After All These Years (One Pass Away #2) (13 page)

“It does.”

“Good.” Sean raised the hem of her nightgown. “So pretty.”

“Lavender,” Riley breathed. “Silk and lace.”

“I wasn’t talking about lace.” He ran his hand up the inside
of her thigh, stopping where his gaze was focused. “But you do feel like silk.”

No more talk. No more questions. Riley concentrated on Sean.
On his touch and the way only he could make her feel.

“I want to be inside of you. Ready?”

Riley was ready. She had been for years.

“Yes. Now, Sean. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Sean nudged at her, finding a
warm, welcoming wetness that left little doubt how ready she was. “And since I
can’t wait a second longer. Feel me, Riley. Every bit of me is for you. Only
you.”

Only her. Sean was talking about sex. Here. Now. Riley
understood that. However, it was impossible not let her heart open a bit more.
With wanting and hope.

The ride was wild. Sean took her up. Higher and higher. Then
pushed her over. Falling with her. There wasn’t a crash. Riley floated back to
Earth.

The first thing she became aware of was Sean’s ragged
breathing. The weight of his body on hers comforted instead of crushed. He was
big and strong, outweighing her by a hundred pounds, but Riley didn’t care. She
wanted to stay like this, hot, sweaty and oh, so satisfied, as long as
possible.

“I should move.”

“No.” Riley tightened her grip on his waist.

“I should say thank you.”

She smiled, her lips brushing his shoulder.

“Okay.”

Chuckling, Sean shifted until he was on his side with Riley
draped over his chest. Somehow—experience, she supposed—he removed the condom
and pulled the covers over with little effort.

“Thank you, Riley.”

Riley smiled again, this time with her mouth against his.
After a lingering kiss, she relaxed against him.

“If you are very, very good, I’ll let you thank me again.
All night long.”

THE KNIGHTS’ FIRST loss of the season occurred three days after
the picture of Riley and Gaige burned up the internet.

No one thought there was a connection. The official team
statement said as much. The fact that they addressed the issue spoke volumes.
Everyone could deny it all they wanted. The average Knights’ fan believed there
was a rift in the locker room.

Normally, it was a simple matter to gloss over a minor
argument. These things happened all the time in the course of a season.
However, when the perceived problem was a love triangle between Gaige Benson,
Sean McBride, and Riley Preston, no amount of sugar coating worked.

The press smelled high-priced blood, and they weren’t
letting go of the scent.

“It’s ridiculous.”

“I agree.”

“I’ve hugged Gaige hundreds of times.”

“I’ve seen you do it.”

“Why now?”

“We all know the answer to that.”

Riley and Sean were having dinner with Logan and Claire at
the newly engaged couple’s downtown apartment. It was a rental. Logan hadn’t
wanted to buy until he knew his comeback was a success. He was making a base salary
laden with incentives.

By the looks of things, Logan Price was going to have a
hefty bank account by the end of the season. He and Claire planned on looking
for someplace permanent in the spring.

“A hug is a hug. Until it becomes common knowledge that you’re
dating a member of the team—and the man you were caught hugging is a different
Knight.”

“And not just any Knight. Gaige Benson. Maybe the most
famous football player in the country.
And
Sean’s best friend.”

Claire summarized the situation perfectly. Said aloud, it
sounded crazier than ever.

“What does the team think?”

“Riley.” Sean rubbed her back. “They know Gaige. Half of the
guys have been with the team long enough to remember you. We told them there is
nothing to the story, and they believe us.”

“He’s right.” Logan joined them in the living room. He
handed them each a cup of coffee. “The offensive line offered to kick some
blogger butt if they keep pecking at you.”

Riley smiled. Logan’s personal drama happened while she was
in Boston. His injury during his rookie season and failed return the next year.
She was glad to be here to witness his improbable comeback. The triumph over
adversity angle made his story irresistible. Happily, the man was a nice guy.

His love for Claire was obvious to the most casual observer.
Riley approved. For the team. And for her friend.

“It’s a tempting offer, Logan. Unfortunately, there’s no
taking it back. Any picture can look bad with the right spin.”

Riley knew when the picture was taken. The day she visited
Coach Coleman during practice. Gaige and Sean joined her on the sidelines. The
photographer caught the moment she hugged Gaige. Innocent enough. Until you
added the caption.
Owner’s daughter. Spreading the love around?
It went
on to mention Riley and Sean’s relationship.

Riley knew as gossip went, it could have been worse. Then
the Knights lost. Gaige threw an interception. Sean dropped a pass. And
suddenly, the world was ending.

Riley was cast in the role of Pandora, Delilah, and Yoko
Ono. All rolled into one.
One game
! If they lost again on Sunday, she
wouldn’t be able to show her face in public.

Sean put a more positive spin on it.

“When we win on Sunday, all of this shit will be forgotten.”

“From your mouth to the football God’s ear.”

THE KNIGHTS WON. Big.

A home game, the stadium was packed to the rafters. Because
the game was against a bitter division rival, the crowd was particularly vocal.
Unlike the last time, Riley didn’t sit in the crowd. The owners’ box wasn’t the
perfect solution, but she refused to stay at home. She hadn’t done anything
wrong. Hiding away as though she had, wasn’t the solution.

“I’m surprised to see you. I can’t fault your nerve.”

Riley glanced at her mother. Overdressed, as usual. In
Corrine Preston’s opinion, diamonds and fur worked for any occasion.

“I always support the team.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Corrine’s
laugh had a sharp edge to it. “In my day—”

“In your day? You have the nerve to pull out that chestnut?”
Riley was in no mood to turn the other cheek. Her mother was likely to slap it.
“I know how many Knights I’ve slept with. Want to compare lists?”

“You smug little bitch.”

“Why are
you
here, Mother? You only show up when
there’s a new crop of rookies to prey upon.”

Riley regretted the words the moment she said them. Not out
of respect. That ship hadn’t sailed—it never left port. Exchanging barbs with
Corrine served no purpose. When she was younger, it gave her a sick little
thrill to mentally out joust her. Now, it made her tired.

“You believe you have it all, don’t you? Money, youth,
power. It’s an illusion. Nothing is forever. In twenty years, that pretty
football player you’re screwing will be on his third, much younger wife. And
you’ll have what? This team? You won’t be so sassy then.”

Corrine glided away, leaving behind a cloud of French
perfume and bitterness. Unlike her mother, Riley knew her life would never be
an empty round of boring parties and charity luncheons.

Life was a series of choices. Some good. Some bad. Corrine
chose to marry Gerald Preston. She chose to stay married to him. If her mother
were unhappy, she had only herself to blame.

“I see your mother is doing her best to spread sunshine all
over the place.” Ross Morrisey offered Riley a sandwich. The gourmet grilled
cheese sat untouched on his plate beside a scoop of equally fancy potato salad.

“No, thanks.”

Ross took a sip of scotch. Riley knew the bar was stocked
with each board member’s favorite drink. Ross liked an aged single malt.

“She almost had my wife in tears. I’ve never hit a woman,
but—”

“This is where I should step up as the loyal daughter.”
Reconsidering, Riley took the sandwich. “I’ve never defended her before, I can’t
start now.”

“No one blames you, Riley. Your parents are, for the most
part, indefensible snakes.”

It was said with no heat or rancor. She wondered how two
people could be so coldly disliked. Didn’t heat automatically accompany hate?
Or was it hate? Riley disliked her parents. She didn’t care enough to hate
them.

“You knew my grandfather. How did such a wonderful man
produce a son like Gerald Preston?” Riley and Ross had spoken on many subjects.
This was one they had avoided. Today, for some reason, Riley needed an answer.

“Douglas was a good man, Riley. However, he wasn’t perfect.
It’s good and right that you idolize him. I think if he were here, he would be
the first to admit he wasn’t the best father in the world.”

“But—” Riley started to protest.

“Don’t get me wrong. Douglas wasn’t abusive. He was
neglectful. You had the best of him—after he made his money and wasn’t driven
by ambition. Gerald didn’t see very much of his father. It isn’t an excuse for
how he is now. It is the reason, at least partially, that he resents you.”

“Resents?”

“Too mild?” Ross’ words had a teasing tone.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s as good a word as any. What my
parents feel for me has always been a mystery. I’m sorry my father didn’t grow
up knowing the Douglas Preston I knew. I wonder if it would have made a
difference.”

“You blow me away, Riley.” Ross shook his head. “You have
insight the rest of us can only dream about.”

“Insight? Is that what it is? I thought I was stating the
obvious. My father is a petty, small-minded man. He has no reason to be. He was
given every advantage. Education. Money. He’s seen the world. Read extensively.
Yet for some reason, his view is narrow and self-involved. Do you think that’s
because of his daddy issues? I don’t. I think it’s all on him.”

“Run for president. You’ll have my vote. Laugh if you will,
I’m serious.”

“I know.
That’s
why I’m laughing. I thought you were
my friend. Why would you wish something like that on me? Besides, I’m a
Democrat. And a woman.”

“Shh.” Ross looked around in mock horror. “You’re standing
in a room of ultra-Republicans. You just spoke a dirty word.”

“Democrat?” With her tongue only half in her cheek, Riley
added, “or woman?”

Ross’ bark of laughter garnered a lot of attention. Wanting
to know the source of the joke, Riley soon found herself surrounded by half of
the Knights’ board of directors. These were men she worked with in her
consulting business. Getting an in with them had been simple. Once Ross was in,
the rest followed.

Riley had used one of her grandfather’s business tactics.
When trying to infiltrate a group, go for the alpha first. It worked. The bonus
was, Riley had acquired a friend as well as a client.

Ross Morrisey was one of the good ones and Riley was glad to
have him on her side.

Halftime rolled around and the Knights were well in control
of the game. They coasted through the second half, Coach Coleman taking out
most of the starters in the fourth quarter.

So much for her womanly wiles destroying the team.

Riley let herself into her condo. She and Sean had agreed
that it didn’t make sense for her to wait around after the game. His routine
varied depending on how may news outlets requested interviews. He planned on
joining some of the guys for a drink.

Riley told Sean to go home and get some sleep when he was
finished. They didn’t need to see each other every day. Sean didn’t agree. He
would call when he was on his way. No later than eight o’clock.

She checked her messages. There wasn’t anything that needed
her immediate attention. Riley opened her refrigerator. One look told her what
she already knew. Dinner would either be cereal and milk that had an iffy
sell-by date—or takeout.

Every now and then. Check that. More often than not, when
she found herself in this situation, Riley considered learning how to cook.
Something beyond toast and scrambled eggs. Occasionally, she worked herself
into the belief that she would take a class.

World Cuisine 101. Travel the globe from the comfort of
your own kitchen.

The urge lasted until Riley remembered why she didn’t cook.
She didn’t want to. To be good at something, and Riley would insist on being
great, she had to want to do it. Preparing an amazing meal was something to be
admired, but she didn’t aspire to that talent.

Seattle was home to some amazing restaurants. Riley grabbed
her phone. It would be a shame not to take advantage of them.

Before she could decide what she was in the mood for, her
phone rang. It was Claire.

“I’m on my way. I know it looks bad, but try not to
overreact.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, crap. Never mind. I’m just entering your building. I’ll
tell you when I see you.”

“Claire—”

“Never mind announcing me,” Claire said. “She’s right here.
Riley, tell him I can come up.”

Riley pictured Claire holding out her phone. “It’s all
right, Stuart.”

“Okay, Ms. Preston.”

“Why don’t you meet me at the elevator?”

“What?” Riley couldn’t figure out what was going on. “Why?
Are you carrying something large and cumbersome? If so, Stuart would be happy
to help.”

“No. I just… You know what? Never mind. I’m already on your
floor.”

There was a knock. Knowing who was there didn’t stop Riley
from automatically checking the peephole.

“What is going on?” she asked as she let Claire in.

Claire dropped her purse on the sofa.

“There isn’t a pretty way of doing this. Here.”

Puzzled, Riley took Claire’s phone. What she saw cleared up
the mystery. And made her blood boil.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

It was a picture of her and Logan. Laughing. Riley had her
hand on his arms and she was leaning in. It could be construed as intimate. Or
a sane, rational person could see it for what it was. Two friends sharing a
moment. Period.

The blogger, or whatever the person who posted the picture
called himself, was not sane or rational. Under the photo, it read:
At it
again? Not happy with two Knights, Riley Preston wants the entire team. Whether
they are married or not.

“The entire team? Three men are the entire team?” Riley
couldn’t take it in. Then she realized the implications. “Claire. I’m sorry.
This is a slap at you, too.”

“Indirectly.” Claire waved off Riley’s concern. “Someone is
going after you. You’re being painted as an aggressive man vacuum.”

“That’s lovely.” Riley looked at the photo again. “I suppose
it could be worse.”

“It is.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?”

“If I could spare you, I would.” Claire’s eyes were filled
with sympathy. Scroll down.”

Resigned, and sporting a major knot in her stomach, Riley
moved her thumb over the screen. There were five more pictures. With five
different players. The content was similar to the others. Friendly smiles and
casual touches.

Three of the players pictured were married, the other two in
long-term, committed relationships.

Each caption was nastier than the last. Finally, under a
photo montage, were two words.
Team Bicycle
?

“As in everybody’s had a ride?”

The phone belonged to Claire. Otherwise, it would be across
the room, smashed against the wall. To be safe, Riley handed it back.

“I don’t give a flying leap what anyone thinks of me.” Riley
didn’t simply say it. She meant it. “The first picture was one thing. I’m
worried about the players’ wives. If things are uncomfortable at home, it could
translate to the locker room. Then to the field.”