Afternoon . . . Delight

Reggie

 

 

 

I FINISHED MY BREAKFAST, cleaned out the coffee pot, and tidied the kitchen after Calder had gone. The visitor’s pass rested next to the toaster, teasing me. I’d never been to one of Calder’s practices. That hadn’t been my place, not when Chris was alive.

It was hard to know when to stop mourning. When to start living.

I hoped I could show Calder the way while I found my path, too.

Those little glimpses of humor, the thoroughly hot male hunger, the dedication to the game so pronounced once again made me think perhaps we had a chance after all.

I showered—in his bathroom, impishly setting out my toiletries: shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, lotion, and makeup. All the girly things. Scents he’d recognize from my body.

I was ready to cross any line he put up, as long as I knew he wanted me one hundred percent.

After dressing in jeans, flannel shirt, boots, and a warm vest, I drove to the grocery store I’d passed on the way in yesterday. Realizing Calder had bought breakfast from the deli next door, I clocked the mileage. A mere ten-mile roundtrip run at the crack of dawn. No damn wonder his glutes were so mouthwatering. The smug man was right of course, there was no spare flesh anywhere on his body.

Except for what I expected was a very large cock.

I shuddered at the thought of finally seeing him naked sometime very, very soon.

At his house I unpacked the groceries, loading the cabinets, pantry, fridge, and freezer. Before leaving again, I primped for just a moment.

The orgasm after months of going without had done me good. My mouth was no longer drawn, my eyes brighter, my lips ripe as if I’d been kissed all night.

I navigated to the Carolina Crush practice grounds effortlessly, taking in some of the famous downtown Charleston scenery. The historic city dolled up for the Christmas season certainly was pretty as a southern picture. Full of charm and history just as Vegas was hot, flashy, and fluorescent.

I was let into the arena with just a glimpse at the pass he’d given me, but after parking I sat for a moment in the rental. I hadn’t intended to spy on Calder.

Completely unsure of myself—something I conquered regularly as a performer—I walked out of the facilities toward the field. Players huddled in various groups. Some threw strong-armed passes to receivers. Others folded down to one knee, listening to one of the coaches. Massive men drove training sleds across the turf, bodies rippling with power.

A Reno Ravens girl at heart, I could maybe change my stripes for Calder and Carolina Crush.

“Hey!”

I turned toward a woman—a gorgeous redhead who managed to look regal even in red and white workout gear—coming down the sideline.

“You’re . . . Regina? From Vegas, right?”

“Yes.” I held out my hand. “Peyton Fox?”

She shook my hand firmly. “Yes! We met at The Venetian. Calder told us you might stop by.”

I was hugely flattered to be greeted by the owner of Carolina Crush. As soon as she picked up Calder and hired him, I’d checked her out. Youngest owner in the history of the NFL, the only female holding the singular prestige, married just a couple weeks ago to the quarterback, she had some mighty big balls.

She leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Between you and me? He looked a little nervous about the prospect you might drop in. But I promised not to humiliate him in front of you.”

My belly fluttered at the thought Calder wanted to perform his best for me.

“I’m so glad he has family here finally. He’s been amazing. Keeping up with his NA meetings, solidly clean, and as you’ve no doubt seen, a star on the field. But he needs . . . an anchor.”

Before I could respond, Peyton grabbed my arm. She drew me along until we joined a small circle including a tall, extraordinarily gorgeous, Grace Jones lookalike.

“Regina this is my friend, Philomena. Dr. Phil for short, and yes, she really is a PhD and a total PITA.”

The black woman rolled her eyes. “Pain in yo ass? Please. I had to walk you kicking and screaming down that wedding aisle so you’d finally make an honest man out of Rafe.”

“You’re such a damn liar.” Peyton’s eyes narrowed but her smile grew. “She’s Coach D’s daughter so she gets a free pass to come ogle the eye candy whenever she wants.”

“And I’m talkin’ about the Cougars. Not the Crush,” Phil added.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”

“Well, aren’t you a sweet drink of water. Regina. The dancer from Vegas everyone’s been talkin’ about. Calder’s girl. Daaaamn. I knew he had some taste hiding somewhere.”

“I forgot to tell you Phil is all up in everyone’s business 24-7,” Peyton remarked dryly.

“Girl, you got hitched so I need to seek my thrills elsewhere.” Phil turned to me, dark brown eyes dancing. “And I happened to catch one of your shows. You need to show me some of those moves.”

“Anytime. I’m here for a week or so. Trying to talk Calder into going home for Christmas.” A dark emotion crossed my heart, and I saw it reflected in Peyton’s eyes.

She’d clearly been rooting for him, looking out for him.

“He’s over there.” Peyton pointed to the middle of the field.

Calder hunkered down low, balanced like a fulcrum, holding his weight in his core instead of his heels or the fingertips as he waited to make the all-important snap.

“You know, the new iPhone has amazing zoom on the camera.” Phil winked, nudging my shoulder.

“Oh, I’m not . . . I’m his sister-in-law. Or, I was.” For some reason, words tumbled from my mouth. “We were friends first though, Calder and me.”

“Divorced?” she asked.

“No. Widowed. His brother died. KIA.”

Without a word, Phil pulled my hand into hers. She nodded silently, just clasping my fingers.

“But there’s more than that between you and Calder now?”

“I haven’t . . . He’s just important to me. I’ve known him since forever . . . I just wanted to make sure he was doing okay out here.” I stumbled to a stop.

“Mm hmm.” Phil’s tone was kind.

Something wormed its way inexorably into my heart. A soft glow that spread to my extremities, to the hand Phil held although she’d met me mere minutes ago.

Peyton, who’d been silent during our exchange, suddenly gasped.

Both of us turned to her.

Her hand pressed to her mouth. Her face pale white, she raced away.

“Shouldn’t we go after her?” I asked. “Make sure she’s all right?”

“Trust me. Rafe will be over here in five seconds flat.”

“But—”

“Morning sickness. Psst.” Phil checked her watch. “At three o’clock. Heteros and the breeding compulsion.”

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“You playing for the pink team now?”

I raised a brow, delighted by her quick wit and charming unexpected flirtation. There’d been such a dearth of fun in my life. “Unfortunately not.”

“I know, I know.” She shook her head. “There’s my wishful thinking again.”

Rafe Macintyre stormed up, the famous NFL quarterback. “She sick again?”

“Yup. And it’s all your fault.”

He took off at a run after his wife.

“Told ya.” Phil grinned. “And this is only the first trimester. I been with her when the cankles happen. Still, since I’m honorary auntie to her kids, I’m here to hold her hand when Rafe isn’t.”

On the field, the Carolina Cougars broke from their practice, and I noticed one woman, in particular, saunter up to Calder as he scooped a sports drink from a cooler. The one who was handsy, who had gleaming coffee-toned skin and definite designs on Calder.

Oh, yes, I remembered her.

“If looks could kill. Mmm hmm.”

I tore my glare away from the pair farther down the sidelines. “What?”

“Girl, trust. I’ve been around long and often enough—to drool over the cheerleaders, the Cougars, and the Crush—to know Calder ain’t interested in that Raquel. Now, she’s a straight-up sweetie, but he hasn’t been up in that. And from what I’ve been hearin’ he only has his eyes set on one woman.”

As she said it, Calder’s gaze crossed the field, coming to a full stop on me.

Phil tugged my hand in hers. “C’mon. Meet and greet. One of the perks of being the head coach’s daughter.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh hell to the no with that,” Phil cajoled. “That man there has been performing better and harder just knowing you watched him.”

Harder.

Jesus.

Still, I wasn’t above taking my earrings off and getting in this Raquel’s face, though, to stake my claim.

I’d been there first.