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The time was three hours ahead in Michigan, so she’d be in the middle of the workday, but she responded right away.
Headed to my dinner break. Please call me as soon as you get in. I hope your plane won’t be delayed because our weather is unpleasant. Miss you!
The second she sent the text, she cringed. It couldn’t be taken back. She wasn’t a warm, fuzzy person, and thatmiss youhad just slipped out. If that admission freaked him out, he might back off. But when he read it, his heart skipped a beat. Quickly answering her, he repeated it.
Miss you, too. I have a layover in Atlanta, so will text you from there. Hopefully I’ll be landing in Detroit by ten.
Taking her breath away, his answer was not expected; it had been a long time since Wendy Adams had had a boyfriend.
“Calm down, maniac,” she mumbled. “You’re moving too fast.”
Her modus operandi was to jump into bed too early, and giving in to lust had always fogged over the real issues a relationship might have. She’d discovered the negative stuff about a guy after they’d had sex, and it always made it that much harder to get away from it. The way to conquer that had been to avoid any interactions that were even slightly romantic. If she met someone who interested her, she backed off immediately. If it was meant to go anywhere, it would, but it never did, and she was spared the humiliation of having had sex with the guy.
So what was it with Oliver Saint? She’d never been attracted to any of the players she’d met. They were always at their worst when she was around, so it was easy to resist any flirtation until they were on their feet again, and usually they’d forgotten about her by then.
Oliver was different. Although he didn’t even remember her when she went to pick up Sadie, that day she’d felt an intense attraction to him that was more than sexual. His kindness about Sadie, the way he’d focused on Wendy, asking her to the game—it all meant something to her. She wanted to see him again.
The invitation to the Coach’s Breakfast was totally unexpected, reserved for family, and when he asked her to come, she knew something was going to happen between them. Then she’d allowed the fantasies of dating a professional football player. Every night she put herself to sleep imagining what it would be like to travel with him, or standing by when he was interviewed by the media, or even marriage.
She’d fantasized about living in one of those ridiculous McMansions other players lived in with their girlfriends or wives, the parties they gave that were over the top, featured in the nextPeoplemagazine or the eleven o’clock news with a police report. That didn’t appeal to her at all, and she couldn’t see Oliver in either situation.
No, he’d be the guy who would buy the piece-of-crap historic house in Downtown Detroit, pour his money and his soul into saving it, and soon fill it with his spawn.
She couldn’t go to the breakfast, but she said yes to the game. Observing the girlfriend was an eye-opener. This girl wasn’t vaguely interested, even though the boyfriend she’d had since tenth grade was playing in an important game. When he had the ball those last seconds, running to victory, his family were on their feet, screaming their lungs out. It wasn’t until he was knocked to the ground that the girlfriend managed to take her eyes off her phone.
“What happened? Did he make a touchdown?”
Everyone in their party turned to her, scowling.
Then later, in the hospital, Joanne’s hostility was palpable. It wasn’t the first time a family member wasn’t fully cooperative, but the good thing was that Wendy wasn’t Oliver’s nurse. She was there as a friend. Now, Joanne would hopefully be out of the picture completely, and not because he’d hurt her or betrayed her.
Just as she got home from work that night, her phone beeped with the text from Oliver—Just boarded. It’ll be too late to call tonight, so will talk to you in the morning. Have a good sleep!
As she got Sadie’s leash on for her nightly walk, she had a smile on her face. Snow fell, a hush over the city with the layer of white stuff muffling sound. She loved winter in Michigan. Her fantasy had taken her to the barren desert where her father lived with his wife in Nevada, or the bright lights of Las Vegas, where her mother lived, neither appealing to her.
And then to the oasis where Oliver had said he was from: a wealthy, gated enclave of snobbery. Charlie, his father, was a firefighter who had made a killing in the stock market. Where would Oliver live if he left the team? It was the bigif.
“You haven’t even had a date with the guy yet,” she said out loud. Sadie looked up at her, curious. “You like him, though, don’t you, girl?”
He was a dog person from way back. Another box ticked off. She’d arrogantly wondered if he was smart enough for her, but that was yet to be seen. He was college educated, but did his professors let him slide by just so he could play football?
Pushing through the snow, she wished she would have asked him to call her when he landed because she was ready to get to know him right away.
At nine thirty, Oliver’s flight landed in Detroit. He quickly got out his phone, eager to talk to Wendy even though he’d said he’d call the next day.
“Did I wake you?” he said when she answered with a “Hi!”
“Oh God no, I walked Sadie, and now we’re having a snack. Did you land?”
“I did, and I’ll be home in half an hour. Can I call you then?”
“Yes!”
She hoped he was going to ask to see her, as inappropriate as it was.
“Okay, talk to you soon,” he said. Not see you soon.It’s okay, Adams. Don’t rush it.
In spite of the pep talk, she ran around her apartment, straightening up. She cleaned the toilet and the shower, scoured the sink, and changed her sheets.
