Page 24 of Game On

“He belonged to a family in my neighborhood in San Diego. I’d see him outside playing with the kids when I went jogging. He was always coming up to me and jogging along until we got to the end of their yard. He really is a good dog. One day, I was driving by and noticed the family had moved. I guess I hadn’t been paying too much attention because I didn’t realize the house was on the market. Anyway, a few days later I found Beckett rummaging through my garbage cans. The family had just up and left him. I learned later that they had been foreclosed on. I guess they couldn’t afford the expense of another mouth to feed.”

“But leaving him to fend for himself, that’s cruel!” Carly’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yeah, well, the vet says it happens more often than you’d think. I meant to find him a home, a family with kids. He really seems to like them. But it’s been six months and I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Shane Devlin, you’re never getting rid of that dog,” she said with a knowing grin.

She was right, of course, her confident words touching something deep inside. Shane stood riveted, admiring her smile as the lights danced on the harbor behind her head. She took another sip of her wine and held his gaze.

“Aunt Carly!” Molly appeared out of nowhere, shattering the moment. “Mom says we need to find our table for dinner. Can I sit next to you, please! I don’t want to sit next to Grandpa Richardson. I think he took a bath in his Old Spice again, and if I have to smell it at dinner, I’ll just puke!”

He watched jealously as Carly turned her beautiful smile to her niece, reaching over to gently cradle the girl’s cheek, a move that instantly settled the girl down.

“Of course, pumpkin. Go ahead to table number three and pick out the seats you want us to sit in.”

Molly left them at a gallop, weaving her way through the crowd to find their table.

“She’s a bit of a drama queen, but she’s a sweetie,” she said with an apologetic grin.

“That’s okay. I’m not that big a fan of Old Spice either.”

Carly laughed then. Really laughed. Shane nearly lost his breath at the sound. Unable to resist temptation any longer—he had to touch her—he held out his arm to her.

“Shall we?” he asked. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arm around his sleeve.

Carly really had to stop drinking. She’d guzzled a glass of wine already and was moving quickly through a second with dinner. Her nerves were a mess. It was bad enough to have to spend the evening doing the pretty with her father and his wife, but Julianne had wrapped her in some concoction which had most of the men ogling her all evening. Publicly flaunting her sexuality had been her mother’s trick, not Carly’s. As much as possible, she preferred to fly below the radar.

Then there was Shane. Oh my, he looked good in a tuxedo. If she were being honest, Shane looked hot even when he had on sweaty running shorts and a T-shirt. But when she laid eyes on him tonight, she nearly keeled over in her high heels. Most athletes looked like sausages stuffed into a tux, their necks too wide for the collar or their thighs bulging out of their pants. But not Shane. He looked like he just stepped out of a 1950s nightclub. And he was being sweet. Almost as if he sensed how stressed she was by having to spend the evening with her father and stepmother.

They were seated at a round table just next to the dais, surrounded by her nieces and nephew, Matt’s parents and Penny, who was escorted by one of the team’s crusty offensive line coaches. The dinner had been enjoyable with the old coach and Mr. Richardson trading stories, each more colorful than the next, until Penny and Mrs. Richardson had reminded both men that “little ears” were present. Shane seemed to be enjoying himself, too. The strain she’d perceived during that first dinner with the family not evident this evening. He joked with the older men at the table and paid equal attention to the kids. He and C.J. spent part of dinner discussing cars and football, C.J. apparently having left his surly demeanor at home. At times, Molly stood between Shane and Carly’s shoulders, watching as Shane played a game on her pink Nintendo DS.

“I wonder what’s on the menu for dessert?” Mr. Richardson asked, patting his belly and winking at his grandchildren.

“Chocolate mousse cheesecake,” Penny said.

“Aunt Carly’s favorite!” Emma clapped her hands.

“With lots of whipped cream, I’ll bet,” Shane said softly.

Carly quickly turned to glance at him. He was leaning toward her, his shoulder lightly touching hers. His forearms rested on the table as he openly grinned at her, that errant lock of hair tempting her to touch it. She blushed for the umpteenth time that evening. Oh God, he had noticed all those whipped topping bowls in her kitchen? Taking another sip of wine she shouldn’t be drinking, she turned away from his knowing grin.

“Has anyone seen Molly?” Matt stood behind his son, looking around the table.

“She went to the bathroom a while ago, Dad,” Emma said.

“She probably fell in.” Apparently her nephew hadn’t left his attitude entirely at home. Matt lightly smacked him on the head.

“You promised me,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’ll go get her,” Matt’s mother said as she rose from her seat, placing her napkin on the table.

“No, Mom.” He stilled her with a hand on her shoulder. “The governor wants to meet you all. He’s on his way over.”

“I’ll do it,” Carly said, pushing away from the table. “I need to freshen up anyway. And, I’ve already met the governor,” she teased him.

“Hurry back,” he said. “Lisa wants to start the program soon.”

Carly waved in acknowledgment and traversed her way through the crowded ballroom. No sooner had she made it to the main lobby when she spotted Molly. A woman dressed in a tuxedo played a ragtime tune on the grand piano in the foyer while Molly sat on a stuffed chair behind her, feet swinging in time with the music, her face buried in her video game.

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