For the Love of the Game Read online

  Morgan returned the smile. “I think I know what tomorrow’s T-shirt is going to say.”

  “What’s that?” He leaned in closer to the bed.

  “Up yours.”

  * * *

  The next day she was released and was happy to be returning to her room. She had only seven days left in paradise and Morgan was determined to make the most of her time. As she gingerly put on her clothes, the nurse said someone had arrived to take her back to her room. She stepped out looking for a hotel employee, but instead saw the muscle head hunk standing near a golf cart.

  “Your chariot, my lady.” He motioned to the cart.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “It’s the least I can do since it’s my fault you got injured. I will be at your beck and call for the next few days.”

  “So what is this? Looking to finish what you started on the beach?”

  “Please let me make it up to you,” he said as he ran his hand through his short hair.

  “No thanks.”

  “I’m gonna feel like dirt for the rest of my vacation if I don’t at least help you get settled.”

  Morgan saw that the rehearsed smile from last night was gone. This one didn’t seem to have a sales pitch lurking behind it. It was warm, genuine, and friendly. “Fine.”

  “My name is Seth, by the way.” He extended his hand.

  “Morgan.” She met his hand and, to her surprise, his hands were almost as soft as butter. And those soft hands were attached to a deeply tanned muscular arm with a Rolex watch wrapped around the wrist. He helped her into the cart. As she slid into the seat the bottle of pain meds she’d gotten from the clinic fell on the floor. Seth immediately leaned over to retrieve the bottle; she leaned out of his way but not in time to avoid his lips brushing against hers accidentally. He lingered a bit before backing away.

  “Sorry,” he said with a lazy look in his eyes.

  “So much for hand-eye coordination. You really shouldn’t have been playing football yesterday.” She glared at him, but her heart was almost beating out of her chest.

  The ride back to the main tower was a mere ten minutes, but since Seth drove five miles slower than the posted speed limit, it was interminable. She wanted to be away from this guy in the worst way. During the course of twenty-four hours, he’d crashed into her, watched her sleep for God only knew how long, and kissed her. Morgan couldn’t deny he was good-looking. If you went for that all-American, rugged, handsome type with a hint of Southern accent oozing out of his mouth every now and again.

  “My room is in the main tower,” she said as he approached the dividing road. He should have turned right to get back on the main path, but instead he made a left toward the ultra-exclusive bungalows. “Uh, you should have made a right.”

  “I know where I’m going.” He stopped at the front gate to the private bungalows. He flashed a smile as the guard came out of the security shack. The guard leapt back in and opened the gate for him.

  He stopped at bungalow twelve. “These are your new digs. On behalf of myself and the management for ruining your vacation.”

  “So basically you and the hotel don’t want me to sue you.” She laughed.

  “Something like that. But I do feel bad. I would like a chance to make that up to you.”

  Seth smiled again, but this time it was a half grin and his eyes sparkled. This time the dimples in his cheeks deepened. If he was going to be sincere and sweet, Morgan would have no choice but to be civil to him. Hostility toward this man was helping her keep perspective on this wacky predicament.

  The view from the pathway to the bungalows alone was more magnificent than looking out of the fourteenth story window in the main tower. The bungalow was on the beach, and it was beautiful. Felt like a home. The deck faced the water, which was a brilliant blue that beckoned closer and closer.

  “Don’t stare at it too long. The waves become hypnotic after a while. I stood on the deck for three hours the first day I got here,” Seth murmured as he opened the doors to the deck.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it? Morgan sighed.

  “There’s a bar and a kitchen. Two bedrooms and two baths. Big enough so we won’t get in each other’s way.”

  Each other? “What?”

  “This is my bungalow. There weren’t any more available. There’s plenty of room, and you’ll need someone to look after you.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She put her hands on her hips. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Oh, okay. Think fast.” Seth threw a pillow at her that hit her in the face, then fell on the floor.

  She blinked. “Am I on Tropical Candid Camera or something? Do you lure women to your bungalow, then torture them?”

  “You cannot take care of yourself. And this place is big enough for both of us.”

  “Like hell it is. I don’t even know you! All I know is you hit like a Mack truck.” And why would the hotel agree to this? Who are you?”

  “I told you my name is Seth.”

  “Seth!” She snorted. “Sounds like you should be skipping down a dirt road in a pair of overalls with an ice-cream cone in your hand!”

  “Really, Morgan? That’s funny coming from a girl with a man’s name.”

  “I haven’t been a girl in quite some time, Seth.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “Well, you’re not acting like a woman right now.”

  “If I wasn’t in such agonizing pain from being mauled by you, I’d deck you!”

  Seth laughed and looked down at her small fist. “With what? Or were you going to borrow someone else’s hand?”

  Morgan lunged at him and knew immediately it was a mistake. The meds she had taken were beginning to take effect but not enough so that she didn’t feel the pain of the sudden movement. He laughed at her as she hurled all the pillows on the couch at him, followed by the cushions, and finally as she turned to grab a coaster off the side table, he was in front of her and had her arms locked in his grasp. She looked up, glaring at him, only to see a green so sparkling it looked like someone had used a crayon to color his eyes, which were half hidden behind long lashes, too long and lush for a man to have. She’d never seen piercing green eyes up close and personal before. But his eyes reminded her of mint. The color of mouthwash? No, that was the smell of his breath as he closed in on her, his breath blowing ever so lightly on the bridge of her nose.

  Morgan slowly raised her hand, touching his side, feeling every muscle along the way down to his waist and then down to the front of his pants. He was smiling at her, a devious smile like a cat that’d caught and ate a bird in the backyard. A satisfied smile, indeed. His smile vanished as she put pressure on his crotch.

  “If you don’t let me go, cowboy, you’re gonna have a new career as an opera singer.”

  Seth laughed. “You could have just asked, you know. I think you just want to feel me up. Not that I mind the hand job.”

  Morgan refused to let him see her flush as she realized what she was doing. What started as a self-defense crotch grab had turned into a subtle caress. “Can you please let me go?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She wanted to say no and storm off in some dramatic fashion, but she was hungry. He ordered room service while she changed her clothes in her new spacious room. By the time she came out—it took some time to maneuver because of her injury—lunch was waiting for her. Seth was sitting patiently at the table when she emerged from her room.

  “Everything all right?”

  “I got hit yesterday by some mammoth of a guy on the beach, and my rib is bruised. So it takes a while for me to do everyday things.”

  “You are not going to let that go, are you?”

  “I’m like a dog with a bone,” she said as she sat carefully in the chair.

  He covered all the bases, ordering fresh lobster and shrimp and a gigantic plate of the fruits native to the island. They ate without saying too much, and afterward Seth told her he had to g
o out for a while. When he left she pulled out the book she’d been trying to read when the incident had occurred, and she enjoyed listening to the rumbling waves, drifting into a literary daydream. True, the book was fiction, but now she felt silly for overlooking paradise to delve into the book. She closed the book begrudgingly and made herself a drink.

  * * *

  Morgan was so serenely watching the sun set that she dozed off in the lounge chair. She woke a few hours later to find a blanket over her and Seth sitting in the opposite chair with his eyes closed. When she tried to get up as quietly as she could and return the favor with the blanket it only stirred him out of his sleep.

  “Feeling any better?” he asked in a lazy drawl.

  “A little.”

  He looked so innocent she didn’t have it in her to trade barbs.

  “You look well rested.”

  “I realized I was sitting in the middle of the pages of a book. Thank you for sharing your bungalow with me.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

  “I’m turning in. It’s been a long day.” Morgan smiled. That Southern charm of his was growing on her.

  Seth got out of his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I should too. Do you need any help getting ready for bed?”

  “No. I can get ready for bed on my own. Good night.”

  * * *

  Seth truly had good intentions when he’d offered to help her get ready for bed. But even as the words left his lips, images of Morgan naked began to float around in his head. When he came back to the bungalow and saw her sleeping so peacefully, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her to his bed. But he did the gentlemanly thing and covered her with a blanket. He loved watching her sleep. Part of the reason he stayed so long in the infirmary with her was that he was captivated by the rhythms of her breathing. A slow inhale that made her breasts rise a little, followed by an exhale that seemed to cleanse her body. She looked so soft and sweet while she slept. But when she was awake she was a sarcastic spitfire. It seemed like she found peace when she slept.

  He knew she would like the view from the bungalow. For the past few days, whenever he saw her on the island she was always gazing out at the water, watching wave after beautiful wave coming closer to shore. But not once did he see her actually getting in the water, or even in a bikini, for that matter. Maybe she was one of those intellectual women who thought it was offensive to put on a bikini and prance around the beach. She was short and petite and had curvy hips—baby-making hips, as his grandmother would say. She was soft and fragile, yet at the same time strong and powerful.

  He hadn’t planned past getting her to come to his bungalow. Now that she seemed resigned to the idea, he would have to strategize his next move. It would be much simpler if he was in the middle of a game; he fed off the raw energy of playing football. But he was in a bungalow with a woman he’d damn near crippled on the beach and was growing more attracted to as each hour passed. Holding her captive surely wouldn’t turn out well; she’d demonstrated that afternoon she was willing to defend herself. He needed an incentive for her to want to stay with him. He could try to charm her, but she was leery of it. She seemed more open when he eased back and let the chemistry flow between them without him herding her in his direction. Slowly she seemed to be making her way there all on her own.

  He headed off to bed too but didn’t know how much sleep he was going to get with her in such proximity. He strained to hear through the wall as Morgan bustled around her room. He imagined her getting undressed and getting ready for a shower. The thought of soapy water cascading down her body made him hard. But this time he didn’t have Morgan inadvertently stroking him. Yeah, he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

  * * *

  Morgan woke with a new attitude the next morning. She mulled over her options: she could either complain about her injury to the guilt-ridden Seth, or she could enjoy herself and accept the situation as it was. She ordered breakfast and had it waiting for him when he came out of his room.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” She removed the metal covers from the plates. “I ordered a little bit of everything to cover all the bases.”

  Seth picked up a piece of bacon and shoved it in his mouth. “Not at all. Thank you.”

  “So how long are you here on vacation?”

  “Hadn’t really thought about. As long as it takes to unwind.” He winked at her.

  “Must be nice.” She sighed and played with her linen napkin.

  “I don’t vacation a lot. But when I do, I like to get my money’s worth.”

  “This is my first vacation in seven years.”

  “Seven years.” He raised an eyebrow. “Where were you? In prison?”

  “Worse. Running a bookstore.”

  “I knew you were the reading type.”

  “The book in my hand was a dead giveaway?”

  “No.” Seth studied her face for a moment. “You look like a librarian.”

  “I’ve heard that one before.”

  “You know,” he said with a slight gleam in his eye, “I’ve had librarian fantasies.”

  “You and every man on the planet.” She giggled. “Let me guess. You’re envisioning me with my hair in a tight bun, some nerdy glasses on the edge of my nose, and a tweed skirt with a long slit up the front?”

  Seth had been eating a piece of toast. He took his time, finishing the toast, and took a sip of orange juice. “No. Just you. No bun, no glasses, and definitely no tweed skirt.”

  The temperature on the wall read sixty-nine degrees but to Morgan it was closer to a hundred and two. Those minty eyes of Seth’s seemed more like an emerald green this morning. He looked quite refreshed while she’d tossed and turned all night. She had wondered if he would try to knock on her door but was disappointed that he had been a perfect gentleman all evening. But his comment made her believe he’d at least thought about it.

  * * *

  Seth took her parasailing. It took some coaxing and a trip to the boutique to buy a bathing suit, but she did it. Morgan was proud of herself. She was actually doing something instead of reading about it in the pages of a book. And having a handsome man to show her the way to pleasure and fun wasn’t so bad either.

  After the parasailing they decided to grab some lunch and wandered into a limbo contest. The bar manager asked them to be judges; they happily agreed.

  As the contest was about to begin Seth whispered in her ear, “I bet you twenty bucks that the chubby guy in the Hawaiian shirt wins.”

  “I’ll take that bet.” She giggled.

  And he was right. Louis Parsons, from Catontown, Oklahoma was indeed the winner. Morgan gave him his prize, a gift certificate to the spa and free surfing lessons. She couldn’t help but ask Seth how he picked his winner.

  Seth said, “Louis had something to prove because he was the most overweight and people snickered when he entered the contest. He wanted that victory more than everyone else; that’s why he won.”

  Morgan smiled at his insightfulness. “Good call.”

  For the fourth time in an hour, a woman wearing a slinky red dress cruised their table. This time she pretended to drop something so she could conveniently bend down and give Seth a bird’s-eye view.

  “Can I help you?” Morgan said through her teeth.

  “Excuse me?” the woman snapped.

  “Can I help you? You keep coming over here.” Morgan repeated, a little bit louder.

  “Who do you think you’re talking to, half-pint?”

  “I’m talking to the piece of trash in a dress so short your vagina is going to catch a cold from the ocean breeze.”

  The sound of Seth’s laughter made her turn her head in his direction. The woman gazed at Seth as if he was supposed to put Morgan in her place. “Sorry, sweetheart, but she’s right on all accounts.”

  The vamp looked from Seth to Morgan and then back to Seth. After a moment she realized that almost every table had turned their attention on them, so sh
e composed herself and mumbled, “Whatever.”

  “What did you say?” Morgan said, still fired up.

  Seth jumped up in time to catch Morgan from leaving her seat. He kneeled next to her chair and rubbed her forearm. “You won, champ. By a knockout.”

  She exhaled and rubbed her temples. “This has to be the most stressful vacation I’ve ever had.”

  “But you haven’t had a dull moment since you stepped off the plane.”

  “You got that right.” She laughed.

  The simple motion of running his fingers up and down her arm seemed to calm her. Seth’s touch warmed her skin. She glanced up to see the other patrons looking at them. “I take it that happens to you a lot?”

  “Yeah. It does.”

  “I can’t believe how she tried to dismiss me like that. I’m not chopped liver. There was a time when people had respect; now it’s like the laws of the jungle to get a man. I’d like to leave now.” Morgan stood.

  “Okay.”

  “No, you stay. I’d like to be alone.”

  “I’m supposed to be looking after you,” he murmured “How about a walk on the beach?”

  They walked the beach until the sun set and when she said she was tired, Seth had her climb on his back, and he carried her to the bungalow. She was amazed that he seemed to do it with ease and never slowed his pace. He stopped once to pick up a beautiful seashell. He cleaned it off and handed it to her, and they were on their way again. When they returned to the bungalow, they sat on the deck again gazing at the moonlit sky while listening to sounds of the ocean. Morgan was fighting to keep her eyes open.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but when she opened her eyes, Seth was placing her gently in her bed. She looked up and smiled at him. He simply kissed her on the forehead and shut her door.

  * * *

  Over the course of the next few days Morgan told him about her life and her bookstore, which was near ruins. The pipes leaked, the plaster was crumbling, and the place needed rewiring, but she loved her store. She told him about her wacky assistant manager, Michelle, who thought of promotions to bring customers into the shop. Morgan didn’t have the stomach for it, but it seemed to give Michelle a sense of purpose. She admitted to him that, before Jason, she really hadn’t dated that much. She and Jason had grown up together and ran into each other one day at the grocery store. After hanging out a lot it had only seemed natural that they make it official and call it a relationship. He was a nice guy who had a life plan that he was adamant about following.