She knew what was coming with third down and four yards to go. First possession of the game was always a big deal, and Arizona would want to make a statement to San Francisco by making sure they didn’t get a first down. Tara could feel the pressure as surely as if she were the one responsible for getting the ball into the hands of a receiver.
Arizona was going to blitz.
Tara gripped the arms of the seat as Mick broke from the huddle and got in the shotgun position, took the snap, and rolled back. The blitz came, and his offensive line held. Mick fired off a long pass toward a receiver downfield.
He caught it! Twenty-two-yard gain.
“Breathe, honey,” Roseanne said, rubbing Tara’s shoulders. “It’s going to be a long game.”
Tara laughed. Then exhaled.
The first quarter was tense, with the Sabers putting seven points on the board in their first possession, and Arizona answering with a touchdown of their own right after. But then things settled down a bit, and by halftime the game was tied ten to ten. In the second half Mick came out and threw completion after completion, and the running game looked solid. The defense held, and the Sabers put points on the board. The game ended up being one-sided, with San Francisco coming out victorious. Being preseason, Mick didn’t play the entire game, so by the end of the third quarter Tara could relax, though she still rooted for the team.
After the game was over and the crowds had filed out of the stadium, the team gathered with wives and families for a barbecue right on the field, something Nathan was very excited about.
Tara was just happy to get the nail-biting tension of the game over with. Now she could relax.
Or so she thought, since they’d no more gotten down to the field when she saw Elizabeth heading her way, though how the woman could maneuver the turf in those four-inch heels was something Tara just couldn’t fathom. Elizabeth clearly did not know the meaning of the word casual. Meanwhile, Tara was quite comfortable in her team jersey, jeans, and tennis shoes, and her lips lifted when she saw Elizabeth’s disapproval.
“Tailgating today, Tara?”
Tara was so glad Nathan had met some of the other players’ kids around his own age and he and Bobby had already run off to hang with them so he didn’t have to put up with Elizabeth’s disdain.
“As a matter of fact, I am. Right now. You seem a little overdressed for it. Be careful you don’t break an ankle sinking into the turf.”
“I can walk just fine. I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Really? Why is that?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Just figured you’d be out of your league by now. Or Mick would be bored with you. Trust me, honey. It’s only a matter of time. I’ll keep luring him in with beautiful women, and sooner or later he’s going to bite.”
Tara crossed her arms. “If you think he’s that shallow, have fun fishing.”
Tara spotted Mick coming onto the field, so thankfully she moved away from Liz and headed over to him, put her arms around him, and hugged him. “Great game today.”
He grinned. “Not bad. We have some things to work on, but it’s promising.”
“I thought you looked awesome. Your arm is strong, and your pass percentage was top-of-the-line.”
He arched a brow, then kissed the tip of her nose. “Keeping track of my stats now?”
“Only in my head.”
“Where’s Nathan?”
“He’s hanging out with D’Juan and Anthony’s sons. They play football, too, so Nathan and Bobby have made some new friends.”
Mick nodded. “Good. I’m starving. Let’s go find food.”
The barbecue was wonderful, as were the people, who welcomed her as if she and Mick were a permanent couple. Tara couldn’t have asked for a better night for her or for Nathan, though she was still a little worried about Nathan getting attached to everyone.
At this point there was nothing much she could do about it. Her relationship with Mick was either going to work out or it wasn’t, and she couldn’t shield Nathan from the fallout if it didn’t. At this point she had two choices. She could fling herself headlong into whatever she had with Mick and hope for the best, or she could cut and run.
She was scared of option one because the chances of her and Nathan both getting hurt were so great. But option two just wasn’t acceptable to her. Mick was part of her life now, and walking away from him would devastate her.
So what the hell was she supposed to do?
For tonight, she ate dinner and tried to enjoy herself, which was damned hard to do, considering her gaze kept drifting to Elizabeth, who seemed to be having a major talk with team owner Irvin Stokes. And in the middle of that conversation, Liz kept pointing to her, then whispering to Mr. Stokes.
Great. Just great. Tara could only imagine what lies Elizabeth was making up about her. Was she putting words in Mr. Stokes’s ear about what a bad influence Tara was on Mick? Would she tell the team owner that getting Tara out of Mick’s life would be the best thing he could do for the future of the team?
Panic set in when Elizabeth hooked her arm in Mr. Stokes’s and both of them headed their way.
“Damn,” Tara whispered.
“What’s wrong?”
“Liz is bringing Irvin Stokes over here.”
“Why is that a problem?” Mick shoved the remnants of his cheeseburger in his mouth, then wiped his hands with his napkin and grinned. “Hey, Irvin.”
Irvin Stokes was a billionaire who’d made his money in the financial markets. He was a shrewd businessman, and even though he was creeping up close to eighty years old, he still looked fit, with a head filled with silvery hair and a suit that probably cost more than Tara made in a year.
“Excellent start to the season, Mick.”
Stokes stuck out his hand, and Mick shook it. “Thanks. The team looks strong. You managed to bring in some solid players to the defense.”
Stokes nodded. “Our free agent signings seemed to shore up our only weaknesses, so I expect great things this year.” He turned to Tara. “And this is your new lady? Elizabeth has been telling me about you.”
She didn’t even want to know what Liz had been saying. Tara shook his hand. “Tara Lincoln.”
“Oh, yes. You did our party a couple months ago. Very nice. I was pleased with how it turned out.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stokes.”