Full Count (Cessna U Wildcats Book 3)

by Kimberly Readnour

  “What’s the matter?” Cara asks. A knowing pitch laces the edges of her voice. I study her, searching for clues of condescension but find none. Maybe my paranoia is making me edgy.

  “Nothing. I was just wondering where Lexie is. She hasn’t responded to my text.”

  “Hmm.”

  My eyes narrow. That murmur definitely holds condescension. Yet, Cara’s face remains sweet and not at all accusatory. Oh, she’s good. I almost bought that innocent act. She knows exactly what’s happening.

  “Okay, spill. What’s going on with Lexie?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her innocent tone would be more believable if she didn’t look so damn guilty. Okay, so I was wrong. She’s not so good at keeping a straight face. She better never become an actress. She’d be eaten alive in this town.

  “I call bullshit.”

  Braxton pats me on the back, saving his girlfriend from answering. “I’m sure Lexie’s fine. She can’t text and drive.”

  “I suppose.”

  Braxton grabs Cara and brings her flush against his body. “You want to dance or head outside?”

  Cara glances over at the group of people huddled in the far corner, swaying to the music. There’s a longing to her expression that quickly turns sour when a couple of girls spill their drinks on the floor. Damn, they got wasted relatively quickly. “You guys are going to have fun cleaning that up tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, we better go outside,” Braxton says. “If the guys see me over there, I may get roped into mopping detail.”

  “Nah, we’ll place Dalton on janitor detail. He’s the youngest.”

  “We used that excuse last time.”

  I smirk at Braxton. “And it still holds true this year.”

  “I could use some air. All these bodies in here are making the house hot.” Cara eyes Braxton as if he’s the only guy in the room. It’s almost sickening how in love they are.

  “Get outside or go upstairs,” I say.

  “Shut it, Cartel. You’re just jealous.”

  “Sure. Being tied down is just what I need.” The words are said, but I do miss having someone to look at me like that. Huh, usually, that thought is followed by a pang of hurt. The hurt is there, but the girl in my thoughts has honey-rich eyes, not the dark brown that usually haunts me.

  “Being tied down can have its advantages.”

  “You best quit while you’re ahead, Smith.” Cara’s warning makes us laugh.

  “Just saying.” Braxton grabs a few Miller Lite bottles and trails behind Cara.

  I laugh at my friends. Through the music beats and loud conversations, the sound of the front door somehow makes it to the kitchen. My gaze draws straight to the blonde walking through, and I swear, my next breath feels lighter. She’s here.

  “Come on, Miller.” He stays beside me as I snake my way through the crowd of people. It’s almost pathetic how drawn I am to her. When I’m about four to five feet away, I notice the guy standing behind her. Why does our star quarterback have his fingers on the swell of her back? A flash of red is all I see. Her gaze seeks mine. She gives me a faint smile the moment she finds me. Kyle high fives some other jock with his free hand and laughs at whatever the guy says. For a split moment, Lexie and I are in our own world. A world where we can just be. No responsibilities. No guilt. No regrets. Only me and her. The way I wish it could be.

  She pulls her gaze away too soon for my liking and shifts her focus to Miller. She gives him a huge smile that’s usually reserved for me.

  Lucky dog.

  “Hey, Miller,” she says as she pets his head. My traitorous dog soaks in her attention.

  “I’m glad you’re safe. When you didn’t reply to my text, I got worried.”

  “I’m sorry. I haven’t been checking my phone.”

  That’s bullshit. Lexie lives on her phone. If she isn’t checking her texts, she’s checking on her brothers. No way did she miss my messages. Yes, I was that pathetic and sent more than one.

  “No biggie. I’m glad you’re safe.” I turn to Kyle. “Hey, great game today. Glad to see you brought home the win.”

  “Yeah, it looks like we’ll have a winning season.”

  I want to make a snide remark about how shitty their season was last year, but I think better of it. Just because we won the College World Series, doesn’t give me bragging rights. They played just as hard. Their opponents held a slightly upper edge on them that had nothing to do with Kyle’s arm or his ability. He’s a damn good QB.

  “I’m sure you will. You have a great offensive line to protect you.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Is Cara here yet?” Lexie asks.

  “Her and Braxton are out back.”

  “You mind if I go say hi?” she asks Kyle. Wait. She’s asking for Kyle’s permission? I pause and replay that thought. Grinding my teeth, I bite back a snarl.

  “Not at all, babe.”

  Babe? It’s like I’ve entered an alternative universe. Since when did they advance to babe terms? They can’t have been seeing each other for more than a few days.

  “Happy birthday, Garret.” Lexie’s soft voice breaks my stupor. Our gaze lingers for a few beats too many.

  “Thanks.”

  She nods and then spins on her heels.

  “You’re okay with this, aren’t you?” Kyle’s question pulls me back toward him.

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

  He studies me for a long pause. “I guess there’s no reason.”

  “Nope, none at all. I’m good.” I turn to Miller. “I’m going to take this guy out first before putting him upstairs.”

  “Happy birthday,” Kyle calls after me.

  I grumble thanks and take Miller out the front door to do his business. The backyard is too crowded. By the time I lock Miller in my bedroom, I land on the bottom stairs and stop at the sight of Kyle and Lexie dancing on the impromptu dance floor. Red hot jealousy licks my bones. I have to fight the urge to storm over there and lay claim. But I can’t. She has every right to dance with whomever she wants. He moves closer to her backside. But do they have to be so damn close?

  I stalk over to the kitchen and grab a beer. As much as I told myself not to look, not to care, my gaze strays back to them. Lexie’s round ass is planted right against his groin, and they practically dry hump right on my damn floor. What the actual fuck? My hands clench the bottle tighter as his hand runs along the curve of her hips and lands on her waist. My jaw clenches. I can’t say a damn thing because this is my fault. I put the barrier between us. I created the opportunity for them. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. And I sure as hell don’t have to witness it.

  I scan the room looking for my single roommates, but Marla has Noah cornered against the wall. I should do him a solid and rescue him, but I’m not feeling it. He got himself into that mess. Braxton warned him away from her, and Noah didn’t heed his advice.

  I stalk out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Cara and Braxton sit on the far right of the patio. Grabbing a lawn chair, I crash their private party.

  “Everything all right?” Braxton asks.

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” I take a pull of the beer and watch the drunken game of football.

  Cara looks behind me as if expecting someone to be there. “Is Lexie still here?”

  A “yep” is all I provide as I settle further into the lawn chair.

  “Okay.” She kisses Braxton on the cheek. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Want another beer on my way out?”

  He tips his bottle and downs the scant amount. “I’ll take another one.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Braxton asks when Cara slips through the door.

  “I’m fine,” I grunt.

  “You just seem off.”

  “I thought you were a bio major not a psych major.”

  “It doesn’t take a genius to analyze what’s eating you.”

  “Don’t overthink it. I’m fine.”<
br />
  “When are you going to wake up?”

  I give him a side glance, knowing precisely what he means. “Don’t go there.”

  “I know you like to keep your personal life private, but you’ve got it bad for that girl. You’re running out of time.”

  I swallow another drink and stare out at the game as Keelan runs the football into the endzone. The hockey team makes up the defense. They have a clear disadvantage with Keelan playing for the opposing side. The hockey team may be good on the ice, but they can’t touch Keelan’s speed. “You don’t understand. There are things bigger than me.” And that’s all I’m going to disclose.

  “Fair enough.”

  “Here you go, babe.” Cara hands Braxton his beer, shutting down our conversation. He grabs her hips and plops her onto his lap.

  “I’ve missed you. You took forever.”

  “You have me all to yourself, now. Lexie’s leaving.”

  I try not to react. But damn if my mind doesn’t wander to where they could be going so early. “Did she leave with Kyle?”

  “Yeah.” Cara eyes me for a minute, but I don’t budge. No way am I letting anyone see how that affects me. But I fool no one.

  They resume talking, and I sip my beer.

  Worst fucking birthday ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Garret

  High School

  Senior Year

  Evil wears expensive suits and Armani shoes.

  I stared across the mahogany desk and into the eyes of a beast. “You can’t buy me off.”

  He shoved the check at me—the one written for two hundred thousand dollars. Funny, I would have thought his daughter’s life would fetch a higher price. I didn’t know if I should be offended he thought so low of me or appalled that he’d think I’d go through with it.

  “Think of what that amount of money could do for you.” He leaned back in his chair, still studying me. “You already have a scholarship in place. This money could help your parents. It could open up opportunities you wouldn’t otherwise have available.”

  “I love your daughter, sir. That doesn’t come with a price tag.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you know the bank your parents have their mortgage through?”

  My jaw ticked. The man staring at me with the smug ass grin was the absolute worst. I couldn’t believe he was going to be my child’s grandfather.

  He didn’t give me time to answer, not that he expected one. He wanted to make his point. Or should I say a threat? Because a threat was what he was doing. “Sunview Trust. The same financial institution I happen to run multiple transitions worth millions through. Do you know what happens when a bank calls your loan?”

  “They wouldn’t.” Would they? I wasn’t too sure how banking worked, but could a bank call your loan before the term limit was up? That sounded horribly wrong. I straightened my spine and kept my face expressionless. He wouldn’t intimidate me.

  “Ah, but they would. One call from me, and they’ll bend over backward to make me happy. They won’t risk losing their top clients.”

  “What is it you want me to do?”

  “Stay out of my daughter’s life.”

  “That’s impossible. She’s having my baby.”

  “Everything is possible, my boy.” He tilted his head, still eyeing me. “Having a child changes everything. Your chances of going to the majors will diminish.”

  I bristled. All I’d ever wanted to do was play professional baseball. I’d spent every summer day improving my craft. My parents took a second mortgage, the very one he was threatening, so I could play travel ball and pay for extra lessons. I was good. That wasn’t me being conceited. That was me being honest. I had a great shot. Having a child shouldn’t matter.

  “You will not get financial support from me. Every diaper, medical bill, formula, baby food, clothing will have to come from you. You’ll need to get a job to help support your baby and Livia. Scouts know the hardships of having families. Who do they think they’ll choose? The single guy who can dedicate all of his time to the team or the family guy struggling to feed his wife and kid?”

  He made valid points. Those were things I thought about, but there wasn’t anything I could do. I was in this situation, whether I chose it or not. “And what about Livia and my son?”

  The corners of his mouth raised to a smirk. He thought he won, but he didn’t know me at all. I just wanted to hear him admit what he planned on doing. “We can take care of the problem. Livia’s been having complications.”

  Livia was fine. The man was pure evil.

  I stood. I wasn’t wasting any more time. “We’re through here. I won’t tell Livia her dad would rather abort his grandchild and have her breakup with her boyfriend. The one who loves her. If she knew we had this conversation, it would crush her.”

  “Don’t be foolish.”

  “Don’t threaten my family again.” In case there was any merit to his threat, I needed to see if my parents could switch their loans to another bank.

  I made it to the door when Mr. Fernandez said, “Don’t think this is over. I guarantee I will do anything to save my daughter. Even if that means a child visits their dad in jail. Think over what I said.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lexie

  Current Day

  Garret: Fun Fact. I had a teacher one time tell me that one of my best traits was my perseverance. He said I’d achieve my goals. One day, I’ll figure them out.

  “Everything looks great.” I stare at the inside of the Habitat house in awe. The once empty shell is slowly becoming a home. I pull my gaze from the living room walls and smile at Grant. “It’s funny how a simple coat of paint can give a warm, welcoming vibe.”

  “And this is just the primer. Wait until the actual color gets applied.”

  “I’m impressed your crew accomplished so much.” Our chapter missed last weekend due to a mix up with the drywallers. I wasn’t sure if they would get the joints sanded and the coat of primer applied in time for us to paint today or not. Canceling worked to my advantage since that was Garret’s birthday party. But I hated to miss a weekend. We only get so many of them to volunteer.

  “The crew worked hard getting this prepared. The last thing I wanted to do was turn away your help twice.” Grant winks. I’ve dealt with a variety of personalities over these past few years of working on projects. My favorite project leader thus far is the guy standing in front of me.

  “I’m sure we could’ve found something to do.”

  “They’re installing the kitchen cabinets. Although, I doubt Marco wants too many people in his way. He gets a little crabby.”

  “Good thing the walls are ready then.”

  “All right, you’ll find the paint supplies in each room. If you need extra brushes or paint rollers, you’ll find the bulk supplies stored in the garage. Marco’s cousin operates a food truck featuring Mexican cuisine. He’s bringing in a feast for us at noon.”

  “Sounds awesome. Thanks, Grant. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome, but the gratitude goes to you. Your chapter has been a great help with this project. Despite the setbacks, we’re still on track for the March completion date.”

  He leaves me to myself. I glance around the bare walls one last time and then head to the master bedroom. With the football team playing an away game, we’re operating with a skeleton crew. Even Garret won’t show until later due to his morning practice.

  Once in the room, I open the can of paint and stir the creamy tan colors together. Not quite my color, but the soft hue will give the bedroom the warmth the new homeowners are seeking. I pour the mixed paint into the tray and work on cutting in the edges and corners. I try not to think about the kiss Garret and I shared in this very room. The one he basically called a mistake. That hurt. More than I wanted to admit.

  We haven’t had a chance to talk since his birthday party. I can use the excuse that we haven’t been alone. I wouldn’t even be lying since a steady stre
am of people kept coming up either before or after class. But the truth still remains. I simply don’t want to know who Livvy is.

  My stomach churns, but I only have myself to blame for feeling this way. I’ve brought on this anxiety myself. Welcomed it with open arms. I reload my brush with paint and continue cutting along the ceiling edge. A simple phone call fixes everything. But I’m a big chicken, and I’m not willing to let the idea of him go. Not yet.

  But what did he mean by figuring out his goals in his morning text? I thought he had his goals figured out. I feel bad not answering him back, but like I said, I’m a chicken—too scared to learn the truth.

  I’m rolling the paint on the second wall with my back to the door when footsteps sound behind me. Expecting Grant, I don’t bother to look.

  “The room is starting to take shape.” His deep baritone voice sends chills down my spine. Damn the way he affects me.

  I whip around to face him, paint splattering on the floor. Good thing the carpet hasn’t been laid yet. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until after lunch.”

  “Coach kept practice short today.” He walks to where I stand and hands me my favorite white Styrofoam cup. I can smell the chocolatey-coffee goodness from here.

  “You know me so well.”

  “I know what you like.” His gaze lingers a beat, and a shudder works its way through me. Standing in the same spot as the last time with his body this close is reminiscent of our first kiss. The feel of his lips on mine, warm and soft, plays through my mind. A torturous reminder that I’ll never be over him. What does that say about me?

  “Thanks.” I force myself to take a drink, snapping the trance he holds over me. I turn toward the wall, but I’m too late. He’s already read every raw emotion I’m unable to hide. I take another sip and then clear my throat. “I need to finish this wall, and then we can do the other two after lunch.”