It Had to Be You Part 42

She was chatting with Bobby Tom and the pair of shapely redheads draped over his arms when she heard someone yell.

"Quiet, people! Quiet!"

Everyone in the crowd was startled to realize that commanding voice was coming from Ron, and they all fell silent. He was standing at one end of the room holding a telephone, his hand cupped over the mouthpiece.

"Phoebe!" He thrust the receiver forward. "Phoebe, it's for you!"

She regarded him quizzically.

"It's the president!" He spoke the words in a stage whisper that could have been heard in the parking lot.

She had just spoken with the NFL president a few hours earlier, and she didn't understand why Ron was so agitated. "I thought we had everything settled."

"The President! Of the United States! He's calling to congratulate you."

She gulped. Her hand fluttered to the neck of her sweater. The players laughed and then fell silent as she walked up to take the phone.

A woman's voice said, "Miss Somerville, I have the president on the line."

Just then someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see Dan standing next to her, a grin the size of a football field spreading all over his face. "Now, Phoebe." Phoebe."

She regarded him blankly. "What?"

"Now."

His meaning slowly penetrated her brain, and she stared at him in disbelief. He meant now! now! She pressed her hand over the mouth of the receiver. "Dan, it's the President! I can't-" She pressed her hand over the mouth of the receiver. "Dan, it's the President! I can't-"

He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unbearably smug. She realized that he had been waiting for a moment just like this. That rat! He had set her up, and now he was going to spend the rest of their lives teasing her unmercifully about not having the guts to take his dare. That c.o.c.ky, infuriating jock! jock! Somebody definitely had to take him down a peg or two. Somebody definitely had to take him down a peg or two.

The President's voice boomed over the wire. "Congratulations, Miss Somerville. It was an amazing game."

"Excuse me, sir." She gulped. "I have Miss Somerville right here." She shoved the phone at an astonished Sharon Anderson.

Dan gave a hoot of laughter. She grabbed him and pulled him through the crowd. Just as they reached the door, she spoke.

"You'd better be worth it, studm.u.f.fin."

In the background, Sharon Anderson, after a stumbling start, had risen to the occasion. Much to Ron's bemus.e.m.e.nt, he heard her say, "I'm fine now, Mr. President. Yes, it was quite harrowing. By the way, sir, I want you to know that all of us in the Stars' organization share your concern about adequate funding for preschool education... ."

"Studm.u.f.fin?" Dan pulled out onto the highway. "You called me studm.u.f.fin!" studm.u.f.fin!"

Phoebe was still trying to catch her breath. "This game can go two ways, Coach. Don't be surprised if you're in the final two minutes of the Super Bowl-"

"You wouldn't."

"I might."

He looked over at her and smiled. "Speaking of the Super Bowl. Will you marry me as soon as it's over?"

"How about Valentine's Day?"

"Too long."

"Groundhog Day?"

"Deal." The Ferrari raced down the ramp onto the Tollway. "You know that we've got a few problems we need to talk through before we get married."

"I'm not getting rid of Pooh."

"See, there you go being antagonistic. Marriage means learning to compromise."

"I didn't say I wouldn't compromise. I promise to take the ribbon out of her topknot before you walk her."

"You're all heart."

Phoebe's smile faded. "I want children, too. I always have. I just needed to know you loved me."

"I hope you know it by now. I never loved anybody in my life the way I love you. I want children, but not nearly as much as I want you."

"I'm glad." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and then released it. "I don't want to send Molly away. I want her to stay with us."

He glanced over at her. "Of course she's going to stay with us. Where else would she go?"

"I thought you might want more privacy."

"Once that bedroom door is shut, we'll have plenty of privacy. Actually, when I mentioned problems we need to talk about, I was referring to the Stars."

"I know you're not marrying me for the Stars. I should never have said what I did. I was hurt."

"I'm glad you realize that. But you see, we still have a problem. Historically it's been women who've married the boss. As soon as they had a wedding ring on their finger, they quit their jobs and stayed home. Neither of us wants you to do that, but I have to tell you that I'm not all that comfortable with the idea of spending the rest of my life sleeping next to somebody who's got the power to fire me if my underwear doesn't make it all the way to the laundry hamper."

She repressed a smile. "I'm sympathetic to your problem, but I'm not selling the team just so you can be a slob."

"Somehow I didn't expect you would."

"It's a new world order. You men are going to have to figure out how to handle it."

"You're enjoyin' this, aren't you?"

"I'm mildly amused."

Despite her teasing, she had already been doing some thinking about how she might balance the enormous demands of owning the Stars with marriage and the children she hoped to have. "As a matter of fact, I have a few ideas on this subject. It's not completely worked out in my mind, but when it is, you'll be the first person I talk to about it."

"Then I'd better tell you that I'm not planning to coach the Stars the rest of my life."

"Dan, you can't go to work for another team! It would be an impossible situation."

"I'm not going anywhere for a while. But you've seen what this life is like during the season. I want to be around for you and for our kids, and I've been toying with this idea for a long time. I decided a while back that the day I wake up and realize I can't remember what my wife and kids look like is the day I get out of pro coaching. I'm going to find a Division III college nearby, and that's where I'm going to settle in for the rest of my coaching career."

"Division III? I don't know what that means."

"They're small colleges. They don't offer athletic scholars.h.i.+ps, and the pros never scout them. The kids aren't the biggest, they aren't the fastest, and n.o.body's slipping them money under the table. They're only playing football for one reason, and that's because they love the game. So while you're off wheeling and dealing with all the high rollers, I'm going to tuck myself away on some nice little college campus and remember why I started playing the game in the first place."

"It sounds wonderful."

He s.h.i.+fted lanes. "That scarf you've got under your coat collar. Would you mind blindfolding yourself with it?"

"What?"

"Now."

"Oh, for Pete's sake." She s.n.a.t.c.hed the scarf from beneath her coat collar and tied it around her eyes. "This is ridiculous! You're not planning anything kinky, are you?"

There was a long silence.

"Dan?"

"Well, I suppose it all depends on how conservative your viewpoint is."

"You said you were putting all that behind you. That you wanted a nice, ordinary s.e.x life."

"Uh-huh."

"You don't sound very certain."

"See, it's like this. After a lifetime of high living, it'd probably be best if I sort of tapered off gradually. That way it wouldn't be too big a shock to my system. And this is something I've been thinking about for a long time."

"You're making me very nervous."

"That's good, honey. That's real good." He then launched into the sweetest, softest dirty talk she had ever heard in her life until her skin was so flushed she had to unb.u.t.ton her coat. But he still wouldn't tell her where he was taking her.

When he finally stopped the car, she realized that his monologue had distracted her so much that she'd forgotten to pay attention. Had the tires crunched on gravel? She listened hard, but although she couldn't hear any traffic noises, she wasn't absolutely certain whether or not he'd driven her to his house.

"You're going to have to wait here for a couple of minutes while I get a few things settled. I'll be right back, so don't get nervous." His lips brushed hers. "Promise me you won't spoil everything by sneaking a peek. That'd be a sign that you don't trust me, and what kind of marriage would we have then?"

"You're really pus.h.i.+ng me. You know that, don't you?"

"I know, darlin'." He nibbled her bottom lip. "While you're waiting, why don't you just go over all those things I told you I was going to do to you. That way you won't be bored." His chuckle was definitely diabolical as he slipped his hand under her dress, squeezed her thigh, and then opened his door.

It was an absolutely rotten thing for him to have said, because once he'd planted the idea, she couldn't think of anything else. By the time he returned to the car, she was quivering with s.e.xual antic.i.p.ation.

She felt a rush of cold air as he opened the door. "Everything's all taken care of. I'm going to carry you now." He caught her under her knees only to immediately set her back down on the seat. "Phoebe, honey, you're still wearing your underwear. I distinctly remember telling you I wanted it off by the time I got back."

"You did not."

"I'm sure I did. I guess I'll have to take it off myself." Sliding his hands under her dress, he pulled off her panty hose and her underpants.

"I'm going to freeze. It's not even twenty degrees."

"I don't think you'll have to worry too much about freezing. Where in the world did these panties come from?"

"I bought them."

"They're not much more than two little ribbons and a sc.r.a.p of silk. Did you give up your industrial strength underwear just for me?"

"Just for you."

"That's sweet, honey, and I appreciate it. Now slip those high heels back on. I do like the way your legs look in high heels." As soon as she'd done what he said, he caught her under her knees and swept her out of the car. Her skirt fell free and cold air fanned her naked bottom, which was exposed for the entire world to see.

"Please tell me there aren't a dozen people standing around."

"Only half a dozen, sweetheart. But they're all too busy adjusting the carburetors on their motorcycles to look."

She buried her face in his collar and laughed. He was outrageous, impossible, and she was having the best time of her life. But where was he taking her? But where was he taking her?

He s.h.i.+fted her weight and opened some sort of door. She was relieved to feel warmer air on her bottom as they stepped inside.

"That blindfold still tight?"

"Uh huh."

"That's good. Don't pay any attention if you hear strange noises."

"What sort of noises?"

"Drunken laughter. Breaking gla.s.s. Jukebox. That sort of thing."

"I won't give it a thought."

"And if somebody named Bubba asks you what you're doing here, you just tell him you're with me."

"I'll do that."

He began kissing her, and by the time he stopped walking, she realized he'd once again distracted her from paying attention to where they were going. Had they traveled a short distance or a long one? He wasn't breathing hard, but he was in such good physical shape, that didn't mean anything. She couldn't even be certain whether he'd climbed a set of stairs or if they'd stayed on the same level.

"I'm going to set you down now. I don't want to get you too close to the bar. On account of fights breaking out."

"May I take the blindfold off yet?"

"I'm afraid not, honey. You've still got your clothes on."

"I have to take my clothes off?"

"I'm sorry, darlin'. I thought you'd figured out how this was going to work." He removed her coat. "Don't you worry, though. I'll help you."

"You're such a gentleman."