Bed of Roses Page 0,76

"Does he think it has eyes, radar?"

"You like soccer?"

She glanced at Jack. "Girls' Varsity at the Academy. All-State."

"Seriously?"

"Cocaptains," she added, wagging her thumb between herself and Parker.

"They were vicious." Laurel knelt on the grass beside Parker. "Mac and I would go to the games, and pity the opposition. Go on." She elbowed Parker. "Go on out and kick some ass."

"Hmm. Want to?" Emma asked Parker.

"Em, it's been a decade."

Emma boosted up to her knees so she could slap her hands on her hips. "Are you saying we're too old to take those losers and weak feet? Are you saying you have lost - your - edge?"

"Oh, hell. One goal."

"Let's score."

Like Parker, she slipped out of her sandals.

Fascinated, Jack watched the two women in their pretty spring dresses approach the field. There was discussion, some hoots, a few catcalls.

"What's up?" Mal sauntered over to study the two groups.

"Emma and Parker are going to kick some soccer ass," Laurel told him.

"No kidding? This ought to be interesting."

They took position on the grass in the floodlights, with Emma and Parker's team set to receive. The women glanced at each other, then Emma held up three fingers, then two. Parker laughed, shrugged. The ball sailed through the air. Emma two-fisted it to Parker, who took it on the bounce, and dodged her way through three opponents with a blur of footwork that had the earlier catcalls turning to cheers. She pivoted, feinted, then bulleted the ball cross-field to where Emma sprang to receive. She scored with a blurring banana kick that left the goalie openmouthed.

In unison, she and Parker shot up both arms and screamed.

"They always did that," Mac told the group. "No modesty at all. Go Robins!"

"Girls' soccer team," Carter explained. "State bird."

When Parker started to leave the field, Emma grabbed her arm. Jack heard her say, "One more."

Parker shook her head; Emma persisted. Parker gripped her skirt, held it out, and whatever Emma said in response made her former cocaptain laugh.

They took defense against an opposing team who had considerably more respect now. They fought, blocking, rejecting, pushing their opponents back.

Jack's grin spread when Emma shoulder tackled an opponent. And looked gorgeous doing it, he realized - and just a little fierce. A fresh wave of lust curled in his belly as she charged the player in possession. Her slide tackle - Jesus, just look at her! - had the teenager off balance with his instep pass. On alert, Parker leaped at the next hard, high kick, skirts flying as she sprang and executed a dead-on header.

"Well, well," Mal murmured.

"Interception!" Laurel cried out when Emma trapped the ball. "Woo!"

Emma avoided her opponents' attempts to regain the ball with a quick cut back. She bicycle kicked the ball back to Parker, who shot it between the goalie's legs.

Hands up, a scream, and Parker slung an arm around Emma's shoulders.

"Done?"

"Oh, so very done." Emma sucked in a breath. "No longer seventeen, but still. Felt righteous."

"Let's leave winners." They held up joined hands, bowed to applause, then deserted the field.

"Baby," Jack said as he grabbed Emma's hand to pull her back down to the grass, "you're a killer."

"Oh yeah." And she reached out for the bottle of water Mac offered. Before she could drink, her mouth was busy with Jack's.

The kiss earned more applause.

"I'm a slave," he murmured against her lips, "to a woman who can pull off an accurate bicycle kick."

"Really?" She scraped her teeth lightly over his bottom lip. "You ought to see my instep drive."

"Anytime. Anywhere."

At the edge of the field, Mal cut across Parker's path, offered one of the two beers he held. "Want?"

"No. Thanks."

Moving around him, she pulled a bottle of water out of one of the ice tubs.

"What gym do you use, Legs?"

She opened the bottle. "My own."

"Figures. You've got some moves. Play anything else?"

She took a slow sip of water. "Piano."

As she strolled away, he watched her over a lazy pull of his beer. L ATER, LAUREL SAT ON THE GRANTS' FRONT PORCH STEPS, elbows braced behind her, eyes half closed. The quiet rolled over her, as did the smell of the grass, the front garden. The spring stars showered down.

She heard the footsteps, kept her eyes closed. And hoped whatever guest was leaving would keep moving, and let her keep her solitude.

"Are you all right?"

No such luck, she thought, and opened her eyes to look at Del. "Yeah. I'm just sitting here."

"So I see."

He sat beside her.

"I said my bye-byes. Parker's still inside - or outside -