More than the Game by Jenni Bara

6

@ETWeekly:Can anyone let us know who’s the blonde that has @HotShotDemoda enchanted? Those pics on the beach are too cute not to have a name for that face! #mysteryblonde

Beth’s crappy morning started with a sharp kick in the face courtesy of her daughter. Since some of the guys stayed over and stole her bed, she’d fallen into Mandy’s bed around three and it wasn’t even seven yet, but it was time to start her day. She took a quick shower before throwing on a tank top and sweats.

Five kids needed breakfast, and they all needed to get ready for church. Her parents were coming from DC to meet her and her sister, who had returned home from LA last night. After the service, her brothers, a few friends, and her family were coming over to celebrate Mandy’s third birthday. That meant she had to get the kids ready for church and get the kitchen cleaned up from last night.

When the doorbell rang at eight, both the disturbance and the fact that Clayton didn’t shut the gate when she kicked him out a half-hour ago irritated her. He stayed over last night but he was definitely going to go back and get ready for church like the rest of them. If she had to suffer through extra time with her father, so did they.

“Steve, can you get the door? Everyone else to the table. We need to get breakfast.” Beth headed for the kitchen for another cup of coffee. “What do we want to eat?”

“Bagels,” Steve called across the room.

“Steve, I don’t have time.” But the words died on her lips as Marc walked into the house.

“I brought breakfast,” he announced, handing Steve a brown paper bag. “There’s a dozen. I wasn’t sure how many kids would be here since they multiply every time I come.”

The kids seated at the table cheered as Steve brought the bag over. Each quickly dug in, fighting to get their bagel, none of them the least bit bothered by Marc’s unexpected appearance. They were used to their uncles showing up uninvited. So was Beth, but Marc wasn’t family.

His dimples flashed as he stepped toward her. Beth’s eyes were bloodshot from too much beer and not enough sleep. She didn’t have a drop of makeup on, was wearing sweats, and hadn’t bothered to brush her hair. And Marc was standing there in khakis and a polo shirt, looking bright-eyed and perfect. She suppressed a groan; she wasn’t even wearing a bra.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s good to see you too,” Marc said with a chuckle, but when she rolled her eyes, he added, “I thought we should talk, and I brought you this.” He passed over a bag, and she eyed him suspiciously. “I felt bad about your phone.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

Inside the bag was a box with a picture of the latest iPhone. Beth hadn’t thought about her phone this morning, except to be grateful it wasn’t beeping with a new text message every minute.

“I brought your old one with me last night when I got this. Since I’m me, one autograph convinced the guy to switch the old crap phone for the new one on your plan and set up your phone. It’s good to go.” Again, this didn’t seem like a big deal to him.

“How did you have my phone?” Beth set the bag on the counter and rubbed her forehead a few times with her fingers.

“Danny let me take it last night when I told him I wanted to replace it.”

“Uh, thanks,” Beth said, not sure what to make of this. He was openly admitting to stealing her phone and hacking her account.

“I didn’t notice Twitter on your phone or Instagram?” Marc said hesitantly. Apparently, he didn’t have issues with being nosey either.

“I don’t do social media. The idea of trending is my worst nightmare,” Beth said a bit too sharply, and Marc swallowed hard. Snapping wasn’t fair. “I appreciate you did this.” And she did; nosiness aside, it was nice of him to take care of it for her. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d bother.” Everything she knew about Marc told her he was so self-absorbed that he wouldn’t have remembered that he ruined her phone, let alone spent the time and effort to replace it.

Marc stared at her before leaning his muscular forearms onto the counter, bringing his offended eyes down to her level.

“Exactly how did I give you such a poor opinion about me? Was it fixing your dishwasher, cleaning up the dishes after dinner the other night, or playing baseball with the kids? I know I wasn’t at my best when I asked you out, but I apologized.”

He laid the guilt on heavy. And really, this Marc didn’t jibe with the guy the media made him out to be.

“I’m sorry,” Beth said. “I know it isn’t fair to believe everything you hear about someone.” She’d grown up knowing that.

“No, it’s not. I can’t control all the tweets about me,” Marc agreed. Then he walked over to the breakfast table.

She watched as he joined the kids’ laughter and helped break her niece’s bagel in half. Steve told Marc about his game the other night and his improved fastball; Marc praised him and said maybe they could work on it again sometime. Who exactly was this man?

“Marc?” Beth called. He looked over at her from where he was squatting next to her nephew, scraping some cream cheese off his bagel. “You want some coffee?”

“That would be nice.” His dimpled smile implied forgiveness. He finished the bagel before coming back to her. She handed him the coffee and pulled the creamer out for him, but he shook his head. “Black is good.” He took a sip.

“Thank you. For the bagels and the phone. It was more than you needed to do.” Beth smiled at him, and he looked at her over the top of his coffee cup.

“Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming on?” he asked.

“Because right now I’m not in a good place to have a high-profile relationship.” For a split-second, guilt flashed across Marc’s face, but he recovered.

“I’m not looking for that. We can keep this to ourselves—more like a casual thing.” He smiled at her like it was that easy.

“Marc, you’re a paparazzi favorite. You are the definition of high-profile. Nothing about you could be on the QT,” Beth sighed in exasperation, and Marc glanced away, not meeting her eyes. She didn’t want to feel guilty for disliking his fame, which at this point, he might not even be able to control. Fame took on a life of its own quickly. “When was the last time you had a casual quiet fling?” Beth asked, giving him a chance to prove her wrong.

“Define fling.” Marc’s mouth twisted into something that was almost a smile.

“Same woman for a couple of weeks.”

Marc took another sip of his coffee. “Never. But I’ve never wanted that either.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “What is it exactly you want from me?”

He muttered something—it might have been, “damned if I know,” but she wasn’t sure. Marc set his coffee mug back on the counter.

“My best guess,” he said finally, “is that you make me work for everything. No one else ever has. I have to work to get your attention, and when I finally do, I feel like I earned it and I like that. Honestly, I keep figuring you’re going to start falling all over me, and then I’ll move on, but you don’t, and neither do I.”

Beth laughed.

“You don’t have the competition of the game anymore, so you’re looking for a challenge somewhere else?”

At least he had the decency to look embarrassed by her question.

“Thank you for coming over and for replacing my stuff, but Marc, you’ll never be able to hide who you’re dating.” She knew that firsthand. Marc met her eyes, then glanced away again. “I’m sure there’s another woman out there who isn’t interested in you—why don’t you make it your mission to find her? I have to get the kids dressed, teeth brushed, hair done, and shoes on to meet my parents, and now I only have about an hour to do it.”

“I’m here, and I can tie a tie and a shoe. Let me help.” Marc flashed his dimples at her again and Beth sighed. “I heard you loud and clear: I’m the last thing you need. But it looks to me that maybe a second set of hands is something you could use. Let me help you get the rugrats ready, and then I’ll go.”

She wasn’t sure why he wanted to stay. She almost thought he might be buttering her up for something, but Beth couldn’t imagine what, so she gave in. He cleaned the table, then wiped hands and faces so they were no longer white with cream cheese while she brushed the kids’ teeth. She helped everyone get dressed; Marc tied the three boys’ ties, helped them with their belts, and everyone with their shoes. She did the girls’ hair in braids, and he did the boys’ hair. They were finished, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock.

Man, it was nice to have another set of hands around.

“We make a pretty good team,” Marc said as she walked him out the door.

“We do,” Beth said as she shut the door behind her, leaving the kids inside. She leaned against the side of the house as she spoke to him. “But Marc, I don’t think you’re hearing me. I’m flattered by the attention, but…”

His hand came up and rested next to her head as he leaned in closer, blowing her train of thought. A mix of soap and warm-blooded male filled her nose as he invaded her personal space.

“But?” Marc encouraged, and put his other hand on her shoulder. He let his fingers rub her tense muscles, and her heart pumped faster. God, did those warm hands feel good. Million-dollar hands, she reminded herself.

“I’m not interested in anything starting between us.” She sounded a little breathless as his thumb moved up her neck to find her pulse, which was now racing. A warm tingle filled her belly as she savored another breath of him.

“So you’ve said.” Marc leaned closer as his hand moved behind her neck. “I’m just not sure I believe you.”

She tried not to moan as he softly kissed her neck. Little electric pulses danced across her skin anywhere his lips touched. She knew she shouldn’t move to give him better access, but when he nudged her head back, she did. His jaw was smooth like he’d just shaved, and it glided against her neck as his warm lips moved to find her pulse once more. She swallowed another moan. This needed to stop. Now.

“Marc, wait,” she murmured breathlessly.

“Wait, what?” he asked, pulling back slightly and resting both hands on the wall on either side of her face.

“I know I’m sending mixed signals, but I mean it when I say this can’t happen.” Beth didn’t want to have to tell him who she was. And dating him would cause a media frenzy she was desperate to avoid.

“Why?” He was so close. His breath danced on her lips as he spoke.

“Does it matter?” Beth asked warily.

“Probably not.” A smirk touched the corners of his mouth.

“Please.”

His brown eyes burned into her, making her feel like she wanted to squirm.

“Kiss me, and I’ll leave,” he said finally.

“What?”

“I want your mouth. I want to feel it on mine, and after that, if you want me to go, I’ll go.” He raised his eyebrows, sending her a look full of challenge. Did he think if she kissed him, she’d melt, and tell him she would see him again? She could kiss him and then tell him to go. Maybe a good kiss would get him out of her system.

He waited, putting the ball in her court. She lifted a hand, cupping his smooth cheek before reaching behind his neck, pulling his face towards hers. That was all the encouragement he needed. He took possession of her mouth with his. His palm slid to her hips, angling his body closer as his lips moved softly against hers, coaxing her to open for him.

The second her lips parted, and her tongue touched his, he opened his mouth with a groan, and his tongue moved in search of hers. The kiss quickly went from soft to hot and wet. With sweeping motions, his tongue teased her, driving up her heart rate. Beth’s breathing became rough. His hand moved down to find her breast, possessing it like it was his, like he had every right. His thumb moved slowly back and forth over her breast through the thin cotton of her shirt and the throbbing beat deep inside her. She dropped her head back and couldn’t help the moan that escaped. He quickly took advantage of her exposed neck, moving his lips down before nipping on her shoulder.

“God, Beth, I want you. It’s not about the challenge. You’re amazing,” Marc said into her neck before he moved back to her mouth. He deepened the kiss, devouring her like he was starving.

His touch ignited a fire in Beth. It had been so long since she’d felt this way about someone. Desire swept hot through her, making her forget where they were. She yanked his shirt from his waist and pressed against the stiff muscles of his abs, which she had been imagining ever since he’d tossed her over his shoulder last night. His warm skin was made rough only by a small line of hair leading down to his belt. He shuddered under her hands, then pushed her hard against the side of the house, grinding his hips into her pelvis. The level of passion and desire coursing between them was unlike anything she had experienced before, and she let herself ride its wave.

“Elizabeth!” A familiar voice called her name, the snapping of cameras echoing behind it.

She pulled back, but Marc planted his hands firmly on her waist and twisted, blocking her from the people and cameras coming up the driveway. He moved smoothly, with an expertise that said he’d done this before. Beth hadn’t heard any of the three cars pull into the driveway. She’d been utterly oblivious.

She rested her head against Marc’s chest and groaned. How had she let this happen? What was she thinking? Right—she wasn’t. His lips had touched hers and thought went right out the window.

“Please play along until we get inside.” Beth heard the desperation in her own voice. Marc looked down with half-lidded eyes and nodded before wiping his lips with a fist. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled before pushing him away and turning to the group in front of her.

“Daddy!” Beth said. She walked down and threw her arms around her father, the current secretary of state.

“Marc,” Beth said softly. On the off chance her father hadn’t instantly recognized Marc, he’d be able to drop his name for the reporters behind him.

“Marc, my boy, good to see you. I was so glad when Elizabeth told me you would join us this morning.” Her father smacked Marc’s back in a friendly gesture that suggested the two men knew each other well.

No one would have guessed that the secretary of state was about to rip into his daughter as soon as they got through the door.