Authors: Mary J. Williams
"I'm certain you're mistaken." Langley had a fine poker face. It didn't matter. This time, Dalton had a straight flush, ace high.
"It's all there. Recorded for posterity."
To his credit, Judge Langley understood when he was beaten. Head held high, he met Dalton's gaze head on.
"What do you want?"
"Simple. Collier's political aspirations are over. If I get a hint that he's considering running for elected office, I won't hesitate to release his latest folly to the public."
"What about your sister?"
Without the slightest hesitation, Dalton simply said, "What about her?"
No one spoke as they left the house. They loaded into the SUV. Before they were out of the driveway, Zoe closed her eyes, snuggling down with her head resting on Ashe's shoulder.
"Forget driving back to Los Angeles. I'll hire somebody to do it for me."
"Sounds good to me." Quinn yawned.
"If I never see Midas again, it will be too soon," Ryder declared. Making certain Quinn was buckled in, he put on his seatbelt.
Ashe let out a long, loud sigh. "Amen, brother. By now, those words should be indelibly branded into our brains."
"How about you?" Dalton asked Colleen.
"I'm through with Midas. I'm with Ryder. Never again."
Words that were the cherry on top of an unbelievably satisfying evening. Colleen hadn't exactly made a declaration of her undying love. If she planned on living in Los Angeles, Dalton saw his chances as mighty fine.
Just to be certain, Dalton decided to play devil's advocate. "You have an apartment full of stuff. And what about your mother?"
"For a few beers, Rick can get his buddies to clean out my apartment. As for Mom?" A smile flitted across her lips. "She will love Los Angeles. I won't have a problem getting her to visit."
That settled, Dalton headed out of town. Nobody looked back when they passed the sign that read Leaving Midas.
"I live in Los Angeles."
"I'm aware."
"Colleen—"
"I think we should date."
Suddenly, you could hear a pin drop. It wasn't the audience riding in the back that made Dalton choose his words carefully. This was his future hanging in the balance. His happiness. The last thing he wanted was to say the wrong thing when the woman he wanted was so close to being his.
"Date? As in dinner and a movie? Walks along the beach? A weekend in the country?"
"Sounds perfect."
"Are you thinking about getting an apartment?"
"Zoe offered to let me stay with her. At first."
"Did she?" Looking in the rearview mirror, Dalton swore he saw Zoe's lips twitch. Since Zoe's house was less than a ten-minute drive from his, he decided he could live with that. For now.
"I need to find a job."
"You should be restoring cars. I can lend you start-up money."
"You could," Colleen nodded. "How long until I have to pay you back?"
"Take all the time you need. Five, ten years?" Dalton liked the sound of that. A long, drawn-out contract.
"You realize that if I take your money, we can't have sex until I pay back the loan."
Ashe found Colleen's declaration hilarious, making no attempt to temper his laughter.
"How about a bank loan? I could co-sign."
"Same principle," Colleen told him firmly. "You can help me, but I become a no-sex zone. At least where you're concerned."
"Who else do you plan on having sex with?" Dalton had no idea how he had dug this hole, but it seemed to be getting deeper.
"My plans only involve you."
"I like the sound of that."
"As long as you drop all talk of money." Colleen smiled when Dalton silently crossed his heart. "There are several businesses in Los Angeles that specialize in classic car restoration. I know the owner of one. He was a big help when I hit a snag in the middle of fixing up the Thunderbird."
"You've met?"
"E-mail buddies. However, he told me if I ever moved to Los Angeles, there was a job waiting."
"You didn't tell me that."
"I'm telling you now." Colleen's hand came to rest on his thigh. "In a few months, who knows how you'll feel. How I'll feel. We have time to find out."
Dalton drove into the night. Turning on the radio, he chuckled when the band's latest hit song poured through the speakers.
Time Is On Our Side
. Hearing Colleen's answering laugh, he placed his hand over hers, relaxing. The lights of Phoenix burned brightly in the distance. No more looking back.
They
did
have time. All the time in the world.
SIX MONTHS LATER
"DON’T TOUCH ME!"
"Those are the words every man longs to hear from the woman he loves."
"This woman is a dirty, sweaty mess. But she loves you, too."
"
That
, I definitely want to hear."
Dalton gladly accepted Colleen's quick kiss, understanding why she leaned in, keeping her body as far from his as possible.
"If I don't hop in the shower, we'll be late meeting everyone for dinner."
Colleen rushed up the stairs, pulling her shirt over her head as she went. Enjoying the view, Dalton trailed behind. He liked this arrangement much better than the one they had the first few months after Colleen moved to Los Angeles. She and Zoe turned out to be surprisingly compatible roommates. For a while, Dalton worried about prying her loose. He wanted her with him. Not living the single life with her new BFF.
Dalton had nothing to worry about. Between her new job at World Restorations, and acclimating to city life, Colleen had little time for anything else. She settled in nicely. He soon realized his worries were without foundation. Work during the day. Dalton at night. Before long, Colleen spent more time in his bed than the one in Zoe's guest room.
It was during one of those sleepovers after he had shown her with his body how much he loved her, that she said the words.
I love you
. Dalton hadn't hesitated to tell her what he had known almost from the beginning.
I love you,
Colleen
.
Colleen had said it hundreds of times since that first time. However, it hadn't lost its impact. Dalton was certain it never would. Tonight, in front of their friends, he planned on asking her to spend the rest of her life with him. It was a big step. Before Colleen, he would have sworn it was a step he would never take. Crazy as it sounded, the cliché was true. All it took was the right woman.
Dalton quickly removed his clothing. Sharing a shower with Colleen was one of life's great pleasures. He would be a fool to pass up the opportunity.
"You know where this will lead."
"I can only hope."
Turning, Colleen wrapped her arms around his waist. The water had turned her hair a deep auburn. In Dalton's mind, red was red. Beautiful no matter the shade. He squirted a dollop of her favorite shampoo into his palm, running his fingers through the thick locks until her head was covered in citrus-scented lather.
"Mm." Closing her eyes, Colleen's turned her face upward, her lips curving into a smile. "You are so good at that."
"Aren't you glad you agreed to move in?"
"You do come in handy." Colleen wrapped her fingers around his erection. "For so many things."
"We'll be late," Dalton warned, not giving a damn.
"You can blame me."
Dalton covered Colleen's mouth with his. Had he been happy before her? Yes. A different kind of happiness. This was richer. Deeper. The kind that could only grow brighter with each passing year.
"I love you, Colleen." When she didn't answer, Dalton dipped his head, looking into eyes that sparkled like brilliant emeralds. "Tears?"
"I can't help it," Colleen brushed her lips against his. "Those words get me every time. I love you."
Dalton didn't cry. He was too happy. But he understood. Those words.
I
love you
. When Colleen said them, they got to him. Every time.
Flowers Are Red
Hart of Rock and Roll Book Three
AFTER THE RAIN
(One Pass Away Book One)
PROLOGUE
LOGAN. LOGAN. LOGAN.
Logan Price closed his eyes, taking it all in.
"Hear that, kid?" Starting quarterback Gaige Benson slapped him on the back. "Two games under your belt and you're a star. Now let's go out there and add super to the front of it."
The announcer for the team set them in motion down the tunnel with his familiar introduction.
"And now, let's hear it for your division champion
SEATTLE KNIGHTS
."
The roar of the crowd. There was nothing like it. A packed stadium. Fans chanting his name. Few people would ever experience what it was like to take the field in a professional football game.
Logan Price had been working for this his entire life. He could still remember in exact detail the first game he ever saw. Too small to climb onto the stool in his father's bar by himself, his old man had lifted him onto the seat.
Stay and be quiet
.
Not an easy order to follow for an active, inquisitive little boy. One look at the game and for once, Logan had no problem following his father's command. The old TV transported him to a foreign world filled with bright lights and shiny helmeted warriors. Logan didn't know what he was watching. He did know he wanted to be one of those men.
A Sunday afternoon in rural Oklahoma.
Lefty's Pub
was filled with after-church drinkers who figured they had done their duty to God and family. The rest of the day was their time. A beer. Or two. Or six. Cronies who understood a man's need to unwind before the start of another workweek.
And football.
If the Friday night high school game was their true religion, the Sunday afternoon games were a close second. As Oklahoma boys, they hated anything Texas. The men of Denville gathered every week to root for whichever team was playing the Dallas Cowboys.
No matter how the games ended. Whether the crowd was happy or disgruntled. It meant more drinking. Hours later, husbands, boyfriends, and sons would stumble out, pile into beat-up trucks, and weave their way home to frustrated wives, girlfriends, and mothers.
As he grew older, Logan's view changed. He moved from the stool to behind the bar. And he promised himself one thing. He would never become one of those men. He wouldn't spend the week at a job he hated. His home wouldn't be a semi-wide trailer filled with hand-me-down furniture and a wife to whom he couldn't face going home.
His Sundays were going to be spent playing football, not watching it.
"Ready to take down this vaunted Arizona defense?" Gaige yelled at him, butting helmets.
Vaunted
. Good word, Logan thought. His QB liked to use what his granny called highfalutin talk. Must have been that Ivy League education. He knew that Gaige Benson didn't grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth. He came from the mean streets of Brooklyn. He had the scars to prove it.
Like Logan, Gaige had vowed to get out of the life into which he was born. In the process, he polished himself up like a new penny. He took advantage of his full-ride scholarship to Yale. He didn't spend all his time on the football field. Fancy vocabulary. Fancy clothes. Fancy women. They were all part of the package Gaige purposefully fashioned for himself.
Seventeen years after clawing his way out of the tenement that he grew up in, very little of that borough-rat remained. Until game time. No one was tougher than Gaige Benson. Three-time league MVP. Considered one of the best ever to play the game. No one stood in his way when he was playing the game. He had the scars to prove it.
"Gather round."
Knights head coach Harry Coleman gathered the team close. He had to yell over the crowd, but he had the voice to do it. Booming was putting it mildly. The first time Logan heard it, he stood right beside the man. The ringing in his ears didn't go away for three days.
"Divisional game. If I have to say any more than that, you shouldn't be out here. Go kick some ass."
The defense took the field to start the game. Arizona had a rookie quarterback drafted in the second round from a small college in the Midwest. The only reason he was out there was because the regular starter suffered a concussion in last week's game and the regular backup had food poisoning. Thrown into action at the last minute, Logan swore he could see the guy’s hands shaking before he took the first snap. When the ball went sailing between his legs, Logan shook his head.
The moment was too big for some people. For Logan, it wasn't big enough. He aimed for the biggest stage of all. The Super Bowl. It wasn't a matter of
if
he would get there, but when.
"Three and out." Gaige grinned, pulling on his helmet. "Come on, kid. Let's go show them how it's done."
Logan ran onto the field.
Kid
. He shook his head, grinning. From the first day of training camp, Gaige had hung that moniker on him. Ironic since he was almost twenty-five, a good two years older than most of the other rookies. However, he supposed when someone had been in the league as long as Gaige, all the new guys seemed like kids.
"We're starting on the ground," Gaige instructed them in the huddle. "Sweep out left. Basic. Got it?"
Lining up as he had a thousand other times, Logan checked the defense. He knew he was fast. One of the fastest in the game. What set him apart was his anticipation. He had the uncanny ability to read the guy covering him. He knew when to fake left or when to fake right. Stutter step or flat out, in your face, catch me if you can.
His speed got him out of Denville, Oklahoma. His brains and determination got him to the NFL.