Ruff and Tumble

by Lucy Gilmore

  “Oh good! You’re up. I was afraid it might be too late to come over. It’s not too late to come over?” The female voice on the other end of the line laughed and added, “I should probably add that I’m literally standing on your doorstep. I brought bubble bath. And wine.”

  Hailey bit back a groan. Although part of her was elated that Penny had followed up on her promise to visit for a long soak in her bathtub, a much larger part realized that there was no way she could hide all this evidence in time. Even if she tore it down and shoved it into the fireplace, evidence littered her living room.

  “You’re not saying anything. Is Cole there? Sigh once for yes and twice for no. I can leave the wine and go.”

  “I’m alone,” Hailey said, and since there was no use trying to pretend she was the calm, cool, and collected woman she’d always aspired to be, she went to answer the door.

  As promised, Penny held a bottle of wine in one hand and a bottle of bath soap in the other. She was also wearing a long coat thrown over a pair of sweatpants, her hair up in a sloppy bun. It was the first time Hailey had ever seen her look anything but perfectly dressed and coiffed.

  “I know.” Penny glanced down at herself with a grimace. “But I have terrible cramps and couldn’t face the prospect of wallowing in bed with a heating pad by myself. It’s really okay? You can say no.”

  This burst of sentiment—one Hailey had often felt herself—caused her to pull the door the rest of the way open. So many times, she’d wished for something exactly like this. A kind smile to allay the symptoms of PMS. Someone to share a bad night in comfy clothes with.

  A friend.

  “It’s really okay,” Hailey said. “To be honest, I could use the company. It’s been a day.”

  She was rewarded with Penny’s bright smile. “You’re telling me. I’m always exhausted after eight hours of chasing down all those puppies. I don’t know how you do it, day in and day…” Penny’s voice trailed off as she reached the living room, the bottles she carried falling heavily to her sides. She spent a long moment absorbing the charts and images, the red string that crisscrossed everywhere.

  It was on the tip of Hailey’s tongue to defend herself, but Penny spoke up before she could formulate a reasonable excuse.

  “Oh my,” she murmured. “If I go in the bathroom, am I going to find a dead body?”

  Hailey couldn’t help a giggle from escaping. Given the mayhem all around them, it wasn’t an unreasonable question.

  Encouraged, Penny shot a smile at Hailey over her shoulder. “I’ll help you bury him, of course, but it’s not going to be easy. He must weigh at least two hundred pounds.”

  “Two twenty-one, actually,” Hailey said and immediately clamped her lips shut. That kind of detailed information wasn’t going to help her look less like a murderer.

  Penny, however, only laughed. “You are, without a doubt, my favorite person in the world. Here. Trade me the puppy for the wine. I think you should crack this bottle immediately.”

  Hailey did as she asked, but not without first saying, “I thought you came to use my bathtub.”

  “I did. But this looks much more important.”

  A strange torrent of emotions moved through her as she took the bottle of wine to the kitchen and poured them each a full glass, careful not to wake Bess and her sleeping litter as she did. She should have been ashamed of what was happening in the other room—of having a living, breathing person witness the inner chaos of her mind—but she wasn’t. She was a little embarrassed, yes, and would probably never live it down, but the feeling foremost in her heart was relief. She wanted to talk to someone else about this. She needed it.

  It had been too long since she’d allowed herself that liberty—of needing another person, of putting herself in their hands and trusting that she’d be safe there.

  Nine years too long, in fact.

  “Here.” Hailey returned and handed Penny the glass of wine. The other woman was standing in front of the poster board, rocking back and forth in an effort to keep Rufus asleep. “There’s also some ibuprofen and a heating pad in the medicine cabinet. Help yourself to anything you need.”

  Penny nodded her thanks but didn’t make a move to grab either item. She sipped her wine and kept staring at Hailey’s handiwork instead.

  “He’s hurt, isn’t he?” she asked. “That’s what this is. You mapped his injuries.”

  Hailey nodded, surprised that Penny was so quick to pick up on the trend of her thoughts. “It’s not injuries so much as injury, but yes.” She pointed at a red dot on her timeline. “This is when he hurt his shoulder in the game against Atlanta. He was only out for a few weeks, but everyone knew he wouldn’t be back up to full strength without surgery.”

  “That was the year they missed the Kickoff Cup by a field goal, right? The same year we moved to the new warehouse for filming.”

  “Yeah.” Hailey took a long, fortifying sip from her own glass. She didn’t know enough about wine to recognize the type or the quality, but it tasted dark and sweet. “That’s also when everyone started getting fixated on the curse. It was always whispered about before, but things really took off after that. Poor Cole.”

  Penny murmured her agreement, but Hailey doubted whether her friend understood the extent of the burden that must have been put on him after that. She doubted whether anyone did. Even she treated the curse more like a joke than an actual problem, a sort of mystical punchline to explain away every loss and every bad play, but Cole must have felt the pinch of it every time it was mentioned.

  He already took so much on himself—made himself responsible for his team and his family, adopting puppies when she asked and showing up when he was needed—that this additional burden must be crushing him.

  “So what does this all mean?” Penny waved her wineglass in a vague gesture over the living room. “Why are you awake at ten o’clock and channeling your inner Dana Scully?”

  Hailey laughed, but it was a short-lived sentiment. “Cole took me to visit his dad at the hospital today.”

  “Oh wow.” Penny paused. Hailey assumed she was going to say something about what a coup that was for the status of her relationship, that things between them must be getting serious, but what came out of the other woman’s mouth surprised her. “Was that hard? After losing your own father the way you did?”

  Hailey could only stare at her. She didn’t recall ever telling Penny—or, indeed, anyone at the office—about her personal history. It wasn’t the sort of thing that came up in the natural course of conversation, and it had never occurred to her to volunteer the information over the water cooler. Not about her father and definitely not about her life before that.

  “Don’t look so surprised. I know a lot more about you than you realize.” Penny nuzzled the puppy in her arms. “I mean, I don’t know your exact weight or have a collage of your career highlights, but you can’t work next to a person for six years without figuring a few things out. You’re not a difficult person to read.”

  “One-forty,” Hailey replied, somewhat dazed. “And the only career highlight I have is this one.”

  Cole Bennett. With the Kickoff Cup Curse. In her living room.

  “Well, there you go. Now I know everything.” Penny bumped her with her hip. “Except what happened at the hospital today.”

  To be honest, Hailey wasn’t too sure about that herself. Cole hadn’t seemed either surprised or upset when she didn’t invite him over afterward, but that was likely because he was exhausted. After a full day of practice, a visit to the Puppy Cup warehouse, and the emotional upheaval of visiting with his parents and all those kids, it was a wonder he had the energy to keep standing.

  But he did. He always did.

  “Nothing happened,” Hailey said, more to herself than to Penny. “In fact, he was peak Cole Bennett—the perfect son, a smiling football player, a generous brother.
”

  “But?” Penny prompted.

  “But I’m starting to think that I’m not going to be able to break this curse after all.” Hailey stared at the board in front of her, her heart sinking. She was no statistician, and there was always a chance she’d miscalculated, but she hadn’t been wrong about Cole Bennett yet.

  For six years, she’d watched him play football as a way to stay connected to her dad. For six years, she’d counted on him to carry her fantasy team to success. For six years, she’d seen that dimpled, smiling face on television and felt that a world where he existed couldn’t be such a bad place.

  He’d given her so much for so long and without even being aware of it. And now that he needed something from her—a boost of luck, a little confidence, a chance to take that one final step to victory—she wasn’t sure she could return the favor.

  “I’m starting to think that all the puppies in the world won’t be enough.”

  Chapter 16

  “How soon is too soon after sex to ask for a favor?”

  Cole lay on his back in Hailey’s bed, watching the rise and fall of her head where it lay on his chest. His fingers toyed with the peaked tip of her nipple, his touch teasing and light. He would have liked to stroke her back to arousal for another round, but he didn’t think he could. There was physical exhaustion, which he knew well, and then there was physical-sexual-emotional-existential exhaustion, which was what being with Hailey seemed to elicit.

  Sex with her wasn’t just sex. It was hot as all hell, yes, but it was also a reminder that there was more to the deed than friction and a few well-timed thrusts. Friction and well-timed thrusts could get the job done, obviously, but only if the goal was to get off.

  Cole didn’t want off. He wanted to be on and under and below. He wanted to be in.

  “Is that favor opening up the bedroom door and letting Philip in?” Hailey asked without opening her eyes. She arched her back into his touch, the jut of her breasts so enticing that his exhausted cock gave a twitch. “Because if so, then it’s definitely too soon. I love puppies, Cole, I really do, but this is one place I refuse to let them in. I don’t care how many sad eyes you give me.”

  Cole sighed, but only because his eyes weren’t the ones that had looked so sad. From the way Philip had watched the pair of them shut the bedroom door, clutching his battered football as they left him not-alone with Bess and Rufus and five other adoring playmates, you’d have thought they were locking him up and swallowing the key.

  “There are some places a cold, wet nose should never go,” Hailey said. She smiled and added, “You were just in most of them.”

  “I still think you were unnecessarily cruel to shut the door on the poor guy, but no, that’s not the favor.” Cole shifted so he was propped up on Hailey’s padded gray headboard. Of all the rooms in her house, this one felt the most like her. There was no sports memorabilia and no puppy gear, but the two of them lay sprawled on a large bed piled high with plush blankets. Oversized abstract paintings and more pillows than any human being needed added to the appeal, as did the bright-yellow vase full of daisies.

  It was comfortable. Cozy. The sort of place you could stay for hours.

  The sort of place they had stayed for hours. Cole was already late for the team shuttle to the airport. He’d have to hightail it directly there or miss the charter plane to Los Angeles.

  “Would you be willing to watch the game with my parents this weekend?” he asked. His hand dropped from her breast to the soft undulation of her stomach, his fingers now circling her belly button instead of her nipple. “My dad’s home and doing well so far, but I’m worried about how he’s going to handle it. This is the closest the Lumberjacks have come in a long time, and if anything should happen—”

  Hailey stilled the movements of his finger by placing her hand flat on top of his. They’d enjoyed this once already, with her hand guiding his between her legs, and the results had been enough to send him off in a spiral of lust and longing that hadn’t been sated until he was deep inside her. This time, however, there was nothing playful about her touch.

  “Nothing is going to happen,” she said, her words heavy with emphasis. “You’re going to play football the same as you always do.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You might win,” she continued. “Or you might lose. Either way, it’s still just a game.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Cole.” She struggled to a sitting position, her hair breaking around her shoulders as she looked down at him. He wanted to reach up and play with the tumbling locks, to trace the pattern of freckles he was coming to know so well, but that would be more of the same. Her breasts, her belly, the silken strands of her soft brown hair—they were distractions. They were pleasant distractions, and he’d have appreciated more time to indulge in each one, but Hailey would never let him get away with it. He might be willing to cast his career and all its obligations to the wind for a chance to be near her, but she was a lot less needy than him.

  It was a lowering reflection, but what could he do? He needed. He wanted. He yearned.

  Fuck. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d yearned for anything as much as he yearned for this woman.

  “You know it’s not going to be the end of the world if you guys don’t make it, right?” She sounded an awful lot like a teacher talking to a particularly obtuse student. He knew, because he’d been a particularly obtuse student. “It’ll be disappointing, obviously, but nothing will have changed. You’ll still be you. I’ll still be me. And your father will handle the disappointment and move on with his life.”

  Cole had to bite back a snort at that last bit. He and Hailey might not undergo an irrevocable change if the Lumberjacks lost, but he’d never hear the end of it from his dad. If his dad survived long enough to deliver his lecture, that was.

  “You can take your beagle over when you go,” he said, knowing that of all the arguments he might make on his own behalf, none of them would have as much impact as this one. “Hell, take two beagles. Take a whole litter.”

  She remained unconvinced. Naked and sitting cross-legged among the piles of blankets and pillows, so appealing that his chest and cock ached as one, she was nonetheless immovable.

  “It’s not that I mind spending time with your parents,” she said, softening as she reached for his hand. She twined her fingers through his. “In fact, I kind of adore them. But what good can I do? I’m not his doctor. I’m not his daughter. I’m just some random woman he met less than a month ago.”

  Cole didn’t know how to explain that her presence had a way of bringing out the best in people—including the irascible, inflexible man who’d turned his only son into a football star through sheer force of will. She was kind and warm and giving. She didn’t make any demands that weren’t related to puppies. She’d charmed both his parents and the entire city of Seattle, making them believe she had the power to change a twenty-year curse using nothing but her heart.

  “You’re not a random woman,” he protested. “You’re the good-luck charm, remember? If you’re there, he might be able to keep his stress levels in check.”

  A grimace flashed over her face before being replaced by a much firmer set of the mouth. He knew that look, knew even more that it presaged her refusal to be budged and/or charmed, but he tried anyway. Lifting her hand, he turned it over and pressed a kiss directly in the center of her palm. She tasted of salt and sex, of the hours they’d spent in each other’s arms.

  “Please, Hailey?” he asked. “I’ve done nothing but take from you since we met, I know, but—”

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go. It’s fine.”

  Nothing had ever sounded less fine unless he counted the time he’d thrown a football at his mother’s favorite sea-glass vase when he was five years old and shattered it to pieces. Only the fact that his aim had been dead-on had saved him from the
grounding to end all groundings.

  “This will all be over soon, and then we can take a break from football and family and everything attached to them,” he said. “Maybe we can even take that trip to Ibiza. It’s beautiful this time of year, remember?”

  She gave a slight smile at the memory of that first conversation in her office, when he’d been so sure that all it would take was his fame and a little charisma to get his way, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That sounds nice.”

  “I mean it, Hailey.” He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up, his voice thick with sincerity. “There’s more to me than football, I swear. In the off-season, I’m a totally normal guy. I go to movies and eat cheeseburgers and take Mia to story time at the library. I throw barbecues for my friends. Sometimes, I even…”

  He let his voice trail off, uncertain whether or not this was the right time to reveal his deepest, darkest secret. Sometimes, I pretend that life can always be like that. Sometimes, I imagine a world where story time with Mia is enough.

  “Sometimes…?” she prodded.

  He bit back a sigh. Although he liked to think that Hailey saw him as more than Cole Bennett, quarterback extraordinaire, they probably weren’t there yet. In this oasis of her bedroom, where there was nothing related to football on the walls and they were just two naked and sated people sharing a bed, it was easy to ignore the rest of the world. But as soon as he opened that door, he’d be surrounded by reality once again.

  Lumberjacks. Regina. His parents. Football.

  “Sometimes, I even whisk beautiful women away on vacation against their will,” he said, planting a kiss on her lips. “Consider yourself warned.”

  Although Hailey accepted the kiss readily enough, her mouth as soft and willing as it always was, there was a wariness in her expression that indicated how little she believed him.

  “I’ll send Reggie to pick you up on Sunday,” he promised. “She was planning on coming to the game with the team, but she thinks it’ll be better if she stays home. Between the two of you, you should be able to keep my dad calm. And, Hailey?”