“It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
“Accident?”
“Accidentally on purpose.”
She ran her hand gently over his belly then bent and kissed it. “That should make it all better.”
Griff snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
“Now, something else needs attention.”
* * * *
Two weeks of training camp passed quickly. After one pre-season game, the Kings prepared to hit the road for a week. Griff had a special suitcase he filled with toilet articles and underwear that was always ready to go. He took Lauren out for dinner, packed, and retired by ten.
The next morning, he left early. She awoke to an envelope with her name on it, sitting on the kitchen table. Dread lodged in her heart. Is his house ready? Is he leaving now? Her pulse kicked up as she opened it. There was a note from Griff wrapped around something stiff inside.
Been meaning to give you these. Bring Don and one of his kids.
Griff
She slipped her fingers under the flap and found three season box tickets. She wondered if they had been Kathy’s tickets and if they were in the family box. A smile spread across her face. Don will love it. She picked up her phone.
“Guess what?”
“Dad passed?”
“No! What a horrible thing to guess! This is good news.”
“Oh? What?”
“Griff gave me three season box seat tickets.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“This is the real thing. Pick one of your kids and get your butt down here for the game a week from Sunday.”
“Damn! I’m there. I’ll bring Vinnie. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Grinning, Lauren hopped upstairs to her closet. She tore through her wardrobe, searching for the right outfit. Don’t want Griff to be embarrassed. The idea of meeting his teammates sent a thrill up her spine and anxiety to her stomach at the same time.
She stood back, shaking her head. None of her old clothes would do. I haven’t been shopping in an age. Not since I was buying pregnancy clothes. A pain shot through her heart. Stop thinking about that. Remember what the group said. Obsessing is not healthy.
She took Spike for a quick walk then jumped in her car and headed for The Cottage, the stylish boutique on Main Street. Now that she had a little money to burn and was hanging out with a star athlete, she had to dress better.
Squaring her shoulders, Lauren walked into the shop, where she was greeted by a smiling saleslady.
“What can I help you with today?”
“I need a special outfit to wear to a football game.”
“High school? College?” the older woman asked.
“Professional,” Lauren said, a note of pride creeping into her voice.
“The Kings?”
“None other.”
“Now, that’s something to dress for. Come over here. We have a great selection of corduroy slacks and matching jackets. And we even have olive green. With your eyes, that would be perfect.”
Lauren followed her to a rack by the wall and started sifting through the clothing.
“Do you mind me asking? Are you going with a friend?”
“My brother, actually.”
“Oh.” The saleslady’s tone dropped, drawing Lauren’s attention.
“But I got the tickets from my boyfriend, Griff Montgomery.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You’re Griff Montgomery’s girl? Oh, my. A celebrity. Martha, Martha! The store owner is going to want to handle you personally.”
Panic seized Lauren. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? What if Griff doesn’t want anyone to know? Now, it’ll be in the papers and everything. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead.
The manager—Martha, apparently—joined them.
“This young woman is Griff Montgomery’s girlfriend. She’s going to the next game.”
“No, really, I’m not. We’re just friends.” Lauren bit her lip.
“Friends? With a woman who looks like you?” Martha cocked an eyebrow. “You’re dating him, right?”
“Well, dating might be a stretch. You see, we live in the same house…”
“Oh my God! You’re living with Griff Montgomery?” The manager’s face lit up.
“No, no, it’s not like that. We’re roommates. We’re sharing the dog, and the court said—”
“Are you engaged? Come on, you can tell me. You’re going to be Mrs. Montgomery, aren’t you?” Martha sidled up to her and elbowed her in the ribs.
The blood drained from Lauren’s face. “Please, please, don’t say anything. We’re not engaged. Honestly. And if that appeared in the newspaper, Griff would bust a gut.”
“Of course, dear. Of course. Your secret is safe with me. Now, let’s find you the best outfit for that game. If—and I do say only ‘if’—you’re his girlfriend, you must look your best. I have some cashmere sweaters in the corner there. And I think I have the perfect color for you.” The woman patted Lauren on the arm and led the way to a table in the back.
Lauren wrapped her fingers around the softest material she’d ever felt. She wondered what Griff would say if he touched her wearing one of those. A giggle bubbled up at the thought while an ache between her legs grew.
“Very sexy, isn’t it?” the older woman whispered.
“Damn right. I’ll take one. Which is the best color for me?”
Martha stepped back, narrowed her eyes, and selected turquoise. “Perfect with that olive green pantsuit, too.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Wise choice, dear. If you’re not engaged yet, you soon will be.” The knowing smile on her lips raised a question Lauren had been avoiding. He’s not serious. Just this woman’s idea. That’ll never happen. When she had herself convinced, she picked up her package and walked out of the store.
Chapter Eleven
Los Angeles, CA
Griff and Buddy had their own rooms on the road. They had a curfew, too, which made getting laid a bit tricky.
On the bus from the airport, Buddy turned to his roommate. “Got a date with Cheryl?”
“Haven’t called her.”
“How come?” Buddy’s eyebrows rose.
“Not interested.”
“Cheryl Charles’s the hottest thing since the sun.”
“Maybe.” Just then, Griff’s phone went off.
You’re playing the Tigers this weekend. I saved Saturday night. Where you staying?
Cheryl
“Shit.” Griff sent back the name of the hotel.
“Bad news?”
“Sort of. Cheryl.”
“Sounds like good news to me. Somebody’s gonna get laid.”
“Not me.”
“Why not?”
“Cheryl’s too possessive. When she finds out Kathy’s moved, she’ll be pressing me to get married.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Hell, yeah. I don’t want to marry her. Never have. She’s boring as dirt. All she can talk about is celebrity gossip and clothes.”
“Didn’t know you two did much talking.” Buddy snickered.
Griff punched his friend in the arm. “That’s the point. Talking with her was a waste of time.”
“New gal got you wound up, eh?”
“Shut the fuck up, Buddy.”
The receiver laughed and went back to reading his newspaper. Griff stared out the window. How the hell am I gonna do this? Don’t want to hurt her.
When they checked in, there was a message for him. Cheryl was waiting in the bar. Griff unpacked then joined Buddy.
“I can’t believe she’s downstairs.” Griff shook his head slowly.
“How you gonna get around Coach? You know we’re not supposed to go into the hotel bar.”
“Better talk up here. I don’t want to make a scene.”
“Uh oh. Gonna be fireworks? Want me to protect you?” Buddy barely contained his laughter.
“Very funny, asshole.�
�� Griff returned to his room, whipped out his phone, and texted Cheryl his room number. In ten minutes, there was a knock on his door. He looked through the peephole. Cheryl wore a low cut dress. Always a dress. Less to take off. He sensed heat in his cheeks at how their relationship had gone. Fuck buddies. He cast his gaze to the floor, swallowed, and then opened the door.
“Hey, there, handsome. Long time, no see.” She tilted her chin up to receive his kiss.
He dodged her lips and pecked her on the cheek.
Her eyes grew wide. “What the hell?”
“Sit down,” he said, motioning her to a chair, not the bed. “Want something from room service?”
She shook her head. “Something on your mind?”
“Sort of.” He paced.
“Well, spit it out.”
He twisted open a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and took a long swig. “It’s over between us.” He’d planned to let her off easy, but the words were out before he could stop them.
“What?”
“We’re done.”
“But I thought…I mean, now that Kathy’s moved out… I thought maybe I could move in.”
“I don’t think so.” He took another slug.
Her face darkened. “You can’t just brush me off like that.”
“I can’t? Why not?” He cocked an eyebrow. Griff knew he was being harsh, but couldn’t stop himself.
Her eyes held fear. “Why don’t we go get more comfortable?” She slipped off her shoes.
“I don’t think so, Cheryl.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve changed.”
“Since Kathy left?”
“That’s right.”
They were silent. Cheryl reached for his hand, but he stepped away. Dread rose in his chest as he waited for the tantrum he expected next.
She looked at the floor before glancing up to meet his gaze. There were tears in her eyes. “You’re everything to me, Griff.”
He shifted his weight to the other leg. Cheryl pushed to her feet and moved toward him. She ran her hands up his chest and looked into his eyes. Her soft expression and exposed cleavage called to him. The pleading look on her face melted him a bit. He needed to put distance between them before biology took over. “Look, Cheryl. It’s not you. It’s not personal…”
“Not personal? It can’t get much more personal.”
“I’m someplace else in my life right now.”
“So? I’ll go there with you. I love you.”
“Do you?” He stepped away. “What do you do for…uh, fun, when I’m back East? I seriously doubt you’re home knitting sweaters for soldiers.”
His comment brought a deep blush to her cheeks. “Same as you, I bet.”
“How would you know? Love? No. Convenient? Yes. We share a great dinner and a bed when I’m here. It’s been fun. You’re great in the sack, Cheryl. But I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Got someone at home already?”
Now, it was his turn to be embarrassed. He cast his gaze to the floor.
“Ah, now I get it. I see. You’ve found someone you’re serious about.”
“Not serious. No. I’m not.”
“A fuck buddy?”
His cheeks heated.
“So, I’m out with the garbage. Replaced, like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.
“It’s not like that. I didn’t plan this. I like you, Cheryl. I always will.”
“Yeah? Big fucking deal. You like me? But not enough to give me a chance. I could sublet my apartment and quit my job. I’d give you great sex every night, Griff. Please. Let me move in. Just try it for…say, three months?” Tears spilled on her cheeks.
His heart squeezed. He hated himself for hurting her and hated her for begging. How could he turn her down? He shook his head, nonetheless.
“Come on. She can’t be that great. What’s she got that I don’t?”
“I’m sorry, Cheryl. This isn’t going to work.”`
She stepped closer and slapped him across the face, hard. He flinched, his hand flying to his cheek.
“You’re a user. A fuck-and-chuck guy. You got what you wanted. Sex on demand. Now, you’re taking off. Shallow, selfish creep. I don’t know what I ever saw in you in the first place.” She picked up her bag, swiped at the tears on her cheeks, and walked toward the door, her nicely rounded hips swinging, tempting him to change his mind.
“I’m sorry, Cheryl. I never meant to hurt you. If I had seen how involved you were getting…”
“What did you think? That I slept with you and it meant nothing?”
“We didn’t see each other often. I had no idea.”
“Then, you’re as dumb as you are mean. Fuck you, Griffin Montgomery. Go to Hell.” She slammed the door on her way out.
Griff checked his face in the mirror. There was a red spot, but it would fade. Heaviness hit his heart. She had treated him like a lowlife, and maybe he was. Am I making a mistake? Was I a jerk?
His stomach growled. Griff picked up the phone and gave the okay for the meal preplanned by the Coach to be sent up. Buddy arrived along with Griff’s food. He lounged in an upholstered chair while Griff sat at the small table and chowed down.
“That was fast. A real quickie,” Buddy said.
“An easy letdown that wasn’t so easy.” Griff cut off a piece of steak.
“You really broke up?”
Griff nodded while he chewed.
“Are you sure?” Buddy probed.
“No, but it’s done.”
His friend shook his head. “I don’t know if you’re a man of great willpower, or an idiot.”
“Neither do I,” said the quarterback.
Griff wasn’t ready to face the fact that he was giving up good, steady road trip sex for a woman who didn’t want to get married.
“How’d it go?”
“Not well,” Griff replied.
“You survived.”
“Barely. Good thing she wasn’t armed.” Griff leaned back and dipped his fork in mashed potatoes.
“Can you give me her number?”
Griff threw his spoon at his friend, for a direct hit. “Back to your own room, asshole.”
“Hey, it doesn’t hurt to ask.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Buddy sauntered over to the door. “Good night, Casanova,” he said, before ducking out.
* * * *
Beer in hand, Griff nudged the living room curtain aside and peered out the window. Lauren opened a package of small boxes and spilled them into a large bowl. He cast a disapproving eye toward her, his face stormy.
“Raisins?”
“They’re healthy.”
“Kids don’t want healthy on Halloween. Sugar. Lots of sugar.” He glanced around the room while she added another bag. His brows knitted when his gaze landed on the pumpkin. “You call that a pumpkin?”
“What do you call it?”
“I call it a disgrace. You should have at least two. One with a really scary face. Maybe two like that. This one is so happy, he’s ridiculous. Silly. Stupid looking.”
Her chest tightened, and her eyes stung at his blunt criticism. After a deep breath, she stared at him. “What’s bugging you?”
“Your pumpkin. And no decorations. You don’t know how to buy candy, either. No kid wants a box of raisins. You don’t know shit about kids, do you?”
She sucked in air. “How could I? I don’t have any.” Her lower lip quivered.
“I’m sorry, Lauren, I didn’t mean…” He reached for her, but she pulled away, upsetting the bowl and sending the little boxes scattering across the floor.
She shrank from his grasp and scooted out of his path and up to her room, slamming the door. Falling on the bed, she shed a couple of tears then stopped. He didn’t mean to hurt you. She flipped off her loafers and sat up, cross-legged.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Can I come in?”
“I suppose,” she huffed,
swiping at the wetness on her cheeks.
He entered slowly, almost as if he was expecting her to throw something. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”
“I’m grouchy today. Guess I’m missing the kids.”
“Were you around for Halloween?”
“Most times. If there wasn’t a game. Sometimes, we were on the road. I hated that. Halloween is the best kid’s holiday. Kathy took care of the costumes, and I did everything else.”
“Like what? What did you do?” She slid over.
He joined her. “Carved the pumpkins. The kids would make drawings. Then, we’d vote on our two favorites.”
“Didn’t that cause friction?”
He laughed. “Yeah. They could be competitive. Missy was a better artist than Joey. Uh, Joe. So, we had a rule that you couldn’t vote for two from one person.”
“What else?”
“I bought the candy. The kids helped with that, too.”
“And?”
“I decorated the house. We had little ceramic Jack O’Lanterns and ghouls and witches.” His eyes grew distant. “Fake cobwebs. Sometimes, I’d even dress up. I got the scariest mask I could find. If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
“Bet you scared the hell out of kids.”
“Kathy made me stop after two years. Some of them cried.” He laughed. “It was fun.”
“Did you dress up as anything else after that?”
“The next year, I dressed as a clown, thinking it would make the kids laugh. But they were more scared of that than my monster mask.” He chuckled. “After that, I settled for a pirate. The shadow on my face was my own.”
“I bet you’re one sexy pirate.”
“Hmm.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Never thought of that. Have to try that in the bedroom.”
“With pantaloons, a sword, and a parrot?” She grinned.
“How about no pantaloons, and I bring my own sword? Forget the parrot.”
“Polly want a cracker?”
“Maybe Polly wants something else.” He leaned down and captured her mouth with his.
Griff Montgomery, Quarterback Page 13