Keeping Score

1

“Enough’s enough, Mary. When are you coming home?” Warrick Evans settled his hips against the kitchen counter. He gripped its smoke and white marble top behind him. It was late Sunday afternoon. From across the room, he pinned his wife of almost two years with a steady stare.

Dr. Marilyn Devry-Evans angled her softly rounded stubborn chin. Her chocolate eyes met his challenge. “I’ve told you I need time, Rick.”

Warrick’s palms were sweating. He swallowed the brick of fear in his throat. “It’s been a month.”

A blush kissed the honey brown skin of her high cheekbones, but her gaze never wavered. “I have a lot to consider. I didn’t realize what I was getting into when I married you.”

“I told you when we met that I was a basketball player.”

Marilyn hugged her arms around her slender torso. “But the Brooklyn Monarchs weren’t any good when we met. Now that you’re in the play-offs, you’re a celebrity.”

“I’m still Rick.” His grip tightened on the counter until his knuckles hurt.

“You’re Rick amplified.” Marilyn shook her head. The straight strands of her dark brown ponytail swung around her shoulders. “You’re in the newspaper every day. People are gossiping about you, about me, about us. I never planned to live my life in the spotlight.”

Knowing she had a point didn’t make hearing it any easier. “Neither did I. But that’s part of the price I have to pay for a championship ring.” The other costs were his swollen knees and the spasms in his back.

“As your wife, the loss of privacy is a price I have to pay, too.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. When I fell in love with you, I didn’t consider how my career would affect you.” Warrick took a breath, then another. “Is the price too high?”

“I don’t know.” Marilyn’s words sliced his heart right down the middle.

What was behind her indecision? Marilyn was an obstetrician/gynecologist. She made sound decisions quickly all the time. Why couldn’t she make a decision about their marriage? What—or who—was coming between them? He had his pick of options, starting with her parents.

Warrick rubbed his forehead. His fingers burned as the circulation returned. Terrell and Celeste Devry had warned their daughter against marrying a man who “played games” for a living. Nothing Warrick said or did would change their minds, and he’d done everything short of sending them his college transcripts. Luckily, his in-laws hadn’t been able to change Marilyn’s mind. Not even their scowls during the ceremony could derail the wedding.

He dropped his hand. Warrick ached as his gaze lifted to Marilyn’s profile. Her gleaming mass of dark hair was swept back and restrained at the nape of her neck with her usual clip thing. Warrick wanted to release the device and draw his fingers through her hair. He wanted to pull her into his arms. It had been too long since he’d held her.

He released his grip on the kitchen counter and stepped forward. “I miss you, Mary.”

Her wide eyes were filled with sadness and confusion—and it was all so pointless.

“I miss you, too.” Her voice was husky.

Relief rushed him, rocking him back on his heels. Warrick closed his eyes briefly. She still cared. He had reason to hope. “Then come home.”

Marilyn shook her head, her expression miserable. “It’s not that easy, Rick.”

He moved closer. Her body’s warmth pulled him like a magnet. He wanted to bury his head against her neck and inhale her fragrance—jasmine and talcum. He missed breathing her scent as he fell asleep at night and woke in the morning.

Warrick studied her features one by one—high forehead, short nose, sharp cheekbones, sexy lips, stubborn chin.

“Do you love me?” His voice was a whisper.

Marilyn dropped her arms. “Of course I do.”

His heart healed. “And I love you. It isn’t any more complicated than that.”

Her rich dark eyes searched his. “But it is. I don’t like opening the newspaper or logging on to the Internet and finding stories speculating about our marriage and whether I’m good enough for you. I don’t like people attacking you and questioning your character.”

“It doesn’t matter what other people think. All that matters is what we know, and I know that I need you in my life.”