Blindsided (Fair Catch Series, Book Three) Page 10

  Had she done something wrong? Frantically searching her memory, she couldn’t recall anything that would have made him angry at her. Wondering if Simone had made something up, she didn’t let her gaze waver from his.

  Without warning, he cupped her face in his hands, and as his mouth descended toward hers, she gasped, her pulse skyrocketing. A split second later, his lips claimed hers. Too stunned to react, too disbelieving that he was kissing her, and with such passion, Mari froze, but after several seconds her body took over and her arms wound around his neck as she sank against him.

  Hank hadn’t meant to kiss Mari. He’d meant to come in and tell her there could never be anything between them, that the stakes were too high, that it wasn’t worth it. But when he’d seen her standing there, looking so vulnerable, so sweet and untouched, all of his logic had gone out the window.

  Now, as he held her in his arms, his lips devouring hers, her warm body melting against his, he was glad he’d followed his instincts. She fit into his arms perfectly, like she’d been made for him, and as her uniquely Marigold scent surrounded him, he savored this moment, memorizing the feel of her, the taste of her, the sound of the soft moan coming from her throat, everything about her, because as much as he liked this—loved it!—his logical side soon took over and screamed at him that this attraction he had for her wasn’t worth the risk of having his Harper yanked away from him.

  After another moment, he released her.

  Stepping back, he studied her face.

  Eyes wide, she stared right back.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. It was going to make this so much harder. For both of them.

  “What’s going on?” she asked when he failed to speak. “Why was Simone here?”

  Glad for the opening, he sighed as he shook his head. “She called London.”

  Mari’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why?”

  He took her by the hand and led her to the couch tucked along one wall where they sat side by side. Then he laid it all out, told her exactly what Simone had said.

  The power of Hank’s sudden and passionate kiss lingered on Mari’s lips, but as she digested what he was telling her, the lovely sensations she’d felt faded, replaced by worry, and finally, by despair.

  “So,” he began, “we need to put aside this attraction. It’s not worth the risk.” Frowning deeply, he added, “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry.”

  She wasn’t. Not really. Although she could see his point.

  “How do you know she actually talked to London?” Mari asked. “She could have just said that to…you know…control you.” Although after the way London had warned Mari the other night, she knew it didn’t really matter whether or not Simone had talked to her. Even if she hadn’t, nothing was stopping Simone from reaching out to London. And if she and Hank pursued this attraction, it would only be a matter of time before it all came crashing down around them, with Harper left in the rubble. That was unacceptable. Harper was the innocent party here. They had to put her needs before their own.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he said. “But I’m not willing to take the chance.” His face softened. “Not if it means I lose Harper or Harper loses you. She already lost her last nanny, and I can see how much she adores you.” He shook his head. “We have to be the adults here.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “We can keep this platonic.”

  He was right. Of course he was. She just wished there was some other way, because that kiss… It had set her on fire. And she didn’t know if it was a fire she’d be able to quench.

  Was he asking too much? Of both of them? When he saw her each day, when he interacted with her, would he be able to forget that kiss? No. There was no way. Which made him all the more angry at himself. If he’d never kissed her, maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. But it was out there, it had happened. He couldn’t take it back, couldn’t change it. So he needed to turn his mind in another direction, channel his energy another way. To football. That had always been his saving grace. He would work that much harder.

  The Vipers had won their first game, but they would have a tough game on Sunday against the Salt Lake City Raptors.

  “So,” Mari said. “What now?”

  Only a few inches separated them on the couch, and he was tempted, oh so tempted, to pull her onto his lap for another kiss. A final kiss. He even shifted his body, ready to lift her, but he held back. He had to exhibit self-control now. Right now.

  “We go on,” he said. “Just like before. You take care of Harper, and I play football and be her father.” He swallowed over the knot in his throat, the one that said he hated being forced to do something he didn’t want to, but that he would do it anyway. “And we move on.” Forcing a laugh, he added, “Soon enough you’ll be going back to LA with Harper, so what would the point have been anyway?”

  Mari looked at her lap, then she met his gaze with a smile he could tell was forced. “Right. Exactly. There are lots of other people out there. People who are more appropriate. Right?”

  Gritting his teeth, he nodded and grunted his agreement, but the idea of some other man making a move on Mari, holding her, kissing her, made him clench his fists and he wished he was on the field at that very moment. He’d take down whomever was in front of him. Hard.

  Was it so easy for Hank to shut off his feelings, his desire? Because inside, Mari was dying. The beginning of their fledgling relationship had ended before it had ever had a chance to begin. Frustration plowed through her, but she’d made a choice, had decided that she was willing to make this sacrifice for Harper. In the last few weeks Harper had wedged her way right into Mari’s heart, and she would never do anything to hurt her.

  Besides, even if she was willing, who was to say there would be a future for her and Hank? Just because they had this initial draw towards each other didn’t mean a relationship between them would last.

  It was better this way. They would be friends with a common goal—raising Harper to be healthy and happy. What could be better than that?

  “I’ll, uh,” Hank began. “I’ll leave you to your painting.” He stood. “Tomorrow’s my day off, so after I go in for a workout, I’ll come home and have lunch with you and Harper, but then I’ll be studying game film for most of the afternoon.”

  “Okay.”

  A small smile tugged at his lips. “Good-night.”

  “Good-night.”

  She watched him leave, then walked over to her easel. She’d lost all desire to paint that night, so she cleaned up, then went to bed, wondering how she was going to stand seeing him everyday without being able to touch him. Especially with the memory of that kiss scorching her soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Daddy’s home!” Harper called out the next day as she and Mari sat in front of the coffee table playing a game of Candy Land. Harper leapt to her feet and ran to Hank, throwing her arms around his legs before he picked her up.

  Mari stood, her heart pounding, and when he looked her way, the memory of the kiss they’d shared the night before threaded through her, filling her with pure joy that was quickly followed by the depths of despair.

  “Looks like you’re playing Candy Land,” he said to Harper as he set her down.

  “Yes.” She slid her hand into his. “Come play with us.”

  Harper tugged Hank forward, and as he walked into the family room, his gaze was on Mari. Throughout his workout that morning his mind had continually gone to her, wondering how she was doing, if she was thinking about him, if she’d been able to put aside her feelings. Because he hadn’t. The more he tried, the more he wanted her. Maybe it had something to do with her being out of reach, but he didn’t think so. He found her alluring, lovely, sweet, talented…wonderful.

  Why did things have to be so complicated?

  As he approached her, she kept her eyes on him, never once looking away, almost like she was challenging him—or maybe herself—to hold herself steady despite all that had happened, all that had changed, since the d
ay before.

  He was the first to break their stare, looking at the game board on the coffee table. “Looks like you’re in the middle of a game.”

  “We can start over,” Mari said, and Hank looked at her sharply. Was there a double meaning there?

  No. That didn’t make sense. They’d already agreed to start over, to just be friends. Even after their heated kiss.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “You sit there, Daddy,” Harper directed, pointing to the floor in front of the end of the coffee table. Harper and Mari sat across from each other, Harper to his left and Mari to his right. He would have preferred to sit beside Mari, but after he’d told her they had to put aside their feelings, he couldn’t contradict that so soon.

  “I’ll be the red guy,” Harper said as Mari shuffled the cards.

  They began the game, Hank acutely aware of Mari and everything about her—her smile when Harper said something cute, the bit of paint under one of her fingernails, the strands of hair that he wanted to tuck behind her ear. But what captured his attention the most was the fullness of her lips, how smooth they were, how kissable. Knowing firsthand how those lips felt when they were pressed against his, Hank had trouble tearing his gaze away, trouble restraining himself from reaching over and dragging her against him.

  “It’s your turn, Hank,” Mari said, her voice soft.

  He lifted his gaze from her mouth, and when their eyes met, he could see that she was remembering their kiss too. And he knew she had enjoyed it every bit as much as he had.

  This was torture. How was she supposed to live like this? How could she sit there so calmly, mere inches away from him, the memory of being held in his arms still so fresh, and be expected to act like he meant nothing to her?

  It was impossible.

  Especially when she could see her feelings reflected in his eyes.

  Not even trying to force her desires away, instead, as she watched him draw his card and move his game piece, she let her wanting of him soak into her bones and fill her up. Why fight it? It was no use anyway. She was falling for him and falling hard. Fighting it only made her more miserable. Instead, she would embrace it.

  It wouldn’t change anything between them—she’d agreed they couldn’t act on their feelings and she would stick by that—but at the same time, she wouldn’t suppress her feelings, her desires. She would just let them be.

  “I win,” Harper called out a few minutes later.

  “Yes, you did,” Hank said. “Good job.”

  “Lunch is ready,” Mrs. Stillman said as she entered the room.

  “Thank you,” Hank said, then he stood and held out his hand to Mari.

  Mari looked at his hand, her pulse fluttering, then she met his gaze. It was intense, focused solely on her.

  Hesitating for only a moment, she placed her hand in his. The instant they touched, fire ignited inside her, racing up her arm, burning her deep inside. Still, she didn’t pull away, didn’t break their touch. Instead, she gripped his hand as he helped her stand.

  Harper scampered after Mrs. Stillman, headed toward the outside dining area. They were alone. At least for the moment.

  Inches of space separated them, but the chasm between what they wanted and what was possible was as difficult to bridge as the Grand Canyon.

  “Marigold,” Hank murmured, his hand still holding hers.

  The scratchiness in his voice left no doubt that he was struggling with this as much as she was.

  She met his gaze as she stood in front of him, her heart pounding with a yearning for what she couldn’t have. He stared down at her and it was as if her whole body was reaching for him, begging him to draw her into his arms, to kiss her again.

  But he didn’t.

  He blinked once, slowly, then he released her hand.

  Sighing audibly, he lifted his gaze toward the French doors, then he looked at her.

  Waiting for him to say something—anything—Mari nearly held her breath.

  “Lunch is ready,” he said, then with a tight smile he turned and walked away.

  Mari stared after him, her heart collapsing in on itself.

  He was going to stick with this. He really was.

  Why did that surprise her? To get where he was, he’d achieved a level of discipline that very few could equal. Keeping their relationship platonic had to be much easier than what he’d surely had to deny himself throughout his life to become the world-class athlete that he was.

  Mari only hoped she could do the same.

  Hank was struggling. Throughout his life he’d had to forego many things to reach the achievement of being one of the best running backs in the NFL. But having to walk away from Mari when he wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and kiss her like it was the last time he’d see her…

  He opened the French door, his ears attuned to her footsteps behind him, and when he heard her coming, he paused and held the door for her. She passed him, her floral scent following in her wake, wrapping around him.

  Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, then he opened his eyes, exhaled, and strode to the dining area where Harper was already in her seat. Mari sat beside Harper, and he sat at the head of the table, near Harper.

  As they ate—shredded chicken wraps and a salad—Hank asked Harper what she was going to do after lunch.

  “Swimming!” Grinning, she looked at Mari.

  Following Harper’s gaze, he saw Mari smile at Harper, then reach out and tuck a loose strand of Harper’s long blonde hair behind her ear. Though he continued watching Mari, she refused to look at him, so he turned his attention to Harper. “That sounds like fun.”

  “I can swim, Daddy, but I still wear my floaties.”

  “That’s because they keep you safe.”

  “I know.” Her voice was serious as she speared a piece of chicken. “When I’m bigger I won’t have to wear floaties. Mari doesn’t have to wear floaties.”

  Hank laughed. “That’s right. And you’re growing so fast, I can hardly believe it. Pretty soon you’ll be as big as Mari.” When he looked her way, she lifted her eyes to him, but immediately turned her attention back to Harper.

  “You can practice your kicks,” she said.

  “I can hold my breath for fifteen,” Harper said with a nod.

  “Fifteen seconds?” Hank asked.

  She nodded.

  “Wow! That’s amazing.”

  They finished eating, and when Hank stood to leave, he realized he and Mari hadn’t exchanged a single word.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Mari’s phone notified her that London was initiating a FaceTime session, she nearly told Harper. But it was only three o’clock. That wasn’t when London typically spoke to Harper.

  This call was for her. She was sure of it.

  Glancing toward Harper, who was sprawled out on the floor of the art studio on her stomach, a red crayon in her hand as she colored in her favorite princess coloring book, Mari accepted the call.

  “Hello,” Mari said as she sat on the couch, the same couch she’d sat on the night before when Hank had told her there could be nothing between them. Shoving down that memory, she focused on London, whose face filled the screen of her phone.

  “How are you?” London asked. “How’s Harper?”

  Mari glanced toward Harper, who was focused on coloring. “We’re great. We just finished swimming a bit ago, and now we’re doing some artwork.”

  “Great.”

  “Is…everything okay?”

  London sighed. “You tell me, Mari.”

  Uh-oh. Her eyebrows bunched as she forced a look of puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

  “Yesterday evening I received a call from a woman named Simone.”

  So, Simone really had spoken to London. Not good. Mari cocked her head. “Simone? The woman Hank’s dating?”

  London’s eyebrows went up. “Yes.”

  “What did she want?”

  London’s lips compressed for a moment. “She
told me some strange things about you, Mari, but I know you, so I wanted to talk to you about it.”

  “Okay.” Mari dragged the word out. She could do this. She could play the confused, innocent party. She just had to believe that Simone was a crazy woman who would make things up about her. For all she knew, Simone had made things up about her. If Mari believed it, she could convince London as well. “What did she tell you?”

  “Now, I know my ex-husband is a good-looking man…”

  Mari lowered her eyebrows, like this was a ridiculous thing to say, like the way Hank looked was something she’d never noticed.

  “Anyway,” London said. “This Simone woman seems to think you’re becoming…shall we say…enamored…of Hank.”

  Mari’s heart did a kind of ka-thump. Because she was beyond enamored of Hank. So beyond. Reaching down to her thigh, she pinched it as hard as she could, nearly bringing tears to her eyes. Better to have tears shimmering in her eyes than to have her true feelings for Hank shining from them.

  “What?” Mari said, putting as much fury into her voice as she could muster. Then she glanced at Harper, who was ignoring Mari and her conversation. Still, she lowered her voice. “That’s insane, London.”

  London was a good actress. Would she recognize that Mari was putting on an act?

  London frowned. “I’m glad to hear that, Mari, because I really don’t have time to deal with this right now.”

  “There’s nothing to deal with,” Mari said. “I can promise you that.” And it was true, even though she wished it were different. She dropped her chin a bit as she focused on the screen. “I’ve met this woman. Simone? She’s kind of…” Mari grimaced. “Crazy. You know?”

  London frowned. “Hank always did attract all kinds.”

  Forcing a smile, Mari shook her head. “Well, he attracted a doozy in this one.”