Griff Montgomery, Quarterback Page 9

  “Oh?” She sat up, rubbed her eyes once, and swung her legs down from the sofa.

  “Yeah. Training camp starts in a couple of weeks.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Means I’ll be gone all day and won’t be able to walk Spike in the afternoon. Can we switch? I’ll take nights, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. What’s training camp?”

  “Don’t you know anything about football?”

  “Not much. Used to go to my college games.”

  Griff plopped down next to her. “Training camp is where we run plays, scrimmage, work out, fix strategies, and stuff like that.”

  “What’s a scrimmage?”

  “Look it up.”

  “How long does this last?”

  “We had a good season last year, so we’re only doing it for three weeks this time.”

  “Are you going away?”

  “They’re having it at Kings’ Stadium. So, I can come home every day. We report on July twenty-fifth, and it’s done by August twentieth. Two weeks before the season opener.”

  “When’s that?”

  “Right after Labor Day.”

  “Guess I’ll have to increase the amount of food in the house, then.”

  “Probably. Plenty of protein. Steaks, chicken, fish, that stuff.”

  “Got it. Bet you eat like a horse during the season.”

  “I can pack it away.”

  “I bought groceries today. Tell me what you can’t eat, don’t eat, or are allergic to.”

  “I eat everything. But I like to eat healthy on season. No chips or ice cream type of deal.”

  “Fine by me. I eat that way all the time.”

  “I can tell.”

  She sensed his gaze gliding up her body like a warm hand. She fidgeted, opening and closing her book.

  Griff pushed to his feet. “Sorry about the last minute notice about dinner. Going out with a new member of the team.”

  “That’s business?”

  “It is when Coach tells you to train the guy.”

  “I get it. No problem. Saves me the trouble, ’cause I’m going out with a friend.”

  “Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “You’re not the only one who has friends.” She petted Spike, slipped her bookmark in place, and stood. “Time to change.”

  “Going out fancy? With just a friend?”

  Is he jealous? Do I have to report on my social life? What social life? “Not fancy. But not in an old T-shirt, either. With a member of my sup—uh…my book club.”

  “Oh. Have fun.” He turned and headed for his room.

  Lauren put on a grass green tank top. She loved the way the color highlighted the emerald of her eyes. After running a comb through her hair, she grabbed a long sleeve, cotton shirt, in case The Savage Beast had mega-air conditioning. She fed Spike and called out a goodbye to Griff as she left the house.

  While she drove to the bar, she smiled as she thought about Marnie. Her friend, who was a social worker, had suggested the group to Lauren. Marnie had had several miscarriages, but she was hopeful that the next pregnancy would hold. The group had been helpful to Lauren, and she was grateful to Marnie. The two women had grown close, sharing their experiences over glasses of wine, laughing and crying together.

  Marnie was seated at a table near the bar when Lauren entered. “Sam said this is my last night out until my first trimester is over.”

  “I’m honored you chose to spend it with me.”

  “Who else? You so understand what I’m going through. But this time, I’m calm. I took a leave of absence from my job.”

  “You’re going to rest.”

  “Rest, read, and remain calm. Think positive thoughts. In the meantime, I’m starving. All I could think about all afternoon was that bleu cheese burger you mentioned.”

  The waitress came over, raising a small pad and pen. “Hi, I’m Carla. What can I get for you today?”

  The women ordered burgers.

  “No drinks, ladies?”

  “Just water. I’m pregnant,” Marnie said, beaming.

  “Better you than me,” Carla responded, scribbling on her pad and heading back to the bar.

  Lauren stared at her back. “That was pretty rude.”

  “I don’t care. I’m happy. That’s all that counts.”

  * * * *

  Griff pulled into a spot right on Elm Street. Buddy and Tony parked in the lot behind the building. Griff waited at the door for them. A crowd was already gathering. He caught Carla’s eye. She shot him a frosty look, and he shivered as the coldness of it chilled him to the bone. She’s not the forgive-and-forget type.

  The three men bellied up to the bar. Griff introduced his pals to Carla. She smiled flirtatiously at the two football players.

  “She yours?” Buddy asked Griff quietly, who shook his head.

  Not anymore.

  “I’ve been wondering when you were gonna bring your teammates in. Seems like you picked the two best looking,” Carla said, shooting a mean look at Griff.

  He swallowed a mouthful of beer and shifted his weight. This is gonna be bad.

  “I see your girlfriend here has good taste.” Buddy took a gulp of his drink.

  “Oh, I’m not his girlfriend. Lauren is.” Carla glared at Griff.

  Suddenly, the collar on his shirt got tight.

  “Lauren? You know Lauren?” Buddy asked.

  Oh, shit. Here it comes.

  “No, but I’d love to meet her,” she said, casting her gaze on Griff. “I’ve got a message for her.”

  Over my dead body. He let out a breath before he guzzled more beer.

  “That’s easy. She’s sitting right there.” Buddy pointed to Lauren and her friend, who were munching on burgers.

  Griff turned to look and spat out his drink. Holy shit.

  “That’s Lauren? Griff’s Lauren?”

  “Yep, that’s her,” Buddy said, ignoring the kick from Griff. “Ouch.”

  Carla fisted a hand and rested it on her hip. “So, she’s your girlfriend?”

  “No, no, no way. She’s my landlady. I’m renting a room with her while my house is being renovated.” The words poured out in rapid fire.

  “Even better.” Carla licked her lips. “I’ll bet she has no idea you’re having sexual fantasies about her.”

  “I’m not. It was an accident,” he hissed.

  “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that. Wonder what she’d think if she knew?”

  “Don’t, Carla. Please don’t. I’m begging you.” Griff reached for her arm, but she shook him off.

  Buddy faced the quarterback. “What the hell did you do?”

  “You don’t wanna know.”

  “Oh no. You didn’t?” His eyebrows rose.

  Griff nodded. “Guilty.”

  “Whoa, stand back, Tony. There’s gonna be some fireworks in a minute.” Buddy pushed Hastings to the wall.

  “You wouldn’t be lying, now, would ya?” Carla asked, directing her stare at Buddy.

  “See for yourself.” He gestured to the brunette at the corner table.

  “Lauren!” Carla cupped her hands and yelled.

  Lauren stood up, turning to face them.

  “You Lauren?”

  “Please, please, Carla. I’m sorry, so sorry,” Griff whispered. “Don’t do this.”

  “Yes? Lauren Farraday.” Her gaze traveled from Carla to Griff.

  No place to hide. This is gonna get ugly. Sweat gathered under his arms and on his forehead. His heartbeat doubled. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to look relaxed under Lauren’s scrutiny.

  “I have a message for you,” Carla called out.

  “Carla, come on. After everything we’ve been through,” Griff pleaded.

  “You’re right. Because of our history, I’m not gonna shout it out.”

  “Thank God. Thank you so much,” he said, heaving a huge sigh.

  “I’m gonna tell her soft and slow, righ
t in her ear.” Carla was heading toward Lauren before Griff could stop her. He tried to block her way, but she scooted to the left, giving him the slip. When she got to her destination, she bent down, cupped her hands, and spoke softly.

  The room was so quiet Griff could hear a crow caw from a tree outside. The patrons in the bar stared at Carla and Lauren. A few looked at Griff and snickered.

  “What?” Lauren straightened in her seat. “What? No. I don’t believe it.”

  Carla leaned over and spoke again.

  Lauren blushed pink then redder and redder. She shot a look at Griff. He stared at her, pleading with his eyes. She stumbled up from the table. “I’m sorry, Marnie. I’ve got to go.”

  “It’s on the house,” Carla said, returning to the bar. Her eyes glistened with malevolence as she glared at Griff.

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Just be happy I didn’t scream it out to the whole room.” She returned to washing glasses.

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “Yeah? Feel betrayed? Now you know how I felt, jerk.”

  Griff tossed some bills on the counter and left. He glanced up and down the street, but Lauren was nowhere to be seen. The last thing he wanted to do was return home, but he had no idea where else he could go. He got behind the wheel and drove, his sense of dread growing as he neared the old Victorian.

  Lauren’s car was in the garage, but the house was quiet when he slipped inside. The only noise was the click click click of Spike’s nails on the tile floor of the kitchen as he trotted over to greet the quarterback. He bent to pet the dog.

  “Do you always do that?” Her voice startled him.

  “Do what?” he asked, his gaze focused on Spike.

  “You know what.”

  “I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” He glanced up to see her lips compressed into a thin line, her brows knitted.

  “Call out the wrong name when you’re having sex.”

  “Nope. Never done it before.”

  “Why did you call mine?”

  He stood up. “How do you know it was yours?” Best defense is a good offense.

  She placed her hands on her hips. “You know more than one Lauren?”

  “Maybe I do.”

  As the idea clearly grew in her mind, a blush returned to her cheeks.

  Now, she thinks I’ve got the hots for some other Lauren. Damn, she’s gullible. “If I called out your name, so what?” He shrugged.

  “So what? It’s a lot more than ‘so what’.”

  “Is it? What if I did have the hots for you? That’s over now. One kiss. I’m satisfied.” What the hell are you doing?

  She averted her eyes, but he could see her blinking rapidly.

  What the hell have you done, idiot? “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Hell, I was a whole lot more embarrassed when it happened, guaranteed. It’s nothing against you.”

  “I thought it meant you liked me. Wanted me instead of her.”

  “And that’d make you mad?”

  “No, but being humiliated in a bar full of strangers would. Is she your regular date?”

  “Let’s not talk about her. That’s over now.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Got any of that stew left over?”

  “Trying to change the subject?”

  He chuckled. “You noticed.”

  “I guess it’s your turn to be embarrassed.”

  “The stew?” He sensed blood rushing to his face.

  “It’s gone, but I bought some steaks today.”

  “You got a grill?”

  She indicated the back door.

  “Awesome! Gimme. I’m a master griller.” He motioned for her to hand over the food.

  “Wine?” she asked.

  “Beer.” He snatched a bottle from the fridge while Lauren put the steaks on a platter. She fished a long fork from a drawer and handed everything to him. He headed for the back door. “How do you like your steak?” he hollered.

  “Well done.”

  “Sure know how to ruin a good piece of meat,” he called out, just before the screen door slammed shut.

  * * * *

  While Griff was playing country music on the radio, singing along and grilling the steaks, Lauren called Marnie. After telling her exactly what happened, she asked for advice.

  “That means he likes me, right?”

  “Lauren, don’t be an idiot. If a man calls your name at a…significant moment during sex, it means more than just he likes you.”

  “It means he wants to sleep with me?”

  “Duh. I can’t believe you have the sexiest man in the state in your backyard, grilling steaks and wanting to have you for dessert…and you’re worried.”

  “I don’t want to get involved. You know why.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “You should understand.”

  “One miscarriage doesn’t mean you’ll miscarry every time.”

  “But if I do, he’d leave me, just like Bob. Griff wants kids. He said it was a deal breaker.”

  “Why don’t you just go out with him? Sleep with him? You might not even like each other. You’re projecting too far ahead.”

  “He told me things… He’s an incredibly decent guy.”

  “So? There are lots of decent guys.”

  “Not like Griff.”

  “Can’t you go on the pill and just have an affair with him? Probably do you good.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He’s really gorgeous. How can you resist him? Does he walk around in a towel?”

  “The bathroom is in his room, so no. But he’s ventured out in his boxers.”

  “And you didn’t attack him?”

  “Get real.”

  “I would have.”

  “If Sam heard you talking like this…while you’re carrying his child. Shame on you.”

  “I love to hear those words. Say it again.”

  Lauren grinned. “Carrying his child.”

  “I’m sorry. Am I being insensitive? Would you like to be carrying Griff’s child?”

  Lauren sensed heat in her cheeks. The back door opened, and Griff marched in.

  “Gotta go.” Lauren hung up.

  “What’s up? You’re red as a beet.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, his legs spread wide. “You’re a bad liar. I catch you every time.”

  “It’s private. My conversation with my friend.”

  “The one at The Savage Beast today?”

  “Yeah. Marnie.”

  “Okay, don’t tell me. Do you have any steak sauce? Meat’s almost ready.”

  Lauren ran her gaze over his biceps, shoulders, and chest, barely hidden by a sleeveless T-shirt. It clung to him, outlining his abs. A bit of dark chest hair peeked around the neckline. Her mouth watered, and her fingers twitched, aching to touch him. His jeans were tight, but not obscene. She licked her lips then swallowed as an image of him naked flashed through her brain.

  “Earth to Lauren.” He waved his hand in front of her face. “Do you have any steak sauce? I like to put it on just before the meat’s done.”

  She forced herself to concentrate on his words. “Right here.” She opened a cabinet and took down a bottle. His warm, rough fingers touched hers as he took it. She looked up into his eyes, sparkling with merriment. A shiver shook her.

  He smiled. “You’re not mad anymore, right?”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Griff placed the steaks, cooked to perfection, on the dining room table. Lauren had already set a plate of corn on the cob and a salad there. He refreshed her wine and took another beer. They sat down.

  “We need steak knives. Do you have any?”

  “In the silverware drawer.”

  She heard the clink of metal on metal as Griff searched for the sharp implements. She joined him in the kitchen to help.

  He pu
lled out a baby spoon and held it up. “Hey, what’s this?”

  Lauren froze at the sight of a remnant from her pregnant days. Bob swore he got rid of that stuff. What’s it doing here? Her breath came quicker, and she began to pant. Panic grew inside her. Emotion at the reminder of the baby she’d never have washed through her like a tsunami. “Where did you find that?” She could barely talk.

  “In here.”

  “Throw it out. Throw it out.” Her hysteria grew. “Throw it out!” she screamed at him.

  “Okay, okay. Calm down.”

  Tears blinded her as a sob broke from her throat. She fled the room, running up the stairs. After slamming her door, she flopped down on the bed, sobbing. In a minute, she was spent. As she lay there, shame filled her. When am I going to get over this? Women lose children every day. I’m not unusual.

  A soft tap on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Lying again. Can I come in?”

  He didn’t wait for her answer, which would have been “no.” He opened the door slowly and crept in. Lauren didn’t move. She closed her eyes, burying her face in the antique comforter, not anxious to face him or explain.

  “I threw out the spoon.” He crawled up the bed to lie next to her. His big hand rubbed her back.

  “Thanks,” she said, her voice muffled by the quilt.

  The warmth and motion of his fingers calmed her. She wanted more and turned on her side to face him. He inched closer, easing her into his embrace. Lauren snuggled into his neck and shoulder, snaking her arm around his middle as he held her. She inhaled his scent mixed with a hint of pine soap, which soothed and aroused her.

  He rolled over, enabling her to rest her cheek on his pecs. Her eyelids fluttered. He hummed a tune she didn’t recognize and continued to stroke her back. The vibration of his chest against her own was like a massage. Within a few minutes, she was sound asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Hunger woke Lauren at nine o’clock. Clad only in her bra and panties, she threw on a short robe and crept downstairs, trying not to make a sound. Griff had wrapped a plate of food for her and left it on the kitchen table. She licked her lips as she uncovered the meal. The steak looked perfect. She pulled utensils out of a drawer and sat down. The meat was juicy, even though it was well done. She closed her eyes to savor the flavor of the fine sirloin.