Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (20 page)

How had he put it? Everyone noticed his
precise passing, but none of that would happen if he couldn’t stay
on his feet? Complete the play no matter how many opponents tried
to take him down?

And there it was, right before her eyes. A
pillar of strength. But still, she loved the precision passing most
of all, especially when the announcers went wild with praise,
calling him the best ever.

She could definitely attest to
that.

She spent hours going over the game,
re-winding, muting, freezing, trying to follow the play-by-play, to
understand the penalties, to see it not just through Wyatt’s eyes,
but some of the other players’ as well. How did it feel to get hit
so hard? And conversely, what a rush to catch an uncatchable ball
and hold on to it long enough for it to count in the eyes of the
ultra-picky referees, who clearly had a vendetta against Wyatt’s
team.

Suspecting the Super Bowl would be much,
much worse on that front, she decided not to watch it yet even
though it was the ultimate big game, and even though her first and
only client had won it with some help from PMA’s other stars. So
she spent the rest of the day, and all of Monday, on material Murf
had supplied.

She expected a call from Emily by then, but
apparently protecting the little ones from their well-meaning
grandma was a full-time job, because the harried mother settled for
lots and lots of texts. The big one on Saturday night that said:
Assume you went through with the lesson?

To which Darcie sent the honest but
misleading reply:
I absolved him of the obligation
.

Smart girl. Absolve me of bad thoughts about
G while ur at it.

After that the texts were simply hilarious,
although the pain behind them was evident, especially ones like:
G heard tis easy to buy gun in TX. Wants one. Do NOT tempt
me.

Or:
B hiding in closet b/c G threatened
to take shopping.

“B” was a reference to the firstborn: Brian
Murphy, a sweet kid who was no match for his grandma. The second
boy—Zack—had his mom’s backbone so he probably stood a chance.

And as for Nell:
N can sleep thru
anything. Even G
.

Luckily, reinforcements in the form of Murf
would arrive on Wednesday, since that was the day he and Emily had
determined would be her breaking point. After that, four more days,
then Genevieve would fly out on Sunday morning.

Which meant both Emily and Darcie had reason
to look forward to the weekend.

• • •

On Tuesday, she headed to San Diego, where
she rented a sexy black Lexus and drove along the coast to Bam’s
condo. He had reportedly been concerned about all the Bannerman
fans mobbing Rachel’s little house, so he had moved her to this
high-security building overlooking miles of white-sand beach. And
given the no-nonsense way the guard checked Darcie’s name against
his list of approved guests, she was fairly sure Rachel was in good
hands.

She was also in the lap of splendor, a fact
Darcie noted when she strolled through a sumptuous marble lobby,
checked in again with a smiling receptionist, then took a noiseless
elevator to the top floor. Rachel greeted her warmly, then seemed
almost apologetic as she led her into San Diego’s version of the
Taj Mahal.

“Wow,” Darcie murmured, dazzled by the
travertine floors, plastered walls of pale, creamy blue, and the
expanse of windows and French doors leading onto a deep balcony
beyond which the sparkling waters of the Pacific provided all the
décor one could ever desire.

“It’s a little much,” Rachel said with a wry
smile. “But he loves it. And obviously it’s gorgeous, so who’s
complaining? Come and sit.” She led her to a large sofa slipcovered
in white cotton duck with pale blue seashells. “Can I get you
something?”

“I can’t believe that view.”

“Oh, shall we sit outside? If we swivel the
TV we can still see it, thank God. I watch the sunset while Vince
watches the Portland Trailblazers.”

Darcie followed her onto the balcony and
chose a chair at a glass table where she could set up her laptop
for the photos. “We don’t need the TV. Everything’s loaded on this
baby.”

“Perfect. I have fresh lemonade, so give me
a minute and we’ll relax.”

Darcie’s mind was already clicking.
Apparently even this gorgeous view and Bam’s enthusiasm couldn’t
sway Rachel on this place. And even though Darcie would personally
kill to live here, she could see why Rachel balked. There was an
icy grandeur that clashed with the blonde’s natural warmth. And
while it surely clashed with Bam’s barbarian routine too, it was
huge, sexy and dramatic, so no wonder he felt at home.

As soon as Rachel settled into a chair she
assured Darcie, “I’m excited about living in Portland. But
honestly, Vince’s house is fine with me. I might redecorate one
day, but the woods around it are beautiful. And practically every
room has a huge fireplace. So I could learn to love it.”

“I’ve heard about that place,” Darcie said
with a laugh. “The world’s most massive man cave? Even if we gut it
and re-furnish, it’ll always be infused with the sweaty specter of
indoor basketball and racquetball courts. I mean, seriously?
Indoors?”

She laughed too. “Boxy with high ceilings,
room after room. It would definitely be a challenge.”

“It’s out. But look at some of these lake
views.” Darcie scrolled through a photo array, noting with a smile
that Rachel was nodding politely. Apparently, they hadn’t hit on
the right thing yet.

“Do you like Johnny and Erica’s house?”

“It’s lovely. Perfect for them,” Rachel
insisted. “Like a mountain lodge for two.”

“Translation: too big and woodsy?”

“I could be happy there. Or anywhere,
really. That’s my point.”

“You’re impossible. But check
this
out.” Darcie paged to her favorite property thus far, and while she
now knew it was too large and impersonal, it had character to spare
thanks to a whitewashed back porch and a small but impressive apple
orchard on one side.

Rachel sat up straighter. “I like it. A lot
of upkeep though. I mean, it’s three stories. So how many rooms is
that?” She gave an apologetic wince. “Vince shares a housekeeping
service with the McSpurlings and Sean, but I’m planning on doing
all that myself. And with a full-time job? That’s a lot.”

“You’re
keeping
the housekeeper,
Rachel,” Darcie drawled. “Work with me,
please?”

The schoolteacher giggled. “You sound like
Vince. Except with cleaner language.”

Darcie took a sip of her lemonade then
leaned back in her chair. “Let’s take a break. Tell me how you met
him. At Johnny and Erica’s wedding, right?”

“I was there as Sean’s date. Did you know
that?”

“No. So that was
before . . .” She grimaced. “I know a little bit
about his current situation.”

“Oh, I’m glad you mentioned that.” Rachel
reached across the table and squeezed Darcie’s hand. “He told me
how supportive you’ve been about Kerrie. That means so much,
Darcie. The others have completely lost patience with her. Not that
I blame them.”

“They’re protective of Sean. Like he’s
everyone’s little brother.”

Rachel pursed her lips. “My theory is, they
want the old Triple Threat back. A year ago they were three single
guys on the prowl, going fishing, partying, hanging out. Then
Johnny brought Erica in, and that was cool. Then Vince brought me.
So now they want to magically become three
couples
hanging
out together. No muss, no fuss. And particularly, no messy divorce
to spoil their fun. And of course,” she added sheepishly, “they
absolutely care about Sean. Who wouldn’t? He’s an amazing friend to
them, and like you said, the youngest. But that cuts both ways,
right? They think they can make his decisions for him, but Sean’s
his own man. I
know,
because I’ve tried to boss him around
and he’s un-bossable.”

“You’re a genius,” Darcie told her
reverently. “It makes much more sense your way. An easy transition
from three bachelors to three couples. Except of course, life isn’t
easy.”

Rachel sighed. “I’m prejudiced because I
want this for Kerrie almost as much as Sean. Which is why he can’t
always be frank with me, right? But he says you’re a good listener.
And he needs that. So thanks.”

“You’re caught in the middle for sure. So
I’ll do what I can.” Trying for a cheerful smile, she changed the
subject again. “So? You were dating Sean? And then Bam happened?
That must have been wild.”

“You have no idea.” Rachel arched a teasing
eyebrow. “You haven’t heard the worst of it. I was supposed to be
dating
Johnny,
not Sean. That’s how we all met. My best
friend Beth is married to Johnny’s brother and she tried to set me
and Johnny up. Obviously, chaos ensued.”

Darcie bit back a frustrated howl. Was this
how Wyatt felt when she described her convoluted relationship to
Murf? “Your best friend is Johnny’s brother’s wife? But Sean stole
you from Johnny then Bam stole you from Sean? Perfectly normal,
Rachel. I’m surprised you even mentioned it.”

Rachel laughed. “No one stole anyone. It all
happened just like it was meant to happen.” Her blue eyes began to
twinkle. “We give Beth full credit for me and Vince even though she
would never,
ever
have tried to match me with him. She calls
him Sasquatch and he calls her Sarge, short for drill sergeant. I
should introduce you to her,” she added eagerly. “She’s the world’s
most determined matchmaker. And you’re single, right? I usually
don’t approve of set-ups, but I make an exception for Bethie for
obvious reasons.”

“He calls her drill sergeant? That’s a
little intimidating.”

Rachel’s smile grew impish. “Sean’s scared
of her too. And now that I think about it, this plan is flawed.
Because she’ll try to match you with
him.
Because she
doesn’t know about Kerrie. And trust me, she’d freak out about the
married-woman factor. Especially after she tried to set
me
up with him. And Erica too, I’m told.”

“Okay, it’s pledge time.
Never
tell
her about me, or it’s the man cave for the rest of your life.”
Darcie grinned. “What’s Johnny’s brother like?”

“Completely adorable. And
sooo
laid-back. So he and Beth seem like a mismatch. But then, so do
Vince and I, right?”

“Opposites attract,” Darcie agreed
dutifully, remembering how she had said the same thing to Johnny.
Now she wondered how true it was. Rachel and Bam weren’t just
opposites, they were a princess paired with a barbarian.

But what about Darcie and Wyatt? They
weren’t opposites, were they? Both were competitive, especially
with each other. Both tall. Dark-haired. Proud of their
accomplishments. Their families. Easily offended, easily
amused . . .

“Darcie?”

“Oh, sorry.” She knew she was blushing.
“Let’s get back to house hunting. I need to understand this.
Because . . .” She swept her arm to encompass the
view. “If you don’t like this, that lake won’t work for you
either.”

“I love the view. And the accommodations are
gorgeous. Like living in a resort. Nice for a while, but not a
home.” She eyed Darcie pleadingly. “Don’t tell Vince I said that.
But really, there’s nothing here but fluff. We have a few plants in
pots, but there’s not an inch of real dirt that goes with this
unit. Even my postage stamp of a house has space for trees and a
garden and a patch of lawn,” she added in a daydream-y voice. “All
the ocean and sand in the world can’t compete with that.”

“Where is it?”

“My house? About half an hour from here. I
loved
living there. And Vince loves it as much as I do, but
we were getting late-night visits from diehard fans, so we had to
move.”

“Can you show it to me?”

“Really?” Rachel was on her feet in an
instant. “Wait till you see it, Darce. It’s just—well,
perfect.”

• • •

Let’s play that travel game where we see who
can stay quiet longest . . .

Fresh from his daily run, Wyatt chuckled
aloud. Of all the advice Darcie had given him, this was his
favorite. Of course, if he had taken it, he wouldn’t be sleeping
with her now, would he?

Acutely aware of her flaws, he had done his
best to resist her. For one thing, she could be manipulative as
hell, although usually for a good cause. Like ensuring a decent
present for Bea and Tony. And her methods? Great body, killer
smile, blatant flirting? He wasn’t about to complain about those.
Even her habit of trying to make him jealous by mentioning her
Lancer clients every five effing minutes cracked him up.

Plus, there were images he couldn’t un-see.
Like her sparkling green eyes mocking him even though
he
was
a well-known athlete and
she
was a sports agent who never
heard of the Surgeon. Or her body slumbering beside him on the
plane, her perfect breasts on display through skimpy fabric, her
breathing rhythmic, even that glistening of drool at the corner of
her pretty mouth. Her bare shoulders at the NFL fundraiser. Her
ass
at the NFL fundraiser . . .

He never stood a chance.

And so, like any great quarterback, or even
a competent one, he had revised his original call and was going for
it, big time. He’d wine her and dine her at LA’s best restaurants,
take her to some tropical island for a week of mutual pampering,
and make love to her gorgeous body every weekend—at least until
training camp started.

Hopefully he’d also make her happy in the
process.

It was only fair, since Wyatt hadn’t felt
this happy in a very long time. Not only had he met the ultimate
fun date, he had paid homage to his first coach—the guy who
single-handedly saved his career. Add to that his extra-long visit
at the Bourne ranch—an obligation that had been hanging over his
head—and this was truly the best string of days in recent
memory.