Game For Love: Love Games (Kindle Worlds) (14 page)

Heaven.

He went downstairs after packing two bags. One for this week with Marlee, filled with jeans and shirts. The other for next week. A garment bag with a few suits. His agent said that they’d have what they wanted him to wear for the taping in New York already, so Declan only needed to bring some suits to wear to meetings with the networks. Years of traveling had taught Declan to pack light.

He checked in one last time with the repair guys in the kitchen, making sure they had everything they needed. He surveyed his damaged kitchen one more time and knew he needed to get out of there before he broke down and bawled like a baby over the disorder of his pride and joy.

Disappointing. That was the word Marlee had used when he told her about the fire damage. Even that set Marlee apart from the other women in his life. Bummer. Drag. Those are words they would have used. But “disappointing” seemed to fit the situation to a tee. It was disappointing. The kitchen he loved was not entirely destroyed, but would have to have major renovations done. Declan had taken the opportunity to make some changes in the kitchen. He’d designed it with the contractor six years ago when he’d had the house built, but years of usage had given him some suggestions on how to have it improved.
 

He hadn’t had much food in the fridge. The party had been catered and the leftovers were taken to a homeless shelter, per Declan’s request. He purposely didn’t want much food in the house because of him leaving for a week on Sunday. Declan didn’t get a chance to cook much during the season, anyway.
 

He cleaned out the refrigerator and freezer because the power would be off in the kitchen for the next several days when the crews began the repairs. He took the few things that would travel well and put them in a box to take to Marlee’s. The rest he put in a bag to take to the same shelter that he’d told the caterers about.
 

The NFL was very active with United Way, and Declan had been involved with them and several other charitable organizations his entire career. Before that, really. His parents had instilled in Declan a sense of community, a basic goodness toward his fellow man. Declan had always had the “there but for the grace of God go I” mentality, knowing full well he’d been blessed with a talent that few men possessed. He acknowledged it as well as stood in awe of it.
 

Declan could have easily had his cleaning lady take care of all this, but figured this would save her from having to come in at all. She came in twice a week and stocked the fridge, did the laundry and cleaning. Declan had called her and told her to come in only on Friday to see if the crews needed anything and to dispose of any of their trash. He then gave her next week off completely, asking her to come back the following Monday with groceries, as Declan was due to arrive back from New York that Monday night.

With the home front taken care of, Declan left with all he would need for the next two weeks.

After stopping by the shelter, taking the time to meet some of the people in attendance and signing a few autographs for them, he spent a couple of hours in the grocery store. He had found a gourmet store in Newton a few years ago. Not too far from where Marlee lived, he now realized. He traveled the aisles several times, feeling produce, sniffing fresh herbs, debating the choices. Marlee being a vegetarian like himself worked out great. Should he impress her with something sleek and ultra nouveau, or go with basic Midwest home-style cooking? He could do both well.
 

The thought of how badly he wanted to impress Marlee only slightly irritated him. He was starting to get used to the idea of needing Marlee to see he wasn’t just a womanizing, one-night-stand kind of guy. Surely she didn’t still think about him in those terms? Not after the day they had spent together yesterday. Or the night.

That, coupled with the fact that he’d accepted her invitation to stay with her this week, should at least let Marlee know she was more than a one-night stand to him. She was more than a week-long stand to him, but he didn’t think she’d want to hear that from him. Not yet, anyway. He had time to work on her.

He was still working on those thoughts himself.

He had a fleeting vision of her wooden frames and his silver ones intermingled on a larger mantel, with maybe some golden ones with their own kids photos interspersed between them.

Where had that thought come from? Still, the vision was crystal clear, and Declan hung on to it for a second or two before he let it drop, like his receivers sometimes did when Declan’s passes were too strong and fierce to hang on to.

He ended up buying the ingredients for both types of meals, thinking that now that he was staying with Marlee, he’d get the chance to show off all his skills. And not just his skills in the kitchen. He smiled to himself.
 

As he neared her home, Declan was once again struck with the feel of familiarity and comfort he found when driving through Marlee’s neighborhood. The trees were bare of leaves, of course, but Declan could picture the powerful oaks and elms that lined the streets at their brilliant fall hues of oranges and reds.
 

There were kids playing street hockey on her road, and they stopped, moving their nets out of the way as Declan’s vehicle came into view. Declan was surprised to feel a lump in his throat as he watched the kids. He and his siblings had played such games. He hoped his children someday would too. The vision of teaching a son to catch a football flashed before him, and he felt the image warm him, flow through his body like a shot of alcohol. He let his daydream continue and was not surprised to see Marlee coming out of a back door and call them in to dinner.
 

Simple stuff, but it felt right to Declan.

Marlee’s garage was open and her car was parked far to one side of the attached two-car garage. Leaving a space for him? She would have closed the door otherwise, right? In Boston winters, you definitely wanted to put your car in the garage overnight. It saved you lots of time in the morning. Declan had spent almost twenty minutes this morning scraping the ice and snow from his windshield, waiting for his car in Marlee’s driveway to warm up.

He parked his car in the garage and headed to the inside door that led to the kitchen. He took a couple of bags of groceries. He’d come back for the rest and his suitcases. He pressed the garage door button next to the door leading to the kitchen and watched as the door lowered, closing out the twilight and the blustery wind.

Marlee was standing at the island in the middle of the kitchen. She had what looked like a glass of water in her hand and she was leaning over, reading a newspaper that was spread out across the marble countertop. She was wearing a maroon Boston College sweatshirt and black yoga pants, her hair pulled into a ponytail, and Declan thought she looked about twenty years old. She glanced up at him as he entered and pushed her glasses up her nose. Declan had seen her do that a couple of times yesterday as she went through her speech and found the habit endearing—sexy, even.
 

She smiled. A warm, intimate smile, and in that moment Declan knew he’d made a good decision about staying with Marlee. It felt…right. Coming home to this woman with a car full of groceries on a cold winter’s night. Perfect.

He returned her smile and greeted her with, “Hi, honey. I’m home!”

A soft sort of giggle came out of Marlee. “It’s about time. I’m starving!”

Declan’s grin drew wider. He knew what would fill Marlee up.
 

And then afterward, he’d feed her.

Chapter Ten

M
arlee was not to be swayed. Not even for hot sex with Declan. She wanted to see his stuff, all right, but his cooking skills were the prowess she wanted demonstrated first. Hearing the garage door go down behind him, seeing him walk into her kitchen laden with groceries, even now as he put them away, getting the lay of the land of her cupboards, it all felt so natural, like something they’d done for years.

Marlee scolded herself. It wasn’t about Declan. It just demonstrated to her how ready she was to be a unit, to share her life and her home—and yes, even her kitchen—with a man. Now that she was certain this was the future she wanted, she could start the search for a viable candidate. And the short list didn’t include Declan Tate.

From somewhere deep inside of her—and Marlee was pretty sure that spot was at the place between her thighs—a voice screamed,
Why not Declan?
It was not the first time the analytical side of her debated the emotional side, but it was the closest match they’d had in years.
 

Marlee would let the emotional side rarely win, and the events usually included standing in front of rack of designer suits that weren’t on sale. She wasn’t about to be waylaid by her attraction to Declan—and that was all it was, she kept reminding herself—on an issue so important.

Doing just that had almost destroyed her two years ago.

She’d met Justin Jones in an aisle at the gourmet grocery store in Newton. He’d asked her what was the difference between arugula and kale, and his gorgeous blue eyes had her saying yes to his offer of coffee.

It had been a whirlwind romance, and before she knew it, she was deeply in love with Justin. At first, the thought that he was the star shortstop for the Boston Red Sox was kind of cool. She’d never followed sports so hadn’t known who he was until their third date, but it was summertime and she’d gone to the games, sitting with the players’s wives and girlfriends (WAGs, she later found out). She’d been amused at the attention she’d garnered as Justin’s girlfriend.

He was on the road a lot, sometimes for ten days or longer, but when the Sox were in town, they spent as much time as possible together. Within four months, Marlee was nearly living at Justin’s amazing Boston penthouse apartment and they were talking—albeit abstractedly—about a permanent future together.

His place was beautiful, with a breathtaking view, but it was decorated in a very modern—almost cold—way, and Marlee never felt quite at home. Though she loved being there with Justin.

He told her how much he loved her, and Marlee had felt the same way. Their lovemaking had been both lusty and sweet, and Marlee savored lying in Justin’s arms throughout the night.

Until someone with an anonymous Gmail account had sent her a link to a sports gossip site that featured the Top Ten Players of Baseball. And it had nothing to do with their prowess on the field.
 

Justin was number three.

At first, Marlee assumed that the list was from the pre-Marlee Justin’s antics. But there were pictures on the site of Justin with women where he was wearing a shirt Marlee had bought him.

She’d confronted him, of course. And he didn’t deny any of it. In fact, he seemed somewhat shocked that Marlee didn’t know “the score,” as he called it. “That’s my world, babe. It’s just understood that…things happen…when I’m on the road. But I come home to you, Marlee. And when I’m in Boston, you’re the only…” He’d stopped then at the horrified look on her face. She’d turned from him and went to the bedroom to pack her things, leaving his apartment, and Justin, that night.

She’d been devastated. And what was worse than having her heart broken was her stupid pride. Not only had he cheated on her, he hadn’t even tried very hard to cover it up. And certainly didn’t deny it when she’d confronted him.

Her family and friends had rallied behind her. She’d even flown to San Fransisco for a long weekend with Anna to try and ease the pain and humiliation. They’d gone shopping, and drinking, and had a great time. One of Anna’s sisters was getting married soon and they’d gone shopping for shoes for Anna to wear with her bridesmaid dress. Over margaritas they’d both gotten a little weepy over their lack of someone special. Then they’d made a makeshift voodoo doll of Justin Jones and rubbed it in the salt on the rim of their drinks.

It was just what she needed, but then Marlee came home just in time to see Justin’s face plastered all over the Boston papers during the World Series, and she felt the wounds opening all over again.

It had taken time, as all broken hearts did. And Marlee was
just
to the point where she was willing to brave the dating world to find the man she could settle down with and start the family she badly wanted.

But she wasn’t stupid enough to think that it would ever be another pro athlete who traveled all the time.

“Marlee? Marlee? Where did you go?”

Declan turned from putting away the groceries to see Marlee, water glass frozen halfway to her mouth, deep in thought.

“Nowhere, Declan. We’re going nowhere,” she said. Her shoulders drooped every so slightly and her head bowed. He knew those body movements, had copied them his fair share over his career.
 

It was the motion of defeat.

Dinner was good, one of his best. Marlee said she wasn’t sure she could do better herself. Declan laughed. He liked that she didn’t fawn over him, but geez, she could do a little better than that after the awesome meal he’d just fed her. “That’s the most back-handed compliment I’ve ever received, and believe me, I’ve gotten a lot of those.”

“Actually, if you knew how well I cooked, it wouldn’t seem back-handed at all.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Professor Reeves. All right, it’s your turn tomorrow night.”