Shyla was impatient. She wanted him to herself, but Harley was a celebrity, famous in Monroe, and she’d have to share.
On the ride home, he squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
“We need to talk. Work out a plan. Tell me about your work. Where’s your next gig?”
She shifted in her seat. “The Pine Grove Playhouse.”
“I thought you were just doing that while you were in-between movies.”
“Look, Harley, the truth is, I’m done in the movie business. I betrayed Gunther Quill. And you just don’t do that in Hollywood. I don’t have any other gigs. I’m working part-time now, spring and summer only. I can’t get a movie, maybe never will again.”
“Because of our little thing?”
“It wasn’t a little thing. It was a breach of contract. I got fired. They had to scramble like hell to replace me. They doubted Gunther’s judgment in recommending me. Now, he won’t even speak to me. I’m done. Finished. I’m lucky to have the Pine Grove job.”
Harley whistled low. “Wow. That’s terrible. I had no idea about the contract or anything. If you’d have told me, I’d have backed off.”
“Would you? We were pretty far gone, pretty fast. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I just hoped we wouldn’t get caught.”
“I suppose doing it in the hot tub wasn’t our smartest choice.”
She giggled. “Probably not. But it was fun.”
Harley pulled into the garage. He carried Shyla’s suitcase upstairs. She held her breath, wondering which room he’d put it in. “It was horrible having you in the guest room,” he said, wheeling her valise into the master bedroom. She let out a sigh.
“It was weird having you engaged to somebody else.”
He laughed and took her in his arms. She melted against him. His scent, his lips, his arms, everything was familiar, reminding her of happy times they shared.
“Before we get carried away,” he said, sitting on the bed. “About that being engaged thing.”
“What about it? It’s over, right?”
“It was over before it began. I have another idea. Marry me, Shyla. I know this isn’t the romantic, hearts and flowers and huge engagement ring proposal you deserve. But it’s real. I love you. Always have. Let’s get married and stop the craziness. I won’t be traveling, you won’t be traveling. We could have a life together. What do you say?”
Her eyes grew wide, and tears threatened. “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything. I’m no prize—unemployed, beat up, broken down—but my heart still works, and it beats for you.”
“That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He laughed again. “That’s not saying much.”
“Yes, it is, Harley Brennan, running back,” she replied, sitting down on his lap.
“So, will you?”
“Of course, I will. Thought you’d never ask.” She lowered her mouth to his. Nothing had ever tasted as good as Harley Brennan, fiancé.
The moment their lips touched, Harley was all over her. He eased her back down on the bed. His hands were under her sweater immediately, feeling around back for the hooks to her bra. She gripped the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it up. He wiggled out of it in a heartbeat.
He smiled at the small moan that emanated from her lips as she stared at his chest.
“You’re gorgeous,” she uttered.
“Look who’s talking.” He unhooked her bra then shoved the outer and under garments up together. She sat up and whipped them off. Harley’s gaze remained on her breasts for the longest time, while he reacquainted himself with her flesh. His lips traveled to her peaks, making her breath hitch.
Blood raced through Shyla’s veins at the speed of light. If someone had trained an electric heater on her, she couldn’t have felt hotter. The two lovers couldn’t wait. They stood up, stripping garments off and tossing them aside, racing to see who could get naked first.
Harley won. He ripped the bedclothes down and scooted under, waiting for her. She sensed his hot stare on her rear as she took off her socks.
“You’re beautiful, Shy. So beautiful.”
She crawled up the mattress to where he was. He pulled her up to be chest to chest with him and insinuated his knee between her legs. He slid his hands down her back to cup and squeeze her butt. She twined her fingers through his chest hair while their mouths met. An urgency between them thickened the air.
With her sexual response turned down to idle for so long, she was surprised at how fast her body revved up. Harley had always had the magic touch. Even the first time they had made love, she was panting before he even got inside.
He kissed his way down her body, his hands skimming down over her smooth skin faster than his lips. She combed her fingers through his hair. As she lay back, her eyes drifted closed. She focused on the simple joy of his caresses. Harley knew a woman’s body.
His fingertips glided over her abdomen and down to her thighs. He closed his fingers over her muscles, leaving his thumbs free to explore her sex. Pushing her legs further apart, he settled between them, using his tongue to pleasure her.
Shyla’s back arched at the first touch. Desire flew through her before settling in her core. She wanted him. She cracked her eyes to slits and watched. Pushing up on one elbow, she reached below with her other hand. Harley was hard as steel.
“Do it. Take me. Harley, come on.”
“Saying you want it?”
“Damn it, you know I do.”
He raised his head. “I’d never make you beg.” He chuckled.
She laughed. “Like you could hold out?”
“Baby, I can barely control myself. You first.” He slid two fingers inside her and pumped.
Shyla fell back on the bed, her body rigid and her hips arching up, and then moving with him as an orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave.
“Crap, Harley,” she said, panting. “Will you do it already?”
“That wasn’t enough? Okay. Here comes the real thing.”
He didn’t waste time with fancy positions, but simply mounted her. She wound her legs around his waist. His chest hair tickled her breasts, keeping her nipples har
d. She pushed against him, loving the contact with his warm skin. Shyla buried her face in his neck. The scent of Harley mixed with aftershave pleased her. She licked his shoulder, enjoying the taste of him.
“Oh, baby, oh, baby, oh, baby,” he moaned, thrusting in and out of her at an ever increasing pace. “I love you, honey, love you.”
His words brought joy to her heart. “Love you too. Madly. Forever.”
“God, you feel good,” he whispered.
Their rhythm rocked the bed against the wall. She moved her hands to his butt, letting them ride with his movements. An incredible high possessed her. He gripped her hard, her muscles contracted. She came a second time. He stopped, pushing in once more, and groaned into her mouth.
Sweat dripped off his forehead onto her hair. He brushed her lips with his as they lay quietly in each other’s arms. Shy scratched his back lightly with her nails and sucked on his skin.
She’d almost forgotten how fast Harley could take her to the moon, how hot he made her, ramping up her desire until she had to have him. He was the best lover ever. And she had had some famous men to compare him with. Was it his skill, or the fact that she loved him so much? She stopped questioning it.
“You really want to get married?” She pushed up on one elbow.
“Of course. I asked you, didn’t I? Did you think I was kidding?”
“I mean, you just broke one engagement. Seems you’d like a little time off?”
“No way. You’re it, honey. The one. Always. Shoulda been you all along.”
Harley snaked his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She cuddled up, like a little kitten, into his chest, her nose level with his collarbone. He folded the bedclothes up and over them. With a sigh, he lay still. Shy listened to the beating of his heart. The steady rhythm soothed her into slumber.
Chapter Seventeen
They awoke at five in the afternoon. After a shower together and slower lovemaking under the warm spray, they dressed. Shy made a pot of coffee, and they agreed to go to The Savage Beast for dinner.
Harley wanted to strut his new fiancée in front of his teammates. In fact, he couldn’t wait to show her off. She dressed in jeans and a dark rose sweater. Around her neck, a pretty choker necklace in gold picked up highlights from her hair.
“Wow. You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
“Great sex does that for me. Gives a bloom to my cheeks,” he kidded, taking a feminine bow and laughing.
As he escorted her to the car, he couldn’t help but compare her to Vanessa. He was surprised there could be such a big difference between them in bed. He speculated to himself that maybe it was because Shyla wanted to be there while Nessa always had other plans.
He opened the door of the bar to music and some loud voices. Some of his teammates were already there, cutting loose Friday night before the game on Sunday. Harley smiled and held the door for his lady.
“It’s okay. They don’t bite. Most of the time, that is,” he said.
She sent a questioning glance over her shoulder at him.
Trunk Mahoney was there, of course, with his wife. The big man slapped Harley on the back. “Another fiancée?”
“She’s the real deal. Shyla meet Trunk. Al to the rest of the world.”
“Shyla? Oh, you’re the lady who was calling out in the stands when Brennan got clocked?”
She nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
Trunk slapped her on the back, too, then showed her to a table. One by one, each of the Kings came over. Harley made introductions, they chatted for a moment, and then his teammates returned to their own wives and girlfriends.
The warmth of the players brought sadness to his heart. He was going to miss the friendship and camaraderie of the team.
“Next round is on me. Let’s toast to Harley!” Trunk called out. Carla served drinks, and glasses were raised.
“Much better this time, Brennan,” Bullhorn Brodsky said, slinging his large body into a chair next to the running back.
“Where’s Samantha?”
“She’s coming. I’m Sly Brodsky, offense,” he said, extending his hand to Shyla.
“Offense is right. Offensive at every opportunity. The language on this guy…” Harley said.
“Me? It’s you who’d get every word bleeped.”
The men bantered back and forth, making Shyla smile. Harley caught her eye and laughed. This was just the reaction he wanted from the woman who was to be his wife, his life partner. Shy got him, got his friends, got his whole life. And he couldn’t stop grinning like an ape.
Carla brought out two blue cheese burgers and sweet potato fries. Harley thought Shy was having an orgasm, the way she went on about how good the food was. Lawson Breaker and Tuffer Demson joined the table.
“The Kid, Breaker here, got his first concussion this season.”
“Not exactly the first. I got one in college too.”
“Be careful,” Shyla warned.
“Still got that girlfriend?” Harley asked.
“Yeah,” Breaker said, turning red.
“Tell her to look out for you. You still dating the coach’s kid?” Harley turned his attention to Tuffer.
“Yeah. And watch what you say. There’s a lady present,” Demson said.
“I think I love this guy.” Shyla chuckled, putting an arm around the big man for a hug.
They stayed until ten. Shyla drove home because she had had less to drink than Harley.
“You know what’s love?”
“No. What? Get in the car,” she said, shivering.
“Trusting you with the keys to my Maserati.” He opened the passenger side door.
“You’re loaded. You have no choice.”
“I’m not totaled. I can still do you when we get home.”
She laughed as she started the vehicle and threw it into gear.
When they arrived at his house, Harley locked up, peeled off his clothes, and headed for the bed. Shyla was waiting. Half expecting to hear excuses for avoiding sex, like he had with Vanessa, he raised his eyebrows at his beloved’s words.
“What kept you? I coulda had three orgasms going solo by now. Drop those drawers.”
He snickered and stripped down fast. Her attitude alone made him hard.
After they finished, she snuggled up to him. Harley wouldn’t admit it, but he liked cuddling almost as much as sex. Well, maybe not almost, but a lot. And with Shyla, it was the best. Her rounded curves gave him something to hold onto. She was soft, warm, and made the sweetest little noises in her sleep when she was up against him.
He curled his long body around hers and closed his eyes. He vowed that he wouldn’t think about what he was going to do with his future at that moment. There was nothing he could do but wait, so why spoil this special time with Shy. The thought of her acceptance of his proposal brought peace to his heart. He finally had something he’d wanted for a long time—the right girl.
Although there were a lot of bad things that had gone down, part of him would be grateful forever to Marriage Minded for bringing them back together in the most round-about, half-assed way possible.
With his body sated, his heart peaceful, and his mind at rest, Harley drifted off.
****
Harley was up before Shyla. He threw on sweats and went for a run. Invigorated, he made a pot of coffee, turned on some music, and danced while he scrambled eggs. He smiled to think that although his life was in the crapper, he was happy. He’d surely have plenty of money to live out his days in style and a beautiful, smart, sexy woman to do it with. But what would he do with his time? He pushed the thought out. It had been so long since he had had happy feelings at all, now he simply needed to listen to his heart.
He turned the heat off under the skillet and answered his phone. It was Mac Caldwell from Kensington State University. The running back chatted while he ate his portion and put the rest in a container to be reheated for Shy. When he finished his conversation, he hopped
in his car and drove into downtown Monroe and back before Shyla awoke.
As he came in the door, he almost bumped into her. She had on one of his T-shirts and nothing else.
“You look great,” he said, running his cold hands up and down her bare sides.
“Ow! No! You’re killing me with those hands! You’re freezing!” She jerked and started.
“I know one way to warm them up,” he whispered, sliding his right one between her legs.
“Ooh, yes. Good idea.”
“It works.”
He kissed her several times. “Good news. Pack up. We’re going to Willow Falls.” He gave her rear a playful slap.
“Willow Falls?”
“Yep.” He followed her into the kitchen and poured her coffee.
“What’s in Willow Falls?”
“It’s a surprise. Drink up, eat these eggs, and let’s go. We’re expected this afternoon.”
Once they were on the road, Harley could hardly keep his speedy vehicle within safe limits. He was anxious to get there.
“I like surprises as much as the next person, but enough is enough. What’s up?”
“We’ll stop at the Catskill Diner for lunch, and I’ll break it to you then.”
“Break it to me? Uh oh.”
They drove in silence for the next forty-five minutes. Shyla rested her hand on his leg and stared out the window. Harley pulled up to the quaint, 1950’s style diner, and they went inside.
Reuben sandwiches and vanilla milkshakes were delivered.
“Okay, shoot. I can take it.” Her eyes widened, and fear flickered through.
“It’s not bad. Trust me.”
“What is it, Harley? You’re beginning to piss me off.”
He surrounded her small hand with his. “Here’s the deal. Mac Caldwell, Dean of Kensington State University, has offered me the job of head coach of their football team. It’s my alma mater and where I first played. The salary isn’t great, but it’s decent, compared to the same job at other places. That really doesn’t matter because The Kings are paying me twenty-million bucks to terminate our three year-contract. Of course, taxes’ll take a good chunk of that. Still, there’ll be plenty to live on. I’m going to take the job. I already accepted on the phone this morning.”
Harley Brennan, Running Back Page 21