Dont misunderstand, Cole continued. I plan to ask her to marry me just as soon as I find the right rock. But right now Im kinda busy keeping her in my bed and away from the offensive line.
Again, Emily nodded her agreement.
Aint that a bitch? Mitchs voice joined the conversation.
Hey, Mitch, Cole greeted amicably, while Mitch took in the cookie fest and apparently decided to join them, helping himself.
Have a good time in Austin? asked Cole.
Mitch grinned, settling in next to Jenny. Had a great time. You? He bit down on half of the cookie.
The best, said Cole.
Jenny took in the glow on Emilys and Coles faces, and found her emotions calming down. They might be joking about getting pregnant, but their true message was that theyd fallen in love.
Youre getting married? she asked, wanting to confirm the meaning of Coles offhand remark.
Emily made a show of a heavy sigh. I guess I will have to marry the guy.
Cole pulled her close against him. She finally came to her senses.
Hes not that short, she admitted. And he does have this incredible-
Cole cut her off with a solid kiss, and Jenny found her gaze straying to Mitch. His answering smile warmed her heart.
I brought you a present, he whispered, straightening away from Emily and Cole.
Curious, Jenny twisted to watch him cross the kitchen floor. He retrieved a flat gold box from the telephone table just inside the kitchen doorway.
What is it? she automatically asked, thoroughly puzzled by the gesture.
Open it and see. He set it on the island countertop in front of her.
Is this a joke? For some reason, she steeled herself. What was this all about?
Im dead serious. He pushed it in her direction.
Should we leave you two alone? Cole asked.
Mitch gave him a mocking eye-roll. Its not X-rated.
Too bad, said Emily, and everyone looked her way. She shrugged. It could be fun.
Open it up, Mitch prompted Jenny.
She took a bracing breath and lifted the lid.
Pulling back the mauve tissue paper, she found a gently folded rainbow silk dress. It took her a moment to realize what hed done, and then another long moment to speak. You bought a new one?
It was a great dress, said Mitch, moving up close behind her, gazing over her shoulder and smoothing his broad palm down her hair to the back of her neck.
What happened to the last one? asked Cole, a thread of laughter in his voice.
Youll never find out, Mitch answered.
Emily reached out and touched Jennys arm. You looked fabulous in it.
Jenny didnt know what to say. It was an expensive gift, a very thoughtful gift. She did love the dress, but things like this were going to make it hard for her to keep her relationship with Mitch in perspective.
Would you have preferred something different? he asked her in a low voice.
She shook her head. She would have preferred to not feel this tightness in her chest, this rush of soft emotions and the urge to bury herself against him and hold on forever. She felt vulnerable and frightened. The old Jenny would have demanded to know what the gift meant, and where Mitch thought he was going with all this.
But she couldnt do that. And, unfortunately, the new Jenny didnt have a coping mechanism for a guy who was sending out mixed messages.
Anyone up for dinner? asked Cole, breaking the silence. Seafood? Gillians Landing?
Sounds great to me, said Emily, sliding off her high chair.
Cole braced her while she settled her feet on the floor.
Okay by you? Mitch asked Jenny. We can go back to my place and grill something instead.
Jenny shook her head. No. Gillians sounds great. Better not to spend too much time alone with Mitch, dreaming of things that might never be.
Later that night, Mitch reflected on how much he loved being alone with Jenny.
He lay in his bed, propped up on one elbow, the light sheet covering him from the waist down.
Jenny had slipped into one of his faded football jerseys and rolled the long sleeves up to her elbows. It was green and white, with the number twenty-two across the back, and it hung nearly down to her knees.
Her hair was mussed from their lovemaking, and she couldnt have looked more adorable.
And this one? she asked, lifting a gold trophy from the shelf beside his dresser.
High school, he told her. Junior year.
She held the etched plaque close to her face, squinting. Player of The Year. All State.
It was a good year. I had a lot of lucky breaks. He patted the bed beside him. You must be getting cold out there.
She replaced the trophy, picking up the next one. You need to dust these.
If youre going through the entire set, its going to take all night, he complained.
The Dallas Devils?
College.
Its heavy. She hefted the tall trophy.
Careful.
I wont break it.
Mitch rolled out of bed. I dont want it to break you.
She giggled, as if his worry was absurd.
He strode across the hardwood floor and lifted the trophy from her hands, setting it safely back on the shelf.
What are these? She opened a cherrywood box that his mother had given him when he was about fifteen.
Come back to bed.
Theyre rings, she exclaimed, running her finger through the box. Theyre gorgeous. Look at these.
Ive seen them.
The Lightning Bowl. The Ibex Cup.
He bent to kiss her tender neck. You can look at those any old time.
Are these real diamonds?
I dont know. Probably.
How many of these have you won? She checked through the contents of the box.
I have no idea. His kisses were making their way toward her lips.
She held a ring up to the light. Tell me thats not a real emerald.
He didnt bother looking. Thats not a real emerald.
Youre lying. Look at that color and clarity.
You want the ring? Take the ring.
I dont think itll fit. She dropped it and let it fall loosely onto the base of her thumb, spinning it around for a moment before putting it back.
Mitch gave up on kissing, pawing his way through the box and extracting a gold ring with a flat face, a ruby chip and the entwined platinum letters S and C in relief. Try this one.
Mitch gave up on kissing, pawing his way through the box and extracting a gold ring with a flat face, a ruby chip and the entwined platinum letters S and C in relief. Try this one.
She accepted it in her palm. Its nice.
My first. He smiled. Sixth grade. It might fit. He snagged her hand, slipping it on to the ring finger of her right hand.
Laughing, she tried to pull away.
But he held her still. See, it fits fine.
Im not taking your ring.
Why not? Grinning, he kissed her palm. Its not like Im going to use it again. You want to go steady? The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Her smile disappeared. Dont do that.
I was just-
I know how you feel, Mitch. Dont mess around. She determinedly tugged off the ring.
He opened his mouth to explain. But what could he say? Hed done nothing but make his position on a serious relationship repeatedly and abundantly clear to her for the past few weeks.
Sorry, he mumbled.
She dropped the ring back into the box. Nothing to be sorry for. Then she pasted a determined smile on her face, snapped the wooden box shut and set it back on the shelf. Youve had an amazing career, she bravely carried on, but there was a warmth missing from the tone of her voice.
Youre whats amazing, he told her honestly, but she shifted away.
He wanted to kick himself. Hed hurt her feelings again. Hurt her feelings, frightened her and forced a cool distance between them, when all he wanted to do was carry her back to his bed and make love to her, or maybe just hold her in his arms for the next few hours, or days or weeks.
Eleven
After Mitchs stupid slipup about going steady last night, Jenny had left his house. It had been nothing but a joke, but it had obviously rattled her. And now he didnt know how to fix it.
This morning, he was frustrated and in no mood for Coles interference. He glared at Cole across his office desk. But Cole didnt back down, parroting Mitchs words. No, this is absolutely not rich, successful Cole Maddison, throwing poor, pathetic Mitch Hayward a bone.
Then give me an explanation.
The explanation is that you should get your head out of your ass.
Youre saying the White House randomly thought of me? A washed-up quarterback from Royal, Texas, who hasnt won a significant sports award in nearly a decade?
No. Someone at the White House probably watched your touchdown rush in the Folder Cup, saw your charitable endorsements to Childhood Special Teams, read about your work with underprivileged teenage players, noticed the hundreds of thousands of hits on your fan site and heard about your Youth Outreach Award from the governor last week!
Keep your voice down. Mitchs office door was closed, but Jenny could arrive at any moment.
Then listen to me. This is not some fabricated, make-work, patronage position invented out of pity. Youd have a staff, a budget, three regional offices and a mandate that covers the country.
Mitch drew back, trying to wrap his head around the unexpected proposal. And its the Presidents council.
The Presidents Council on Physical Fitness. Coles voice was flat, his frustration still evident. Youd be the Director for Children and Youth.
Mitch tried to picture it, but couldnt.
Listen, said Cole, backing off and plunking down in one of the two guest chairs at the front of Mitchs desk. It sucks that you got hurt. It truly does. But you did, and you cant change that. So, you can sit around and cry about it, or you can pick yourself up and dust yourself off, and get going on the rest of your life.
Mitch resented Coles implication. Have I, ever once, come whining to you in self-pity?
Youve got a lot of self-discipline. Ill give you that. But actions speak louder than words. Cole glanced around the big office. In December, this gigs going to end. And then what?
Mitch had been trying hard not to think about that. But Cole was dead right on that count.
And it has to be in D.C.? Mitch forced himself to think through the potential of the unexpected offer.
You gotta be where the action is. Part of your job will be to schmooze senators and congressmen to make sure the program is well funded.
I dont schmooze.
Cole barked out a laugh. After the embezzlement and sabotage here two years ago, you nearly single-handedly brought the TCC back from the brink of disaster to a solid, thriving organization.