Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (43 page)

“I agree with the re-energizing part,”
Darcie told Wyatt. “You were so jazzed before that chili-dog
meeting. Like your whole life had changed for the better.”

“I give
you
credit for that,” he said
with a rueful smile.

“Except Murf just explained the real
reason.”

“Did I?” Murf asked innocently. “Wyatt was
looking for a way to shake things up. Dating a girl like you—a
proven troublemaker—was one way to do that. Brainstorming with
Aaron Spurling was another.”

“Excuse me?” she demanded, only half
joking.

Murf shrugged. “You constantly challenge the
status quo. Admit it. So in a sense, dating you was a symptom of
his discontent, just like Butler and Stoddard. Anyway, back to my
presentation to the Jets. I’ll explain that even though they’re a
proven winner, they can’t offer you the chance for professional and
personal growth the Rustlers can. Not at this stage of your
career.”

He took a sip of water, then continued.
“I’ll also share what you told Darcie about Mark Serna. That he can
step into their system seamlessly. Because oddly enough, that
changes the dynamic for
them
as well. Suddenly,
they
aren’t just doing the same old thing and expecting a different
result.”

Wyatt nodded vigorously. “That’s beautiful.
Because Mark
can
step up. And without the need to pay
me,
they’ll have room under the cap to surround him with
more weapons. Damn,” he said admiringly. “Before we know it,
they’ll be
begging
me to leave.”

“That’s the plan,” Murf agreed. “Which leads
me to the technical details. Obviously, the Rustlers have to cough
up some valuable picks. And we can work a few trades as well. I’m
thinking Joel Johnson? He’d fit their scheme better, wouldn’t he?
And to help Serna make the jump to elite QB, there’s a college
coach who came to our attention during the search for a head coach
for the Lancers. He wants the big job, but his forte is grooming
quarterbacks. If he’s smart, he’ll serve a couple of years as QB
coach with the Jets, then try again for a head coach position. And
if the Jets are smart, they’ll scoop him up.”

Wyatt’s gray eyes sparkled. “I know you
can’t tell me—”

“Sure I can. Just keep it in this room. It’s
Bryant McGill.”

“Damn . . .” Wyatt exhaled
again, this time almost a whistle. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if the
Jets won it all? Thanks to you?”

“They won’t. The Lancers own it for the next
few years,” Murf said, his voice ringing with pride. “After that,
their biggest challenge will come from you and the Rustlers. I have
to admit, I’m salivating over
that
matchup.”

“My head is spinning,” Darcie
complained.

“There’s a lot more to this deal,” Murf
assured her. “Wyatt? If you can study that display and give me your
input, I’d appreciate it. It’s rough, but if I can hammer out a
framework, the teams can noodle the fine points themselves.”

“Especially since it’s not about the money,”
Wyatt agreed. “Make sure they know that.”

“It’s
always
about the money,” Murf
corrected him.

“Huh?”

“Just take my word for it. So what do you
say, folks? Had enough for one day?” He stood and gathered his
papers into a stack. “Time to let the world know I’m the Surgeon’s
agent. Not to mention get my beauty sleep. So if there’s nothing
else?”

“It’s already more than I hoped for,” Wyatt
told him, standing and shaking hands. “Thanks, Murf.”

“We’re gonna take them by storm, partner. No
doubt about it.” To Darcie he added briskly, “Buckle up. And stay
by the phone. This is uncharted territory even for me. So I might
need help. And meanwhile, I’ll need that feedback from Wyatt. Then
the two of you should work on his first public statements about the
move.”

“Sounds like fun.” She gave him a hug.
“Thanks for including me.”

“Did I have a choice?”

“Hush.”

He chuckled. “I’ll update you tomorrow on my
progress. Then we’ll meet back here Wednesday to brainstorm the
Rustlers meet. And needless to say,” he finished dryly, “don’t talk
to anyone but each other. If you get a press contact, ignore it. I
don’t think the Jets will try to contact you, Wyatt, but once
again, silence is your friend. And no Spurling contact, not even
Erica. Got it?”

“Got it,” Darcie promised

While Wyatt returned to the table to study
the technical scheme, and Murf went to his bedroom to pack, she
stepped out onto the balcony and took the first deep breath for
what felt like hours. Despite all her confidence in her boss, she
hadn’t been sure he could do this. Or that
anyone
could.

Now it almost seemed pre-destined.

And the painful disclosure about Hannah and
the baby? Even that seemed like a small miracle, given the
cathartic bonding between two hopelessly alpha males.

When Murf reemerged in jeans and a
long-sleeved shirt, and carrying a suit bag and duffle, Wyatt
strode over and told him bluntly, “They’re gonna salivate over your
plan. With one exception. So if you’re really asking for
input—”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Fine.” The two men walked to the monitor,
then Wyatt explained. “They’ll want Johnston. You’re right about
that. But what they really crave is a corner with stronger
enforcement skills. It seems like a bizarre ask, but if you could
work a guy like Paul Remmer into the deal—”

“Remmer?” Murf grinned. “A three-way with
the Eagles?”

“Huh?” Wyatt raised both palms in protest.
“I didn’t mean Remmer himself—”

“Why not? It’s
brilliant.
Another
nightmare, but this is the week for those, right?” Before Wyatt
could respond, he slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got eighteen
hours to make this work. And luckily, the Eagles have cap trouble
and their GM owes me a favor. So we’ll give it the old college
try.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Any other bright ideas?”

Wyatt laughed. “Like you said: we each have
our job to do. I’m glad
this
part’s yours.”

Murf gave Darcie a sympathetic smile. “Lost
again?”

“How do you keep track of all these guys?”
she demanded. “Law school was never like this.”

“You only have two guys to keep track of. Me
and Wyatt. Think you can handle that?”

“Patrick goddammed Murphy and the Surgeon?
Probably not.”

“Well, make it work, ’cause I’m outta here.
Wyatt?” He extended his arm to his new client for a final
handshake. “I won’t let you down. And, Darcie?”

“Yes?”

“I love the hell out of you.” He hugged her
exuberantly. “Call me anytime. Otherwise, stay off the phone.”

He exited like a whirlwind, then Wyatt took
Darcie by the hand and led her back to the balcony, where they
embraced each other in mutual shock.

“He’s really gonna do it,” Wyatt said
finally.

“I know.” She looked into his euphoric face.
“We should celebrate tonight.”

“In the Jaguar? Yeah,” he said, his stupor
morphing into a grin. “We’ve definitely waited long enough.”

• • •

News that the Surgeon had signed with
Patrick Murphy electrified the sports world, all of whom now
believed Wyatt Bourne would receive the NFL’s most lucrative QB
contract to date.

From the Jets.

No one dreamed he’d go to another team. Why
would he? How could he? The Jets were on track for another Super
Bowl, so they were the smart choice. And they had anchored him with
a franchise tag, so they were in the driver’s seat.

Calls poured in all afternoon, not just to
Wyatt but to Darcie, since clients of PMA along with random friends
and acquaintances wanted the inside scoop. Reminding herself that
“silence is your friend,” she either feigned ignorance or referred
them to PMA central. Wyatt received similar calls from teammates
and coaches, but didn’t feel the need to return them at all since
his outgoing messages clearly stated he was “out of town on
personal business.”

At dusk, they drove up the coast and dined
in a lovely roadside hideaway, where Wyatt gave her a rundown of
his week at the Bourne ranch. And while they had vowed not to
discuss business, she made an exception to tell him about sliders
with Sean and Bam so she could confess to the now-infamous photo of
her bra—and its contents. She expected him to be shocked, but
instead he roared with laughter, then demanded two things in
return. She’d never do anything like that again—unless it was a
private showing for
him
. And she’d get him a copy ASAP.

After that, they found a remote spot for
Jaguar sex, which ended up working a lot better for Wyatt than
Darcie given the logistics. When she complained, he gave her a rain
check, and then, because it was a beautiful night, they worked
their way through the thick underbrush between the road and the
beach until they found a primitive spot with a view of the setting
sun.

There was so much to say. But thanks to
their vow not to talk business, they ended up walking in silence
along the edge of the water until Wyatt finally gave it a try. “So?
What did you think of our first date?”

Darcie snuggled against him. “You don’t
count the chili dogs as a date?”

He laughed. “Maybe so.”

“Emily thinks the anniversary party was our
first date.”

“How?”

“You invited me. I was all hot and bothered.
We shared intimate details. Spent hours together. Kissed. I met
your family. Then we made plans to get together again. How was it
not
a date?”

“Well, for one thing, we agreed it wasn’t.”
He pretended to scowl. “Is this what you two do when you visit her?
Invent crackpot theories about break-up contracts and first
dates?”

“Sometimes we play with the babies. But
mostly it’s crackpot theories.”

He chuckled. “Can I ask you something?
Semi-serious?”

“Of course.”

“Do I owe you a million dollars?”

“That’s business,” she scolded him. “And no,
not yet. I kept those provisions exactly the way you wrote them. So
it’s five hundred thousand on proof that a viable embryo was
successfully implanted, and the rest on delivery.”

“Did I actually write it that way? No wonder
you were insulted.” He kissed her apologetically. “What I should
have said was, I’ll give you everything I own.”

“Mmm . . .” She melted
against him, wishing they were home in bed. Or better yet,
somewhere millions of miles away, just the two of them.

But first, she had to make something clear.
Even if it ruined the mood. So she traced his lips with her
fingertip and murmured, “You know I don’t want your money, right?
But it’s a good reason to re-visit the baby contract next week.
When the dust settles.”

“When I’m an LA Rustler?”

She giggled at the hot blue gleam in his
eyes. “I love it when you get like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like the all-powerful Surgeon.”

The blue gleam flashed again, then he
tackled her to the sand and took her with hard, sure passion while
she clung to him, her soft moans muffled by the roar of the waves
as she came again and again, unwilling to let it end. And even when
they were still, she couldn’t help feeling aroused when he
murmured, “I don’t really try to dominate you, do I?”

“I love it.”

“Don’t let me do that, Darcie. I’m
serious.”

She stroked his jaw with quiet delight. “You
never really would. And I’d never really let you. That’s why we can
do it.”

For a moment he seemed unconvinced. Then he
flashed a grin and said, “Well then, prepare to be dominated.”

• • •

By the time they returned to her house,
there was no question whether he would stay the night. Not only
were they exhausted, they were virtually inseparable. Finishing
each other’s sentences, satisfying each other’s unspoken urges,
heady with the scent, the feel, the simple presence of each other.
Not that it seemed romantic to Darcie. More primal. Instinctual.
Irrefutable.

Would they have a baby together soon?
Absolutely. But there was more to them now.
His
career. Her
career. Her rampant adoration for him. His certainty that she had
changed his life for the better.

Wasn’t that enough?

As they drifted into sleep, spooning
contentedly, Wyatt almost put it into words when he told her
softly, “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?”

“I think so,” she whispered. “I feel the
same way.”

“I don’t want anyone else. Not ever,” he
insisted, turning her to face him. “But I can’t give you what you
really want. Not completely, at least. I’m just not wired that
way.”

She studied his gray eyes, more fascinated
than upset. “What do you mean?”

“When you first told me about Murf and
Emily, you said you accepted him right away because he worshipped
her. If that’s what you want—”

“Worship?” She shook her head. “No, Wyatt.
That works for
them
. Mostly because Emily’s so cool. But
I
don’t need that. If anything . . .” She
laughed sheepishly. “It’s the reverse for us. We’re in it for the
challenge. And I love it. I have from the start.”

“So have I. I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying. Now listen to
me
. I don’t want anyone else either. Not ever. Just
you.”

“Okay then.” He gathered her close to his
chest. “Let’s get some sleep.”

• • •

Wyatt had booked a ninety-minute workout for
early the next morning, knowing he needed the release, and
determined to start his new career in the best shape ever. But he
kept his phone on high alert and hurried back to Darcie as soon as
he was showered, then chuckled to find her still lounging in bed,
sipping coffee and doing research on Jake Johnston and Paul
Remmer.