by Lynn Shurr
“Cut it out, Xo. Do you see anything bad?”
“Nothing dark about her. I don’t think a person having darkness within could cook such light and wonderful food.”
Fortunately, Alix only heard the last part of the sentence as she bustled in and dumped more ebelskivers into the basket. “Thank you. Have a fresh one. Put only a little powdered sugar on it, not as much as Tom did.”
“He’s used to beignets drowning in the stuff. Make him take you out for breakfast tomorrow.” Xochi ate three more and downed the coffee. “I need to get to work. Great meeting you, Alix. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other. The family will definitely want to meet you. And if this arrangement doesn’t work out, I live just across the street and have a spare room.”
“I think you are running late, Xo. Let me walk you to the door.” Tom pulled back his sister’s chair in case she intended to say anything more to screw up his plans. He took her arm and helped her along. At the doorway, he leaned in and said, “Maybe I should change my entry code.”
“What, you don’t want me to water your plants when you are away?”
“I don’t have plants!”
Xochi wetted a finger and rubbed his stubbled chin. “You got some jelly there.”
“I know! As my favorite sister, do you think you could keep this quiet for a while, just until we see how it goes? Give Alix a chance to settle in and get used to me.”
“I suppose, but you know Dad will be coming down for the mini-camp. Alix has been all over the news, and he’ll be curious to see how she does.”
“I’ll run across that field when I must.”
Xochi smiled up at her brother with a warmth that said she favored him, too, among all her siblings. “Tom, she could do a lot worse than you. Good luck.”
He closed the door and hurried back to Alix and the cooling ebelskivers figuring he could eat a dozen more. “Alix, sit down. Let me serve you another cup of coffee. I’ll get dressed, and then we’ll go over to headquarters.”
Chapter Six
Best workout ever! They ran side by side on the treadmills, not talking very much, just companionable. Alix wore her running shorts under her jeans, and he could see the shadow of her black athletic bra under a fresh white tee. She’d put on better shoes for exercising. Simply seeing her peel out of her jeans and that slight shadow of the bra seemed as good as a striptease to Tom. Now he watched her work the rowing machine, waiting his turn since the gym had only one. He swore even her sweat smelled good—at least better than any guy in the place.
Alix finished up and turned the machine over to him, but rather than stay and watch the bunching of his muscles, which weren’t all that bad, she headed for the weight room. He’d told her he did power squats, leg presses, and extensions in there as part of his routine workout, to which she’d replied, “Sure, that’s what I do, too.” Tom guessed he couldn’t blow off the rowing and tag along after her. Way too obvious that he wanted her attention.
By the time he finished and entered the weight room, his view of Alix was blocked by the fortress-like pair of shoulders owned by fullback, Vince Barbaro, who observed the new punter’s every move. Alix extended her legs against the pedals and raised the weights, hold one-two, drop, hold one-two, drop, in a steady rhythm. When she paused to suck up some water, Barbaro moved in with a broad, smarmy smile and extended a hand the size of a small canned ham.
“Hi, Alix, I’m Vince Barbaro, your personal protector. I’ll see none of the return team guys get at you on the field.”
Alix shook and gave out the usual nice to meet you. Jesus, the man had the most perfect tan Tom had ever seen. Even when he’d served as a Camp Love Letter lifeguard, Tom had to slather on the sunscreen to protect his fair skin and build a tan gradually over the course of the summer to the point where he no longer looked like a freckled albino if there was such a thing. It the fall, his brown faded quickly, and his spots popped out again with a vengeance.
Tom inserted himself into the conversation. “Hey, Vince. What are you doing in town? Looks like you’ve been somewhere sunny.”
Alix’s personal protector flashed his smile again, even whiter than usual displayed on the background of that tan. It went well with those dark eyes and thick, black hair of his, too. “I’ve been relaxing at that private island your dad recommended off the coast of Mexico. He used to treat the whole team to a week there when the Sinners had a good season. How come Dean doesn’t do that? I mean we won the Super Bowl for him last year.”
“Distracted by Ilsa having his baby and getting married to Stacy around the same time, I’d guess. His plate was full to overflowing.” Tom defended his brother. “I’ll put a bug in his ear. We can still get a trip in before summer training camp. You guys deserve it even belatedly, but why exactly are you here?”
“Coach called me in for mini-camp. He wants Alix to get used to players coming at her to block her punts.” Vince turned to Alix again. “But don’t you worry your pretty head about that, little lady. Just do your punts. Vince got you covered.”
Oh, she didn’t like that sexist comment. Alix narrowed her wide blue eyes and replied coolly, “You do your job, and I’ll do mine. We’ll get along.” Tom rejoiced.
“Yeah, I guess.” Vince flexed his impressive tattooed guns displayed prominently by the wife-beater he wore. “Since I’m here, I might as well do some bench presses. You want to spot me, Tom? Or maybe not. With the weight I lift maybe you couldn’t raise it if my grip slips. I’ll get a trainer.” He whammed Tom between the shoulder blades in farewell and shoved him forward several inches. “I keep forgetting what delicate flowers you kickers are.”
As Vince sauntered off, Tom mumbled, “Fullbacks!”
Alix stopped extending her legs. “Are all the team members like him?”
“Most of them are good guys, maybe a little crude. I really think Vince wanted to impress you.”
“Not working. Anyone can look at me and see I am not little and hardly a lady.” She scrunched that straight nose again, a habit he found totally endearing, especially since it implied Vince stank.
“You’re great the way you are.” Tom rushed on lest she be offended by the compliment. “Well, I’m going to do some planks. They’re good for the core development.”
“I know,” Alix replied with a hint of exasperation.
“Right. Call me when you want to switch.” Tom stretched his length on a nearby mat and did his best to present his long, lean line supported by the smooth muscles in his arms. He conjured coming upon Alix doing planks in their apartment. He’d kneel between her legs, slowly peel down her exercise shorts and reveal her firm, white buttocks. Tom switched to rocking planks, flattening his body on the mat and raising his head and feet to discourage the reaction in his pants to that fantasy. He willed himself not to look her way, but she spoke, letting him know she was watching.
“You could probably do yoga really well, Tom. It’s also good for the core. I’ll show you some of the moves.”
“At home, maybe.” He glanced around to make sure no one heard, but the weight room was lightly populated during the off-season. The guys would be working out somewhere, maybe in their home gyms or at a posh resort. He doubted any of them did yoga—but he would if Alix showed him the positions. The things he’d do for love.
Wearing a sweatband around his brow, Vince Barbaro tossed his long black hair sending flecks of sweat into the air as if he were advertising a Stallone movie. Hell, Tom’s own hair grown out turned into a curly red tangle that didn’t toss at all, let alone like a stallion’s mane. Vince, buckled into a safety belt, squatted and pressed a free weight of amazing size. Raising the dumbbell over his head, he sent Alix another blazing smile. She didn’t acknowledge it. Tom had that going for him. Yoga, why not?
“Want to switch now?” Alix asked.
“Sure.” Tom sprang from his prone position and went to the machine where Alix wiped the seat with a towel before he took his place behind the weights. He doubted any of th
e fellows bothered, but probably the trainers did it for them. He’d never really noticed. Having a woman around could certainly make the training center a nicer place. He did his extensions while watching Alix plank out of the corner of his eye. She did the usual, then segued into a side plank, long body held up sideways on one arm and the other arm raised high. The sports bra girdled her breasts, but Tom could still see the soft swell of them under her tee. He lost his rhythm and the weights crashed down. Every male eye in the place stared their way—if they hadn’t been watching Alix already.
“Side planks, good for hip strength.” Alix flipped to do her other side away from him. That only made him concentrate on her buttocks again. He closed his eyes and quelled his desire with the weights.
“I think we’ve done enough for today,” he said after a while. She’d gone into some of her yoga poses, positions he couldn’t imagine doing—limber, so limber. “You want to get lunch and maybe do some sightseeing this afternoon, a carriage ride, eat some beignets?”
Alix toweled her face. “I want to get a shower and guess I’ll have to go back to the apartment for that.”
“For now…” He wiped himself down. “Let’s swing by the locker room on our way back.”
They did. The Dome’s locker room turned out to be under construction. In the rear, plumbers installed a private shower in a large cubical with a locking door. Of course, the décor ran to red and black, the team colors of the Sinners. The commode was an ebony throne and the sink an inky raised basin with arching golden fixtures. A boxed mirror framed in curlicues leaned against one wall and a rack of makeup lights waited for installation.
“Pour vous,” Tom intoned in his best French accent. French always worked when Brian Lightfoot wanted to impress the ladies. He gestured to the elegant dressing room. “Let it never be said the Sinners aren’t going all out for you. Next thing you know Dean will want the same accommodations in his contract.”
Alix took in her private space. “Dean doesn’t seem like the type, at least during his interviews.”
“Just joking. He isn’t.” Great, she appeared totally impressed by Dean, more than by the private bath. He guessed there was no sense in mentioning he’d suggested the makeup lights because his sisters had them in their bathrooms. “The place will be finished well before the start of the regular season.”
“It’s wonderful.”
“So, shower, lunch in the Quarter, and sightseeing? If you want to avoid the heat, we can go to the aquarium.”
“Afraid not. I forgot to tell you I have an interview again this afternoon. The PR man, Mr. Jackson, said to be sure I dressed and acted like a girl since last time I was wearing a jersey with Morfar’s old number on it. Do you mind that I’m number one? I asked for four, but he wanted to play up the connection to my grandfather.”
She seemed sweetly concerned that he would be jealous or angry. Tom gave her his best grin. “I don’t care. I always thought the great Ancient Andy was the first kicker for the expansion team, then Howdy McCoy, then me, number three. The others had long careers with the Sinners, and I hope to have the same. How about you?”
Alix shook her head. “I don’t want to punt until I’m past forty. I’d like to have some children way before then.”
Tom imagined them, all tall and lanky, maybe strawberry blondes, some with blue eyes and some with Billodeaux brown, a blending of their genes. “I hope you have as many as your heart desires.” He refrained from using the old come-on line, “I want you to have my babies.”
He hit the right note. She rewarded him with a smile that could melt Arctic ice. They headed back to the condo.
****
Alix primped. It wasn’t her style, but she did. Six dresses lay on her bed, three more than she’d ever owned before. She couldn’t decide which. She’d blown her long blonde bob dry and parted it on the side with the bangs brushed across her forehead for a different look and put on one of the new bras that pushed her breasts together in the center giving her more cleavage that she really didn’t want to show off. Now, she stood here in the matching bikini panties unable to decide which to put on. The black dress her sister coveted—really more eveningwear. Peach chiffon, pale green, lacy white, and one of those illusion outfits with a beige silhouette inside of the dark brown that was supposed to make a woman seem slimmer, not that she needed to be thinner. And the powder blue. Really, she should have consulted with Rika or Tille, but couldn’t bear the thought of their comments. Everyone told her she looked great in blue even if it was a flannel shirt. This one had a flared skirt that hit slightly above her knees. She put it on, no stockings in this heat.
Alix checked her makeup in the mirror. Brows and lashes darkened, eyes outlined in smoky gray, and lips coated in a deeper pink than her usual gloss. Mr. Jackson didn’t want her to fade out on the screen he said. Shoes, white wedges they’d actually had in her size! The saleslady deflated her delight a little by saying they carried bigger sizes and widths to serve the large transvestite population. Alix turned red, and her mother sucked in her breath before reprimanding the woman. “My daughter certainly is not a transvestite. She’s a football player.” Thanks, Mom. That made everything better. But the shoes were great!
Tom sat in the living room flipping through channels. Alix made her entrance. “Am I girly enough?” She held out her arms and enjoyed watching his eyes widen.
“You’re gorgeous. I’d take you anywhere.”
“Would you?” She waited, hoping he’d make a date with her, not just a casual offer to show her around.
Instead, he checked his watch. “You’d better get going. Traffic is always bad in the city.”
“Guess I should.”
He walked her to the door and opened it. In the wedges, she stood eye to eye with him, nose to nose, lips to lips. He swallowed and his adam’s apple bobbed in his long neck. “We could go to Mariah’s Place tonight. That’s where all the Sinners hang out, but most of them will be out of town.”
“I’d like that.” She should have lowered her eyes modestly, but she just kept staring into the dark depths of his.
“I mean, your family can come, too. The music is good.”
So, not a date. Honestly, she’d forgotten about Morfar and all the Lindstroms for a moment, still in town, still butting into her new life. “That would be great, thanks.”
The Sinners weren’t taking any chances of her getting lost on one-way streets. They’d sent a car, and Arturo bounded out to open the door for her. Unaccustomed to such service, she’d have to ask Tom about tipping the man. So much to learn.
At the television studio, she found the interview conducted by an angular woman named Bess Harding who asked her nothing much about football and everything about being the new kid in town. Did she find New Orleans very different from Madison? What kind of dumbass question was that?
Alix put on her Swedish accent a la Morfar. “Ja, sure. It’s colder in Madison even this time of year.” Bess tittered. At least she understood Alix was being sarcastic.
“So how are you coping with the heat here?”
“By sweating and drinking lots of water.” Bess, pencil-thin and garbed in an illusion dress something like the one Alix left lying on her bed, adjusted her stylish red wig and laughed at her statement as if it were the soul of wit and not just common sense.
“Are there any men in your life?”
“An entire team of them called the Sinners.” That drew more cackles.
“Where do you like to shop?”
“Anywhere that carries my size.” Alix stood up to emphasize her point and made her interviewer look like a stick figure beside her. “I’m a very big girl.”
“And most attractive. I don’t think you’ll be playing football very long before some man snaps you up. So, any tattoos?”
“Um, no.”
“Will you get one with the Sinners’ logo?”
“It’s only a three year contract, not a lifetime commitment, so no,” Alix replied.
More inane questions followed. The worst part was trying to figure out what to do with her long legs and arms. She finally folded her legs under her chair, placed her hands primly in her lap, and prayed for the interview to end. At last, it did.
Her interviewer stood up, coming to about Alix’s shoulder in height, and said, “Nice job, kiddo. You have a sort of innocent charm. Try to keep it. Don’t get hardened like me.” Up close Alix could see the deep lines and crow’s feet the makeup artist worked hard to conceal. That same person had amped up her own face until Alix feared she’d be taken for a streetwalker when she left the studio. Fortunately, the car awaited her—and Tom at home.
Chapter Seven
“Oh, I can’t believe we’re here!” Alix breathed. “Mariah’s Place—it’s famous.” She inhaled deeply as if absorbing the atmosphere of cigarettes long turned to ash and beer on tap as their group stood just inside the door letting their eyes adjust to the dimness and their ears to the throbbing of the music.
“It’s more of a dump than I thought it would be and stinks of smoke,” Tille said, maliciously crushing her sister’s enthusiasm.
Ancient Andy peered around. “Pretty much as I remember it, but not as hazy. They called the place Bennie’s back then.”
“Howdy McCoy bought the club for his mother. No smoking allowed anymore since Mariah is using oxygen for her COPD. Too bad we missed her opening act. It’s something to behold. Come on, you have to meet my step-grandmother.” Tom led the way.
He’d learned that leading Swedes was not like herding cats, which ran off in all directions, but more like moving boulders. They’d gone to gorge on seafood again, this time at Ralph’s and remained until the last fish bone was sucked clean and dessert consumed by all. Hence, the music had started about a half hour ago and a few couples had hit the dance floor.
Walking around them, Tom approached Mariah at her private table, the one with an empty chair dedicated to her deceased lover, Billy. With her big breasts shored up by numerous thin straps, she held court there in her outrageous white wig and a long silver gown with a slit in the front that showed off her legs clad in opaque tights and ending in glittering mile-high heels that would have killed anyone else her age. Tom introduced the Lindstrom clan. Mariah studied them with watery blue eyes. She’d had to abandon her bright green contacts because half the time she couldn’t get them in and refused to ask for help.