Read Line of Scrimmage Online

Authors: Marie Force

Line of Scrimmage (15 page)

He kissed her cheek and was unfazed when she turned her face away. “I never said you were weak or spineless. I never said
that, Susannah. Everything will be fine after Monday. You’ll see. Once you get rid of him you’ll get your perspective back.
I’ll pick you up at seven on Sunday for the ball.” With a quick kiss to her forehead, he was gone.

Susannah trembled and wrapped her arms around herself as protection against a sudden chill.

Ryan came into the room, led her to the sofa, and brought her down to his lap. He held her until the trembling had passed.

Chapter 15

“I’M NOT WEAK,” SUSANNAH SAID.

“Of course you aren’t. You’re the strongest person I know.”

She rested her head on Ryan’s shoulder. “He thinks I’m spineless when it comes to you.”

He chuckled softly and touched his lips to her forehead. “We know better, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do. Why was it so hard for him and everyone else in my life to believe we genuinely love each other?”

“I don’t know, but they did their best to fill you with enough doubts to sink the
Titanic.

“I
was
weak because I let them. I should’ve put you and our relationship off limits with them.”

“You live and learn, baby. The next time around we’ll put up a wall around us so none of that crap can get in.”

She raised an amused eyebrow. “You’re awfully certain there’ll be a next time.”

He kissed her cheek. “I think there already is.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell Henry the engagement is off. He wouldn’t let me.”

“So I gathered.”

“You
were
listening.”

“Hell, yes, I was listening. I don’t trust that guy as far as I can spit him. I wouldn’t put it past him to get physical with
you when you tell him it’s over.”

She scoffed. “Henry would never lay a hand on me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Susie. He’s obsessed with you. He always has been, only now he sees everything he’s waited years for
about to slip through his fingers. He’s getting desperate. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“You’re overreacting, Ry. He’s harmless.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s manipulative and vindictive.”

“And you’re very sexy when you’re jealous,” she said with a teasing smile.

He cupped her cheek. “I’m serious, Susannah. I want you to be careful.”

“I will be.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

“You don’t have to worry.”

“I
am
worried.” He turned her face and kissed her so softly, so gently, that the effect was devastating.

“I’m worried about so many things, and all of them involve you.”

She reached for him, wanting more of those kisses he was handing out. But there was nothing soft or gentle about the possessive
burst of passion he responded with. She met his ardor with an equal dose of her own, and when he finally pulled back from
her he looked stunned.

“That’s one way to change the subject.”

“Did it work?”

He shook his head. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Susie. If anything ever happened to you . . . ”

The phone rang again, but neither of them moved.

“Hey,” she said, shaken by his concern. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I can take care of myself, remember?”

“How could I forget? I can still feel your shoulder in my ribs.” Twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, he added,
“You haven’t promised me.”

“I promise. I’ll be careful, but you don’t need to worry.”

“I don’t want you to be alone with him again.” When she began to protest, he silenced her with another gentle kiss. “This
isn’t me being jealous, Susie. I swear it isn’t. I just have this feeling there’s going to be trouble when he finds out you’re
not going to marry him.”

Taken in by the sincere concern reflected in his brown eyes, she leaned her forehead against his. “I won’t be alone with him.
Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” he said with a deep sigh of relief. He hugged her tightly. “Yes, it does.”

The phone rang again, and this time Susannah got up from his lap to answer it. “Hi, Bernie. Yes, he’s here. Hang on a minute.”
She handed the phone to Ryan and left him to take the call.

She went into the kitchen and listened to the messages on her answering machine. Several were from members of her committee
about last-minute issues with the Black and White Ball, as well as two from Henry’s mother inquiring about wedding invitations
and seating plans. Susannah leaned against the counter and hung her head as she listened to Henrietta’s excited messages.
She’d been so sure she was doing the right thing by marrying Henry. That she could have been so wrong left her shaken. Erasing
the messages, she reached for her cell phone to return the calls from her committee and to order the food for later.

Ryan came into the kitchen holding the portable phone to his chest. “Wives and kids?” he whispered, raising a questioning
eyebrow.

“Of course.” She recalculated her numbers for the caterer. “Why not?”

He smiled and turned back toward the den, talking to Bernie with animated gestures.

Susannah was relieved to see his spirits were high on the day he planned to end a career that had taken them both—but him
in particular—on an extra ordinary journey.

He spent most of the day on the phone tracking down his teammates while she attended to the party preparations and fielded
calls from her ball committee colleagues, who were relieved to hear she was back in town and back in charge.

Just after four, Susannah went upstairs to change.

Ryan joined her a few minutes later.

“How are you doing?” she asked. “Feeling okay?”

“Yeah, you know, a little sad, but I guess that’s normal.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t sad.”

“I feel better knowing you’ll be there with me.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

“I appreciate you coming along.”

“Sure. It’s no problem.”

He kissed her hand and released it so they could get dressed.

She put on a dark suit with heels and the two-carat diamond earrings he had given her on their wedding day.

He emerged from his walk-in closet wearing navy dress pants, a starched white shirt and a tweed sports jacket. “I’m glad I
still had some clothes here. Saved me a trip into town.”

“Since you never came to get them, I’d been thinking about donating them to the Salvation Army.”

He smiled. “Not so fast, darlin’.” Crossing the room, he hugged her from behind. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Thank you.” She turned to him as she secured the back of the second earring. “So do you—as always.”

He toyed with one of the earrings. “I’m glad you still wear them.”

“I love them. You know I do.”

“And I love
you.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned that yet today.”

She sent him a teasing grin. “No, you haven’t. Are you already taking me for granted again?”

His eyes were serious. “Never again.”

“I was kidding, Ry.”

“I know.”

“Listen, before we go and before everything gets crazy, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“What, baby?” he asked, concerned.

“It’s nothing bad,” she said as she smoothed her hands over his crisp shirt. “I want you to know that even though I didn’t
say it very often because of the situation with your ego and all of that . . . ”

“Oh,
God,
where’s this going?” he groaned.

She chuckled at the pained expression on his face. “I was just going to say I was always proud of you and everything you accomplished
in your career. I’m proud of the way you handled yourself with class in every situation—even the ones that didn’t deserve
it. You always took the high road.” She reached up to brush the hair off his forehead. “And I’m proud that despite everything
that’s happened to you—all the acclaim and attention—the most important parts of you are exactly the same as they were the
day I met you. I just wanted you to know that.”

“Susannah,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion as he took her into his arms. “Thank you. It pleases me more than you
could ever know to hear you say that. I may have done all those things you said, but I screwed up the only thing that really
matters. Don’t think I don’t realize that.”

“I know you do.”

He leaned in to kiss her. “Come on, let’s go do this, so we can get home and do
this,
” he said, pressing his hips into hers.

“Stop!” she squealed. “You’ve had enough of that for a while.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. You owe me a year’s worth. But I’m willing to let you work it off on the installment plan.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re just
too
good to me.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Ryan didn’t say much on the short ride to Mavericks’ Stadium on the city’s south side, and Susannah decided to leave him alone
with his thoughts. He used his pass to gain access to the players’ parking lot. “We’ve got about twenty minutes,” he said.
“Let’s take a walk.”

Wearing a long brown leather coat with his Stetson, he came around the car to help her out. Not a soul was in sight as they
walked hand-in-hand through the hallways under the stadium that led to the sprawling locker room, which was sparkling clean
and almost surgically neat. The purple floor and yellow walls were adorned with the Mavericks’ logo. Purple helmets lined
the top shelf over the long row of lockers.

An older bald man came in through one of the many doorways that fed into the locker room.

“Sandy! Hey, you look great. How’re you feeling?”

“Hi, Tony. I’m doing much better. You remember my wife, Susannah, right?”

Tony glanced at Ryan before he extended his hand to Susannah. “Of course. Nice to see you again, Mrs.

Sanderson. It’s been a while.”

“Hello, Tony.” She was unsure how she felt about being referred to as Ryan’s wife—as if the whole world didn’t know they were
minutes from a divorce. “Nice to see you, too.”

“What’re you doing here?” Tony asked Ryan. “I thought you were home recuperating.”

“I’ve got a meeting with Chet and Duke. I wanted to get a few things out of my locker, if that’s okay with you.” To Susannah,
Ryan added, “We know better than to touch anything in here without checking with the chief first.”

Tony chuckled. “You think it’s easy being the head counselor at Camp Runamok?” He swept his hand toward Ryan’s locker in the
center of the long row. “Feel free.”

Ryan shook his hand. “Thanks, Tony. For everything.”

“Sure, Sandy,” Tony said with a puzzled expression.

“You take care now.”

“You, too.”

Tony nodded to Susannah and left them alone.

Ryan walked over to the door bearing the large number eighteen and ran a hand over the helmet on the shelf above his locker.
“This must be a new one. I heard the E.R. doctors used a saw to cut off the one I wore in the Super Bowl.”

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “Not a thing after Rodney Johnson hit me, until about eight hours later.”

Susannah winced.

“Sorry, baby.” He kissed her forehead. “I know you don’t like to talk about that stuff.” Opening the yellow locker door, he
rifled around in the chaos.

Susannah stepped closer to get a better look at the photos he had hung on the door: her engagement picture, their wedding,
Ryan and his mother at his Florida graduation, and some group shots of current and former teammates. Mixed into the collage
was an ultrasound photo. “Oh,” she said with a small gasp as she fingered the yellowing edges of the black and white image.
“You kept this?”

“It’s the only photo of him we had.”

They gazed at the grainy image of tiny fingers and toes, a sloping spinal column, the little heart.

“I was so proud of that picture,” Ryan said in a hushed voice. “I showed it to everyone.”

“I remember.” She looked up at him. “I’m glad you kept it.”

“Do you want it? You can have it.”

“I still have mine, too.”

They shared a small, sad smile.

“On second thought,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’ll get the stuff I need from here another time.” Slamming the door
closed, he took her hand. “Let’s go outside.” On the way out of the locker room, he grabbed a football from a huge wire basket
full of them.

They walked through the dark tunnel that led to the field, emerging at the Mavericks’ forty-yard line. Like a rookie getting
his first glimpse at the big time, Ryan stepped onto the field and made a slow circle as he took in the towering rows of purple
and yellow seats, the championship banners, and sky boxes.

Susannah stayed on the sidelines and watched him.

He tossed the ball back and forth between his hands with an unconscious grace. “Do you know what I loved best about this game?”

“I can think of so many things.”

“There was one in particular.” He fixed his eyes on the goalpost at the far end of the field. “I know what I’m doing here.
It’s as clear to me as the next breath.” He flipped the ball up and caught it without taking his eyes off the goalpost. “Outside
these walls most things are a mystery. But here . . . Here, I get it, you know?” He looked over at her. “That sounds dumb,
doesn’t it?”

“No.” She joined him on the field. “It doesn’t.”

“They talk about my skills and abilities and throw around big adjectives that—
at times
—have gone to my head. I won’t deny that.”

Susannah snickered.

“But so much of my good fortune on this field has been due to God-given talent and pure old-fashioned good luck—the right
team, the right coaches calling the right plays, the right receiver in just the right place at the right time. It’s luck as
much as it is hard work and discipline. At the end of the day, I’ve just been lucky.”

“You should say that. At your press conference, you should say everything you just said to me.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

Cocking his lucky arm into shotgun formation, he said, “Want to go long for me, darlin’?”

She raised an amused eyebrow. “In high heels?”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“I never was a very good receiver anyway.”

“Are we still talking about football?” he asked with a smirk.


Ryan!

He laughed, and bracing his ribs with his free hand, he let the ball rip as best he could. Even with a handicap, the ball
soared more than fifty yards.

“Not bad for an old retiree,” Susannah said.

“Not bad at all, if I do say so myself.”

“I figured you would.”

He grinned and looped his arm around her shoulders.

“Let’s go do this thing.”

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