Griff Montgomery, Quarterback Page 15

  Griff took his time, letting his teammates shower first. They had someplace to go, and he didn’t. His heart got heavy. Sadness crept into his bones. His mind turned to the celebration on the West Coast in Kathy’s house. He wondered if the kids had watched his game. Probably not. They had their own lives now, and Uncle Griff was a million miles away.

  The locker room emptied out. Even Coach Bass was gone before Griff left. No reason to hurry. He ambled over to his car, turning up the collar of his jacket against the winterish wind. He picked up his pace, anxious to get to his vehicle and blast the heat.

  Within a few minutes, the interior was toasty, and Griff thawed out. Even Spike will be gone. When he remembered his victory, a small smile graced his lips. At least we won. He pulled into Eve Lane, which was lined with cars.

  A glance at neighboring houses showed bright lights and the silhouettes of people celebrating, eating, drinking, and being with loved ones. He raised his gaze to Lauren’s house, which was dark and empty looking. He gave a deep shuddering sigh.

  He parked and heard a dog bark. Almost sounded like Spike. Maybe she had taken pity on him and left the dog. He’d stocked up on popcorn and beer and planned to watch X-rated movies until Lauren returned. His shoulders sagged as he headed for the door.

  When he opened it, he nearly had a heart attack as a group of people shouted, “Surprise!”

  Lights were flicked on. The smell of something wonderful was in the air. He looked around and only recognized Lauren and her brother, Don.

  “What the hell?” Griff backed up.

  Lauren came forward and took his arm. “We wanted you to have Thanksgiving. So, we made a surprise dinner here for you. You remember Don? This is his wife, Connie, and their kids, Vinnie, Carl, Marissa, and Teeny.”

  Griff raised his hand in greeting. “You waited for me?”

  “Of course,” Lauren said. “Sure took you long enough.”

  Tears stung at the back of his eyes. Quarterbacks don’t cry unless they have broken bones. “Be right back,” he said. As his control slipped, he escaped into the kitchen, leaning against the counter and breathing hard.

  Lauren followed. “Is something wrong? Are you okay? Are you mad? We watched the game, and you seemed to be all right, but it took you a long time to get home. Is this the wrong thing?”

  “Fine. I’m fine.” He panted, taking a deep breath, and blinked rapidly. Then, he turned to her and smiled. “You planned this?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “And kept it from me?” He moved closer.

  “Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” She tried to step back, but was blocked by a wall.

  He advanced farther. “You let me think I was going to be alone?”

  “As I said…surprise?” She shrugged.

  He was right up against her, hands circling her waist, drawing her into his chest. “I could kiss you.” He did. “Thank you, Lauren. So much. How did you know?”

  “Your moping around here all week was a dead giveaway.” She chuckled, fastening her arms around his neck.

  “Hey! No PDA. There are minors here. Besides, I’m starvin’ and the turkey’s gonna get ruined,” Don said, invading the kitchen and breaking up their little make-out session.

  “It has to sit for a few minutes more. But we can get the other stuff out on the table.” Lauren broke away from Griff.

  “What can I do?”

  “Talk to the kids about the game. They have some questions. Lauren and I’ve got things in here under control. Now shoo.” Don eased the quarterback out of the room.

  * * * *

  Lauren blew out a breath when Griff was gone.

  Don turned off the heat under the boiling potatoes. “These are done.”

  “I can’t believe we pulled that off.”

  “Good planning, sis.” He emptied the hot water into the sink.

  “He liked it, right?” She pulled a salad out of the fridge.

  “Hell, yeah. The man’s not stupid.”

  “Thank you, Don. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Her brother picked up the masher and went to work on the cooked spuds. “Milk. Butter. Let’s go here.”

  Lauren whizzed around the kitchen, giving Don what he needed, pulling the sweet potato dish out of the oven, and finishing the green bean casserole. She carried dishes out to the table. Voices of children, mixed with Griff’s deep tones, drifted into the dining room. She smiled as happiness flowed through her.

  Listening to the chatter from the living room, accompanied by laughter, reminded her of her childhood. Back then, before her father got sick and when her parents still loved each other, holidays were joyous times. With her four siblings, the family had created a warm atmosphere of love and support. Now that her dad was ill, her mother had moved on, and two of her siblings lived across the continent, holidays had become fractured times of wistful memories and too much quiet.

  Don had folded Lauren into his family, with the support of his wife. While she was always welcomed in their home, she yearned for her own family, own children, own traditions. Looked like this year she’d get as close as she ever would to having it all. Making Griff happy pleased her. She pushed questions about how long this would last out of her mind. I’m going to enjoy this holiday. Give thanks for all that I have.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Don was carving the turkey. Griff’s face lit up when he spied the bird and the trimmings. After the addition of salt and pepper, the mashed potatoes were ready. She brought them into the dining room and called the family to the table. The kids came running. After all, it was eight-thirty, and everyone was starved.

  Don placed the stuffing on the table and sat down at the head. Griff graciously deferred and took a seat next to Lauren. Everyone clasped hands while Don recited a blessing. Griff gave her hand a squeeze. When she turned her gaze to him, he smiled at her and mouthed the words “thank you.”

  As soon as the prayer was over, they passed around the food.

  “How much do you eat after a game?” Carl asked, plopping a big spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate.

  “A lot.”

  “Like five steaks or something?” Teeny, the youngest, wondered.

  He laughed. “Not exactly. Maybe one steak, or a couple pieces of turkey.” He licked his lips.

  “My sister makes a fine one,” Don said, shoveling a forkful of dressing into his mouth.

  Griff took a bite and looked around the room. “I agree.”

  “Were you worried when your receiver got hurt?” Vinnie asked.

  “A little, yeah. You never want anyone to get hurt.”

  “I mean, about the game,” Vinnie went on.

  “No, no. We had it under control.” Griff took a healthy helping of the green bean casserole.

  “You just squeaked out a victory. You weren’t worried?” Lauren piped up.

  “When you have a team like mine, you know they can pull off great plays and win before time runs out."

  Lauren sat quietly and ate, listening to the conversation and accepting compliments about the food. She marveled at the amount Griff ate. He obviously needed to recoup his strength. Between bites, he asked each of Don’s kids about their school, what classes were their favorites, and if they played any sports. He bemoaned the fact it was too dark for a game of touch football after the meal.

  Connie had prepared her special dessert, chocolate layer cake with peanut butter frosting. And there were the two pumpkin pies Lauren had made that morning. The children were instructed to clear the table. Lauren let Connie prepare coffee and serve the desserts.

  Griff rubbed his stomach. “Don’t know if I have room for cake.”

  “You have to. Connie’s an amazing baker.”

  He patted his belly. “Well, in that case. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” Griff cupped her cheek. “You’re something else,” he whispered.

  “Uh, oh. Dad, quarterback’s about to make another pass,” Marissa called to her
father from across the table. “Are you living together, Aunt Lauren?”

  Griff blushed. Lauren pushed his hand away and laughed. “No. We’re roommates.”

  “Roommates with benefits,” Vinnie, the oldest, snickered.

  “You can’t get away with anything with this family,” she said.

  “I see.” His eyes glowed with something she hadn’t seen before.

  Maybe it’s more than lust?

  Connie took dessert orders. Even after such a large meal, everyone made room for a slice of pie or a piece of cake. When coffee was served, the children retreated to the living room, each trying to claim the right to decide what to watch on Griff’s huge, flat screen television.

  “You watched Miracle on 34th Street last year.”

  “The Dog Show, it’s recorded.”

  Lauren tuned out the kids’ voices and sipped her brew.

  “Connie, Lauren, that was a meal to be proud of. Fantastic. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome, Griff. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” Connie said, eyeing the quarterback.

  Griff’s gaze drifted over to Lauren.

  “I mean from Don,” Connie added.

  “Lauren is amazing.” Griff wiped his lips with a napkin. “I’m lucky she opened her door to me.”

  Lauren rose and headed for the kitchen before the questioning started. Griff joined the clean-up. They stayed with it, dividing up the food, packing some for Don and Connie, and stowing the delectable dishes that remained. By eleven thirty, the Farradays were packed in their car, heading back to Rhode Island. Griff rested his hand on Lauren’s shoulder as the two of them waved farewell from the door. Spike yawned.

  “I’ll take him,” the athlete said, fastening the harness around the pug.

  Lauren got undressed, slipping on her cozy, pink, chenille robe, and settled down in front of the dying fire. Griff returned with a bottle of fine brandy he’d bought. He plucked two small snifters from a cabinet and joined her.

  Right as he sat down, his phone rang. It was Kathy. He got up and moved away to talk. Lauren watched his expression. She saw it change and assumed he was speaking to either his niece or nephew as his features softened and a look of joy settled in his smile.

  This makes his day perfect. She rolled the smooth, light brown liquid over her tongue and relaxed back against the sofa.

  A soft sigh and a sleepy grin grabbed Griff’s attention when he hung up. “Fading on me already?”

  “Long day.”

  “Me, too.”

  He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. She slid between the sheets while he got undressed. After flipping the light off, he joined her, sliding over to her side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.

  “Thank you for giving me one of the best days ever.”

  “I’d think your victory did that for you.”

  “Yeah, but this surprise Thanksgiving…wow. You have no idea.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  “I’m too tired to make love. I hope that’s okay.”

  She laughed. “Me, too. Cuddling’s the best.”

  She snuggled her back into his chest, feeling a slight tickle from his chest hair against her skin. His arm closed around her waist. He curled his fingers around her breast and sighed. A kiss below her ear made her tingle.

  “You’re amazing,” he whispered, before his breathing became even and a slight snore joined Spike’s louder one from where the pooch slept at the bottom of the mattress.

  Comfort and protection surrounded her as she drifted off to sleep in the embrace of her lover.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lauren wound a wool scarf around her neck. Bundled up in a down jacket, her new corduroy pants, scarf and a hat, she was prepared to attend Griff’s game. Don and Vinnie would meet her at the stadium. Singing along with the radio, she drove through the back roads where the trees were bare and the air winterish. Snug in her small car with the heat on, peace and happiness washed over her.

  Life had been remarkably pleasant. New work was bringing in money she was saving for when Griff moved back into his place. His rent paid her bills, with a money left over. She had Spike to curl up with when she read. And then there was Griff.

  Was she in love? Lauren had skirted the question for months. Finding a man had been put so far back on her list, she had forgotten about it. But life with Griff was great. No hassles, no commitment, no worries—fun for today and no expectations for tomorrow. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it?

  Don spread out the Kings blanket he had bought, and they sat down. Lauren kept her eyes trained on Griff when the team had the ball. She noticed his confidence, grace, and perfectly targeted passes.

  “His completion record is amazing,” Don said.

  “I wouldn’t know. But he seems to be getting the ball to a guy who can catch it a lot.”

  “That’s a completion record.” Don cocked an eyebrow.

  “Who knew?” She shrugged.

  “He’s the leader in the division. Probably the whole NFL.”

  Lauren watched Buddy one time, then Homer Calloway the next, pluck the ball out of the air and race downfield. The Kings played the Nebraska Coyotes and won easily. She jumped up as the final whistle blew and cheered with Don.

  Life was better when Griff won. They celebrated. He appeared relaxed and happy, unlike when the team lost. Then, he’d brood and spend hours in front of the big screen, watching the game over and over again to figure out what had gone wrong. He’d be short-tempered, stormy, and go off by himself. She hated it when they lost.

  Don and Lauren hung back a bit after the game to congratulate the quarterback. They waited by the team’s door. Lauren rubbed her gloved hands together to keep them from getting numb. It was the last day of November, and the cold had penetrated her clothing.

  With a shiver, she turned to Don. “Wish Griff ’d hurry up.”

  “So do I.”

  At the sound of footsteps behind her, Lauren whirled around. “You waiting for Griff Montgomery?”

  “Yep. You a fan?” the stranger asked.

  “You could say that. And you are?”

  “Cheryl Charles. Griff’s fiancée.”

  Lauren choked on her saliva. “What?”

  “Yeah. No sense waiting in the cold for an autograph or asking him on a date.”

  “I’m living with him,” Lauren defended, sticking out her chin a bit.

  “Oh?” The redhead’s eyebrows lifted. “Maybe you’d better make other plans. I’m going to move in with him. We’ve been together for a couple of years.”

  Lauren fisted her hands on her hips. “You’re not moving into my house.”

  “Of course not. Into his house.” Cheryl straightened up and stared at Lauren.

  “This is all news to me. When did you make these plans?”

  “When he was in L.A. I flew out here to be with him.”

  “He never mentioned it to me.”

  “Why would he? If you’ve got someone on the side, would you tell? I wouldn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t have anyone on the side if I was in a committed relationship.”

  “Neither would Griff. So, I guess that means he’s not committed to you.” A cruel smile curled Cheryl’s lips.

  No commitment. Remember. Didn’t you say that to him? To yourself?

  Lauren was silent. Before she could reply, Don tugged on her jacket and pointed. Lauren raised her gaze and saw Griff striding toward them.

  He froze. His gaze hopped from Lauren to Cheryl and back to Lauren.

  Cheryl was the first to speak. “Griff!” She ran to him, throwing her arms around him.

  Lauren’s heart rate doubled, and her mouth went dry. Her pulse drummed in her ear.

  He put his hands on Cheryl’s upper arms and pushed her away. He said something, but Lauren couldn’t hear. Right after speaking, he looked up at her, his brow creased, his mouth set in a straight line.

&
nbsp; “Shit. I’m outta here.” Don turned to leave.

  Lauren clamped a vise-like grip on his forearm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  * * * *

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Griff kept his voice low, but his grip on Cheryl’s arms tight.

  “We didn’t part on good terms. I said some things…I regret.”

  Griff glanced up at Lauren. Their gazes locked. Her lower lip quivered. “Shit. You’ve ruined everything,” he said to Cheryl, without looking at her.

  Lauren’s hand covered her mouth as she backed away. Her other fisted Don’s sleeve and pulled him with her.

  “Wait, Lauren!” Griff called, his legs too tired to run.

  But it was too late. She turned toward the lot and sprinted to her car. Griff found the strength to follow, but she was inside with the doors locked before he could stop her. He pounded on the window. Her tear-stained face was only inches from his, yet she turned the key and started the motor.

  “I can explain,” he begged, knocking again.

  She trained her eyes in front of her and threw the vehicle in gear. She roared away before he could stop her.

  “Fuck!” he yelled at no one.

  Don looked at him and shrugged.

  “It’s not what you think, Don.”

  “Doesn’t look good, man.” He raised his shoulders.

  “I know. I’ll explain at home.”

  Cheryl caught up. She smiled up at Griff, pawing at his sleeve.

  He brushed her off. “What did you say to her?” He shifted his weight.

  “Nothing…I…”

  “You said you were his fiancée,” Don piped up.

  Griff’s eyebrows shot up. “You lied to her?”

  “It’s not really a lie—”

  “Yes, it is. We’re not engaged. I never proposed. In fact, I broke up with you when I was in L.A.”

  “We didn’t have much time together. I know if I had more time alone with you that I could change your mind.”

  “You can’t, Cheryl. It’s over between us. I tried to be nice about it. Maybe I wasn’t. I’m sorry about that. But you and I are history, and no amount of alone time’ll change that.”