Steal My Heart (Bachelors & Bridesmaids) Page 6

  Bringing him home had definitely been a bad idea.

  Fifteen minutes later, Michael had an even worse idea.

  "Let's play a game," Michael said, waving her over. "We need you, Liz."

  "I don't think so."

  "Come on, Lizzie, Greg said impatiently. "We can do four against four if you play. And you can be on Michael's team."

  "You can be my receiver," Michael told her with a cheerful smile.

  "Maybe you can be my receiver," she returned. "Or do you only know how to throw a football?"

  "I can catch. Can you throw?"

  "I can throw," she said, meeting his gaze.

  "Well, I want to see that," he returned.

  "Then let me show you."

  "You're on."

  She and Michael lined up with two of her nephews while her brothers faced them with the other two boys.

  Her nephew Cameron hiked the ball to her. Michael dodged Greg with a move worthy of an NFL player and headed toward the far end of the park. He wasn't going to make it easy on her, she quickly realized. Sidestepping Tom, who was closing in fast, she drew her arm back and threw the ball to Michael.

  It had been years since she'd thrown a football, but it was probably the best spiral she'd ever thrown. She was more than a little pleased to see the shocked look in Michael's eyes when the ball landed perfectly in his hands. He turned and ran toward the designated goal line.

  She let out a squeal of delight and ran across the grass. She was going to give him a high five, but as she raised her hand, he grabbed her around the waist and spun her around.

  Laughing, he finally set her down. "That was a great pass, Lizzie."

  "I taught her to throw," Tom said.

  "Wait a second. I'm the one who taught her," Greg complained.

  "Well, it doesn't matter, let's see how well you two defend," Tom said.

  They lined back up again and for the next twenty minutes they played like the kids they'd all once been. Unfortunately, the game came to an end when Greg's pass sailed over one of the neighbor's fences.

  While her brothers bickered about who was going to get the ball, Michael put his arm around her shoulders and said, "Nice throwing, Lizzie."

  "For a girl?" she asked, smiling up at him.

  "For anyone. You did surprise me. I always thought of you as an artist or a nerd; I had no idea you could play football with the boys."

  "Having two older brothers and a father who loved the game made it impossible for me to avoid learning how to throw a spiral. It has been awhile though. I surprised myself. Thanks for playing today. I know it wasn't what you had in mind."

  "It was more fun that I thought it would be."

  "You're really good with kids. I think my nephews will be raving about you at school all week."

  "Your nephews are great, easy to teach, excited to learn. They reminded me of how I felt when I first started to play."

  "Well, I know I promised you some snacks, so why don't we go to the house? My father is going to be excited to meet you."

  As they walked across the street, Michael kept his arm around her shoulders, and seeing as how he was being so nice to her and her family, she didn't push him away. Plus, she really liked being close to him, and this moment in time wasn't going to last very long, so she would just enjoy it.

  The house she'd grown up in was a two-story, three-bedroom home, with a living room and formal dining room that were rarely used. All the real action took place in the big family room where she found her parents. As she'd expected, her father was on the couch in front of the 70-inch TV her brothers had bought him for his last birthday. The coffee table was laden with chips and veggie platters. While her father muttered at the refs about their latest line call, her mom knitted.

  Liz smiled to herself at the familiar sight, feeling a comfort in the sameness of it all. Her dad had gone bald with the chemo and he was thinner than he used to be but he still had the fire in his eyes when he cared about something, whether it was football or work, or anything else. He was the one who had taught her to always give a hundred percent, no matter the job, no matter the odds against her success.

  Her mother was a fair blonde with short curly hair and a sparkly smile. Her mother couldn't knit anything but blankets, and they all had far more than they could use, but she still kept on knitting. She said it relaxed her and she hated to be idle. The knitting had come in handy during the many long hours she'd spent accompanying her husband to chemo and waiting for tests to come back.

  "Liz," her mom said in happy delight, as she caught sight of them. "I'm so glad you came."

  "I wouldn't miss it." She licked her lips, realizing her mom's astute gaze had registered the fact that a very attractive man had his arm around her daughter's shoulders. She really should have moved away from Michael earlier. She stepped forward, Michael's arm dropping from her shoulders. "I brought someone I thought you might want to meet. This is—"

  "Michael Stafford," her father said, cutting her off. His eyes lit up with excitement as he kicked back the footrest of the recliner and sat up. "I can't believe it. Michael Stafford is in my house. What is going on?"

  "Sir," Michael said, moving across the room to shake her father's hand.

  "Call me Ron," her dad said. "This is my wife Joan."

  "Nice to meet you both," Michael said, giving her mom a warm smile.

  "You, too," Joan said. "Please sit down. Liz didn't say she was bringing any visitors."

  "I wanted it to be a surprise," she said.

  "Can I get you anything?" her mother asked as Michael took a seat on the couch.

  "I'd love something to drink," Michael replied. "I worked up a sweat playing football across the street."

  "Really?" Joan asked, giving Liz a quizzical glance.

  "We ran into Greg and Tom," Liz said. "They wanted to play a game with Michael, and he was nice enough to say yes."

  "It was fun," Michael said. "I had no idea Liz knew how to throw a spiral."

  Her dad nodded. "She was actually better than Tom and Greg. Don't tell them I said that."

  Michael laughed. "I saw that at the park."

  "Do you want a beer?" Liz asked.

  "That sounds great."

  "And I'll get more snacks," Joan added, following Liz out of the room.

  Liz walked into the kitchen and smiled at her sister-in-law Amber and her six-year-old niece Hannah. They were covered in flour with sheets of cookies ready to be put in the oven. Amber was married to Tom. "What have we here?"

  "Auntie Liz," Hannah said, sliding off the counter stool to come over and hug Liz. "We're making cookies."

  "I can see that. Are any done yet?"

  "You'll have to wait about twelve minutes," Amber said. "Did you happen to see my husband on your way in?"

  "Yes. But Tom and Greg are trying to figure out who is going to knock on the Colemans' door to get the football back."

  "Tom threw that ball over the Colemans' fence again?" her mother asked with annoyance in her eyes. "That must be the hundredth time."

  "This time it was Greg," she said, wiping a smudge of flour off Hannah's face "And even though he's thirty-two years old, Greg is still afraid of 'mean old man Coleman'".

  "He's not mean, just depressed," her mom said.

  "I guess." She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a beer.

  "So Amber, Liz brought home a man," Joan announced.

  "Really? That's a first."

  "I've had men here before," she said.

  "Not in at least a year," Amber reminded her.

  "Well, I've been busy." Between her dad's illness and trying to save her job, she hadn't had that much time to worry about dating and the few dates she'd been on had all been terrible. "I need to take this to Michael."

  "Can I do it?" Hannah asked.

  "Sure," she said, handing her niece the bottle. "My friend is sitting with Grandpa. Don't spill it."

  "Okay, I won't," Hannah declared.

  "So who i
s Michael?" Amber asked as she slid two trays of cookie sheets into the oven.

  "He's a guy I went to school with. We ran into each other a few days ago at Playworld. He's competing for their PR account."

  "So you're rivals again?" her mom said with a knowing smile. "Isn't that just crazy?"

  "I certainly thought it was. I remember Dad mentioning that Michael had gotten hurt last season, but I guess I didn't realize the injury would end his career. Now he's working at his sister's firm and pitching for the same account I want."

  "Just like old times," her mom said, adding for Amber's benefit, "Liz and Michael used to go head-to-head in school. He was a thorn in her side."

  "More like a pain in the ass," she muttered.

  Amber gave her a thoughtful look. "Then why bring him home to hang out with all of us?"

  It was a good question. Fortunately, she had a logical answer. "I thought Dad might enjoy meeting him."

  "And he did," her mom said. "His face lit up like a Christmas tree when you introduced Michael. I haven't seen Ron look that excited about anything in over a year. It was a good call, but what I want to know is what's really going on with you and Michael, Liz. He had his arm around you, and you looked quite friendly with the man I believe you once declared your sworn enemy."

  "I was a little dramatic in high school."

  Her mom laughed. "Not usually, but when it came to Michael, you definitely saw red. I can't count all the times you came home spitting mad from school, and his name was always on your lips."

  "He pissed me off a lot."

  "It sounds like you liked him," Amber interjected.

  She shot her sister-in-law an annoyed look. "I did not like him."

  "I think you did," her mother put in, agreeing with Amber. "That's why he bothered you so much."

  "Because he was annoying and so good at everything. He wasn't just a great athlete, he was smart, too, and he always won whatever he went out for."

  "He was quite popular," her mom agreed. "He was one of those kids that everyone liked, except you, of course."

  "I have to meet this guy," Amber said with a laugh.

  "Go for it," she told her sister-in-law. "I'll watch the cookies for you."

  "Don't let the bottoms burn or Hannah will kill you," Amber said.

  As Amber left the room, her mother gave her a gentle smile. "So, what's really going on, Liz?"

  She sighed. "I have no idea. He's better than I remembered."

  Her mom met her gaze. "Oh, honey, I always knew you had a big crush on him."

  "Along with every other girl in school."

  "Well, you're not in school anymore, and judging by the way he was looking at you a few minutes ago, I'd say he's definitely interested in you now."

  "He's just trying to throw me off my game."

  "You're always so suspicious. You get that from your dad. You don't let anyone in easily. And even when they're in your circle, you keep your eye on them. You're ready to bolt if someone is going to make a move to hurt you. I guess you have a very sharp survival instinct. But sometimes I worry that you'll push love away just because you're afraid of letting go, allowing the possibility of pain into your life. But, honey, sometimes you have to take a risk."

  "I take risks."

  "In your job, maybe. Although, I'm not even sure about that. It seems like you've gotten more cautious since your dad got sick."

  "Well, I don't want to let him down. He has high expectations for me."

  "I know. He wants you to be him." Her mom walked over and cupped her face with her hands. "But you're not him; you're you. And that's good, too."

  For some reason, her mother's words brought unexpected moisture to her eyes. She blinked the tears away. "Thanks, Mom."

  "Any time. You've been a rock since your dad got sick. And I know you're doing everything you can to make him proud and to protect his interests. But I don't want you to lose yourself, Liz."

  "I'm going to try not to," she said. But there was a small part of her that wondered if it might be too late to make that claim.

  Chapter Seven

  Liz had just taken the cookies out of the oven when Amber and Hannah came back into the kitchen.

  "Oh, my God, Liz, Michael is gorgeous," Amber said. "You cannot throw this one back."

  "He's not a fish. I didn't catch him."

  "Maybe you did," Amber said with a grin. "He asked if you were coming back."

  "Sounds like he needs a rescue."

  "I don't know about a rescue, but I think he's missing you."

  She sincerely doubted that. Michael was probably just feeling overwhelmed by the football in the family room. She put some of the freshly baked cookies onto a plate. "I'll take these out to the guys."

  "And stay there," her mother said. "Amber and I have things under control and Kelly will be here soon."

  "I was wondering where Kelly was," she said, referring to Greg's wife.

  "She had to show a house today, but she'll be here soon."

  "How's the real-estate going?"

  "Better since the market picked up," her mom said. "Sometimes, I think your dad and I should sell this big house. We really don't need all the rooms anymore."

  She frowned at that. "You can't sell the house now. Not with Dad being sick and all."

  "You're right. Now isn't a good time," her mom said, a more somber note in her eyes. "Forget I said it. Go entertain Michael."

  After being pushed out of the kitchen, Liz made her way back into the family room. Her brothers and their boys were sprawled across all the chairs and couches, but Michael patted the small area of the couch next to him, so she slid in between him and her brother Tom.

  "Where have you been?" Michael asked.

  "Helping my mom in the kitchen. Everything okay out here?"

  Before he could answer, her brothers jumped up, giving each other a high five as their team scored a touchdown."

  "They're a little crazy," she told Michael.

  "I've seen worse. It's actually kind of fun to be sitting with the fans. This is almost better than playing in the game."

  "Almost?" she asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

  "Okay, not even close, but it is fun. I haven't had an afternoon like this in a long time—make that ever."

  "Really?" She wondered about the odd gleam in his eyes, but there was no opportunity to ask him to explain as her dad started peppering Michael with questions about the team's defensive line.

  For the next few hours, there was nothing but football, family, and food. By seven o'clock, Liz had had enough of all three. After helping her mom clean up after dinner and seeing the guys ensconced in yet another game, she escaped up the stairs to her old bedroom.

  The room was truly the room of her childhood. She'd moved out to go to college and except for a four-month-period right after college graduation; she hadn't lived in this house in a very long time. She smiled as she looked at the walls covered with her art. She'd certainly gone through some strange phases in her painting. At one time, she'd been obsessed with painting shadows of people. Other times, it was all about landscapes or crazy shapes.

  And then there were the bookshelves filled with the books of her youth, adventures, mysteries, romance and biographies. She'd always been fascinated with the story of people's lives. Reading about how others made something special out of nothing had always inspired her to try a little harder.

  "So this is where it all began," Michael said as he stepped into her room.

  Her pulse jumped at his sudden presence and also at his words, because this was where it had all began—especially when it came to him. She'd spent quite a few hours lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling thinking about him. Sometimes those thoughts had been filled with hate. Other times, there had been some lust involved… Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

  "What?" he asked, his gaze narrowing.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You just thought of something that made your face red."

 
; "It's warm in here."

  "No, it's not."

  "Well, it is to me."

  "Okay," he said, putting up a hand. "We don't have to argue about everything."

  His words made her realize that she'd always used an argument as a way to get past her feelings about him. She just hadn't understood it at the time.

  "Look at your art," Michael said, waving his hand toward the walls. "You're really good, Liz."

  "I was good. I haven't painted in a long time."

  "You should start again."

  "I don't have time."

  "You can make time for things that are important." He paused. "You just go around once, Liz. You have to do what's in your heart."

  "You sound like Charlie Hayward."

  "I understand Charlie and his dream of creating a world where people can remember what it's like to believe in the impossible."

  She sighed, his words reminding her that he was the competition, and he was probably going to give her a run for the money. But that was a problem for tomorrow. She didn't want to think about work right now.

  Michael walked over to her desk and picked up a framed photograph taken at her college graduation. "Who are all these women?"

  "My closest friends. That's Julie next to me. And then there's Laurel, Andrea, Kate, Isabella, Maggie and Jessica. We met freshmen year and we were best friends all through college. We're still pretty close. In fact, we made a vow at graduation that no matter how far apart we drifted, we'd always make sure to come back for each other's weddings."

  "And who was it that just got married?"

  "Laurel. She's the third from the left—the one who tossed me the bouquet."

  He smiled at her grumpy tone. "I thought girls wanted to catch the bouquet."

  "Well, I didn't. Now all I hear from them every time we get together is when am I going to find someone so I can make the bouquet toss come true."

  "That's a lot of pressure." He set the photo down. "You're lucky, Lizzie. You have a wonderful family and a lot of good friends."

  "I am lucky. I want you to know that I do appreciate how great you've been. You made this Sunday really nice for my dad, and he hasn't had a lot of good days lately."