Twenty-six
It was seven A.M. on Monday when Annabeth dialed Hank’s cell phone. They hadn’t spoken since the night she’d babysat Owen, and she prayed he’d at least answer her call. The Senate committee’s hearing was the next day, and she desperately needed Hank’s help to make things right.
“Annabeth.” As usual, Hank’s gravelly voice made her internal body temperature spike. “Is everything okay? “
“Yes. I mean no. Of course it isn’t.” She was dissembling when she needed to focus. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Not exactly the smartest question.
“No, I just got out of the shower.”
An image of a naked Hank popped into her head, and Annabeth had to gather her scattered wits. “Oh, well, good.”
Hank sighed. “Look, Annabeth, I’m sure you’re upset about this whole thing with Will, but he could have prevented it from coming to this. Obviously, the team wishes he’d cooperate because we’d prefer not to lose him to an indefinite suspension. But he’s being stubborn.”
Annabeth snorted. “Tell me about it. But that’s not why I’m calling you. Well, not exactly, anyway.” She heard rustling in the background, as if he were toweling himself dry. Annabeth fanned herself with the printed directions she had in her hand. “Remember when you said you’d like to take me places? To travel with me?”
The rustling stopped, and only Hank’s breathing could be heard through the phone.
“Well,” she continued, “I’d like you to take me somewhere. Today.”
“Today?”
“Yes, today.” She swallowed. “It has to be today.”
“Today,” he stated again, sounding a little as if he were trying to decipher something Sophie had said to him.
“It’s work related, if that helps.” She reminded herself that this was an ambush and to not take his impatience personally.
“Uh-huh.” He chuckled softly. “And what exotic destination do you have planned for us, Annabeth?”
She sat down on the flagstone porch, relieved he was taking her seriously. At least she hoped he was. “It’s not really all that exotic. Although it is called the Garden State.”
“New Jersey?” Hank choked out. “You want to go to New Jersey?”
She sighed. “I don’t want to go to New Jersey, Hank. I have to go.”
Hank slipped into military mode. “Annabeth, I think you’d better tell me what this is all about.”
“In the car. I’ll tell you everything when we’re on our way. Just hurry up and get dressed.”
Hank was silent for a long moment. “Where are you?” he finally asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
Annabeth crossed her fingers. “Outside. On your front porch.”
She heard the sound of feet clamoring down the stairs, and suddenly one of the ornate oak doors was being pulled open. Turning to face Hank, Annabeth had to bite her bottom lip to keep her mouth from falling open as her gaze traveled up a pair of bare feet and well-defined legs, to slim hips wrapped in nothing but a black towel. Hank’s sculpted abs and chest were bare, his fifty-year-old muscles rivaling anything she’d seen at the Ship’s Iron Gym. His hair was still damp; a dab of shaving cream lingered behind his left ear. He hadn’t even bothered to put his glasses on.
“Hi,” she managed to push out as her entire body sang with joy at the sight of him.
“Get in here,” Hank hissed.
Easier said than done—Annabeth’s knees had turned to Jell-O—but she managed to scramble off the porch and into his foyer. She placed her purse on the beautiful Chippendale table in the entryway, quickly calculating the amount of weight it could bear before sharply reminding herself that they needed to get to New Jersey right away. Spinning on her heel, she turned to find Hank leaning against the massive front doors, arms over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles. Apparently, he was not as affected by his near-nudity as she was.
“Look, Annabeth, if you came here about Will, I can’t help you . . .”
“I didn’t come here about Will.” She took two steps toward him. “New Jersey is about Will. I came here, to you, because you were right. Because I want to be more,” she whispered as she tentatively placed a hand on his heart. Immediately, his hand covered hers, cocooning it in the warmth of his skin. “I came here because I’m done hiding.”
Moving her body closer to his, she stretched up on her toes and kissed him. It was a sweet kiss, one in which she tried to apologize for the way she’d hurt him the other day. But Hank would have none of it. His hands went to her hair as he delved deeper into her mouth, their tongues sliding against one another. She moaned as his mouth left hers, finding its way to her sensitive neck.
“God, Annabeth, I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured against her skin. “I’ve missed you.”
She pulled his mouth back to hers and kissed him with a slow hunger that threatened to completely obliterate her plans. Somehow, the backs of her thighs had come in contact with the Chippendale table and her dress was now bunched up at her waist. Hank’s hands squeezed her bottom as he lifted her onto the table. When she wrapped a leg around him, her calf came in contact with his bare ass. Annabeth drew her hands over his sides, and then his back, reveling in the muscles bunched beneath her fingertips.
With a soft moan, she pulled out of the kiss. Hank rested his forehead on her shoulder as both of them struggled for breath.
“We can’t do this right now.” She traced her finger down his rib cage. “We have to go to New Jersey first.”
“The Jersey Turnpike will be a parking lot at this hour.” He stroked a thumb over her pebbled nipple.
“We have to. For Will.”
Hank let out a long-suffering groan in protest. She felt his erection jump between their bodies. He took a step back, reaching down to the floor to retrieve his towel.
“I’m not going to New Jersey for Will.” He tied the towel around his waist as Annabeth’s heart stopped in panic. “I’m going for you.”
She sucked in a relieved breath. “Thank you,” she whispered. “And if you still want me after what I have to do there . . .”
Hank closed the space between them, bracketing her face in his hands. “Annabeth, I’ve wanted you since long before the morning I saw you standing in my library.” He placed a tender kiss on one side of her mouth. “I’ve adored you since you first stuck up for Sophie.” Gently his lips brushed her mouth’s other corner. “I fell in love with you on a ferryboat. Nothing you can do could make me want you, adore you, or love you less.” He kissed her fully this time with the promise of wicked things to come later, while totally annihilating any brain cell activity Annabeth had left. When his mouth reluctantly left hers, her lips nearly whimpered in protest.
“But we’ll do it your way. We’ll go to New Jersey.” He pinned her with an arresting glance. “But afterward, you’re mine.”
Annabeth was grateful to be still sitting on the small table as she met Hank’s azure eyes, now blazing with passion. She gnawed on her bruised lip before nodding.
“Coffee’s in the kitchen. You’ll find the travel mugs in the cabinet. I’ll be ready to go in five minutes.”
Annabeth watched him disappear up the long staircase as she tried to calm her thundering heart. Her body felt slightly bereft and a little agitated that they hadn’t finished what they started. But she was still grappling with the heady concept that he loved her. Adjusting her dress as she slid off the table, she had trouble holding back her grin. Hank Osbourne loved her. Her. Annabeth Connelly. The thought made her giddy. She wandered to the kitchen for the promised coffee, thinking her day was starting off better than she hoped. Now all she needed was for the rest of it to go as well.
• • •
“Okay.” Hank slipped his cell phone into its charger. “The two NFL attorneys are going to meet us there. Since you’ve asked for witnesses, I assume you aren’t taking me to a mafia hit. Or are you, Annabeth?”
She laughed at him. They’d ended up taking Hank’s car, a sleek little Audi that slipped easily through the rush hour traffic. Hank drove like he did everything else, with authority. Annabeth curled up on the leather seat, her legs tucked beneath her, her torso turned to face Hank’s profile.
“Nothing that nefarious. Although I can’t rule anything out.”
“Just tell me this, are we expected?”
“No. I’m counting on the element of surprise.”
Hank took Exit 18W toward Fort Lee. They traveled through the center of town before finally entering a suburban neighborhood of tree-lined streets and quaint Craftsman houses. He parked along the curb across from their destination, the car purring to a halt as he killed the engine. Leaning his head against the headrest, Hank took a swallow of his coffee.
“This is Coach Zevalos’s house,” he said without preamble.
Annabeth tried to hide her surprise. “You’ve been here?”
Hank turned his head to face her. “Of course I have. When the whispers started to include Will’s name, I came here to try to make sense of all of it. Will wouldn’t talk to me, so I tried to get Zevalos to tell me. Obviously, I wasn’t successful.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t have the right incentive to make him talk.” She undid a button on the bodice of her sundress.
Hank sat up in his seat. “What the hell are you planning on doing here, Annabeth?”
She made note of the fact that the tops of Hank’s ears got red when he was angry. Or jealous, whichever the case might be. Annabeth pressed a hand to his chest. “Relax. He wouldn’t talk to you because you wear pants. Trust me. He’ll talk to me.” She leaned across the console and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see.”
A blue American-made sedan pulled up and parked behind them.
“Ah, the cavalry has arrived,” Annabeth said as she grabbed her purse and hopped out of the car.
Standing on the sidewalk outside Coach Zevalos’s house, Hank made the introductions, but Annabeth wasn’t paying attention. There wasn’t time to waste if she was going to preserve her son’s name. Smoothing down the skirt to her dress, she marched past the pots of carefully planted zinnias and geraniums up the concrete steps. The door opened before she knocked, startling her.
“Mrs. Connelly?”
Annabeth had met Marie Zevalos several times during the years Will had played at Yale. In her late sixties, the woman was a throwback to the housewives of the mid-1900s, treating her husband with deference, acquiescing to his every whim. With her big, overbleached hair and round body, she was the perfect foil to the arrogant, macho coach whose ego knew no bounds.
“It’s Miss Connelly,” Hank clarified from where he stood beside her.
Annabeth brought her elbow back, slightly making contact with his ribs. He took the hint and stepped back, the message received that she was running the show.
“Mrs. Zevalos, how nice to see you again,” Annabeth began. “I believe you’ve already met Mr. Osbourne?”
Marie broke out into a bright smile at the sight of Hank before her face registered her confusion. “Yes, he came to visit Paul a few weeks ago. But Paul told him not to come back.”
“We’re actually here to see you, Mrs. Zevalos.” Annabeth answered with a grin of her own, hoping that behind her, Hank was treating the woman to one of his more charming smiles.
“Oh . . . well . . . I can’t imagine what you want with me.” Flustered, Marie stepped back from the doorway.
Not wasting the opportunity, Annabeth stepped across the threshold. “I wanted to speak with you, woman-to-woman,” she said, letting her voice carry throughout the small house.
“Oh!” Marie wrung her hands as the three men behind Annabeth crowded into the foyer.
“This will only take a minute,” Annabeth reassured her. The last thing she needed was a panicked Marie Zevalos. Her plan wouldn’t work if the woman collapsed on the floor. Gently taking the woman’s elbow, she steered her toward the airy kitchen at the back of the house. “We have so much to catch up on,” she said loudly.
A spasm of coughing from a nearby room grabbed Marie’s attention.
“Marie!”
Annabeth’s knees nearly buckled with relief at the sound of the raspy bellow. Coach Zevalos had heard her, just as she’d planned.
“Oh!” Marie reached for a tray with a can of ginger ale and an empty glass on it. “Just let me give this to Paul and we can have some tea.”
“Tea would be lovely. And please tell Coach Zevalos I said hello.” Annabeth poured on the saccharin.
As soon as Marie disappeared with the tray, Hank gestured for the two league representatives to sit on the sofa in the living room. He turned to Annabeth, a sly smile on his face. “Well played,” he mouthed.
She beamed under his praise but silently worried what he’d think of her after the second act. Marie shuffled back to the kitchen, flustered once again.
“Paul said he’d like to see you. Right now. Before we have tea.” The poor woman clearly didn’t like the idea of anyone upsetting her ill husband, and Annabeth wondered what it was like to love someone so blindly.
“Sure, but I’ll only keep him a minute. Then we girls can chat.” She patted Marie’s shoulder. “Mr. Osbourne is going to go with me to apologize for upsetting Coach during his last visit.”
Before Marie could protest, Annabeth grabbed Hank’s hand, towing him behind her as she made her way into the small sitting room where Coach Zevalos was holed up. The sight before her nearly stole the wind from her sails. The man in the oversized recliner looked nothing like the one she’d met thirteen years ago. Coach Zevalos was now a haggard shell of himself, lung cancer from his pack-a-day habit diminishing what had been a tall, robust, athletically built man. His ashen skin sagged at his jowls and his once-haughty dark eyes were now just angry; whether it was from the sight of her or the fact that his time on this earth was short, she wasn’t sure. Nor did she care.
When he spied Hank, his eyes grew wide and he grabbed the mask from the portable oxygen tank beside him. “Get out!” he gasped, pointing at Hank.
“He stays.”
Annabeth’s tone forced the coach to pull several puffs on his oxygen.
“What do you want?” he asked around the mask.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “For you to do the right thing.”
He wheezed into the mask. A television droned quietly behind her and the cloying smell of sickness teased her nostrils. Annabeth felt a swell of nausea roll through her stomach, but she willed it down. This had to be done.
“I told him,” he gasped, leveling a finger at Hank. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
“Fine.” Annabeth held her ground. “If you won’t talk, I will.”
The coach struggled in the chair, but it was no use. He no longer had the strength to stand and intimidate her with his dominance. He took another frustrated pull of oxygen.
“I’ll tell your wife about the day you came to the trailer park to discuss Will’s college potential privately with me. And when I refused your disgusting requirements for the advancement of my son’s career, you found another willing participant in the trailer next door.”
Her hands were trembling. She felt Hank’s body draw up to full alertness beside her.
“I took what she offered!” he spat out. “I had no idea how old she was.”
“She was fifteen!” Annabeth cried. “With the body of a twenty-five-year-old and the morals of an alley cat. But that didn’t mean you were allowed to touch her. “
“Jesus,” she heard Hank whisper.
“Someone should have been watching her,” the coach wheezed before a coughing spasm overtook him.
He was right; someone should have been watching over Bethany, but her mother worked two jobs and her father had been a long-haul truck driver. The teen was left on her own more than she should have been, wandering the trailer park looking for anyone who’d pay attention to her. She probably thought a man like Paul Zevalos was her ticket out.
Annabeth’s knees were shaking now. She felt Hank take a step closer, his warm hand settling on the small of her back. He was breathing forcefully beside her as if it were taking all the strength he had to contain himself.
His coughing subsided, the coach narrowed his eyes at her. “Why bring this up now? Will got his scholarship. I even hooked him up in the pros.”
She swayed slightly in shock, but Hank’s steady hand propped her up. Annabeth had long suspected that her rebuff of the coach all those years ago might have cost her son his scholarship had she not caught the man coming out of Bethany’s trailer later that day. But to hear him confirm that made her sick to her stomach.
“Except now you’re letting him take the fall for you,” she said, amazed her voice sounded so steady.
“I’m a dying man. He owes me.”
“You’re not worth him destroying his good name.”
“He took the money.”
“He didn’t know what it was for and he tried to return it!” she shot back.
He coughed again before taking another puff of oxygen. “It’s too late to erase the past.”
Annabeth stiffened her spine. “Yes, and it’s too late to erase your past.” She pulled a photo out of her purse, flipping it onto the coach’s blanketed lap.
He wheezed uncontrollably, sucking on the oxygen mask as he caught sight of the picture.
“Imagine my surprise when the Taylors moved in the dead of the night two months later. Or when I encountered Bethany in a shopping mall in Wilmington a few months after that, her belly swollen with pregnancy.”
Hank let out a hiss beside her, his fingertips curling into her back as he fought for self-restraint.
“Tell me this, Coach,” Annabeth asked. “Does your wife know about your son? I met him the other day. He’s quite a boy, as you can see by the photo.”
The coach was gasping heavily now, dragging air through the mask in deep draughts.
“Of course she doesn’t know,” Hank said from behind her. “He’d just as soon wait until he dies for her to find out. Because he’s a coward. An honest man, a real man, would own up to his sins before he goes. But this man doesn’t have the guts to deal with the mess he’s made.”
A gurgling sound came through the oxygen mask, where the coach’s tears mixed with the air his body so desperately needed.
“I didn’t know she was a child,” he croaked out. “I made amends to that family and to the boy. I never laid a hand on a woman other than my wife again.”
She snorted at his confession. Whether she believed him or not was irrelevant. The damage was already done.
“What more do you want from me?” he pleaded.
“I told you. For you to do the right thing,” she repeated.
The three were silent for several moments as the coach used the oxygen to regulate his breathing.
Coach Zevalos broke the silence. “Fine. If you’ll leave the boy out of this, I’ll call my lawyers and make a statement.”
“We conveniently have two NFL counsel here with us,” Hank told him in a matter-of-fact tone.
Another coughing fit followed. “You . . . you don’t expect me to do it today?” he gasped.
Annabeth lunged at him. “Yes! You’ll do it now! Today!”
“Annabeth!” Hank grabbed her arm, but she shook him off.
“For thirteen years, I’ve lived with the guilt of what you did. I was the reason you came to Seaside Vista in the first place. I was the reason a lecherous man had sex with an underage girl. How do you think that’s felt all these years? God! I should have spoken up sooner, but I didn’t. This isn’t going on one day longer. You’re going to tell them the truth about your stupid bounty scheme before more people get hurt.”
She felt Hank’s arm wrapped around her waist, gently pulling her back as the coach dissolved into another round of wheezing.
“Shh,” Hank whispered to her. “It’s over now.”
Annabeth gulped in a few deep breaths of her own as she pulled out of Hank’s restraint. She anxiously smoothed down her skirt and swiped at her tears. Hank patiently stood by her side, giving her space as she regained her composure.
“Okay?” he asked, his gentle voice restoring her courage.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, she gave him a quick nod. He winked at her, nearly making her come undone.
“I’ll go get our friends.” He eyed the coach directly before striding from the room.
The coach’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he sat in his chair belligerently silent.
“You know what the worst part is?” Annabeth wrapped her arms around herself. “Will worshipped you. And I let him.”
Tears streamed down her face again as the league representatives sheepishly entered the room, one of them setting up a video camera.
“Come on.” Hank quietly ushered her down the hall and out into the backyard. Annabeth took fortifying breaths of fresh air as she brushed the tears off her face. Coming up behind her, Hank wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his body.
“Shh.” His warm breath was comforting on her neck. “It’s over. You did it.”
She turned in his arms, burying her face in his chest. “Yeah, it only took me thirteen years.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Hank put his hands on her shoulders, putting an arm’s-length distance between them. “This was not your fault. The man in there would have found someone else to prey on if he hadn’t found that girl. Trust me on this, Annabeth, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t report it.”
“From the looks of it, the girl’s family didn’t report it, either. Obviously, they found out who the father was. If they wanted to charge him, they could have.”
“They took his money instead.” Annabeth had been disgusted when she met with Bethany’s parents the other day. Coach Zevalos had been a gravy train for the struggling family. Marie Zevalos would likely not see the money she expected when her husband died. Sadly, she’d probably never know why.
“Annabeth, look at me,” Hank commanded.
She lifted her gaze to meet his concerned one.
“From this moment on, you are not to blame yourself for this. Do you hear me?”
She wanted to, but she still carried so much guilt. “I let Will go play for him,” she whispered through her tears. “He was so excited to go to Yale and take advantage of all the opportunities it would provide. I couldn’t tell him. I let my son go off with that creep so he’d have a chance at his dream. A career. A life outside of Chances Inlet. He looked up to the man. He was always so distrusting of people, men in particular. I didn’t want to shatter his illusions. I’m a terrible mother. “
Hank pulled her in against his body, holding her while she cried. “You did what you had to do. The best you could. No one is blaming you.” She felt his lips brush the top of her head.
“I’m sorry for all this.” Her words were smothered against his chest.
Reaching a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her damp face up. “We already covered this back in Baltimore. Don’t apologize for being a good mother to your son.”
“But I dragged you to this horrible interview . . .”
Hank stepped out of their embrace and her body nearly went limp without his warmth. He pointed to the house.
“That? Are you kidding, Annabeth? I wouldn’t have missed that performance for all the money in the world. You were brilliant! My God, generals on the battlefield would weep at the magnificence of your strategy.” He wrapped her in his arms again, pulling her body flush with his. “And, if I’m being honest here, I’ve never been more turned on in my life.”
Laughing through her tears, she tossed her head back, giving Hank better access to her neck.
“And now.” He kissed his way along her collarbone. “Per our agreement earlier this morning, you’re mine. Prepare yourself, Annabeth Connelly, because we may not make it back to Baltimore. In fact, I know a place in Atlantic City that has big, comfy beds and an amazing shower.”
His mouth found hers in a searing kiss. Annabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself relax into his body. She could not have gotten through today without Hank. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to go through any more days without him.
His cell phone vibrated at his waist. He muttered a few choice words as he pulled the phone out. “It could be the office,” he explained as he checked the screen. “Nope, just Sophie.” He began to return the phone to his belt.
“Sophie!” she squealed, grapping the phone and hitting the talk button. “Hi, Soph!”
“Annabeth? Hi,” Sophie gushed over the phone. “Ohmigosh, it’s so good to talk to you. We just boarded the cruise ship and it’s soooo cool. Well, except for the twins jumping from their bunks. Be quiet, guys!”
Annabeth could hear the joyous shouts of the two boys in the background.
“Arghhh,” Sophie groaned. “Hey, so why are you answering my dad’s phone? Everything’s okay, right? Is he there? Ohmigosh, are you guys together somewhere?” Sophie’s voice rose an octave as she began to put two and two together. Thankfully, she couldn’t see her father’s hand kneading Annabeth’s bottom while his mouth made a beeline for her breasts.
“He’s right here,” Annabeth breathed, her pulse ricocheting.
The look Hank gave her promised retribution in the near future, and her body throbbed happily with anticipation.
“Hey, Soph.”
“Wow, Dad!” In her excitement, Sophie spoke loud enough for Annabeth to hear. “What’s happening between you and Annabeth?”
“Nothing if you keep interrupting us.” Hank winked at her.
“Hank!” Annabeth mouthed.
“Wow, Dad, this is so cool. I was gonna tell you all about the ship, but this is so much better.”
“I’ll call you tonight and you can tell us both all about your trip.”
“Ohmigosh, I’ve got to tell Mom!”
“Sophie Claire, do not share my personal life with your mother!”
“Sure thing, Dad. You two have a nice day! Bye!”
They both could hear her screaming for her mother as she hung up the phone.
Hank swore. “Now we’ll have the two of them badgering us all day.”
Annabeth grabbed the lapels of his suit and pulled him flush against her body. “Tell me more about this amazing shower. I’m pretty sure we won’t be able to hear the phone in there.”
He framed her face with both hands. “Annabeth Connelly, have I told you lately how smart you are?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead kissing her with all the promise of an exciting life ahead.