Fourth and Goal (16 page)

She walked the short distance to her little house, kneeing Simon as he attempted to shove past her.

Okay, regret time, right? Now was when the good girl part of her chastised the bad girl from last night. Pursing her lips, Rachel pushed that good girl down and shoved a gag in her mouth. She wasn't going there. No regrets; they weren't allowed. The new Rachel didn't feel guilt over sleeping with a man for the pure pleasure of it. And it had been pleasure—sexy, fun, carnal pleasure. The new Rachel would satisfy her needs with Derek. Eventually, once she got everything she wanted, she'd move on to another man without blinking an eye. Later.

Then, much later, she'd find another willing partner and test her newfound freedom and promiscuity. Of course, she'd practice safe sex even though she was on the pill to regulate her periods. She'd make sure any and all future partners used protection.

Derek had been different. She'd trusted him to be clean. Maybe she shouldn't, but she did.

Not that she'd be a slut; she just wouldn't be a twenty-seven-year-old woman who'd only slept with one guy. She'd experience other men and hopefully wipe Derek's stamp off her heart. Of course, last night didn't exactly aid in that crusade. No matter, she'd do it. And sleeping with him built her confidence, not just in her sexual abilities, but in her ability to get to the truth. When the time came, he'd confess his sins. He'd do the right thing.

For now she'd better hop in the shower and get ready for the game before her brother showed up and figured out how she'd spent her night. Surely the afterglow of great sex reflected in her eyes and advertised itself in the way she carried herself.

Well, big brother could speculate all he wanted. She didn't screw and tell.

Derek did a double take when he walked into the locker room. Frowning, he approached Dante, who was still dressed in his street clothes, crutches propped next to the bench beside him.

"What the fuck happened to you?” Derek shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over a hook in his locker.

"I reinjured my knee in Friday practice."

"I thought that was nothing.” Derek peeled his T-shirt off and stepped out of his jeans.

"It turns out it was something. I might be out for the season."

"Oh man.” He shrugged into his shoulder pads.

"Don't sweat it, kid. It might be your big break. HughJack won't take a chance on you if I'm healthy."

"I don't want a big break at someone else's expense, especially yours. I want to earn it myself."

"You have earned it, Ramsey. You've worked your ass off these past few weeks.” Dante paused as HughJack approached. He nodded to the injured player, then turned to Derek.

"You're starting this afternoon, got it?"

Derek stared at his coach in disbelief. “Uh, yes, sir. I got it."

Dante grinned as HughJack moved away. “You'll do fine. Good luck, man."

Derek tried not to think as he went through the motions putting on the rest of his pads, uniform, and cleats. He listened to all the pregame stuff but didn't hear a thing. Butterflies flitted around in his stomach, but he forced an indifferent expression on his face.
Never show weakness, especially not with this pack of coyotes
. Already the offensive linemen were eyeing him, assessing whether he'd be up to the task of being a starting wide receiver.

Grabbing his helmet, he sprinted onto the field with the rest of his teammates to a smattering of applause. Losing season after losing season combined with a zero and four start didn't breed large, enthusiastic crowds.

The LA Sharks boasted a three-win, one-loss season. The oddsmakers picked them as a two-touchdown favorite against the Jacks; not exactly a vote of confidence. Derek didn't care. Today, things changed.

His gaze sought out Rachel in the stands next to her asshole brother. Derek waved; she waved back. Smiling like a fool, he turned back to his job, all business. Things were improving. Mitch didn't even flip him off this time.

She looked good—not as hot as last night, but more like his Rachel, even though she was wearing more makeup and a cute little top. Seeing her brought back all those good feelings. A calm strength renewed him. He could do this. It was his time. Their time. The entire team's time.

The Sharks kicked off to the Jacks, who took a fair catch.

Relaxed and loose, Derek jogged to the huddle. He felt great. Beyond great. Rejuvenated. Free. Confident. Like a new man.

Things just got better.

For the next sixty minutes, he was all over the field, catching everything tossed his way, throwing blocks, and even tackling a safety who intercepted one of Tyler's passes. By halftime he'd caught two touchdown passes for seventy-five yards. By the end of the game, he had another touchdown and several more receptions. So many, in fact, he came within a few yards of breaking the team record for most receptions in a game. Everything fell into place like pieces of an almost finished puzzle.

HughJack didn't slam down his clipboard once. Razor just smiled and nodded. No words needed. They won easily against a very good defensive team and improved their record to one and four.

Perhaps there was something to having sex the night before a game. It'd never worked for him before, but then he'd never had sex with Rachel during his pro career.

Razor slapped him on the back in the locker room. “Keep that up, man, and they'll be forgetting my name."

Derek laughed. “I have you to thank for all this.” Him and Rachel.

"No, man, I didn't do a damn thing. It's your hands and your talent."

"You've spent a lot of time with me."

"Purely selfish. I want a Super Bowl ring as a coach."

Derek shrugged. If Razor wanted to play it cool, it was fine with him.

"You took my advice, didn't you?"

"I took a lot of your advice on running routes, catching the ball, tucking it away—"

"I'm talking about getting laid. You got laid last night. I knew it the minute you walked into the locker room this morning."

"That obvious?"

"To me. Whoever she is, keep her around for the season."

"I just might do that.” Like it would be possible to let her go after last night. It had nothing to do with winning a football game—that was just the cherry on the whipped cream.

The coach gathered the team together for a quick postgame talk. Electricity ran through the room. They all felt it. They'd turned a corner, entered new territory.

HughJack waited for their undivided attention. “Gentlemen, today was our first win, but I think every man in here knows it was more than that. More than beating a team we shouldn't have beaten. They played an almost flawless game, but we won. Today you found a way to win instead of a way to lose. That's what good teams do.” He looked at each one of them as he tossed a football back and forth from one hand to the other. “Great teams know they're going to win. We're a long ways from being a great team, but today we became a good team."

Derek stood against one of the lockers, keyed up and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He could go another four quarters.

"Ramsey!"

Derek jumped. “Yes, sir.” He winced and waited for a butt chewing because he'd been fidgeting.

HughJack tossed him the football. Derek almost dropped it, bringing snickers and catcalls from the guys.

"The game ball is yours. Keep playing like that, and you'll have a collection of them by the end of the season."

The team cheered, and Derek nodded, trying to keep it cool and not show too much emotion.

The game ball
. His first as a pro.

Cass stuffed a carrot in her mouth and munched. Leaning over the table, she spoke so only Rachel could hear. “So how'd it go last night? Was it as good for you as it appeared to be for Derek? He was on fire on the field today."

Rachel shot a quick glance toward the front of McGuire's Bar, where the local radio station did their postgame show after every home game. On the small raised stage, a sportscaster interviewed Derek and Tyler.

"It was fine."

Cass rolled her eyes. “Fine? That's all you can say. Did it rock your world? Or even more, did you rock his?"

"I don't do sex and tell."

"Oh, that'd be a great name for a new reality show.” Cass laughed. “I know this sounds dumb, but you're absolutely radiant."

"Shhhh. I hope my brother didn't notice anything. He kept staring at me strangely through the entire game."

"Your brother needs to get a life. Going to every game with his sister. Just too weird. We need to find him a woman so he'll quit trying to control you."

"I doubt that would stop him. It hasn't stopped Dad or Riley."

"So what's the deal with you and Derek? Other than the sex."

"There is no deal, just sex and friendship.” Cass couldn't know. After all, implicating Derek implicated Tyler. Rachel hated deceiving her friend, but she didn't have an option.

"That's it? Why?"

"Our goals are compatible."

"Huh?"

"Don't play the dumb blonde act on me. You know what I'm talking about. Both of us want something so badly that no one will stand in our way. We won't give up our dreams. He wants to play pro football. I want to be a scout. Who knows where I'll end up? The chances of getting a job in Seattle are slim.” Chances of him not hating her after this was all over were even slimmer.

"But you're willing to sleep with him?"

"This from a woman who jumps in bed with the next available man every time you break up with Tyler?"

"We're not discussing me. We're discussing you."

"Cass, the man doesn't want a relationship any more than I do. He's made it clear."

"Well, that was then. This is now."

"You don't know the whole story.” And she never would know the entire story. No one would.

"What story?"

"About his mother. She did a real number on him. I can't imagine him ever trusting another woman."

Cass blew her off. “That's bull. He's not like that."

Rachel shrugged. No arguing with Cass. She'd think as she pleased. After all, this was the woman who'd stuck with Tyler since her freshman year of college, which proved she wasn't the best judge of character. Of course, they did break up every other week. Actually they'd been together a couple of months now without a major fight. They were due.

Maybe next time Tyler dumped Cass or she dumped Tyler, she'd set Cass up with her brother.

Derek and Tyler, interview finished, joined them at their booth. Derek grinned at Rachel. “Hey, I'm glad you were able to join us."

"I wouldn't miss this victory party for the world."

He squeezed her hand under the table. “Thanks."

He looked so darn good. His short, spiky dark hair was still wet from the shower. He smelled like soap, clean and wholesome. His brown eyes sparkled with the excitement of a game well played. Even her brother grudgingly admitted that he'd played “one hell of a game."

The place was packed. The Sunday night game blared on every TV in the sports bar. Voices rose to be heard above the din, while scantily clad waitresses hustled to the full tables with trays of beer and appetizers.

Derek ordered another round, even though Rachel hadn't finished her wine yet. He reached over her to snag some fries and a chicken wing. His muscled arm rubbed across her nipples, which tightened in response. Derek turned his head, his mouth mere inches from hers, and met her gaze. Heat radiated from his eyes and singed her with their intensity.

Burying his long fingers in the hair at the back of her neck, he pulled her toward him. “How about a victory kiss?"

She nodded, even as his mouth came down on hers. It was no chaste little kiss. He thoroughly kissed her with the same enthusiasm he played the game he loved. His tongue teased hers, and she gave herself up to the moment until a flash blinded her. Pulling back, she glanced around, dazed and stunned.

Derek turned toward the photographer, annoyance etched on his face. “Hey, man, give us a little privacy here."

The man just snorted. “Why don't you get a room instead of putting on a public performance? Then you can have privacy."

Derek glared at him, and the guy backed off.

Tyler watched him go. “Want me to kill him for you?"

"Nah, Coach wouldn't be happy if his star quarterback got thrown in jail for murder."

"No one will know I did it. I'm that good.” Tyler smirked.

"You're that full of shit."

"Your lack of faith in my talents wounds me to the core.” Tyler held his hand over his heart. Derek groaned.

"Acting is not your forte."

"Nope, but I am photogenic, gorgeous, and charming. As soon as we have a few more wins under our belt, I'm getting some big promo contracts. This face will be on every billboard from here to California."

"Whatever.” Derek rolled his eyes.

Rachel loved the bantering between these two. Tyler might be an ass on the outside, but his fierce loyalty to his cousin might prove troublesome down the road.

Her fledgling sexual exploration didn't include public displays of affection that might get back to her family, especially with Derek Ramsey.

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By the time they managed to escape McGuire's, the rain was heavy enough to drown every living thing and do a number on Rachel's hair. Derek's earlier euphoria seemed to give way to exhaustion. He stifled several yawns as he graciously thanked fans for their support and signed several autographs. It was over a half hour later before they pulled into her driveway.

They walked up to her porch. Putting his big hands on her shoulders, he smiled down at her. His actions made it clear he didn't intend to stay the night.

Rachel swallowed her disappointment. It was better this way. Two nights in a row could turn into three, then four. Too many nights with an emotionally unavailable man meant nothing but heartbreak. Been there, not stupid enough to do it again.

"Thanks, Rae, for everything."

"Me—what did I do?"

"You burned off my tension. Allowed me to relax.” One corner of his mouth quirked. “I had one hell of a good time, last night in bed and tonight in good company and conversation."