The daredevil in her couldn’t resist the snarky answer, and though Charlotte winced at her parents’ shocked expressions, she was blown away to discover…it was true.
Nate had given her a type of friendship she would never find with anyone else, because with him she’d held back nothing even as her career and hunger for her parents’ approval hung like an overcast sky.
A sharp bump on the other side of the door had Marshall cutting across the room. The door swung open to reveal Danica and Martha, who’d barely been able to stop themselves from tumbling onto the floor. Like children again, the three Blue daughters. Charlotte was getting punished and the other two wanted to escape the line of fire but be close enough to get the scoop.
At thirty-two, Charlotte was living a child’s life, sneaking around to find her way because her parents didn’t trust her to make her own choices.
“To throw away a lucrative career for sex? For a tryst that won’t go anywhere?” Tem said with a tsk of regret. “Amazingly foolish.”
“There is no probationary term, is there? You want me off the staff now.”
“I meant Nate Franco. The man who ‘screwed up and lost’ you? Whittaker Doyle had practically groomed him to be his successor. Now he’s gone. He quit.”
Charlotte winced in surprise. A scuffle with Royce Davis and now this? What kind of game was Nate playing?
There was no time to even scratch the surface of his motives. The distaste in her parents’ faces was a painful liberation. It was as if she’d been shoved into the sunshine after a lifetime of darkness. “You are bullies.”
“Alessandro Franco—”
“I’m not talking about him,” she interrupted Marshall. “I’m talking about me. The intimidation, the unfair way you handled the TreShawn Dibbs rumor, how you badger me into dates?” She sighed heavily. “Ma. Pop. I love and respect you both, but if some guy treated me the way you treat me, I would’ve dropped him by now.”
Martha’s gasp bubbled with laughter. “Sorry. Danni and I should leave.”
“No, I’m leaving,” Charlotte decided. “The villa. I’m moving out.”
“Dramatics?” Tem said archly. “Do the adult thing—”
“I have been. You just don’t approve of it. Fortunately, I do. I finally get that my own approval’s all I need to be all right.” Charlotte pointed to the glass panels. “I wanted to get on those sidelines more than I wanted my next meal. I have plans and proposals and hopes. But if caring about these players and being with a man who made me happier than I’ve been my entire adult life makes me an undesirable employee, then I’ll take my talents elsewhere. Life will go on. It’s kind of crazy that way.”
Charlotte turned her back to the field and started for the door. “Whether I make it to your sidelines or not is up to you.”
*
A decision came from the front office several days later. Charlotte had found a temporary place to crash on her best friend’s couch and was devoting her every lunch break to house hunting in the city. She’d just returned to camp from a tour of a Fairway Pointe three-bedroom town house when her sister Danica entered the staff lounge.
With a single look, the woman cleared the room. Lockers slammed, papers were shuffled, footsteps pounded the floor as the other staff filed out of the lounge, leaving Charlotte alone with the woman who quite literally was holding Charlotte’s fate in her hands.
Thankfully, Danica immediately gave her the sealed envelope and waited mutely as Charlotte tore it open and skimmed the official reprimand and what the punishment would be.
“Suspension.” Charlotte looked to her sister.
“For the remainder of preseason. Effective end of day today.” Danica gave her a considering look. “I’m going to ask you the tough questions, Charlotte. When did this…thing…with Nate Franco even start?”
“The night of the team party at the Bellagio. I met him at the Rio, didn’t know who he was then.”
“We were sorry to lose him. That kind of talent, those instincts don’t come naturally to every trainer who makes it to the NFL.”
“I don’t like the idea that he quit so you and the owners would be forced to keep me on board.”
“Good. Because the truth is, you would’ve been cut anyway, Charlotte, if the owners and I thought you weren’t a valuable trainer. You deserve this shot. Kip and Whittaker tell me you have something that even Franco didn’t have—fire. This is where you want to be, not where you think you want to be. There’s a difference.” Danica came over to stand beside her, nudging her gently with her elbow. “So, this thing with Nate. Was it just sex?”
Charlotte started to turn away, dodge the question that would force her to confess aloud what she was trying so strongly to tamp down. Maybe if she ignored love, starved it, it would wither and she could shake off how much she missed Nate.
“Just say it,” Danica urged, but her voice was soft with compassion.
“I love him. Crap, everything’s so messed up.”
“Not necessarily. The way I see it, you have until the season starts to get it together. I’ll handle the media. You’re going to come back to the Slayers ready to do what’s best for this team. In the meantime, you’ll do what’s best for you.”
When Danica left, Charlotte grabbed her cell phone. “Hi, roomie,” she said when Joey answered. “A punishment’s been handed down. I’m suspended for the rest of preseason.”
“You’re still gainfully employed,” Joey reasoned. Then, “Let’s celebrate. I know just the place.”
After camp, Charlotte met her friend at UNLV’s Bigelow Health Sciences Building and, crossing the parking lot to where Joey was carefully getting out of her car with her cane in tow, she said, “I thought you were kidding on the phone. Did you get us invited to a fraternity party?” A more serious thought occurred. “Are you about to bust a student?”
“No and no. We’re sitting in on a lecture. See? Notebook, highlighters. And look—” she pointed at her hair gathered up with a pink scrunchie “—high ponytail. I’m all college-y. Don’t leaving me hangin’.”
Charlotte waited outside while Joey went into the building to confirm the location of the lecture she was bent on attending. Within ten minutes they were settling in the back row of a room with auditorium seating and a massive projection screen.
Students trooped in, chattering as they unzipped backpacks and powered down cell phones. Joey whispered, “I heard the guest lecturer is muy caliente and not such a bad guy.”
A hot professor was something Charlotte’s college experience lacked. When she told Joey so, her friend snorted. “Probably a good thing. I heard about your college shenanigans.”
Charlotte muffled her giggle with a hand across her mouth. Then, when the class quieted and the lecturer took his place at the front of the room, she stopped laughing altogether.
Nate. She hardly heard his words as he dove into a lively presentation about forensic kinesiology. He spoke with a passion that gave her chills and with authority that captivated the class.
A sheet of notebook paper appeared in her periphery. Joey rolled a purple highlighter to her. Charlotte glanced at the all-caps note. YOU’RE HOT FOR TEACHER.
Charlotte’s smile couldn’t be stopped. She scribbled, GUILTY.
Joey scrawled something on the reverse side and slid the sheet over. I WAS WRONG ABOUT HIM. I’M SORRY.
When the students trickled out at the end of the lecture, Joey took her notebook and highlighter to the hallway and Charlotte moved quickly to the front of the room, where Nate was gathering his notes.
“Charlotte.” He set down the pile of papers, crossed his arms, and she had to clear her throat to keep from sighing at how impressively his muscular form filled that textured striped shirt.
“Are you happy? Doing this, I mean?” she hastened to add, gesturing at their surroundings with the purple highlighter she’d forgotten to return to Joey. “Did you walk away from something you love just so I could keep my job?”
&n
bsp; “You should be on that staff, Charlotte. But when I resigned, I walked toward something I love. I gave up doctoral study and teaching to be a part of my father’s legacy. There’s no legacy now. No reason to keep lying to myself and fighting for something I don’t want.”
“Teaching is what you want?”
“Yeah. But that’s not all.”
Tell me, Nate, and I’ll know the truth.
Nate uncrossed his arms, raked a hand down from her shoulder to her fingertips, sending little shock waves through her. “I want you.”
Charlotte swallowed. “Oh…okay, so…” Thinking fast, she grabbed the sheet of paper on the top of the pile and wiggled the highlighter. “Can I write on this?”
Puzzled, he gave a semblance of a nod.
“I’ll call you on this date.” As he frowned at what she jotted on the paper, she pressed, “Please. Want me enough to wait for me.”
Charlotte hurried out of the room to where Joey waited near a cluttered bulletin board. “I have a date,” she whispered as they started down the hall.
“Ooh! A new reason to celebrate. There’s a drive-through cupcake joint downtown. We can rent a couple of 007 flicks, get a dozen cupcakes and be in sprinkle-and-frosting heaven by midnight.”
“Or we can get the cupcakes and drop them off to Las Vegas’s finest. I heard there’s a muy caliente cop working the night shift.”
Joey paused. “You’re absolutely devious.”
Grinning, Charlotte kept walking. “Thank you.”
*
Charlotte had accepted her NFL penalty and the media backlash as fair, but now, as she sat on the edge of a stadium seat surrounded by excited football fans and the August-afternoon heat and watched the Slayers’ kicker send the ball whizzing into the sky for a forty-eight-yard field goal—seven yards farther than his career record—she was itching to be free.
The official announced the kick as good as the stadium erupted in cheers, but with less than thirty game seconds left, the opposing team still dominated the scoreboard by a touchdown and the quarterback was taking a knee on the field, effectively running down the clock to secure a win.
The game clock rolled to 00:00 and Charlotte pumped her fist. Her suspension had just officially lifted.
She hurried to the sidelines to join the sea of players, staff and media personnel. “Congratulations on the field goal,” she said, tapping TreShawn Dibbs on his shoulder, though she half expected him to ignore her.
TreShawn turned with a towel draped over his head, sized her up for a quick moment. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be going to Heaven and Hair for a trim soon. In case Georgiana or Boo asks if we’re cool…?”
“We’re cool, miss.” And he gave her dap.
Anticipation built as Charlotte left the stadium. By the time she checked in at the Rio, got showered and dressed in the Cariocas Suite, she was heavy with eagerness. Confronting the mirror, she fussed with the ruffles on her plunging-neckline dress, applied lip gloss and, finally, picked up her cell phone.
“Charlotte.” Nate’s voice sizzled her nerve endings. “I said I’d call.”
“I like how you say my name. I really like watching you say it.”
Complete silence answered her. Then, “I can make that happen.”
No going back now, Charlotte thought after she gave Nate her location, ended the call and set her phone to Do Not Disturb. No disruptions, no intrusions, no second-guessing. The last time she’d been in this suite, with Nate, life had interfered. She hadn’t known him then, hadn’t had an inkling of what they could mean to each other. She’d made the right decision to leave that night. But tonight… Tonight was theirs.
At the firm knock on the suite door, Charlotte turned away from the glimmering Las Vegas cityscape outside the windows. She silently congratulated herself for not swinging open the door and throwing herself at him. Smooth, Charlotte, remember? Be smooth.
Nate’s gaze was a wave of heat that traveled from the softly curling dark hair hanging loose over her shoulder to the flirty ribbon straps of her high heels. “Damn.”
Well, that could be interpreted a few different ways. “Uh…thanks?” she said, letting him into the suite. “Not too sure what you mean by that.”
“I don’t know what you mean by booking the Cariocas and inviting me here. We could hook up tonight, but where would that leave us tomorrow? Do you even forgive me for what happened with Bindi and that photo?”
Charlotte lifted the corner of her mouth in a smirk she knew was a one-two punch of smug and naughty. “Would I lure you to a hotel suite wearing no underwear whatsoever if I didn’t forgive you?”
“Hell, yeah, you would. To punish me. To get me all hot for you, only to have you take off. You know that’s torture, right?”
“Then you agree—we do have unfinished business.” She walked backward and he matched her steps, maintaining the same close distance as they moved farther into the suite. She spun on her heel, indicating the mini basketball hoop that she’d hooked onto the master bedroom door. “We never did finish that B-ball game at camp.”
Nate took a set of keys and his cell phone from his jeans pocket, dropped them onto the coffee table. One-handed, he grabbed the small-size basketball from the sofa and pointed it at the hoop. When he looked to her, his eyes were so dark, his stare so seeking. “How do you want to do this?”
She took the ball. “Hard. Fast.”
“First to twenty-one?” He stripped off his checked overshirt to reveal the fitted gray tee beneath, and her body responded with something that felt a lot like hunger.
“Make it seven.” Charlotte leaned to bounce the ball on the floor, her legs straight and the short dress inching up her thighs.
“Rules?” he asked, obviously admiring the shape of her butt.
“Full contact. Anything goes. But do not go easy on me.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
Charlotte took the first shot, shoving hard against him in order to have an unobstructed drive to the hoop. But he recovered fast, snagged her around the waist, ruined her aim and caused the ball to strike the backboard. With a grunt she hit the wall of his body, and, using her position to his advantage, he gripped the nape of her neck and brought his hot mouth down on hers.
The kiss was fierce, almost violent. A promise and a plea. When he released her, she gasped to clear her head, then dove for the ball to secure the first point of the game.
He claimed the rebound and managed a bank shot even as she pushed up his shirt to drag her fingernails down his back. Determined, she grappled for the ball and sank a two-pointer.
In minutes the living area was hot, as heat rose up from their bodies to mingle in the humid air. Nate was a formidable opponent, but even in high heels with her hair in the way, Charlotte challenged him. With four points to his five, she bumped her body against his and yanked the ball free. Arms raised, she twirled away from him to shoot. But his arms circled her like steel bands, his hands closed possessively over her breasts and she whimpered with need as the ball escaped her grip.
Still, it dropped through the net, tying the game.
“Impressive,” he acknowledged, swiping the rebound.
Charlotte was patient, letting him get all cocky as he showed off dribbling the mini basketball. At the precise moment that he moved in close for the next attempt, she dropped to her knees in front of him and within seconds had him going marble-hard in her hands.
“What are you doing?”
In response, Charlotte swept her tongue over her top lip. She was starving for him, for the future they could have together. “I’m waiting for you to score.”
He let the ball fly. Another point for him.
Perspiration gleaming on her skin, she scrambled up for a desperate shot, only to miss. She rushed him, determined to block the shot that could give him victory. But, maybe in retaliation for her below-the-belt move, Nate used his body to hem her in with her back against the door, beneath the hoop.
&
nbsp; Pressed against the door, Charlotte tangled her fingers in the net as she watched him lower before her. She shimmered in sweat, was beyond hot. Yet the feel of his lips, tongue and teeth on her flesh spiked her temperature.
Gripping the net with one hand and his head with the other, Charlotte struggled to keep her eyes on Nate as her body weakened with spasms—one intense wave after another. “Wanting you—it’s not enough. I tried to make it be enough. Loving you, being caught up in you, won’t be easy, Nate.”
“You don’t want easy. You want hard. You want fast.” Rising, he kissed up her sternum, nipping the swells of flesh exposed by the deep cut of her dress. “You want love, Charlotte. I love you.”
That love was in the way he touched her, the way his gaze smoldered with it as he spoke her name.
Nate hauled her to him, then slammed the ball into the hoop with enough force to make the structure sing under the assault. Seven points.
Charlotte laughed, bowing up and wrapping him in an embrace with her arms, her legs…and her heart. “Game over.”
*
In July, don’t miss MIDNIGHT PLAY by Lisa Marie Perry. Book Two of THE BLUE DYNASTY features the passionate romance of Danica Blue and Dex Harper….
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ISBN-13: 9781460327555
NIGHT GAMES
Copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marie Perry
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Night Games Page 19