Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1 (16 page)

Numbers were scribbled on paper and dropped in a fire helmet. Brack tried to watch the matches as they went but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Abby. She studied each match with intensity, asking Rand and Lawson different questions and even practicing a couple times with various others as the matches heated up. Each winner’s number was placed in a crude bracket Rand had drawn up. The new numbers drawn brought two people to the line, and when Jonathon showed up, his number was added into the mix.

Abby’s number came up with Sam’s. She stepped up to the line and faced him. They put their hands up, palms together.

“On the whistle,” Rand announced. “Remember, you can’t move your feet, Abby. First to lose their balance is out.”

When the whistle blew, the two just stood there. Their hands moved slightly, testing each other’s reactions. Sam pulled his hands away quickly, and Abby tottered forward before catching her balance. Though Brack couldn’t be certain, he thought Sam might have gone easy on her. She laughed as they pushed and leaned, and when Abby jerked her hands away, Sam took a step over the line to solidify her first win.

Her smile as she helped Sam up from his knees jerked through Brack with the strength of lightning. How was he supposed to pretend what they shared the other night never happened? She might be able to, but he couldn’t. Shit, all she had to do was smile and he was hard.

Several more rounds passed before Brack’s number came up along with Jenna’s. Finishing off his beer, he faced his sister-in-law. He knew from experience that she was good, but there was no way he’d lose tonight. One way or another, he was going to meet up with Abby on this line.

Jenna didn’t stand a chance and smiled her defeat gracefully less than two minutes later. Round after round passed. Abby held her own, and so did Lawson, Jonathon, and Rand. The last standings didn’t surprise any of them, barring Abby’s inclusion. For someone who’d never played, she’d done well.

Jonathon was her next opponent, and it didn’t take long for him to throw her off-balance. Though Brack was bummed to have missed the chance to go against her, he was having too much fun to give it much thought. That and his fifth beer might have had something to do with it. Or was it the sixth?

Abby settled back in her chair to watch the rest of the matches. She’d had so much fun that she couldn’t be too upset by losing. Jonathon had beaten her soundly and he held his own through two more matches, knocking Rand and Lawson out of the running.

Brack’s number was called again, and Rand’s voice filled the area. “It’s father against son, David against Goliath, man against beast…”

“Get to the point, son,” Merrit hollered good-naturedly. “We’re not getting any younger—or warmer.”

“Brack and Jonathon.” Rand held his whistle up as they came to the line. “Winner takes all.”

Brack handed his empty beer bottle to Rand and held his hands up to meet his son’s. They were the same size, both long and tanned. Brack’s hands bore the marks of age while Jonathon’s were trim and lithe from signing for so many years. They stood almost the same height and Abby wondered if the next two years of growth would put Jonathon at a height advantage.

Abby stared at them and something inside her broke open. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she forced several breaths to ease the ache in her throat. She loved them. Both of them.

She didn’t see the match, though she sat right there in front of them. She heard the laughter and encouraging yells, she even heard the cheers as someone won, but for the life of her, she didn’t know who.

She loved them, and she didn’t want to.

The thought swallowed her whole.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed.

“What’s eating you?”

It was Brack. He dropped into the chair next to her, landing hard.

“Nothing.” She closed her eyes and snuggled down into her sweatshirt. “Just tired.”

She could feel the heat of his skin and breath as he leaned closer. “Did you see Jonathon kick my ass? How the hell did he get old enough for that? I was just changing his diapers yesterday.”

That image drew a laugh out of her and she opened her eyes. He stared at her, his eyes somewhat glassy. “I think you’re drunk.”

He pinched his fingers together. “Just a little.”

She looked around. “Is everyone leaving?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“You have a ride?” she asked, suddenly nervous.

“You.”

“Me?” she croaked. Great. Drunk men made for amorous company. “How’d that happen?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to get you alone.”

His honesty broke through the fog surrounding her. “Dare I ask why?”

“Because I’ve had to share you all night.”

Okay, so he wasn’t going to elaborate. That worked and didn’t at the same time. Shit. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for hours.”

Her heart was thrumming fast enough to punch out of her chest. She needed to get a grip, and quick. Glancing at the others remaining, she stood. “Let me go say goodbye.”

He nodded with a yawn. “I’ll wait in the car. Already said goodbye to everyone.”

Abby made the rounds and tried to help Gigi with some of the leftover food. “You just get him home and into bed. I’ll take care of this.”

Had there been a double meaning in Gigi’s statement? Abby almost thought so by the gleam in her friend’s eyes. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marla and Merrit had already left, and Lawson told her Jonathon had gone home with them for the night.

She made her way to the car in a jumble of nerves. They’d be alone. It sat in darkness, parked at the edge of the lawn sheltered by trees. As she approached, she could make out Brack leaned back in her passenger seat, his knees scrunched up against the dashboard. Laughing she walked around to his side and opened the door. “You’d be more comfortable if you let me slide the seat back.”

His arm draped over his eyes. “Do whatever you want, Abby, just turn off that light.”

She reached across him and flipped off the interior light before sliding her hand between his legs to grab the handle. He chuckled. “You missed.”

Jerking the handle upward, she shoved his seat back. “Don’t think so, Romeo.”

“Romeo, huh?” His hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her down close. “Can Romeo have a kiss?”

His lips were inches from hers and she brushed a quick kiss across his mouth. “There.”

He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

She kissed him again, with slightly more pressure. “Better?”

He shook his head. “Not even close.”

His other hand snaked out and wrapped around her waist, dragging her into the car across his lap. Before she could say a word, his lips found hers. There was no pretense, no clumsy drunken mauling. He kissed her hard and deep, igniting instant arousal in her belly. His hand caressed her bottom, pulling her closer onto his lap until she could feel the hard press of his erection against her hip.

She pulled back, gasping for breath. “Brack, stop. We can’t do this.”

“I think we proved the other night that we can. And good.” He nuzzled her neck, nipping and biting at her pulse before whispering against her skin. “This is what you wanted, right? Nothing beyond this?”

His hand slid under her shirt, closing over her breast as his hips rocked against her. She was powerless against his touch and his whispered promise of what he would do to her.

When his hand slid lower, dragging against the waist of her jeans she tried to shift away. “Brack, please.”

“Please what, Abby?” His hand slid between her thighs. “Stop wanting you? Stop thinking about you?”

His hand worked against her as he spoke, his lips pressed to her skin, hot and damp. “I tried, but I can’t do it. I want you. I don’t want to, but I do.”

Her thoughts thrown back at her were enough to clear the fog of arousal he’d created. She pushed away, groaning as his hands reluctantly let her go. “I’ll get you home.”

“Damn you, Abby.” But the statement held no heat. He nodded, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No apologies.” She wanted to cry. “Being a regret is bad enough. I just don’t want to be a drunken regret.”

“I don’t regret a moment—”

She closed his door before he could say more and prayed for strength as she walked around to the other side. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she eased into the car. “You don’t think you regret it now, but where has this sudden attraction been for the last few days? I’m all for no expectations, keeping it simple, but you haven’t even spoken to me.”

“I know.” He slashed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to act around you.”

She pulled out of the parking lot. “And all but ignoring me, then trying to get into my pants tonight is how you figured you should act?”

“No.” He had the grace to flinch. “Hell, I don’t know. You’re the one who set the rules. How am I supposed to act? Should I walk over and kiss you when I want, or should I act like you’re a friend? Should I ask you out to dinner or keep what’s between us secret and slip into your bed when no one’s looking? You tell me, Abby. You’re the one with all the answers.”

His irritation pissed her off. If it wasn’t so cold out, she might have dropped him at a curb and let him walk home. “I don’t have any answers, but I didn’t think you’d treat me like I had the plague. Maybe you were right. Maybe we shouldn’t have had sex. It only complicated an attraction we both enjoyed.”

“And you don’t anymore?”

She wanted to lie. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you. But I’ll give it all up to go back to where we were.”

“There’s no going back.” He pointed to a small road and she turned, pulling into his drive a moment later. He grabbed the door handle and sighed. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I don’t know how to pretend I don’t want you every minute. I’ll work on—acting the way we did before. That’s the best I can offer.”

“Thank you,” was all she could manage.

“But you have to know…” He shifted to look at her, his fingers tracing over her cheek. “I want you to come in. I want you to stay for the night. I want you, period.”

He climbed out and closed the door before she could say a word. She waited until he made it to his door, ignoring his questioning glance before she backed out of the drive. With a groan, she clutched the steering wheel.

He wanted exactly what she wanted.

Chapter Twelve

Three days since she’d laid eyes on Brack freakin’ Elliot.

Abby slid the last of her papers into a folder and placed them in her bag.

Why the hell did she care?

Maybe because she could barely sleep without thinking about him. But he’d done exactly what she’d told him to do. He’d walked away. No ties. No commitment.

“You should be happy, idiot,” she mumbled.

“What’s gotten you in such an uproar these last couple days?”

Heat traveled across Abby’s cheeks, and she turned to face Gigi. “Sorry. I’m just out of sorts.”

“I’d say.” Gigi handed her a travel mug and pointed toward the door. “You’re going to be late.”

With a quick nod, Abby grabbed her bag and pulled it over her shoulder. “I know. Thanks, Gi.”

She rushed out the door and headed for the front doors of the school. Today would be their first scrimmage, and the nervous anticipation had begun.

The girls were waiting next to the bus when she exited the building. Jonathon stood off to one side with Lynette, and they both smiled as she approached.

Lynette grabbed her backpack from the ground. “We’re all ready, Coach.”

“Good.” Abby forced herself to look away from Jonathon. “Let’s get going then.”

A quick glance revealed the question in his eyes, but she ignored it, not sure she could look at him when he reminded her so much of his father. She climbed on the bus and took the seat closest to the front before rummaging through her bag for the scorebook. At least it would make it look like she was focused on something, even if her mind refused to comply.

Frustrated, she drew circles and intricate patterns over the paper. She shouldn’t expect or want any other reaction from Brack. The distance between them would make it easier to deal with her rattled emotions in the long run.

She repeated the affirming thought over and over again, but it didn’t help. Maybe it was just better to cut and run now before her heart was any more invested. If she left now, she could save on the hurt, and Brack and Jonathon would never have to witness who her mother was and what she herself could someday become.

It made sense. It was what she’d always done.

But this time, it hurt. This time, a foolish part of her wished she didn’t have to go…

When the bus rumbled over the speed bumps of the middle school parking lot, she sighed with relief. The bus door swung open, and the girls’ chatter erupted through her foggy inattention. At least the game would give her a slight reprieve from her thoughts.

If the girls noticed her distraction they said nothing and quickly carried the gear to the field. Abby took a moment to center her thoughts. She closed her eyes, forcing Brack from her mind where he’d stayed for three nights like the traces of his scent on her pillows. Washing everything hadn’t helped either. The moment she’d settled down to sleep he’d been there, slipping her into nights and haunting her dreams.