Page 34 of Playing Santa

“If it was just me, Sean, I swear I’d be all over you if just for the fun of it. But how can I gamble with Jimmy’s heart on something so far-fetched as a relationship with you. It’s not going to last more than…” she waves a hand.

What she says is only half bad, but I pay attention to what worries her most because it’s what worries me most too.

“You’re right to worry about Jimmy getting attached to someone who might disappear and disappoint him. But I swear on my family’s bible that I’m not that guy.”

Her eyes narrow and she frowns, about to call me on crazy promises, but I stop her.

“I’m not saying I’m promising you the moon and forever, I’m saying I’m perfectly capable of being there for Jimmy as a family friend or mentor no matter what happens between us. I like Jimmy. A lot. He has that kind of enthusiasm that reminds me of myself as a kid. He has a good heart. And it doesn’t hurt that he has a beautiful mother—beautiful inside and out—but that’s a bonus, not the only thing I see in your son.”

“Mentor? What do you mean?”

“I run a program with my brothers in the off-season for young boys and girls—”

“You mean a charity?”

“It’s a program to give kids who wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to learn things and do things. We have camps for football and other sports and science, cooking—you name it. We take them on trips. We’re based here in East Boston and in the town where my family lives in Texas. When the kids are away from home, we require one family member to accompany them. We’re sensitive about making it a family thing.”

“Sounds… amazing.”

“I’d love Jimmy to be part of the program.”

She nods. I take her in my arms and ask, “Do you think he’ll go along with it?” I nudge her earlobe with my nose, taking in her soft warm feel and scent, the fine hairs at her temple tickling me, shooting desire straight to my previously patient dick.

She quietly chuckles. “If you’re there, I think he would leave me behind without a backwards glance.”

“I doubt that’s true. Besides, you’ll have to come with him. Unless he joins our day camp at the stadium right here in East Boston. We run a two week football program there in the summer.”

She rests her head against my chest then, right over my heart, making it hammer like crazy. Then she wraps her arms around me. That’s all the encouragement I need. I envelop her, pulling her hard against me.

“Trust me to spend the night?” I say. She looks up at me and I see that look in her eyes reflecting how I feel, elemental need bypassing whatever else had been standing in the way.

When she lifts her chin and slips a hand up my back, raking her fingers through my hair, I lower my mouth to hers and take it. Somehow we make it to my bedroom.

I’m not fool enough to think everything is settled between us, but the chemistry between us takes over and we fall into my bed. Her greedy hands are on my zipper and my hands find her wet and ready, but something stops me. I stop her, putting my hand over hers.

“Wait. This doesn’t feel right,” I say, part devil and all sincere. “I can’t do this with you refusing to go to the game.”

“What?” She pushes at my hand to tug at the zipper again.

“I’m serious, Ronnie.” Because I need this much to be settled, to know we can move forward one more step after tonight, that she’s not going to shut me out again tomorrow.

She stops and searches my face, her mouth kiss-swollen and her glassy eyes like a mirror blue lake.

“Are you saying you won’t have sex if Jimmy and I don’t go to the game?” Her expression is incredulous, but softens when I nod my head, little nerves kicking up uncomfortable spikes in my gut.

“I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve, Ronnie. I want you. I’m crazy about you and I don’t care about any of the other stuff you’re trying to throw up between us. Come to the game as my guest and have some fun. Have dinner with me afterwards. That’s all I’m asking. We can take the rest one step at a time.”

“I… you’re such an unfair bastard,” she says, but the desire in those striking eyes and her hand on my cock take the edge off her assessment. “Okay. Fine.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, stripping my shirt off, “Nothing bad is going to happen just going to one football game. No one is going to hold it against you as long as you don’t hold it against yourself.”

She snorts and pushes at my pants and the time for talking is over.

* * *

The Christmas Eve game almost ends in a tie, but I have a chance with four seconds on the clock to win it. The catch is that I have to kick a fifty-nine-yard field goal. Which I’ve never done before. In spite of the clouds of cold air puffing from my mouth with each breath, I’m warm after pacing on the sidelines and kicking a few dozen balls into a net.

The ref’s whistle blows and the crowd buzzes.