Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(21)

She pressed her thighs together and squirmed. Bobby Tom shifted his weight. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes and saw to her dismay that he was watching her instead of the screen. And he was no longer laughing.

“I have some work to do,” he said abruptly. “Turn it off whenever you want.” Snatching up his laptop computer, he stalked into the bedroom.

Gracie stared after him in bewilderment. Why had he gotten so grouchy all of a sudden? And then her gaze shot back to the screen.

Oh, my!



Bobby Tom stood in the darkened bedroom and stared blindly out the windows. In the background he could hear breathy moans coming from the television. Jesus. For the past six months he hadn’t been able to summon up the slightest bit of interest in making love with any of the beautiful women who dangled themselves in front of him like game trophies, but now Gracie Snow, with her skinny body, ugly clothes, the worst hairdo he’d ever seen on a female, and a bossy manner that set his teeth on edge, had given him a hard-on.

He rested his knuckles against the window frame. If it weren’t so ludicrous, he’d laugh. That movie wasn’t even close to hard-core pornography, but five minutes into it, she’d gotten so turned on that a bomb could have exploded in there and she wouldn’t have noticed.

For a moment when he was watching her, he’d actually considered taking advantage of what she’d been all too ready to offer, and that was the stupidest thing of all. He was Bobby Tom Denton, for chrissake. He might be retired, but that didn’t mean he’d sunk so low he had to get it on with a charity case like Gracie Snow.

Turning his back to the window, he walked over to the desk, hooked the modem from his laptop computer into the telephone line, and sat down. But his hands fell still before he typed in the commands to access his electronic mail. He wasn’t in the mood to work on any of his business deals tonight.

He kept seeing the expression on Gracie’s face when she’d spotted the Mississippi River. How long had it been since he’d felt that kind of enthusiasm? All day, Gracie had pointed out things he’d ceased to notice years ago: a cloud formation, a truck driver who looked like Willie Nelson, a child waving at them through the rear window of the family van. When had he lost touch with ordinary pleasures?

He glanced down at his keyboard and remembered how much he used to enjoy wheeling and dealing. At first he’d played around in the stock market, but then he’d bought into a small sporting goods company. After that, he’d invested in a radio station followed by an athletic sneaker company. He’d made mistakes along the way, but he’d also made a lot of money. Now he couldn’t seem to remember what the point of it all had been. He’d thought that making a movie might be a good way to distract himself, but with shooting about to begin, he couldn’t work up much enthusiasm for that idea either.

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Tonight he’d promised Shag to help launch his new restaurant. He’d lent Ellie money and told A.J. he’d let his nephew interview him for his high school newspaper. To his way of thinking, a person who’d been star-kissed from the moment he was born didn’t have the right to say no, but sometimes he felt as if he was slowly suffocating from all the demands people made on him.

Now he had to go to Telarosa to make another payment on the debt he owed the small town that had nurtured him, and he’d gotten cold feet. Despite the fact that he was the one who’d insisted the filming take place there, he wasn’t ready to face all of them. He knew he was a has-been, but they wouldn’t have figured it out yet, and they were still going to want a piece of him.

His presence would stir things up, as it always did, and not everybody would welcome him with open arms. He’d had a nasty confrontation with Way Sawyer a few months back over Sawyer’s plan to move Rosatech, the electronics firm that supplied Telarosa with its economic lifeblood. The man was ruthless, and Bobby Tom didn’t look forward to seeing him again. He’d also have to deal with Jimbo Thackery, the town’s new chief of police and Bobby Tom’s enemy from grade school days. Worst of all, there would be a whole flock of women who had no idea that his sex drive had just about disappeared along with his football career, and, no matter what, he had to make certain they stayed ignorant.

He stared blindly down at the keyboard. What was he going to do with the rest of his life? He’d lived with glory for so long that he had no idea how to live without it. From childhood he’d always been the best: All-State, All-American, All-Pro. But he wasn’t the best any longer. Successful men weren’t supposed to face this kind of crisis until they retired in their sixties. But he’d retired at thirty-three, and he had no idea who he was any longer. He knew how to be a great wide receiver, he knew how to be the Most Valuable Player, but he had no idea how to be an ordinary human being.

A particularly prolonged female moan coming from the television interrupted his thoughts, and he frowned as he remembered he wasn’t alone. Genuine amusement had become increasingly rare in his life, which was why he’d kept Gracie Snow around for the day, but as he recalled his body’s reaction to her arousal, he no longer felt like laughing. Getting turned on by a charity case like Gracie was—in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely—somehow the final indignity, a tangible symbol of how far he’d come down in the world. Not that she wasn’t a real nice lady, but she definitely wasn’t Bobby Tom Denton material.