Page 41 of Game On

“Ah.” She leaned back, picking up her wineglass as she did so. “You mean those anorexic/bulimic Hollywood types you date. I’ll bet it’s a drag having to use laxative as the main ingredient of every meal,” she teased as she took a sip of wine.

He laughed with her. “Yeah, well. I gave up cooking for women.”

She raised an eyebrow in question.

He saluted her with his wineglass. “I made an exception for you.” Relaxing, he leaned back in his chair, stretching out his jean-clad legs, crossing his bare feet at the ankles.

“I feel so honored.” She smiled at him. “Do your teammates know of your culinary talents?”

“Most of the guys on my old team did. I would cook for the offensive line a lot. They were big into ribs and Mexican. No one teased me about it, if that’s what you’re getting at. Not if they wanted to eat. You ever cook for the soccer player you were engaged to?”

He wasn’t sure what prompted him to ask. By virtue of his celebrity status, she knew everything about him. Shane wanted to even the score and know more about her love life. He didn’t want to examine why he even cared, but he did.

“Not that often,” she said. “I know my way around the kitchen, but I’m not that big into cooking. The kitchen was always Julianne’s domain.”

She’d deftly shifted the conversation off her fiancé, but Shane wasn’t going to let her leave the subject.

“Tell me about him.”

A long silence stretched as Carly toyed with her wineglass and Shane tried not to look like her response was important to him. Except it was.

“Max is a lot like Julianne: passionate and demonstrative and very Italian,” she finally said. Her words were spoken softly in a voice tinged with melancholy. “It’s easy to get caught up in his larger-than-life personality. It was also easy to drown in it. I thought I could handle it. And everything that went with it.”

Seeing the sadness reflected in Carly’s eyes, Shane felt like a jerk, wishing he’d let her change the subject when she’d attempted to.

Carly chewed on her bottom lip before continuing. “I think he liked the idea of marrying a woman who was as notorious as he was in the tabloids. It ensured he’d always get the media attention he thought he deserved. I was stupid and naïve enough to belief he loved me for who I was as a person, not as a personality.”

Shane forced himself to keep his body relaxed when inside he wanted to hit something. “The guy didn’t deserve you.” The words didn’t adequately express the feelings swirling around in his head, but he didn’t know how to deal with those, so he kept it simple.

Carly smiled sadly. “I’m just happy he followed his heart before we both made a big mistake.”

Shane stared at her. Surely she isn’t that forgiving? “Yeah, he lives happily ever after and you’re made the scapegoat by the paparazzi. Somehow I don’t think that’s fair.”

“I learned a long time ago that life isn’t fair, Shane.”

He shook his head. Was it possible this woman had thicker skin than he did?

“So now you’re spending your life waiting for an accountant or a podiatrist? Or was it an actuary and a proctologist?” Shane teased, trying to steer the conversation back to a lighter topic.

Carly’s eyes grew wide and her mouth formed a perfect O. “You were eavesdropping outside my office that day!”

He shrugged, giving her his best Devlin grin.

Carly shook her head in exasperation with him. “I’ve learned to be careful who I date. Most guys either want to save the little girl they saw in the movie about my mother. Or, they’re after my aristocratic title and the trust fund that comes with it.”

“Not me,” he drawled. “I just want you for your body.”

She buried her face in her hands. He couldn’t tell if she was laughing or just embarrassed. When she lifted her head, her eyes were shimmering. She took a deep breath.

“About that, Shane. We really need to talk.”

“Ugh. That has to be the most dreaded phrase in the female vocabulary,” he said, sitting up in his chair and leaning across the table. “Let’s not analyze this, Carly.” He took her hand, resting his palm against hers, intertwining their fingers. “Let’s just live this. I’m not going to kiss and tell and neither are you. We both know this isn’t forever. It’s just two people enjoying each other. When it’s over, it’s over. Let’s just take it one night at a time. Okay?”

Pulling her hand to his mouth, he placed an openmouthed kiss on her palm, enjoying the feel of her shiver beneath his lips. Neither one of them was immune to the other’s touch. She nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip as she did so.

Together, they finished what was left of their meal and cleaned the kitchen. The intimacy of the domestic scene should have unnerved him, but it didn’t. Carly stood beside him at the sink, barefoot and naked underneath his shirt, her hip brushing his thigh. They washed and dried the dishes while talking about their similar, dysfunctional childhoods. They laughed over stories of boarding school. They talked about their favorite foods: she craved Thai; he loved Mexican. Their favorite music: he liked grunge rock—Pearl Jam and the Red Hot Chili Peppers; she was a Top 40 girl who loved the international artists. Both loved Springsteen. He’d seen him five times; she’d seen him three. Before he knew it, the kitchen was spotless and darkness had fallen in spite of the summer solstice. She leaned against the kitchen counter looking sexy as hell with her hair covering one eye.

“I really should get going. You have to be up early for mini-camp tomorrow.” She didn’t say it with much enthusiasm. Shane knew it wouldn’t take much persuading for her to stay. Sliding his hands under her shirt, he wrapped them around her waist. At the same time, he nudged her with his hips so her back was against the stainless steel refrigerator. With two fingers, he pushed her hair to one side, giving him access to her neck.

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