Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (24 page)

“No.”

“Does she eat ice cream?”

Brian giggled. “She’s not allowed to.”

“Can she play Candy Land with me?”

Even Zack was laughing now. “She’s a baby,
Aunt Darcie.”

“Well then, you guys will have to do all
those things with me. But we’ll try to include Smoochie,
right?”

They nodded, then Emily and Murf were back,
providing living proof they weren’t going to a restaurant. More
like the no-tell motel, with shorts, loose-fitting tank tops and
sandals that could be kicked off as soon as the
Do Not
Disturb
sign was posted.

“I need to nurse the baby before we go, but
I’ll be quick about it,” Emily informed Darcie.

“Yeah, you’re almost as busty as me,” Darcie
teased. “Get those puppies down a quart, then go away.”

“I’ll get Nell,” Murf offered, already
headed for the nursery.

Emily pulled Darcie into another hug.
“Thanks for this. I wanted to make a fuss over
you,
not the
other way around. But Murf seems to need it, doesn’t he?”

“Right.
Murf
needs it. Not you
though, right?”

“Quiet.” She turned to greet her husband and
baby, giving each a kiss, then settling down with them on the sofa
to nurse—and apparently do some discreet necking—while Darcie
scooted the boys into the kitchen, ready to make them feel as
special as any newborn for the rest of the evening.

• • •

The next morning, an extremely grateful
Patrick Murphy took his sons to the park while an extremely
relaxed
Emily settled on the sofa with Darcie. Between them,
Nell slept serenely, nestled under a light cover. On the coffee
table were a scrumptious array of brunch items, a newly delivered
vase of pink roses, and a pitcher of mimosas.

“I’m not going to ask how you earned those
roses,” Darcie teased her friend.

“No more stalling. I want to hear
everything.”

Darcie hesitated, then nodded. “First of
all, I didn’t lie to you. I was actually going to call him and
cancel, but then he called first—while I was in Portland on the Bam
deal—and I thought
he
was going to cancel. But instead, he
flirted a little, then warned me to rest up because he was taking
the football lesson seriously. Then on Saturday he showed up,
taught me a lot about football, then took a break to kiss me.
That’s
when I absolved him of any further obligation for
lessons. So when I sent you that text, it was totally true.”

“Lawyers,” Emily complained with a laugh.
“So all you did that first lesson was kiss?”

“That was his plan. But he had this crazy
idea that the girls were fake, and when he realized they were
real . . .” She grinned sheepishly. “It was so much
fun, Em, but he had to run off right away to a retirement party for
his coach. And like I said, he arrived with a plan, which was to do
all three hours of the lessons that first Saturday, then we’d have
our first official date yesterday. He even rented a Jag to take me
to dinner.”

“Nice,” Emily admitted.

“It was the perfect vehicle for him. He’s
tall and dark and sleek, but also so powerful, right? Like a pillar
of strength.”

“Are we talking about him or his penis?”

Darcie laughed. “Both. Anyway, he started
off yesterday with all these ground rules. He called it managing
expectations, because he clearly isn’t looking for a long-term
thing. And since I’m just starting a new job, that was fine with me
too.”

“Another lie, but go on.” Emily noticed her
hesitation and rolled her eyes. “What?”

“This is the manipulative-bitch part,” she
warned. Then she explained how he had pulled out at the worst time
during their first lovemaking, and how he had insisted anything
else was a deal breaker despite belts, suspenders, and prescription
contraceptives.

“So he repeated that rule yesterday, just to
be doubly certain. And I was prepared to respect it. I swear I was.
But there was something in his eyes, like he wanted it as much as I
did. So I sort of seduced him into coming inside me. It was
sensational, but he was sooo pissed. He stormed out and roared
away, tires squealing. Gone for good.”

“Did he actually use the phrase
‘manipulative bitch’?”

“No. But that was the point. I tricked him
with my female wiles.” She exhaled sharply. “I actually feel
horrible about that part.”

“You didn’t trick him, you tempted him.”

Darcie shrugged. “What’s the diff? Bad is
bad.”

“Tricking means making someone do something
they
don’t
want to do. You
tem
p
t
them into
something they
do
want to do.”

It was a lovely rationalization, so Darcie
nodded in appreciation. “I love your brain. But I doubt he’d agree.
Because he had his suspicions about me from the start, or so he
said. That he knew I’d be a mistake because I just
had
to
have my way. Like it was a competition or something. When actually,
he was winning by a mile and I was fine with that.”

When Emily seemed to ponder those facts,
Darcie continued ruefully. “He’s so sure it’s fear of pregnancy
that makes him pull out like that. But I told him—and it’s
true—he’s afraid of intimacy, right? Getting off at the same time
is so—well, personal.”

“That’s the part that makes me crazy.
He
has an obsession with pulling out, and you have one with
simultaneous orgasms.”

“I do not.”

“Remember who you’re talking to,” Emily
advised her dryly. “It’s some sort of holy grail to you. Even
though, spoiler alert, there are a
lot
better things that
can happen in bed.” Leaning over to the roses and inhaling deeply,
she told her with a teasing smile, “Exhibit A.”

“Show-off.” Darcie shook her head, knowing
her friend was technically correct. She
had
had a thing for
getting off together—or rather, a frustration that her college
boyfriend didn’t even seem to try. But that had been years ago. And
while sure, she hadn’t had it with either of the next two lovers,
and yes, she had wanted it with Wyatt, she had also been willing to
forgo it.

“It’s not about sex,” she repeated firmly.
“It’s about intimacy.”

Emily was pondering again, and Darcie
decided to let her do her thing, especially since Nell was starting
to squirm. So she scooped up the baby and buried her face in her
tiny tummy, cooing, “New baby smell. Num . . .
num . . . num.”

Nell giggled and grabbed a handful of
Darcie’s hair in a grip of steel.

“Wow,” Emily murmured. “I think she actually
recognizes you. Imagine if you moved to Dallas and saw her every
day.”

“It’s tempting,” Darcie admitted. “So?
What’s the verdict?”

“Ready?”

“It’s that bad?”

Emily took Nell and cuddled her, then hooked
her up to her right breast and began the lesson. “I don’t think
it’s fear of intimacy.
Or
fear of pregnancy. I think it’s
about control.
Total
control. That’s his reputation, isn’t
it? No detail left to chance. Pinpoint precision. Like you said
earlier, a pillar of strength. That’s how he runs his offense, and
that’s how he runs his relationships. And that,” she added with a
sigh, “is why he knew it wouldn’t work with you from the start. He
liked you—
wanted
you—but he also saw how you are.
Spontaneous and irreverent. Surgeons can’t handle that.”

“I guess that’s possible. I didn’t feel
controlled, though.”

“Think about it. He kept putting his
headphones on during that flight. Not because you were annoying
him, but because he was having fun with a stranger.
That’s
control.”

“Okay, go on.”

“Then he called you for a date. But he
insisted it wasn’t a
real
date, even though it clearly
was.”

“It was?”

“Absolutely. Then he comes to your house for
a so-called football lesson but you guys just happen to make love.
But he claims the first date
still
hasn’t happened yet.
Control, control, control.”

Darcie eyed her fondly. “You really think
the fake date was a real one?”

“Let’s review the facts. He called you and
asked you to a party. He picked you up at your house. He confided
private details about his past. He teased you. Flirted with you,
really. Introduced you to his family, kissed you in some weedy
garden, walked you to your door, and then made plans to get
together again. Sounds like a first date to me.”

“Wow, it really does. He’d be
so
pissed if he knew.” Darcie grinned. “Which makes the first lesson
our
second
date, and yesterday our third.”

“By then, the poor guy’s head was spinning.
Because
you
were wresting control. And he can’t handle that.
Because it’s serious business to him even though—to you—it’s a
game.”

“Which actually sounds romantic.”

“That’s because you’re clinically insane. No
one else thinks so. But since you climaxed at the same time, you’re
sure you’re fated to be together forever.”

Darcie scowled. “I didn’t say that. I
know
it’s over. He doesn’t trust me anymore, assuming he
ever did.”

“It’s not about trust, Darce. It’s
control.”

“No,” Darcie assured her sadly. “He felt
betrayed. You should have seen his face. But I love
your
theory because I’m the innocent victim and everything is
his
fault.”

“Wow, you really are competitive with him,”
Emily said, arching an eyebrow as she switched Nell to the other
side. “It’s not about fault. It’s just a hot, sexy mismatch. The
very thing that attracts him to you is the thing he can’t
tolerate.” She grimaced and admitted, “That
does
sound
romantic, doesn’t it?”

“No. It sounds hopeless. And at least we
made up.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, right, he texted me a few hours later
and said he was sorry for the parting shot, meaning when he said I
was exactly the kind of woman he didn’t want to get pregnant.”

“He said that?”

Darcie smiled at the offended expression on
her friend’s face. “Finally you take my side. But he apologized,
and even at the time, I was goading him a little. He wanted to
leave, I kept arguing with him . . .”

Emily’s eyes warmed. “Well, it’s a good
thing he didn’t see the truth.”

“That he’s a control freak?”

“No. That you’re crazy in love with him. I’m
sorry, Darcie,” she added, reaching her free arm around her
shoulders and hugging her.

“Don’t make me cry again,” Darcie warned.
Then she smiled at the sound of the front door bursting open.
“Perfect timing.”

“I can tell him everything, right?”

“No.”

“
Please?
You already told him the
basics. I just want to share the control-freak theory.”

“Not the sex details?” When Emily nudged the
baby aside long enough to cross her heart, Darcie nodded. “Fine.
But swear him to secrecy. And make
me
sound like the
victim.”

“He’ll never believe that,” Emily assured
her as the boys ran into the room with huge smiles and
balloons.

Murf followed, smiling warily. “Is it safe?
No monkey talk?”

“Hardly.” Darcie gave each boy a squeeze,
then stood to hug Murf. “We had such a nice visit. Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“It was one date. Three at the most. I’ll
get over it.”

“One or three?” Murf arched an eyebrow
toward his wife, asking, “You’re going to explain that later,
right?”

“Of course. I’d never keep secrets from
you,” she said teasingly.

Murf’s eyes twinkled. “Feel like babysitting
again, Darcie?”

Emily blushed and stood up quickly, then
surprised Darcie by handing her the baby. “We don’t need a
babysitter again yet, but if you could change Nell while I give my
husband a stern lecture—in private—that would be helpful.”

“Lecture away,” Darcie told them with a
laugh. “And take your time. Right, boys? We have a Candy Land game
to finish anyway.”

“Yay!” they cried in unison, running for the
dining table, where the board was still set up from their umpteenth
competition.

“Yay for me too,” Murf said, wrapping his
arm around his wife and adding to Darcie, “See you in a few hours,
rookie.”

“Ten minutes,” Emily corrected him, but when
he herded her toward the master bedroom, she flashed a mischievous
smile over her shoulder and said, “Fifteen tops,
not
including travel time.”

• • •

Early Tuesday morning, Darcie accompanied
Murf to the PMA offices to renew acquaintanceships with her
colleagues and sit in the brand-new leather chair behind the huge
desk in her barely used office. She even logged onto the desktop
computer, although for actual work she had her trusty old laptop on
the credenza.

Murf was still insisting on driving her to
the airport at noon, even though several associates had offered to
act as chauffeur, so she went to his office at eleven thirty, where
he immediately handed her his landline phone.

“Emily?” she guessed.

“Sean Decker,” he replied as though it were
the most natural thing in the world. Which made sense since Sean
was a client, but still, she suspected Murf would be glad if some
illicit relationship were being forged.

“Hi, Sean,” she said into the receiver.

“Hey, babe. Murf says you’re coming to
Portland this week.”

“Round two of house hunting for Bam and
Rachel,” she confirmed.

“Come today. We’ll hang out. You’re headed
home, right? Head here instead.”

She turned away from Murf and asked Sean
quietly, “Is this a date?”

“Huh? No. Although,” he admitted, “that
would be the smart move, right? For both of us?”

“Define ‘smart,’” she said lightly. “So is
it business?”