- Home
- Laurie Winter
Home Field Page 2
Home Field Read online
Page 2
Reagan stepped into the ballroom and took in the view. The room stretched on and on, the white marble floor extended out to a wall of windows, which overlooked an emerald green golf course. The large mural painted on the wall by the dance floor showed a deep woods illustration, reminding him of his favorite hunting spot back home. Sunlight filtered through the windows, adding to the cheerful atmosphere.
The men strode over to the highly polished walnut bar. “Double whiskey on ice,” Reagan told the bartender.
“Yes, sir.” The young man quickly went about pouring the drink and slid it across the smooth wood toward Reagan’s waiting hand.
The beveled shape of the glass fit his hand like a comfortable friend.
“Make that two,” DeMarcus said. Soon, they both held cold glasses of amber liquid.
Reagan swallowed the liquor, which quickly went to work. A warm relaxation filled his body, starting from his stomach and radiating outward. His sore muscles immediately loosened. He glanced around the room, full of his teammates, both old and new, along with coaches and other Warriors staff. Mixed throughout the crowd were military service members, active duty and retired, many in full uniform.
After the off season, seeing the team back together felt good. For better or worse, they were a family. Sometimes a dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless. The start of every season brought new members, working for their place. And old vets, like him, who balanced their time between mentoring the newbies and fighting to keep them from taking their hard-won spot on the team.
Standing around a large sign at the far end of the room were several of his teammates, locating their assigned tables on the chart.
When Reagan and DeMarcus walked up to the group, DeMarcus found his name and scoffed at the placement. “Why do I get stuck at a table with Coach Grant and some rookies?” he asked the group. “I never bother to learn their names until after training camp. What’s the point, if in the end they get sent packing?”
“That’s exactly why they put you at the rookie table,” answered a man’s deep voice.
Robert Pappas looked like a giant teddy bear, but Reagan knew better. He was one of the best offensive linemen in the league. You were in for a fight if you played against him, or stood in his way at the food line. “Big Pappy.” Reagan extended his hand.
The two men shook hands, a greeting of mutual respect.
“How about Coach Perry laying into Josh today?” Robert asked with a deep chuckle. “I thought he would cut him right then and there.”
DeMarcus shook his head. “Man, I don’t know how many times you can drop the ball and still expect to play professional football?”
Reagan smiled at the memory. “My pounding him into the ground over and over might be responsible for Josh’s lack of success.” Training camp was rough, and every guy played for himself. Josh might be his teammate, but on the practice field, Reagan’s job was to make him pay for his mistakes.
“You here alone?” Robert asked Reagan. “No hot date tonight?”
Shaking his head, Reagan laughed and looked around the room. “No date…flying solo. I’m a sucker for a woman in uniform.” In reality, dating was the last thing on his mind. No time. And, he already had a girlfriend, well sort of, if that’s what you’d call Brynn. She was more like a pretty distraction. Most women didn’t want to play second to his passion for football, and his football career would always take top priority. He’d learned over the years to keep his relationships easy and light, especially after what had happened with Sarah.
“Only you would pick up women at a military appreciation banquet.” Robert shook his head in amusement.
Realizing the event was about to begin, the small assembly of players broke apart. Most went to find their wives or girlfriends to escort them to their tables. Reagan started toward his assigned table situated across the room by the wall of windows. After stopping to talk with a few service members, he was approached by a Marine who was missing his left leg and awkwardly standing on crutches. The young man didn’t even look old enough to buy a drink. He imagined himself in that situation and shuddered.
“Excuse me,” the Marine said to Reagan, his face lit with awe. “I just wanted to tell you I’m a big fan. You’re amazing, the way you run down the other team’s quarterback. Like you’re breathing dragon fire.”
“I try to earn my nickname every time I step onto the field. But you’re the real hero, man. Thank you for your service and your bravery.” He gave the guy’s shoulder a squeeze. Men like this US Marine, one who barely needed to shave, gave him pause. During the same months Reagan was out trying to score, both on and off the field, this young man had sacrificed a lot, including his leg, in service to his country.
Pride flushed on the guy’s face, and he started hobbling back over to his seat.
A glance over at his assigned table showed it was almost full. Reagan noticed two other Warriors players, along with their wives, and three service members and their guests were already seated. Beside the only empty chair, he saw a mass of curly red hair, pulled up to reveal a feminine, ivory neck that led down to delicate shoulders draped in black. The woman appeared to be sitting without a partner, and the thought of being next to her made his chest tighten. He’d spent time in the company of some of the world’s most beautiful women. Why was this one making his nerves ping with anticipation?
As he pulled out his chair to sit, the faint smell of roses washed over him, and when the woman turned slightly to face him, he realized his body’s initial reaction had been correct. His suit jacket tugged at his shoulders, like it had suddenly shrunk, now feeling four sizes too small. He lifted his hand to loosen the knot of his tie.
Her light auburn hair was pulled away from her face, but a few wavy pieces refused to stay in place. This woman was incredibly attractive, with caramel-colored freckles sprinkled over her nose and high cheekbones. Her large blue-green eyes gave him an uneasy look, but rosy lips offered a slight smile. Reagan set down his glass on the table, realizing his night had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter Two
Julie felt the man’s presence before she saw him. His deep voice couldn’t be missed, even over the hum of the crowd. She realized he meant to sit in the empty chair next to her, and a shiver traveled over her skin. The chair slid back, and Julie turned to get a look at who’d she’d be sitting beside for the next hour. From her seated position, he towered over her. Well over six feet tall, he had a solid build that looked somewhat dangerous. Her second impression was he was way too good-looking and seemingly well aware of that fact.
“Hi.” He flashed a million-dollar smile as he sat. “I’m Reagan Harrison.”
“Hello.” Her voice cracked, suddenly flustered by his closeness. Her heart pounded as fast as a hummingbird’s wings in her chest. “My name is Julie Ellis. It’s nice to meet you.” When she reached over to shake his hand, she noticed he smelled of peppermint. Maybe from the muscle rub athletes were so fond of or the lingering scent of gum. For some reason, she found the smell relaxed her strained nerves. His large, rough hand embraced hers, holding firm and warm. The contact made her body buzz. Startled by her reaction, she tugged back slightly.
He let it drop. “You here alone?” His wide mouth curved in a grin.
“Yes,” she answered with an ache in her heart. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t be here alone.
“You can’t be a member of the Warriors team, because I definitely would’ve remembered seeing you on the practice field. You must be a member of the military.” His smile widened while his gaze roamed down her neck, before lingering on her breasts.
Seriously…is this guy for real? Her face tightened, and she crossed her arms over her chest, before noticing she’d inadvertently lifted her cleavage, giving him an even better show. Sighing, she lowered her hands, where they sat clenched on her lap. “My husband was a member of the Army Special Forces, a Green Beret,” she said in a tight voice. “He was killed in Afghanistan last yea
r. John grew up in Timber Lake, and I was invited to represent him. He was a huge fan of the Warriors football team.”
Reagan’s easygoing smile evaporated, his lips now firmly pressed in a tight line. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He turned his attention to the glass of whiskey on the table before him.
“Thank you.” She softened slightly as he acted like he understood the reason she came by herself, which wasn’t to be hit on by an oversexed football player.
The sudden sound of laughter from across the table captured their attention.
Julie sat quietly and observed the wide variety of people with them. She was an outsider here…and very much alone. Reagan must have felt bad about their earlier, awkward exchange, because he began making introductions, helping her feel at ease.
The other Warriors players at their table all sat beside an elegant woman. She wondered why Reagan had come alone tonight, imagining he would have no trouble finding a date. He possessed a magnetic quality that she knew other women would find irresistible. Judging by his demeanor, he was well aware of his affect on them.
Reagan glanced over and caught her eye, another warm smile spreading over his handsome face. A smile that could bring a weak woman to her knees. His bright blue eyes sparkled with a vibrant light as he held her gaze. Before looking at the approaching waiter, she observed his sandy blond hair was slightly overgrown and unruly. The light stubble covering his strong jaw line revealed he’d been too busy to shave. The carefree look didn’t match his clean-cut suit and tie. She pictured him being more comfortable kicking back in shorts and a T-shirt.
The waiter made his way around the table and approached Julie, asking for her drink order. “May I have a glass of wine, please? Do you have Riesling?”
The waiter nodded and turned to Reagan. “Another double whiskey on ice.” Reagan pointed to his empty glass. The waiter scurried off to the bar to fill their requests.
“I can’t get into wine, but could be I’ve never given it a chance.”
“Wine is my best friend after a long day. I see you prefer whiskey. One taste makes my stomach turn. A bad experience…many, many years ago.” Her stomach turned sour as she remembered the feeling of whiskey churning up her insides and the hangover that followed.
“Sounds interesting.” Reagan set his elbow on the table and leaned in her direction. “I’ve got to hear this.”
Did he really, or was he only being polite? Probably just being polite. Well, he had asked so she better oblige. Not like her story was anything too embarrassing. “One night during final exams, a group of us were bored and didn’t want to study. Someone suggested we play poker, and after every hand, the losers would take a shot of whiskey. Not being a very good card player, I lost every game. I don’t remember anything after the fifth hand.”
“One bad experience can ruin a drink forever. The body has a long memory.”
Yes. And those carefree, college days seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Reagan,” said a man in a blue suit sitting a few chairs over. “No date tonight, huh? Was Brynn busy? Last I heard you two were a hot item.”
“She’s off on some movie shoot, and I didn’t feel like tracking her down. Less complicated this way.”
Even though Julie was now chatting with the woman sitting to her right, she listened to every word of Reagan’s conversation. So, he dated the likes of Brynn Campbell, which made sense. A famous, beautiful woman to match Reagan’s own striking looks.
“Yeah, enjoy the freedom while you can,” the man said. “Sandy almost didn’t come tonight, because one of the kids is sick. She’s been checking her phone every five minutes.”
“I don’t know how you parents do it. Kids are way too much responsibility for me,” Reagan said, before turning his attention back to Julie.
Inside, Julie cringed. Men like Reagan didn’t see the value of children and, therefore, didn’t deserve them. They spent their lives too self-absorbed to be bothered with a child, only to never know the joy they missed.
Noticing the Warriors’ General Manager taking the podium, the conversations quieted. “Welcome, honored guests. The Warriors team is grateful to have this opportunity to acknowledge your service to our country. Through your brave sacrifice, we all enjoy the freedom you’ve afforded us. We would also like to thank the many family members who stay behind while their loved ones are away. The Hero’s Recognition Banquet is an opportunity for our organization to connect with the community. We’re pleased to have so many decorated service members in our midst. The Warriors appreciate your loyal support, even when you’re stationed thousands of miles away. I thank you for attending and hope you enjoy your evening.”
A round of applause followed, and servers brought out dinner plates.
After the speech, Reagan turned to face her. “That’s the man responsible for drafting me.” He motioned to the podium. “He’s a genius at picking players who best fit together. Each position needs depth. It’s what makes a team run smoothly throughout the season. With the team we have this year, we have a real shot at winning the Super Bowl.”
“My husband was a big fan of the Warriors, but I never understood the appeal. Watching overpaid, pampered athletes run around the field seems pointless,” she said without much thought, before sipping her wine. Realizing what she’d just said, she snapped her mouth shut. The whole table looked her way in stunned silence. She wanted to crawl under the table with embarrassment.
After a few seconds, an amused grin crept across Reagan’s face. “Why don’t you tell me what you really think?” he teased. “I understand how we get that reputation…we can act like a bunch of whiny overgrown children.”
The other people at their table laughed along with Reagan then returned to their previous conversations.
“Compared to a military member, we are definitely overpaid. To a military wife, I’m sure that fact doesn’t seem fair.”
He had no idea of the struggle to pay the monthly bills with a part-time paycheck and Army survivor benefits. She looked down, hiding her reddening face. “That wasn’t very nice of me to say. I’m sorry.” On her lap lay a gray piece of paper, folded into a wrinkled mess. Her bad habit of nervous hand wringing had created a mangled event program.
“It’s fine. You should hear the things fans yell while I’m standing on the sidelines. What you said would be considered kind.”
Raising her head, she met his gaze. Good grief…could it be humanly possible to be that good looking? Her proximity to Reagan had turned her brain to mush. Did he realize with one look he melted her from the inside out? Hope not.
The guy was being nice and making her feel included. Meanwhile, she continued to stick her foot in her mouth. “Since we’ve already established I don’t watch Warriors football, I need to ask…what position do you play?”
“I’m a linebacker. Basically, I make sure the opposing team’s offense can’t move the ball forward down the field. Not a very glamorous job and a bit rough…taking a pounding play after play. I may be a little crazy in the head, but I love the game.”
“He’s the reason our opponents have such a hard time scoring against us,” the man seated on the other side of Reagan said to Julie. “They hate to see him standing across the line of scrimmage. He’s a quarterback’s worst nightmare.”
“We all work as a team,” Reagan told her. “When the defensive line and linebackers do their job, the quarterback will have a tough time getting rid of the ball. We all work together to make an unbreakable chain.” While he was talking, he lined up various salt and pepper shakers, and other tableware, to demonstrate a typical defensive lineup.
Julie smiled at the passion in his voice when he talked about football. In some ways, his enthusiasm reminded her of John and how he had talked about his duties in the Army. He would’ve loved to be here and gotten a chance to meet the players he had enjoyed watching. He’d even followed the team while stationed in Afghanistan.
A dinner plate was placed before her. The food look
ed and smelled delicious. By now, her nervousness had given way to hunger. Made sense, considering she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Maybe that’s why she felt so lightheaded. Not because of the man sitting next to her. She savored everything on her plate—ahi tuna steak, with French green beans and red potatoes.
“Stop being humble,” another man said and turned to Julie. “This guy is the league’s sack leader. His nickname is Reagan the Dragon for a reason. The quarterback may be the knight in shining armor, but my man Reagan is the beast who hunts him down.”
The crowd around them laughed and nodded their heads.
“So, here comes a dumb question.” She looked hesitantly at Reagan, hating to sound like an idiot, again. “But what’s a sack? I really should have quizzed my son about football before I came.”
“I’m happy to help with your growing knowledge of football. A sack is tackling the quarterback when he still has possession of the ball. For the offense, sacks are not good because they lose yardage. They’ll have farther to go to get a first down.”
“I think I need to ask Aiden for a lesson. He’s seven and knows so much about football. He started playing on a peewee football team this summer. I really have no idea what’s going on during the games, so I just cheer along with the other parents. It’s really quite embarrassing.” Despite herself, she began to like talking to Reagan. Maybe, he wasn’t a mindless jock after all. What if he was just a regular, nice guy?
“Football’s a fun sport, I’m glad your son’s playing. What position is he?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Aiden’s the reason why I’m here tonight. Ever since he started playing football, he’s become the Warriors’ number one fan, just like his dad. He instructed me to get pictures with as many players as possible.”
“I can help. After dinner, I’ll take you around and introduce you to the guys on the team. Parading around the ballroom with such a beautiful woman will do my ego good.”