The First Move Page 20

  All those little conversations, his support and understanding about Ashley, dance lessons, listening to his past, hanging out with Sarah had been leading to this question. She would have turned down a date with this man, but could she turn down a relationship? Asked so clearly, the answer was easy.

  She put her hand over his. “Please come to dinner tomorrow night with Sarah. I want you to come. You can meet my mother, and be with me when I meet my daughter. I want you to be involved in all aspects of my life and I want Ashley to know I won’t hide or deny her any longer.”

  The remaining tightness in her throat cleared as the relief of making the right decision lifted her shoulders and straightened her back.

  Miles leaned in. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were bright and hopeful. Their future was in his eyes.

  She lifted her chin to meet his kiss. Their lips met tenderly, softly, but he ratcheted up the sensation when he took her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled. Her thighs tensed, this time with pleasure as she gave him both her emotions and her body. She cocked her head to the side, allowing him to nibble his way down her neck, his teeth burning marks in her skin. The only contact his body made with hers was with his lips, but she was so aware of him that she could count the number of atoms between her body and his.

  This was a man she could love.

  He pulled back, leaving her neck exposed and vulnerable. She righted her head and raised her brows at him. She opens her heart to him, he kisses her like that and then just pulls back? And, if movement in the corner of his mouth was any indication, he was about to smile at her, even as she scowled at him.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Wouldn’t go out on a date with me. Won’t admit you want to take me home to meet your mom, but you glower at me when I stop kissing you.” His smile was wide and full. Joyous.

  Her scowl deepened. Letting a man in so close was hard enough, without him gloating over his success.

  “Don’t look so upset. I have a good reason not to keep kissing you. Tonight is the Brislenn family fantasy football auction. Sarah will be here soon for our draft party.”

  “You misunderstand my scowl.”

  His answering smile was small, but lit up his eyes. “No, I didn’t.” He leaned over and pecked her on her lips, the contact awkward on her frown, though he only looked more pleased with himself when he pulled back. “You should play fantasy football with us.”

  “I should be meeting Ashley.” I should’ve gotten to meet her before my mom did.

  “Rey,” he said with seriousness in his eyes, “you want to meet your daughter. I get that and I want you to meet her, too. But you can’t do anything between now and tomorrow but freak yourself out about it. Stay here with me, relax and save your panic attack for later.”

  “And watch you pick fake football players for a fake team? No, thank you.”

  He crouched back on his heels, regarding her. “You can get your own team. I’ll even—” he took a deep breath “—help you get good players, even if they are players I wanted.”

  “I’m not a Brislenn. And I don’t know anything about football.”

  “You could be,” he said with his half-mocking serious smile before shaking the smile from his face. “I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment, just to the end of the football season. Sixteen Sundays as a Brislenn. You don’t even have to make it through the playoffs.”

  “The only position I know is quarterback.”

  “You don’t need to know anything.” He stood, pulling them both to their feet. “We’ll print off a cheat sheet for you, and you’ll be playing against Sarah and Mom. Plus some cousins. This isn’t a serious league—I play in a serious league with some college friends—it’s just for fun. Cathy was going to play again this year, but her wedding and honeymoon got in the way.”

  “You’re replacing Cathy with me?” She pulled away from him, and the uncomfortable thought that she was a woman in his life because that’s what he needed, even if he didn’t care who.

  To her surprise, he just laughed. “I won’t say I’ve loved you since I was fourteen, because what does a fourteen-year-old know about loving a woman, but you were the only woman I thought of between seeing you in English class and getting married.” There was the fleeting self-deprecation in his eyes she’d seen at the wedding, and hadn’t seen since. “I could never confuse you for Cathy.”

  “Are you confusing me with my teenaged self?”

  He moseyed up to her, trapping her against the wall. With a confident gleam in his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight to him. “You know what I love about you?”

  Love? she thought, but she only responded with a raised eyebrow, hoping the effort of lifting her brow would keep her from collapsing.

  “You don’t let anyone get away with anything.” When he kissed the curve of her jawline, the only thing keeping Renia upright was his arms tight around her waist. “No pussyfooting around with how I’m feeling. You come right out and ask.”

  She wanted to know if he meant love, or if it was just a word he was throwing around. She wanted to know how she had gone from wanting to turn Miles down for a date to caring if he said, and meant, love.

  “Stay.” His kisses moved up her jawline and his teeth gently bit her earlobe. “We’ll have a hot night,” he said, his voice low and breathy, and her insides tingled, “of drafting large men onto a fake football team, chaperoned by my teenaged daughter.”

  He was talking about one thing, and offering something else. This was not just the adult version of going steady; this was an invitation to join his family. A family where they accepted each other’s faults and learned how to live with them. This was bigger than her agreeing to want him to meet her mother.

  The thought scared the shit out of her.

  “Won’t Sarah be upset? It sounds like this is something you two do together.”

  “No. She likes you.”

  Renia didn’t doubt that Sarah liked her, just whether or not the teen wanted her father’s girlfriend to be included in a father/daughter activity. Renia forced the thoughts of what this night could mean back into the panicky depths of her mind. She didn’t know anything about having daughters, or having a boyfriend with a daughter. If she committed to Miles, she committed to Sarah, but it was only for sixteen Sundays.

  Would she leave Sarah, like she had left Ashley?

  She shook her head.

  “No, Sarah doesn’t like you?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

  No, she was being ridiculous about the fantasy football league. It was football, it wasn’t an engagement ring. He wasn’t asking her to be his wife, or Sarah’s stepmom. This wasn’t a lifetime commitment—till death do us part. This was a game. She wouldn’t refuse to play a game out of a reason as stupid as fear of the future.

  “That wasn’t what I was shaking my head at.” His eyebrows remained raised, like he knew what she was thinking. He always seemed to know what she was thinking. It was as if he could see right through her, and yet he never seemed to find her wanting.

  “If Sarah doesn’t mind, I’ll play.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  REGRET FLASHED ON Rey’s face the instant Cathy dropped Sarah off. His daughter’s first words after greeting Miles were, “Why’s she playing?”

  The full answer, that Rey needed a distraction from meeting Ashley tomorrow, wasn’t something Sarah needed to know. Instead, he said, “Sarah, Rey’s our guest.”r />
  His lovely, polite, teenaged daughter crossed her arms and looked at Rey. “Do you know anything about football?”

  Rey’s eyes darted to the front door, but she didn’t make a break for it. “I’ll learn.”

  Miles’s heart dropped to the floor with relief. Until he’d seen his daughter try to scare Rey away, he hadn’t realized how much tonight going smoothly meant to him.

  He loved Rey, there was no question about that, but he didn’t know how she felt about him. She liked him, turned to him when she had problems, seemed to want his company, but she still kept a level of distance between them that he couldn’t bridge.

  Smiling, charming, teasing, being serious, supporting—hell, he was willing to try anything—but even when she was relaxed, there was a part of her she kept closed up inside her. He didn’t want her to give up that part, but he wanted to know if that part of her would always be a roadblock to their future.

  No question, he was the marrying kind. He had liked being married to Cathy, even if they hadn’t shared a great love, and he wanted to marry Rey one day. But going through another divorce was too painful to think about. Marrying kind or not, he wanted Rey to be as sure about him as he was about her.

  Inviting her over to join their fantasy football league, a father-daughter activity Sarah cherished, had been a stupid idea. The whole night would scare Rey away for sure—especially with Sarah in evil teenager mode—but at least she wouldn’t be panicking over Ashley.

  “If you want to win, it’s not as easy as just picking players.” Sarah stood with her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised. “You have to know something about the game.”

  Just as he was about to intervene, Rey shot back. “I’ll just have to learn enough this year to win next year.”

  Sarah opened her mouth again, but Miles stopped her before more rudeness could come out. “Rey’s going to play. No more arguments. Sarah, go get the menu for Chinese and we’ll order takeout. Rey, make yourself at home while I print out a list of players to help you choose your team.”

  He trotted upstairs to get Rey a cheat sheet. On his way back, at the top of the stairs, he heard talking and stopped.

  “You’re not my mom.”

  His blunt girlfriend and his upset teen daughter. Miles looked at the list of players in his hand. Nowhere on the page was advice on whether he should stay at the top of the stairs and let them talk, or make as much noise as possible to save them both. Either option was cowardly.

  “Of course I’m not your mom.”

  “I don’t want you to think that because you’re having sex with my dad, you can give me advice or anything.”

  His foot hit the first stair, unsure if he was more worried about Rey or Sarah.

  “Do you want to talk about your dad’s sex life?”

  Sarah. He was more worried about Sarah—and himself. He stepped to the second step.

  “Gross. You didn’t have to say that.”

  “I’m not your mom—”

  “I know that.”

  “—I’m not even your stepmom.”

  If this was how Sarah was going to treat Rey, she might never be his daughter’s stepmom. An irritated teenager could scare away a coalition of superheroes.

  “Right now, I’m just your dad’s girlfriend. In the range of people who can—or would want to—give you advice, I’m down at the bottom.”

  “You already tried.”

  Rey gave a long exhalation audible from around a corner and up a flight of stairs. Ah, the joys of teenagers. Don’t give in to the argument, Rey. Don’t let her distract you.

  “Let’s make a deal. I won’t give you advice unless you ask for it, and you can be open to whatever kind of relationship daughters have with their fathers’ girlfriends. I don’t know what that looks like any better than you, but it doesn’t have to be bad. What kind of relationship do you have with Richard?”

  “He doesn’t try to play fantasy football.”

  Miles sat down on the steps. He was going to hear about this later, from both of them. Sarah would be mad he didn’t ask her first and Rey would be mad because he’d assured her Sarah wouldn’t mind. At least by that point, all their anger would be directed at him, rather than each other.

  “You can’t scare me away from your father, but I don’t have to play fantasy football this year. I can wait until next year, when Cathy can also play. Then maybe it won’t seem like I’m trying to replace your mother. But I’ll warn you, by then I won’t be so easy to beat.”

  Sarah mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

  “What?” Apparently, Rey hadn’t heard it, either.

  “We need an eighth team.”

  That’s my girl.

  “I don’t expect us to be friends, but we don’t have to be enemies.”

  That was probably as good of an accord as they were going to come to, and if he stayed away any longer, they’d know he was listening. Sarah would, anyway. She’d know it didn’t take that long to find a fantasy cheat sheet for Rey.

  He hopped merrily down the stairs, trying to make as much noise as possible, short of whistling. “Did everyone pick out what they want for dinner?”

  They responded with nearly identical glares and mumbled yeses.

  “Great.” The cheer in his voice wasn’t faked. They could glower and sulk all they wanted. Rey had said she’d be around next year.

  * * *

  “OKAY.” MILES pushed the Chinese food containers littering the coffee table to the side and set his laptop down. Rey and Sarah scooted out of the way so he could sit in the middle of the couch. “Everyone ready?”

  “As long as being ready means I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I’m ready.” Sarah had spent most of dinner making sure Rey was aware of just how little she knew about football. His daughter seemed to have forgotten that he’d had to talk her into playing this year. As little as a week ago, fantasy football had suddenly been too juvenile for her. He suspected a boy was responsible for her agreeing to play, but Rey was responsible for her renewed competitiveness.

  “So I can really just pick the players on this list and my team will be okay?” Rey held out the ranked list of players he’d given her.

  “Hold on...” Miles answered his phone and connected to the conference call with his mom and cousins. “Miles here.”

  “And Sarah.”

  “Miles—” his mom’s voice was always too loud when she spoke on her cell phone “—I still don’t think it’s fair for you to play two teams.”

  “I’ve got us an eighth team. Mom, meet Rey, Renia, Milek.”

  “Um, hi.” Rey glanced sideways at him, her eyebrows raised. Miles just shrugged.

  “This is how you’re introducing me to your girlfriend?” He could picture his mom’s hand on her hip from her summer home in Wisconsin. Sarah had looked just like her when trying to intimidate Rey.

  “Apparently. Besides, you met her at Cathy’s wedding. She was the photographer.”

  “Sarah, I expect you to tell me what’s going on.”

  “You can gossip later, Aunt Carol,” his cousin Sean interrupted. “The sitter has to leave by ten-thirty, so we don’t have much time.”

  “Carol, call me after you talk with Sarah to fill me in, especially if Miles is picking up chicks at his ex-wife’s wedding,” Sean’s wife Lisa chimed in. “Rey, welcome to the league. Miles and Sarah are the only competitive ones.”

  Sarah held her marked list of play
ers out to the phone. “Dad may be competitive, but it’s never gotten him a win.”

  Miles rolled his eyes. There was a collective laugh and he felt Rey relax next to him. “On the phone is my mom, Carol, my cousin Sean and his wife, Lisa, Sean’s brother, Eric, and his partner, David.”

  “Not claiming me as your cousin tonight?” Eric asked.

  “Not after you beat me last year.” Miles opened up enough windows on his laptop to easily manage three teams. “Sean and Lisa, you have to be patient enough for me to explain the rules to Rey. She hasn’t played before.”

  “Be speedy,” Sean replied. “No one wants us to finish the draft with Madeline crawling around the floor.”

  “Our daughter is in the handful stage of life.”

  Miles tapped Sarah on the foot. “If the handful stage ends, ever, I’ll let you know.”

  “Get your hits in early, Dad. By week five, I’ll be so far ahead of you that I won’t hear your taunts.”

  “Har, har.”

  “David here. Rey, just ignore all of them. I was in your position a couple years ago, only I was at least lucky enough to have met these jokers in person.”

  Miles looked at Rey seated next to him on the couch. Her eyes were bright, and there was no sign of the tears she’d had earlier and her face was flush with color. He slid his hand over to grab hers and squeezed. Her hand was warm as she squeezed back.

  “We do a snake draft. We each get randomly assigned a number, one through eight. One will pick a player first, then two, and so on until eight picks a player. In the next round, eight picks a player, then seven until it snakes back to one. We continue that until all our rosters are filled.”

  “What do I do with this?” Rey held out the list of players.

  “Next year,” he said, and repeating Rey’s own phrase felt great, “you can do what Sarah and I do and make your own list of players you want to draft. But this year, you can do what everyone else does. That list of players is ranked by ESPN. Just pick the top player available when your turn comes around. I’ll stop you before you draft only kickers.”