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Jaclyn studied him like a lab experiment. “But your father knows you love him, and you know he’s proud of you. I’ve seen that each time I’ve had dinner with the two of you.”
“What’s your point?”
“You’re not as certain your mother knew how much you loved and appreciated her.”
DeMarcus marched across the kitchen. He slammed the thick glass into the sink. With his back to her, he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Why do you care why I took the head coaching job?”
“Because I care about you.” Jaclyn’s words eased the tension threatening to snap him in half. “And because I want to know you in and out of bed.”
He looked at her over his shoulder. She waited patiently in the corner of her silver and white kitchen wearing the same suit she’d worn the day she demanded his resignation. Their relationship definitely had taken a one-eighty.
DeMarcus leaned his hips against her sink and crossed his arms. “I thought I’d have time to show them how much I appreciated the sacrifices they’d made so that I could play in the NBA.” He stared at the marbled tile. “I bought them that house in Park Slope, convinced them to retire early so they could travel. I bought them vacation packages to Europe, Africa and the Caribbean.”
“I’m sure they appreciated that.”
“But I should have spent more time with them.” He faced her despite his shame. “When they were exploring Europe, I was playing in the All-Star game. When they were touring Africa, I was training for the Olympics. When they were sailing the Caribbean, I was working on my sports apparel deal.”
“Didn’t they want to see those games?”
“They were at the games. But I was too busy before and after to join them on their trips.”
“I’m sure your parents understood.”
“Mom was disappointed.” He went back to contemplating the tiles. “I’d always intended to come back to Brooklyn after I retired. Twelve, fifteen years tops. Then I’d spend more time with them. Start a family of my own. But I ran out of time. Mom had a heart attack. I was in Miami when she died.”
Jaclyn went to him and took his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
DeMarcus felt her fingers, long and slender, in his grip. “At the funeral, her friends and family were whispering about how much money and time she and Pop had spent on my basketball training. They’d tried to discourage them, but my parents wouldn’t listen. They believed in me.”
“And they were right.” Jaclyn’s tone was fierce. She sounded like she wanted punch the people who’d spoken those hurtful words.
DeMarcus lifted his hand to massage away her frown the way she’d soothed his forehead earlier. “I spent money on my parents instead of spending time with them.”
Jaclyn shook her head. “You weren’t with them every day, but you came home often. There were Mighty Guinn sightings in the paper every time you came back to Brooklyn.”
DeMarcus couldn’t return her smile. Criticism from family and friends during his mother’s funeral still plagued him. “Did she know how much I appreciated their faith in me?”
Jaclyn stepped into him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes.”
He frowned, wrapping his arms around her. He let her warmth take the edge off his fear. “How do you know?”
“Your father knows how much you appreciate them. Your mother must have known also.” Jaclyn raised her head and met his eyes. “But, if you’re still unsure, ask him.”
“I will.”
Jaclyn wasn’t feeding him platitudes. He saw the concern in her eyes. DeMarcus wasn’t used to women who wanted to get into his head as well as his pants. His former lovers had used his body like a well-muscled sex toy. They’d performed sex instead of making love. Having someone care about what he thought and how he felt was a turn-on—once he got past the initial discomfort.
He buried his hands in the vibrant curls tumbling around Jaclyn’s shoulders. “I’ve never shared that with anyone.” His words were a whisper.
Moved that such a strong man could be so vulnerable, Jaclyn kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear. “You should have.”
Sliding her hands under his jersey, Jaclyn felt the warmth of DeMarcus’s skin against her palms. The muscles in her arms trembled as she lifted the garment over his head.
DeMarcus pulled her into his arms and lowered his head to nuzzle her throat. “You’re the one who wants to get inside a person’s head. I prefer to act.”
Jaclyn caught her breath at the feel of his tongue against her skin. She leaned her head back to give him better access to her neck. “There’s a time and a place for everything.”
He chuckled low, the sound strumming the muscles in her abdomen. “What time is it now?”
