Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down Read online

  “That’s more like it. Now, come help me get the rooms ready. We’ve got a busy few days ahead of us.”

  Savannah took her daughter’s hand and together they left the kitchen. But as they went up the steps leading to the guest wing, Savannah couldn’t shake the nervous tension that had nothing to do with her impending nuptials, and everything to do with a certain ex–football player.

  Chapter Two

  Donovan awoke abruptly, his gaze shooting to the clock. Eight p.m. Damn, he’d fallen back asleep, and here he’d told his old high school buddy Meat that he would stop by The Jiggle Room, where Meat bartended, so that they could catch up on old times. He pointed his feet toward the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would rouse him.

  An hour later, Donovan found himself with a drink in his hand before his ass hit the barstool. He gave his old high school chum an up-yours salute with his glass and took a swig.

  Meat, otherwise known as Herschel Dubrowski, stood behind the bar staring at Donovan with a stupid grin that told Donovan his old friend was up to something he wasn’t going to like.

  He banged the glass down on the bar and coughed. “Jesus, what did you put in here? Acid?”

  “I should have, you old shithead,” Meat retorted in that slow drawl that made most people think he was 340 pounds of pure stupidity. He was a good three inches taller than Donovan at six-six, with arms and legs as stout as tree trunks and a belly that was the first thing that hit an opponent.

  “So what took you so long?” Meat said, refilling Donovan’s glass in preparation for another walloping hangover that he undoubtedly should avoid but wouldn’t.

  “I was detained by an unknown female in my bed.”

  Meat laughed, clearly not surprised. “That would be Janette.”

  “Somehow I suspect you know how she ended up there?”

  Meat smiled broadly. “I gave her your address. Nick and I thought you might like some company. The gal does loves football players, even a broke-down cracker like you.”

  “This broke-down cracker can still kick your fat rump.”

  “You could never kick my fat rump. But I’ll let you keep on deluding yourself.”

  A loud burst of laughter brought both men’s gazes to the corner of the room. A tall, busty brunette was gyrating in front of some guy’s chair, her body blocking him from view, but Donovan could see the guy’s hands nervously clenching his Dockers-clad knees.

  “Poor sucker is about to end life as he knows it,” Donovan muttered, wondering why he felt so damn jealous of some schmo.

  Ten years ago he had come close to marriage and had counted himself among the lucky at escaping. But age and time had brought other emotions.

  “Interesting that you should find that guy so unfortunate,” came a voice from behind him.

  Donovan swiveled his head and eyed the hulking giant behind him. “The minute my skull stops throbbing, you’re dead, so I’d advise you to start running now.”

  Nick Stanton let out a bark of laughter and pulled up the barstool next to Donovan. Nick had retired from the Bombers a year earlier. As a Heisman Trophy–winning offensive lineman, he had helped lead the Bombers to two Super Bowl wins.

  “You always were a lot of hot air, Jerricho. But I promise to let you have at me when you’re feeling competent enough to make a fist.”

  The sound of a commotion brought Donovan’s gaze back to the bachelor party in the corner. Six men were cheering on the guy in the chair, who tightly clenched a ten-dollar bill.

  The dancer lifted the edge of her skimpy G-string to entice him to put the money somewhere provocative. With an uproar of hurrahs, the soon-to-be-shackled bridegroom slipped the bill down the front of the girl’s thong, earning him a near smothering with her boobs.

  “One small step for womankind, one giant leap for male stupidity,” Donovan said.

  “If I didn’t know better,” Nick remarked with humor in his voice, “I might think that was bitterness I heard. Could it be you long for wedded bliss?”

  “What I long for is peace,” Donovan retorted. “Meat, don’t you have some place else to put those idiots? They’re giving me a headache.”

  “That’s the doc,” Meat replied as though this meant something to Donovan.

  “So? Did he give you a brain transplant or something?”

  Meat scowled. “He’s a kid’s doctor.”

  “Well, that explains the smiley faces on his pink tie.”

  “You’re in rare form tonight,” Nick said. “Something got you uptight?”

  “No,” Donovan lied, thinking of Savannah and what he would say to her when he went by her place in the morning.

  “You should tell him,” Meat said to Nick, nodding his head toward Donovan.

  “Tell me what?” Donovan demanded, frowning.

  “I guess I should have told you about this sooner.” Nick shot a sideways look at Donovan. “Jesus, your timing has always stunk, you know that?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Get to the point.”

  Nick scratched his chin and stared at the bottles behind the bar. “I wondered if you deserved to know. It’s past time that this all ended. She deserves some happiness, after all. What have you ever done but been a mule-headed jackass?” he asked, swinging his gaze back to Donovan. “Who could ever get through to you once your mind was set?”

  Donovan swiveled slowly on his stool. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Savannah, you moron. She deserved a lot better than you dished out.”

  Donovan’s hand tightened on his glass. “What happened between Savannah and me was none of your damn concern.”

  “Remember the swipe you took at me when you saw her leaning her head on my shoulder that day at basic? I was your best friend. We’d known each other for what, fifteen years at that point? Christ, you were a jealous son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, well, I was a lot of things back then. Times change.”

  “And people?”

  Donovan shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “Sometimes you have to let go of your pride to get what you want. You were never able to do that. You always protected yourself, never let your guard down. I don’t think you’ve changed.”

  Donovan knew he had changed. Whether he wanted to or not, time had forced something on him. He had lived in a bubble for so long, he doubted he could ever have seen himself clearly if not for the accident and all the months he’d had nothing to do but search his own soul.

  “So I was an asshole, is that what you’re saying?”

  A reluctant grin tugged on Nick’s lips. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Why do you care whether I’m a Boy Scout or not?”

  “Despite popular consensus, I do give a shit about what happens to you. It was messed up, what happened to your arm. You were the best quarterback in the league.”

  Hearing his career spoken about in the past tense no longer stung the way it used to. “If an injury didn’t take me down, age would have.”

  “It was a good run for a while there.”

  Meat nudged Nick in the arm. “So tell him already.”

  Nick scowled. “I’m getting there.”

  “Could ya hurry? I’m getting old.”

  With a glare at Meat, Nick turned to face Donovan. “Keep in mind that I doubted the depth of your redemption.” Nick clamped a hand on the back of Donovan’s neck, turned his head toward the group in the corner, and pointed at the guy in the pink tie. “Tomorrow that dude is getting married.”

  Donovan jerked his head away. “Wanna tell me something I don’t know?”

  “He’s marrying Savannah.”

  Savannah leaned her head against the post on the back porch steps and took a deep breath.

  Though her new guests were wonderful, especially the Newsomes, an elderly couple from New York who were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary, the day had not been without its glitches.

  Janette had never shown up. Her mother had called and told Savannah that Janet
te had been out all night and hadn’t come home until dinnertime, and then only to climb into bed. She had been with some football player.

  Mrs. Carlton hadn’t mentioned the football player’s name, but Savannah knew. She had seen similar gossip in the newspapers about Donovan, photographers shooting him with one gorgeous woman after the next.

  It was ridiculous. She had no feelings left for Donovan, and yet her heart hurt. Perhaps it was only because she knew Janette and would have to see her every day.

  Savannah sank down onto the step, absently petting Sadie. The brown Lab laid its head in her lap and rubbed her nose against Savannah’s hand, looking for some loving.

  She had bought Sadie when Reese was five, after Oreo, Savannah’s black-and-white Maltese, had died. Donovan had bought Oreo for Savannah for her Sweet Sixteen, which fell three months after her father had died of a sudden heart attack and the weight of the world had felt as though it would suffocate her.

  Oreo had been such a comfort to her. Perhaps it was then that she knew she loved Donovan. For so many years he had been her friend, her confidant. It seemed only natural to love him.

  Savannah chided herself for her wandering thoughts and wondered if Jake was enjoying his party. He was such an endearing stick-in-the-mud, more prudish than most women, which was one of the things she had most liked about him. With Jake, she would never have to worry about other women. Not as she did with Donovan.

  Savannah smiled as she remembered her bachelorette party a week earlier. The obligatory male stripper in his cop uniform had shown up to dance for her, but the fun had been watching her aunt blush and fuss when Savannah had turned the policeman on her. Within ten minutes, her normally sedate aunt had a fistful of dollars in her hand and was swinging a pair of handcuffs in the air.

  Sadie’s head suddenly jerked up, her ears alert and a low growl rumbling up her throat.

  “What’s the matter, girl?” Savannah heard the snap of a twig, and Sadie jumped to her feet in a defensive stance.

  “Who is it?” Savannah called out. “Who’s there?”

  A body moved out from a copse of trees, the face in shadows as the moon slid behind a drifting cloud only to reappear a moment later to illuminate the ground and surroundings.

  And person.

  “Hello, Savvy.”

  No one before or since Donovan had called her Savvy. He owned the nickname.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “That’s how you greet an old friend?” he asked in that slow, seductive drawl she had always found so entrancing.

  “I have the right. You’re on my property.” And far too close for her peace of mind as he moved to stand at the bottom of the steps.

  The years had done nothing to mar his handsomeness. If anything, he was even more attractive. His features had sharpened, the leanness accentuating his rugged jaw and defining his cheekbones.

  His penetrating blue eyes still had the ability to look through a person and see what was inside, as he seemed to be doing as he watched her.

  “God, you’re still beautiful,” he said, coming up a step, forcing Savannah to move back in a subconscious gesture, catching herself before she took another step.

  She folded her arms across her chest, hating the ache just seeing him caused. “What do you want, Donovan?”

  “I’ve come to give the bride a kiss before her wedding.”

  So he knew. All the better. “Have you been drinking?” She could smell no alcohol—only the cologne he wore, a woodsy fragrance that slid over her as softly as the night.

  He shrugged. “I had a few drinks with Meat.”

  Only his old football pals still called Herschel by that nickname. He now heard a new name far more often: Daddy. Herschel had five rambunctious children that he adored and who adored him.

  Had Donovan run across Jake at the strip club? Is that how he had found out about her getting married, or had Herschel told him? Jake had heard some of her story about Donovan, but he didn’t know the half of it.

  Donovan moved to the next step, propping one foot up to rest next to hers. Lizard-skin boots adorned his feet and a Stetson was tipped back on his head, a frame for his dark, shoulder-length hair. Savannah tried to ignore the lean, muscular body in between those boots and that hat.

  “Should I assume you’ve lost your way?” she asked, acutely aware of how close he was, how his leg lightly brushed hers.

  “Nope,” he replied. “In fact, I think I’ve finally found my way.”

  “How terribly prophetic you’ve gotten with age.”

  “How terribly bitter you’ve gotten.”

  Anger welled up inside her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a busy day tomorrow.” She turned to go, but his words stopped her cold.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Slowly, Savannah faced him, ready to blister his ears but reining herself in at the last moment. “I could tell. All these years you’ve been pining away for me, dating one supermodel after the next because a case of amnesia made you forget I exist.”

  “Sarcasm was never your strong suit, and not very pretty.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t care. Good night, Donovan.” Savannah intended to make a grand exit and nurse her wounds with a half gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream, but his hand clamped around her wrist, bringing her to a sudden halt.

  The next thing she knew, she was in Donovan’s arms, held unrelentingly against his chest, enveloped in his scent and his heat, no words spoken as his mouth trapped hers in a breath-stealing kiss.

  Her head swam. It had been so long, too long, a voice whispered. It all came back in a rush of emotions: all the love she had once felt for him, and the fun they’d had, the laughter, the tears, the ups and downs. The passion. A single kiss had the power to steal her will and bring her back to a time when everything had been good and strong and right.

  Her arms rose and twined around his neck as his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue tasting her, his hands sliding down her side to nip at her waist before easing over her backside, pulling her tighter against him, letting her feel the arousal between his legs.

  She remembered all the steamy nights they had spent making love, how he could bring her to a shuddering orgasm with the simplest effort, how he would climb between her legs and hook them over his arms and stroke inside her, looking into her eyes and kissing her endlessly.

  She had loved the intimacy between them, feeling as though she would never get that close to another human being, and she had believed their world would never change. But it had all been a dream that had evaporated.

  Recovering her senses, Savannah pushed against Donovan’s chest, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him, waiting for the outrage to pour from her, but feeling only a hollow ache.

  “Let go of me,” she said with surprising steadiness. Donovan hesitated, but then opened his arms. Only the wall at her back kept her from buckling. “I don’t know what you’re out to prove, but you won’t use me to do it. I’d like you to leave my property and not return.”

  “I don’t think that’s at all what you want.”

  “You don’t know me anymore.”

  “But I do. It’s still there; you felt it. You just won’t admit it.”

  “Go.” She pointed. “Leave now and it will be forgotten.”

  “I don’t want to forget. I’ve done that for too long. I want to talk to you.”

  Savannah’s short laugh was tinged with bitterness. “Now you want to talk? Eight years ago you didn’t. You ordered me out of your life.”

  “I was young and hardheaded, and too busy to listen. I’ve forgiven you for what happened. I don’t want it to be like this forever. Not for us.”

  Savannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’ve forgiven me? You’re unbelievable! I never did anything that required forgiveness.” She shook her head. “You haven’t changed, Donovan. You’re still the same bullheaded, king-of-the-hill know-it-all. And you know what? I haven’t forgiven you.”
She spun around and yanked open the back door, her body rigid with indignation and banked passion.

  The screen door had just banged shut when the hinges whined. She whirled around to find Donovan in the doorway, looking huge and menacing.

  “I said get—” The rest of the sentence was cut off as she was hauled off her feet and thrown over his shoulder, caveman style. “Put me down!”

  His lizard-skin boot kicked open the screen door, his grip sure as he carted her across the back porch and down the six steps that led to the barn and the orchard.

  The night closed in around them as Donovan’s determined stride carried her down the graveled driveway. Without losing a beat, he pulled open his car’s door and tossed her in the passenger seat.

  As Donovan dropped into the driver’s seat and backed out of the driveway, she demanded, “Stop right now.” When he didn’t, she panicked. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”

  “Somewhere we can talk.” Turning his head, he added pointedly, “Somewhere you can’t run away.”

  “You’d better think of another plan. I’m getting married tomorrow.”

  He just kept on driving, his razor-sharp headlights the only illumination on the dark back road, the woods speeding by on the left and right looking oddly sinister.

  Savannah tried to calm herself and think rationally. “You don’t really believe this will solve anything?”

  “We weren’t solving anything your way.”

  “And you think this is the way to go about it? By kidnapping me?”

  He smiled at her. “Yup.”

  Chapter Three

  Savannah had the strongest desire to stomp her feet. How dare he! He had no right to think he could just walk in after all this time and expect her to welcome him with open arms.

  “Why don’t you just drop me off here? Janette lives only a few miles away. I’m sure she’d appreciate your caveman antics far more.”

  He had the good sense to look shamefaced. “You heard about that, did you?”