Someone Like You (16 page)

It was only when the water bottle slipped out of her hand onto her foot that she realized her hands were trembling.

* * *

Pierce watched Abby talk with various people after the game. The Jaguars had won again. Parents had crowded around both of them to ask questions, pick up their kids, the usual postgame chaos. She was surrounded by people, and her hands gestured wildly as she spoke, the way they did whenever she was excited or gripped by a moment. He caught her eye for a second, but she looked back to Nicky's mom. Hmmm.

He wasn't imagining it. She'd been a little bit . . . distant, maybe? The whole morning. She'd smiled at him, spoke to him, but she had a reserved vibe going on that made him uneasy. Like she'd pulled back. She hadn't done or said anything specific; he could just feel it.

It was in her stiffer body language, the absence of sweet glances she'd been tossing his way all week. Through experience, his intuition where women were concerned was pretty sharp. Abby had something on her mind . . . or, maybe, had changed her mind. About him, and their big date that night. Maybe his telling her flat-out he planned to take her home and have sex hadn't been the right tactic after all. She was such a planner, he'd thought he was doing it her way, to ease her into the idea . . . but she'd been aloof to him this morning. No doubt about that. What could have changed so drastically so quickly?

He intended to find out. As soon as they were alone. The feeling that Abby didn't want to talk to him nagged at him, like a buzzing gnat, and he didn't like it.

“Coach Pierce!” Dylan ran up to him, his pale blond hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. “We won again!”

“How cool is that?” Pierce smiled. He high-fived Dylan. “Good game, my man.”

“See you at practice on Monday!” Dylan said before running back to his grandparents.

Pierce didn't see Fiona and remembered she was working. Too bad, Dylan was so proud. He was a great kid. Full of energy, happy, fun . . . an idea occurred to him and he made a mental note to ask Abby later.

But she wouldn't get close enough for him to ask anything. Other than being all business during the game, she'd stayed away from him. Frustration finally overwhelmed him. He walked directly to her, where she was now chatting with her parents.

“Hey, Mr. McCord, Mrs. McCord. Good to see you.” Pierce flashed his best smile at them, then looked down at Abby. “Can I talk to you for a sec, Coach?”

“Take her, that's fine,” Mrs. McCord said. “She's free now. We're going to take Dylan home, honey. You talk, wrap it up here, and we'll see you later.”

“Okay, Mom,” Abby said. She kissed her parents' cheeks and gave Dylan a quick hug before they left. When she turned to Pierce, he saw something in her eyes . . . wariness. “What's up?” She tried to sound light, but he heard the false note.

“What's going on, Abby?” He took a step closer and dropped his voice low, so only she would hear him. “Did something happen? Did I do something?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” she stammered. Her eyes widened a little and some color blossomed on her pale cheeks. “What are you—”

“You've been avoiding me all morning,” he said plainly. “No sweet talk, keeping your distance. Barely even making eye contact. You think I don't see it?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said, but her face flamed.

“Yeah. Right. That's why you just turned red.” He speared her with a look. “You have no poker face, Abby. Your blushes give you away every time.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip and looked at the ground. Fighting to stay cool, he raked his hands through his hair, looked around to make sure no one was too close, then leaned down close to her ear. He murmured, “If you've changed your mind about spending the night with me, that's fine. But just be straight with me and say so.”

At his soft command, Abby's chest tightened and her stomach did a wobbly flip. She met his intense gaze as her mind raced. Sofia's words had stayed with her; all morning, she found it hard to be near him, to talk to him. She hated herself for it, but couldn't help it all the same. “I . . . I don't know what I want,” she whispered back.

His blue eyes blazed like flames. A muscle jumped in his jaw. But he said in an even tone, “Okay. Let me know when you do.” He stared at her a moment longer, then turned and walked away. Grabbing the big mesh sack off the grass, he started scooping up the loose balls and tossing them inside.

Her stomach totally churned now, and her throat had gotten thick.
Oh God, what did I just do?
She watched him as he worked, tossing a grin or a quick hello to people as he retrieved the balls. The look that had flickered in his eyes . . . he was taken aback, that was for sure, but also . . . hurt? Had that just happened? Misery stirred in Abby's gut.

So? What do you want?
Folding her arms over her chest, she weighed her options. Behind door number one: Take a chance on getting more deeply involved with Pierce, and risk getting hurt. And yes, you could get hurt, because you have feelings for him now. Strong feelings, ones you hadn't counted on, ones that could get your heart smashed again if he got what he wanted and left.

That option didn't appeal very much. She mentally walked away from door number one.

Without willing them, her eyes canvassed his long, lean body as he stood in the sunshine, the sack of soccer balls in one hand while he drank down water with the other. In a quick move, he dropped the sack and poured the rest of the water over his head, soaking his dark hair. As he wiped his face and pushed his wet hair back, she watched the water stream down his neck and shoulders, drenching the top of his royal blue T-shirt, making it cling to his muscular upper arms and chest.
Lord have mercy.
She whooshed out a hard breath, realizing she'd stopped breathing.

Door number two: Ignore your growing feelings and just live a little. You know he doesn't do relationships, or deep feelings. He does do a good time, and has been kind and decent to you, and the chemistry between you is crazy smoking hot.
He
is crazy smoking hot, and if you don't sleep with him, you'll regret it for the rest of your stupid life. Take a page from his book: Go with the flow, throw caution to the wind for once.

She couldn't stop staring at him. He turned, walking back in her direction. He was headed right for her, eyes locked with hers, searing and intense, sending the butterflies in her stomach back into a frenzy.

“I've got everything,” he said, his tone flat as he lifted the sack over his shoulder. He put on his sunglasses. “I'll walk you to your car.”

“Thank you.” Her voice felt small in her mouth. But as she grabbed her small cooler and began to walk with him, she knew she'd made up her mind. Door number two. For once, she was going to try it a new way. Why the hell not.

They were silent until they reached her car. Sunshine beat down on them, but the breezes were cooler than they'd been the day before. She opened the trunk and he dropped the sack in.

“Abby?” he asked. “I just—”

She reached up to take off his sunglasses and put them in the pocket of his track pants. He watched her as her hand reached down and took his, as she stood on tiptoe to kiss his mouth lightly. He didn't move, but kept watching her, even as he asked, “Did I do something to upset you? What the hell happened?”

“Nothing. It's me. I just got . . . tangled up in thoughts.” His shirt was still wet, but her hand slid up his arm until she rested it on his shoulder. “I'm sorry.” Her fingers stroked his dark scruff, traced the line of his strong, stubbled jaw. “I do want to be with you tonight. If you still want me, that is.”

“Of course I want you,” he said, his brow furrowing. “I just want you to tell me why you were avoiding me all morning.” His blues searched hers. “Is it nerves? Like . . . jitters?”

“Yeah,” she said, knowing it was at least partly true.

His hands rose to cup her face, and he lowered his mouth to hers for a long, gentle kiss. “You don't have to be nervous with me,” he whispered against her lips.

“It's been a long time for me,” she said, savoring the feel of his hands, his mouth, his warm breath against her skin. When he touched her, her fears and doubts—along with her sanity—always seemed to drift right out of her head. Her hands went to his waist as if they had minds of their own.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, long and slow and insistent, until her arms slid around his damp waist and locked there. “It's like riding a bike,” he murmured. “I promise you'll remember how.” He grinned seductively, and she had to snort at him. “And I'll show you a few new tricks while we get your wheels back on.” His mouth crushed hers, his kisses hot and promising sin. Despite his wet shirt, she leaned into him and melted in his embrace. After a minute, he pulled back to look into her eyes and ask, “So . . . we're on for tonight? You sure about this? I don't want you to feel like you have to or—”

“I'm sure,” she said. Her nerves jolted for a second and she willfully swatted the thoughts away. He wanted a good time? So did she. She'd deal with the fallout, if and when it happened, later. Now, her hands moved up his muscled, tattooed arms to his shoulders. “Wear something dry, though, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, Coach.” His sexy crooked grin made her heart do that flutter again. “I'll pick you up at six. Dinner and . . . more. And . . . you know what? Dress up a little bit. Something nice.” He took her mouth, possessive and demanding as his tongue swirled with hers and his fingers threaded through her hair, leaving her breathless. “And something easy for me to take off.”

Chapter Fourteen

When the doorbell rang, Abby's heart took off like a racehorse. She went to her window and saw Pierce's black Range Rover Evoque parked in front of the house.

“I got it!” Dylan yelled downstairs. She heard his footsteps run to the door and him asking loudly, “Who's there?”

Pierce must've answered, because as she got to the top of the stairs, she heard Dylan throw the door open and say, “Coach Pierce? What are you doing here? And all dressed up?”

She swallowed a laugh; anything other than athletic clothing must constitute “dressed up” to Dylan.

“Well, buddy,” Pierce said, “I'm here to take your aunt out to dinner.”

Abby started her descent, in time to see the confused look on her nephew's face as he asked, “You mean like a date?”

“Yup.” Pierce grinned as he asked with care, “Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dylan said, shrugging and turning away. He took a step before he saw Abby and broke out in a smile. “I was about to call you downstairs, Auntie Abs. Hey, you look pretty! You're all dressed up too!”

She laughed and tousled his hair. “Thank you, sweetie.” She glanced over at Pierce. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Pierce's gaze had sharpened on her. “Kid's right. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling her cheeks lightly blush. “Double approval, huh? Glad I picked this dress.” She looked down at Dylan and asked, “Where's Grandma?”

“In the kitchen,” Dylan answered. As if on cue, Carolyn and Jesse emerged from the kitchen.

“Well, don't you two look nice!” Carolyn enthused as she eyed Abby and Pierce.

Dylan said to them, “They're going on a date.”

“I know,” Carolyn chuckled. Jesse shook Pierce's hand in greeting, then stood back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Have a good night, you guys.” Abby went to give her father a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “You're posturing. Stand down, Officer.”

Jesse snorted and gave her a quick hug, whispering back, “You be careful. Have a good time.”

“I will.” Abby moved to her mother for a hug and quickly whispered in her ear, “I might not come home tonight. Just don't want you to worry if I don't.”

Carolyn pulled back to look at her daughter. Her brows arched and her eyes went round with surprise, but all she murmured was, “Just text me one way or the other, all right?”

“Sure.” Abby grinned and mouthed silently, “Thank you.”

Carolyn kissed her forehead. “Be safe,” she whispered.

Abby nodded, went to the coffee table to grab her clutch bag, and smiled at Pierce. “Ready.”

“Great. You all have a good night,” he said to her family.

“Up top, Coach?” Dylan went to him with his hand in the air.

Pierce high-fived him and smiled broadly. “Up top, my man. See you at practice on Monday.”

As he followed Abby outside, she stopped next to her car. “Wait a sec,” she said to him. She opened the trunk and pulled out a small turquoise duffel bag.

His brows lifted in a silent question.

“I, uh . . .” She felt her face flame and cursed herself. “In case I stay the night.”

His expression softening, he went to her and dropped a light kiss on her mouth. “I love it when you plan ahead.”

* * *

Even as he drove, Pierce couldn't stop sneaking glances at Abby. He wondered if he seemed idiotic, like a cartoon character with his eyes bugging out. She was so damned gorgeous.

Her hair was down, a smooth curtain of silky gold. She had on a bit more eye makeup than usual; not too much, just enough to play up her beautiful eyes. The bold blue of the dress brought out the dark blue of her eyes, which always reminded him of a stormy sea. Waves and currents ripped through her expressive eyes without warning, often mesmerizing him. He knew now why people said they could drown in someone's eyes. He certainly could in hers.

And that dress. Jesus. It flattered every curve of her delicious body. He'd asked for it, hadn't he? And damn, she'd delivered. Spaghetti straps begging to be slid slowly off her shoulders . . . he wanted to nibble his way down her neck, over her bare shoulders. He was dying to know what she was wearing underneath. The soft material clung to her petite torso, but swayed around her hips and calves when she moved. And those shoes . . . when she'd come down the stairs in those strappy sexy heels, he'd briefly pictured her in bed beneath him, her shapely legs wrapped around him, wearing those stilettos and nothing else. Envisioning it again made his cock twitch, and he shifted slightly in his seat.

“You really look beautiful tonight,” he said. “Thanks for that.”

“You're thanking me?” she asked, a look of bewilderment crossing her features.

“Well, you dressed up for our date, for me, right? So yeah, thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She grinned and leaned back in the seat. “Gotta admit . . . seeing you in a button-down shirt is pretty hot.”

The crooked grin lifted his lips. “Glad you think so. I don't do button downs often. But since I asked you to dress up a little, I thought reciprocating was fair.”

She put her hand on his knee; he could feel the warmth of her hand through his jeans. Still grinning, he covered her hand with his and rubbed the top with his thumb.

“So I'm just gonna be honest here,” he said as he drove around the exit ramp to the main road. “I wanted to do something nice, but not
too
nice, because you'd think I was trying too hard.” He shot her a sideways glance to gauge her reaction. She looked amused. That was good. “My brother Charles has a yacht, over at the Kingston Point Yacht Club. I thought about whisking you out for a ride on it, and having dinner. But then I thought, I didn't want you to feel like you were trapped alone on a boat with me out in the middle of the Sound. So . . . I came up with the next best thing. And you might like it even better. I hope. We'll have privacy, but you won't be in the middle of nowhere with the big bad wolf.”

She giggled at that. “Whatever you have planned, I'm sure it'll be great.”

Her small hand felt good in his. He wove his fingers through hers and smiled back.

Soon they were driving through a heavily wooded area, the streets canopied with taller trees and ornate lampposts occasionally lighting the way. “I've never been in this part of Kingston Point,” she said. “It's all private property back here.”

“Snob Central,” he said. “But don't worry, I'll protect you.”

She snorted out a laugh and said, “But who's going to protect me from
you?
”

He laughed at that. “Mmm. Good point. I do have some wicked plans for you tonight. . . .”

He turned off the main road and worked the SUV up a long dirt path. Thick woods lined either side for the quarter-mile driveway until it let out onto a clearing, slightly elevated. “This is the graaaand Harrison estate,” Pierce said in a mock haughty voice, complete with phony British accent. “Welcome to the jungle.”

Abby's eyes widened as she took in the scenery. Even in the darkness, thanks to a few well-placed lights, she could see the high degree of grandeur laid out before her.

“We'll pass the main house first,” he said. “I grew up there.”

Almost as soon as he'd said it, the house came into view. The finely landscaped grounds and magnificent three-story Georgian mansion, lit from within, looked like something out of a movie or off a tourism Web site. Abby's eyes widened as she took in the breathtaking estate. “You call that a house?” she murmured.

“It's not really a house,” Pierce said dryly. “It's a fucking mausoleum.”

Her eyes shot to his profile. His lips were pursed and his thick brows puckered, the frown changing his face. “You had a hard time growing up?” she ventured.

“Yes. I had a horrible childhood,” he said, his voice flat. “By the time I was born, my parents' marriage had disintegrated. I was an accident. And since my mother had had affairs . . . let's just say when I arrived, it wasn't good. My father never connected with me, they were angry at each other . . .” He shook his head as he maneuvered the SUV around the mansion toward the back of the property. “By the time he threw her out when I was six, it was ugly. She took her money and left. He ignored me. I was raised by nannies, more or less. So yeah, I turned into a bit of a hell-raiser.” The corner of his mouth quirked as he stole a glance at her. “And as soon as I was eighteen, I got the fuck out of there and never looked back. No one cared that I left anyway. Except Tess.”

She said nothing, her heart squeezing for him. Imagining him as a lonely little boy without loving parents, wandering the halls in that tremendous mansion and feeling like no one really cared, made her want to hold him and weep.

“I hated it there,” Pierce continued, his eyes focused on the road. “It's not exactly kid-friendly. It's way too big, ornately beautiful, and cold. Like a fucking museum. So many rooms we weren't allowed in as kids, things we couldn't dare touch . . . it didn't feel like a
home.
” Pierce turned into a smaller driveway that led to a second house. “Now, the guesthouse? My sister's made
that
feel like a home. She moved in there after she broke off her engagement a few years ago. She wanted familiar surroundings to bolster her, but she also wanted her own space. Dad was all too happy to let her move into what used to be the guest cottage. He adores her. Then again, everyone does. My sister's awesome. You can't not like her.”

As they drove up to it, Abby couldn't help but laugh. “You call that a cottage? It's bigger than my house!”

Pierce grimaced. “Yeah, it's big. That's how my great-grandfather designed the whole place—both the main house and the guesthouse. He wanted room for a lot of people. Apparently, he loved a good party. He probably also wanted to flaunt his newfound wealth.” He pulled into a curved driveway. “I mean, yeah, the mansion is huge, even growing up as one of four kids. My parents had their own wing, and the kids had their own wing. And this cottage? Tess has three guest rooms besides her master bedroom. Eat-in kitchen, four bathrooms, a living room, a den, and a sunroom. That's my favorite room in her house, it's got a killer view of the Sound.” He cut the ignition and turned off the lights. “I love staying here. Well, that, and of course because it's staying with her. She should still be home, you'll get to meet her.”

“This is our final destination?” Abby asked, a bit surprised.

“Yes.” He shifted in his seat to face her. “I was going to take you out and show you off to the world. But . . . every time I start kissing you, I don't want to stop.” His eyes went to her mouth as a sensual grin curved his own. “So since tonight, we've agreed that we don't have to stop, I wanted to be someplace private. I hope that's okay.”

“It's fine,” she said with a smile.

He slowly drew the pad of his thumb across her lips, making her blood start to race in her veins. “There're three guest rooms here . . . with nice big beds . . .”

She met his smoldering gaze. The desire she saw there sent electricity skittering over her skin and raised goose bumps. Her heart stuttered in her chest. “So for once,
you
planned ahead?”

He chuckled. “I did. Guess you're rubbing off on me.” He leaned in for a kiss, brushing his lips against hers, sipping, tasting. “I ordered in dinner for us. It's so nice out, we can eat outside by the pool. The night's ours.” Another kiss, deeper this time. “And I got the
biggest
box of condoms I could find. ACME-sized, Coach. It's all good.”

She burst out laughing, and he smiled with her.

He kissed her once more. “Come on.” He pulled back and got out of the Evoque.

Abby quickly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to calm her thumping heart. She was already so turned on it was ridiculous. But she was equally surprised, in a good way. He'd planned a nice evening for them. Given it thought and effort. And yes, set a scene of seduction. A little thrill rolled through her at that, she had to admit it. She'd said yes to the date, she'd basically said yes to sex, and now that she was here, she just had to get out of her head. But she also felt stirrings of nervousness about meeting his beloved, probably perfect sister. Abby hadn't expected to be introduced to anyone in his family. Was Tess staying for dinner too? Abby guessed she'd find out soon enough.

Pierce opened her door, reached for her hand, and pulled her out of the car, yanking her against him to steal a few more sultry kisses. In his arms, Abby heard the pounding of her own pulse in her ears along with the chirping of crickets on the warm night air around them. Desire surged through her as his tongue swept into her mouth, tangling with hers. His hard body was warm against hers, radiating sinful heat.

With a soft, hungry groan, Pierce pulled back from her embrace, grinned at her, straightened his crisp white shirt, then took her by the hand and led her to the front door. As soon as he opened it, a small white dog rushed up to them, barking and spinning around in happy circles at their feet.

“Easy, Bubs, easy!” Pierce laughed and bent to pet the dog. He lifted the Maltese into his arms. “This is Abby. Say hi, Bubbles. Eeeasy, girl.” The dog's tail wagged wildly and she yipped out a hello.

“Bubbles, huh?” Abby smiled, let the dog sniff her hand, then ran both hands along the dog's soft fur. “Aren't you cute? Yes, you are. You sweet girl.”

“Yes, she is,” came a voice from farther inside the room. A strikingly beautiful woman crossed the foyer to meet them. Dressed simply in gray yoga pants and a red T-shirt, the woman smiled at Abby as she leaned down to scoop up the dog into her arms. “Bubbles loves her uncle Pierce, don't you, baby?”