Read Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) Online

Authors: Kate Donovan

Tags: #football, #sports, #Romance, #Bad boys of football, #sexy romance, #teacher, #contemporary romance

Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) (25 page)

BOOK: Play Date (Play Makers Book 3)
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She had expected the chainsaw, so she called out, “Vince!” When he ignored her, she jumped up and walked over to him. “When the neighbor had a tree like this taken out—by professionals—they cut it close to the ground, then used some kind of machine to grind up the stump.”

“Deck would know,” he mused. “He was raised on a ranch, so he’s all over this stuff.”

“Do you want me to call him?”

“Huh?” He gave her a surprised look, then chuckled. “I think I can handle it.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. And it wasn’t like they could invite Sean to help. Too bad, because he had an impressive set of muscles himself. Not as huge as Bannerman’s, but still, the two Lancers could take out this tree without breaking a sweat. Jason Spurling could be useful too. In fact, any NFL hunk would do, but calling them would set off a chain reaction, especially with Beth.

Better to let the halfback have his macho space, so she retreated to her blanket and sat cross-legged in silence. He continued digging a series of small holes that eventually became a trench, and she wondered for the first time if he had ever seen a depiction of a tree and its roots. Rachel had taught this lesson year after year and had a great graphic at school, showing that the spread underground was just as wide as the limbs and branches. And as high as the branches went? The roots went equally deep into the earth.

Would he be insulted if she showed him similar evidence on her laptop?

Almost certainly. So she kept quiet.

He worked in cheerful silence, and when he took his shirt off, she decided it was worth it even if the tree stayed in place forever. Every muscle glistened as it tensed and flexed, his body moving with that easy grace she had noticed so often.

The best athlete on the Lancers squad. If only they could play with their shirts off, revenues would
really
soar.

When he finally dropped his shovel to the ground, she hoped he was taking a break. Or better still, having second thoughts. Then he grabbed the tree with both gloved hands like he was strangling it. Then he began testing it, trying to budge it from its roots.

Is he crazy?

“Hey, Vince?”

“Yeah?”

“You can’t just yank it out. The roots spread as wide as the canopy.”

“The
dead
roots?” He reached up and snapped a thin branch off a limb above his head in illustration. Then he grinned at her like
she
was the one who didn’t understand the science of this project.

She brought him some lemonade. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

He accepted the drink and took a long swig. Then he said, “Thanks, teach. You should probably stand back now.”

“Use the chain saw.”

He shook his head. “I need the whole thing. For leverage.”

“You can’t just pull it out,” she said again, this time under her breath. But he had throttled the trunk again, trying to rock it. Then he gave her a warning glance. “Sit on the porch.”

She didn’t want to abandon him, even though it was frustrating to watch this up close, so she just backed away a few feet, and he started up again. To her surprise, it seemed like the tree budged a fraction of an inch.

Wishful thinking . . .

He must have heard her doubt, because he reminded her with a wink, “It’s dead.” Then he braced his powerful legs and rocked his opponent again, this time more forcefully.

And this time, it
definitely
moved.

There wasn’t any doubt now. He was going to pull the tree out by its effing roots. Why had she doubted him? He was Thor, wasn’t he? Or at least a gladiator.

Or a halfback, whatever
that
was.

Her shy neighbor—the one who had paid so much money to have his own tree removed—had ventured to the edge of the property and was gaping. She suspected he had been watching from inside his house from the start, and couldn’t blame him for being gob-smacked.

He probably knows Vince spends the night, too,
she reminded herself, but she didn’t care. Why shouldn’t her neighbors know she had a sex life?

Every time the tree rocked, the ground seemed to move and, for the first time, she worried there wasn’t enough room for it to land. It wasn’t a particularly giant tree, but it was massive in breadth thanks to wide, thick branches that tapered into mazes of slender twigs.

Dead branches, dead twigs. But still, they had to go somewhere.

Was that the real reason the neighbor had come outside? To ensure it didn’t land on
his
property?

Bannerman was rocking it back and forth, harder and faster. Then he called out, “Hey, teach. Get up on the porch.”

She dashed to the stoop, then begged him to be careful. Not to get hurt.

“It’s me or this tree,” he joked. Then his huge body went into motion, every muscle working as he rocked, then rolled, then wrestled his prey from the earth, toppling it neatly across the kidney-shaped patch of lawn.

“Woo-hoo!!” She ran to him, wrapping her arms around him from the back, smothering his sweaty neck with kisses.

“The neighbor’s watching,” he warned. “Have some pride.”

“Do you have any idea how sexy that was? I’m drenched, Sheriff Bannerman.”

He kissed her proudly, then pulled back. “Your timing stinks.”

“What?”

“I’ve got work to do. And you’re making it harder. Pun intended.”

“Oh.” She looked at the uprooted tree. “I guess we can’t just leave it there.”

His smile warmed. “You’re fun, Rachel. You know that? So order us a combination pizza. I’ll finish this as quick as I can.”

Chapter 10

 

She ordered two pizzas—a large combination for him, a personal-sized cheese and tomato for herself. Then she prepared a huge bowl of salad, her attention always on the view through the back window. He was literally cutting the tree down to size, sometimes with the noisy chainsaw, but more often with an axe, showing off his muscles in ways that made her tingle.

When he occasionally rested, he chatted with the neighbor, who had dragged a lawn chair over and accepted a beer. She couldn’t even imagine what they were saying. If it was about her, she’d be dismayed, but it would still be worth it.

And more likely, it was guy talk. What size axe was he using? What trajectory did the tree take? What should they uproot next?

She was dying to join them, but resisted because she wouldn’t know what to say. She could gush about his brawny strength, but he already knew how she felt about that. Plus, he had a job that required him to uproot giants on a weekly basis, so this probably didn’t register with him the way it did for her and her neighbor.

By the time the pizzas arrived, he had some decent firewood stacked up near the back of the house, ready to season for a year or so. She put the pies in the oven to keep them from cooling off, then put on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and went out to help load branches and twigs into the back of his rented pickup. Harold, the neighbor, had offered the use of his own truck as well, explaining he had a friend with a wood chipper who would gladly take the debris off their hands.

Bannerman worked doggedly until it was too dark to accomplish anything without stadium-sized lights. Then he raked the remaining bits into a pile before agreeing to go inside to eat.

Even with garden gloves Rachel had been scratched up and could just imagine how
he
felt. All she could think about was that big bathtub at the Ashton Hotel where they could soak and lather and fondle to their hearts content. It was all she would ever ask from life, she decided in weary bliss.

Instead, they showered together and she made a fuss over his bruised rib cage and thighs.

“You should see me after a game,” he assured her. “This is nothing.”

Still, he seemed to like it when she soaped him up, and when she stroked his massive, unaffected-by-tree erection, he leaned back against the tile wall and groaned in encouragement, as if he didn’t have the strength to actually
do
anything but was still as horny as ever. He even gave her some playful instruction when she pleasured him orally, encouraging her to use her stripper-level breasts as well, and if his deepening moans were any indication, she was getting the hang of it fairly well.

When he was satisfied, he moved to the bed, sprawling across it face down, naked and obviously down for the count. Rachel broke two of her many rules, bringing the pizza into the bedroom with a pile of paper plates and napkins, then moving her thirty-two-inch TV from the living room to the dresser so they could camp out for the rest of the night.

While he listened to the basketball game, she mixed two oils—coconut and peppermint—with some aloe from her garden and massaged his back and shoulders. At one point, she almost thought he fell asleep, but true to his code, he pulled her down under himself and nuzzled her playfully. There was no point in arguing so she convinced him to roll onto his back, then straddled him and eased onto him, inch by thrilling inch. His eyes blazed, while his hands, hot on her hips, encouraged her to ride him until she came. Then he groaned and climaxed, his eyes shut, his huge muscles finally relaxing completely into slumber.

And she slept too, conforming her body to his, not wanting to disturb him but needing to feel him. To know he was there. It was all she wanted, wasn’t it? These moments, days, weeks with him?

And the memories. She would cling to those forever, no matter how nice and gallant her eventual husband was.

 

• • •

 

She expected to sleep late the next morning and then, depending on his soreness and stiffness, either make love again or have coffee on the stoop as they admired the spot where the dead tree had once stood.

But he wasn’t in bed when she awoke. So she ran to the window and groaned. He was back at it. Clearing the yard. No chainsaw yet since it was too early. But still, he had defeated that tree, and now he would claim it.

She managed to coax him back into the house with a promise of breakfast, then confessed what she really wanted. From that moment they were insatiable for each other, primitive and earthy. Probably because he had wrenched nature itself by its roots and laid it at her feet.

She would never forget it. Never forget
him.
And she knew now that he wouldn’t forget her either, or at least not completely. It didn’t matter how many females he had seduced over the years and would seduce in the future. She had given him something. The fun with the kids, the sentimental impact of the show-and-tell video, the excitement of yanking a tree out by its roots.

And bareback sex.

Toward the end of the day, they followed Harold to his friend’s orchard and dumped off two loads of branches for the wood chipper. The sun was low in the sky by the time they returned to Rachel’s house, and she wondered if he was going to sleep over again.

Two nights in a row. Another first for them. And while it was simply logistical, since it was late and he was tired, it felt like it could mean more.

Or not.

Bannerman must have been as conflicted as she was, because when he opened her door for her and handed her out in her driveway, he murmured, “Maybe I’ll head back. You’ve got errands to run tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, and trust me, you don’t want to come with. The bank, the grocery store, the post office—it’s drudgery.”

He eyed her intently. “So? Did the dad hit on you?”

She nodded. “You were right, but it was pretty innocent. He’s just a single parent looking for companionship and help. I seemed like an easy answer, but he knows better now.”

“Fuck him,” Bannerman said contemptuously. “You don’t use your kid like that.” Then he winced. “They’ve got a tough job. Parents, I mean. But so do you.”

“So do you.”

“Not like yours.” He slid his hand under her top and fondled her pensively. “This is cool, right?”

“Very cool.”

“Don’t you mean: hot?”

She laughed ruefully. “You tell me.”

“Yeah, you mean hot,” he assured her, lifting her into his arms. “Give me a good send-off. Then I’ll get out of your hair until next week, I promise.”

 

• • •

 

When Rachel arrived at the restaurant on Sunday, Kerrie had ordered champagne and an assortment of appetizers and was literally glowing with happiness.

“Sean and I had the best time ever last night. Coz was visiting his dad in the hospital, so we spent the whole night together.”

“Is your father-in-law okay?”

“What?” Kerrie winced and explained. “It was gall bladder surgery. Meanwhile, I’m not the only one who had fun. Sean seemed soooo happy. And he never once called me a married woman. I think it’s finally happening, Rachel. He’s falling in love for sure.”

Rachel gave her a stern look. “That’s a lot of responsibility, Kerrie.”

“Oh, my God, you’re such a teacher. Can’t you just be happy for me? For
us?”

Rachel bit her lip. As bad as it sounded, she actually preferred it when Sean was keeping his boundaries in place. Meeting her, having sex with her, but always with his guard up because Kerrie was someone else’s wife. Insisting he wanted to date her
after
her divorce.

“You’re putting too much pressure on him,” she explained finally. “It’s not fair to Sean, and it’s not fair to you. It’s going to backfire. I’m sure of it.”

Kerrie stayed silent for a moment, then gave her a playful smile. “When you finally fall in love, you’ll get it. It doesn’t have to make sense. Doesn’t have to be logical. You don’t calculate the odds on love, you just go for it.”

Rachel massaged her eye sockets with her fingers. “Fine. But I want to talk to Sean about it.”

“No.” Kerrie’s golden eyes twinkled. “Drink your champagne. Then we’re going shopping. I’ve got Sean on the hook. I need something to reel him in with.”

“Kerrie—”

“I’m
kidding.
But we’re at a crossroads, and I want to look extra hot.”

Rachel didn’t have a good response for that, so she downed the glass of champagne. Then they polished off the appetizers and two giant slices of chocolate cake, then headed for the boutiques, where Kerrie discovered the perfect dress for her crazy purposes.

BOOK: Play Date (Play Makers Book 3)
2.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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