HOME. NO FOUR-LETTER word had ever sounded better, Genna Hastings thought as she maneuvered herself, careful of her sprained ankle, and her crutches out of her car. She stood up and took a deep breath of hyacinth-scented Connecticut air. Whack! Something hit her smack in the back of the head with the force of a Titan missile. Rubbing her head with one hand, she turned and stared down at the football that rocked harmlessly on the driveway beside her loafer-clad feet.
It was an appropriate ending to a thoroughly miserable vacation.
"Look out, Miss Hastings!" came the belated shout of one of the two boys pounding up the street toward her.
"Jeez, Miss Hastings, I'm sorry," said Brad Murray, stooping to scoop up the ball.
"Yeah, sorry, Genna," Kyle Dennison chimed in. Kyle was the chubby ten-year-old son of Genna's best friend, and so he felt entitled to call her by her first name. To Brad, she would always be his ex-kindergarten teacher. He would call her Miss Hastings for the rest of his life.
Kyle shrugged. "We didn't see you."
"That's a comfort," Genna grumbled to herself, wincing as she felt the goose egg rising on the back of her skull.
"Mom said you weren't coming home till Monday, and it's only Friday. Why aren't you still on vacation? We've been using your driveway for long-passing patterns. Hey, how come you're on crutches?"
"All that in one breath," Genna said with a teasing smile as she looked down at Kyle. "Vacation was a bust. I sprained my ankle playing tennis."
"Bummer."
"Really."
"We're waiting for J.J.," Brad said.
"Who's J.J.? New kid on the block?"
"J. J. Hennessy," they said in unison, staring at her expectantly.
Genna stared back at them. Was she missing the punch line of a joke, or what? "Am I supposed to gasp here, or scream or something? Who's J. J. Hennessy?"
The boys made sounds of disgust and rolled their eyes. Kyle collapsed onto the driveway and writhed around, holding his head.
"He's only the most awesome quarterback in the universe!" Brad raved.
"He's so excellent!" Kyle exclaimed, lying spread-eagled, flat on his back.
"And he's moved in right here!"
Genna looked at the lawn and house adjacent to the property she rented and felt suddenly as if someone had punched her in the stomach. The yard she had so admired had been cut in diagonal stripes. A dozen pink plastic flamingos lurked in the shrubbery, their long, craning necks poking up through boxwood and around juniper. Sitting in a lawn chair on the front porch of the lovely Federal-style house was a busty blond mannequin dressed in shorts and a tight pink T-shirt, one arm raised as if waving.
Genna sucked in a horrified breath. "Oh, my Lord."
"Cool, huh?" Brad said, mistaking her shock for awe.
Kyle struggled to his feet, nodding enthusiastically and tugging his T-shirt down over his pudgy tummy. "The mannequin's named Candy. Outrageous!"
"Oh, my Lord," Genna muttered again. What sort of cretin would commit such atrocities? she wondered. That house and yard were the epitome, the essence of Tory Hills. Quietly lovely, old, and treasured. Occupying a large lot in the middle of the treelined block, the house was painted a sedate shade of gray, with white trim around the multi-paned windows. The front entrance boasted a pillared portico and a graceful fanlight over the door. It was Genna's dream house. Now some tasteless moron had bought it.
The front door of the house swung open and Brad and Kyle went into a trance. They stared transfixed, as if they were awaiting a holy vision. Then J. J. Hennessy made his appearance.
Genna took one look at the man and despised him.
He swaggered across the lawn radiating arrogance like a furnace blasts heat. Over six feet of rippling muscle packaged in gray sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination but lewd fantasies, and wearing a torn black T-shirt that proclaimed him to be "God's Gift to Women," J. J. Hennessy appeared to be every inch the cocky, overbearing, aggressive male.
He nodded, looking down at his bare feet on the powder-blue rug. "They were broadsided on the driver's side. There was a lot of blood &hellip; " He swore softly. "I'd give anything for Alyssa not to have been in that car. I'd give anything to make the nightmares go away."
He turned his head to watch his daughter sleep. Genna thought he looked almost as vulnerable as Alyssa. This is the same man who was so strong and sure making love with you not two hours ago, she reminded herself. Her heart ached with love for him. She thought back to what he'd said about them being a team and team players sticking up for each other. She wanted to offer him support now, as he had done for her.
"You handled it really well," she said, meaning it.
"I do my best," he said with a sigh, wishing his best were good enough. Would Simone Harcourt's best be better? Or would she leave Alyssa alone at night to face the "bad dream" herself?
The trouble had been brewing for three days. Genna had seen it coming, had sensed the tension in the air, but had thought of no way to defuse the bomb.
Beginning the morning after the nightmare, Jared's darling daughter had turned into a tiny tyrant -- but only with Jared. She cheerfully obeyed Bernice and Genna, but defied her father at every turn. If he wanted a meal, she wasn't hungry. If he said it was day, she said it was night. She unfailingly did the exact opposite of what Jared asked of her. Where he was concerned, Alyssa was the most contrary creature on earth.
At first Jared let it slide. It was simply a bad mood on Alyssa's part. As the days passed and the mood seemed only to worsen, he began losing his patience. Genna watched helplessly as he became more confused and hurt and frustrated by his daughter's behavior. She had a pretty good idea what the root of the problem was, but Jared didn't want to hear advice on the subject. He was so determined to be a good father, he viewed the need for advice as a weakness on his part. So Genna forced herself to stand on the sidelines and wait for the battle.
Meanwhile, they worked on Jared's house. Pictures were hung, a dining room table and chairs purchased. A new set of china filled the shelves of the cupboard, along with crystal. Jared's football trophies and photos were put in an oak and glass cabinet near his desk in the spacious living room.
Genna tried to involve Jared as much as she could in making selections for the house. After all, it was his home. Even though he had asked her to do the job, she found herself feeling guilty about making the changes necessary to give Jared and his house a normal look. Jared's bizarre outfits and decorating ideas were part of who he was. Did anyone else really have the right to tell him to act otherwise? Still, it was his money, and he seemed sincere about changing his lifestyle.
"The mannequin has got to go," Genna said for the third time. She and Jared stood on the front porch arguing about lawn beauty. Having convinced him to get rid of most of the flamingos, she had held off on the issue of Candy, but Candy's day had come.
"Aw, come on, Gen! Candy and I have been together since college!"
Genna just looked at him, crossing her arms over her chest and impatiently tapping her sneakered foot. Jared tried staring her down, but she was, after all, a teacher -- one of the world's greatest stare-down artists. He glanced away, then back at her, a stirring of desire reminding him it had been too long since their first night together. She was so darn cute when she had that stubborn little tilt to her chin. She wore a pair of jeans that were almost white with age and carefully patched. They molded to her body as if they were in love with her. And she wore the same old navy polo shirt she'd had on the night they'd made out on her kitchen floor.
"Aw, come on, Gen," he pleaded, turning her to face him. "I love you. Alyssa loves you. My family loves you. My dog loves you. My brother's a priest; we'll get a discount on the ceremony."
She frowned at him, but her heart was racing fast enough to break the land speed record. "Was there really a page two?"
Jared took her hand in his and raised it to his chest, tracing an X with her fingers over the silk of his shirt. "Cross my heart."
She pressed her palm flat, feeling the strong, regular rhythm of his heartbeat. Her eyes locked on his. "So where is it?"
"Beats me. I left it on my desk with page one and your check."
"Finally something makes sense! That desk of yours should be declared a national disaster area."
"I promise to clean it if you say yes."
"You'll probably find Jimmy Hoffa," she said dryly.
"I'll set fire to it as soon as I find that blasted page."
Genna grinned. "Maybe we could get your dad to blow it up."
He laughed, relief washing over him. She was going to say yes; he could feel it. He'd find that confounded note, have it framed, and give it to Genna for a wedding gift.
"You actually proposed to me on a piece of scrap paper?" she asked, looking less than pleased with him.
Jared had the grace to look sheepish.
"What a lousy proposal, Hennessy."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time. In retrospect, it stinks. You should have heard what Amy had to say about it." He winced in remembrance as he traced one finger along the delicate V of Genna's collarbone. "My ears are still ringing. She said I'd better come up with something pretty good to make it up to you."
Genna's eyes landed on the table at center field and the waiter who had wheeled out a tray with covered dishes on it. Her gaze found Jared's, and she smiled. "This is pretty special."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet," he said with a grin. He took a step away from her and waved up at a set of windows on the second deck. The scoreboard came to life again as the organist played "Let Me Call You Sweetheart." Cartoon brides and grooms marched across the enormous lighted board, then disappeared.
GENNA, I LOVE YOU MORE THAN A SUNDAY WITH
NO INTERCEPTIONS
I LOVE YOU MORE THAN A WIN AT THE SUPER BOWL
I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ROOT BEER
I LOVE YOU
A little football player ran across the screen, stopping in the center and giving an exaggerated shrug. The next line chased him away.
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
WILL YOU BE MY TEAMMATE FOR THE GAME OF
LIFE?
SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES!
SAY YES!
Genna pressed her hands to her cheeks. Tears shimmmered in her eyes. She took in the entire scene: the stadium, the table, Stephan the waiter, Otis and Brutus, the scoreboard, the corny sound of the organ. Jared, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He'd gone to a lot of trouble and she'd love him for it until the day she died.
Jared's sexy smile teased his mouth as he looked down at her. His blue eyes glittered like jewels. The stadium lights turned his diamond earring into a prism of brilliant colors. "I feel it only fair to warn you, I'm going to run that at every home game until you say yes."
She laughed out loud and let him take her in his arms, her fingers sliding up the lapels of his suit jacket to tease the back of his neck.