My Only Reason (A Love is Love Book Book 1)

by Leigh Lennon

  “Who the hell is she?” He leans in and asks in a whisper.

  “Ry’s sister. And hands off, asshole.”

  He gives me his you’re so funny sort of laugh. Kelsey grabs for her towel, drying off, and my brother's eyes are fixated on her canary yellow swimsuit. “Dude, eyes off her tits.” I return with a whisper with Loretta close to us.

  “Hey, Crush,” she greets, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Is she minding her manners?”

  “Kels, you know she’s just like you, right?”

  “Ah, so what you’re telling me—she’s not minding her manners, at all.” She pulls Loretta in for a side hug, and her eyes widen at Jesse beside me.

  “Kels, this is my baby brother Jesse. Jess, this is Kelsey Hanley, Ry’s sister.”

  Ryder calls from the pool, “Ry’s baby sister, who Ry is very protective of.” His attempt to protect her is adorable as he even refers to himself in the third person.

  Kelsey covers Loretta’s eyes, then turns her body to her brother and gives him the bird.

  “I didn’t know you had two brothers. I’ve only met Sawyer,” she returns, her eyes fixating on the same athletic form I have.

  My brother elbows me, replying to Kelsey. “Because he’s saving the best for last.”

  I ignore the obvious flirt in his voice and give Ry a discreet head jut toward the house.

  He exchanges hugs with my brother and finds me in his room, shutting the door behind him.

  “Your brother is hitting on my sister.”

  “Yeah, sorry. He sort of showed up on my front porch last night, with an hour warning. Not sure what’s going on with him, but he’s back to his usual self when he sees a pretty girl.” My fingers snag his, and I pull him tight into me. His body is cold from being in the pool, moving straight into air conditioning.

  “And how the hell did those two horny men get invited?”

  His mouth crashes to mine. His answer isn’t as important as making up for the last couple of nights of being apart. His tongue slips into my mouth, and we’re crazy for one another. He pushes me against the wall, a loud thud from my large body hitting it hard. His hands reach for my ass, grinding his hips into mine. He moves out slowly. “Hey there, by the way. I missed you.”

  My head rests against his forehead. “Yeah, pretty boy, I missed you, too.” We stay like this for several beats, and I inhale him, the coconut of the sunscreen. “So, you going to answer my question?”

  “Oh, yeah, it was my concession to my sister. I told her I’d introduce her to a couple of my players. Solomon and Dex are decent men. And they are certainly flirting with her. Even my sister, the over-the-top confident lady she is, needs to be reminded she’s a pretty woman and not just a mother.”

  “You’re a good brother, baby.”

  “Yeah, I try.” His hand caresses my cheek. “Let me get out there. I’m grilling soon, so I’ll make sure the coast is clear and text you.”

  I place one last chaste kiss on his nose, then watch him as he leaves.

  “Hey, Crush, I’m not feeling well,” my brother calls from the top of the stairs. “I guess too much sun. You should go over and spend the evening with Ry. I’m going straight to bed. We’ll hang out in the morning.”

  It’s not a bad idea, but time will be limited now with Loretta and Kelsey taking up residency.

  I pick up my phone and smile at the name of the text I’d missed an hour ago.

  Pretty Boy: Kelsey is going out with some friends tonight. I didn’t know she had friends here, but apparently, there are a couple of gals she went to college with who called her last minute. I’m on Loretta duty, but she’s asleep upstairs. Kels said it was fine with you coming over and keeping me company once Jesse goes to bed.

  Me: Actually, Jesse isn’t feeling well. He’s already in bed. I’m on my way over. I’ll see you soon.

  And just like we always do, we fall into an easy pattern together. I know we’re meant to be because there’s no fuss when it comes to him. We just work. It’s how I know he’s forever my future.

  24

  Crush

  The heat of a southern summer eases up, and by the end of October and seven games, we’re undefeated. To say Dallas, Ry, and Solomon are carrying the team would be an understatement. They’re my go-to men and responsible for two-thirds of the touchdowns.

  It’s a bye weekend for our team, and I’ve wanted nothing more than to get Ry back at my cabin, this time with Brooklyn—though having my little peanut with us creates logistical challenges. And because I won’t ask her to lie to her mother, we have to be careful.

  “Ryda, our cabin is the best,” Brooklyn calls from her booster seat in the back of the truck. “It my happy space.”

  My daughter and her ability to articulate everything causes me to stifle a laugh. Ryder turns his face to her. “Yeah, princess, I know why. I’ve been there.”

  I swing a glare his way because he’s just gotten me into the doghouse with my daughter.

  “Pops,” she calls back to me, and I adjust the rearview mirror to take in her displeasure. “You bring Ryda and not me.”

  I mutter over to Ry. “Thanks, bro, for getting me in trouble.”

  He throws his hand over his mouth, not responding.

  “Yeah, peanut, one weekend when you couldn’t come. You had plans with your mom.” I’m going to hell for lying to my daughter, but I surely can’t tell her the truth.

  “Yeah, no more. I come every times now, Pops.”

  As much as I want my child with me, I plan to sneak up here from time to time to be with Ry. And now that I know what he feels like when I thrust inside him, I certainly won’t be agreeing to her demands.

  “You owe me extra hot chocolate for this, Pops.”

  Ryder gives me a side-eye glance, a silent she’s going to be hell as a teen.

  “Okay, peanut, I can handle this.”

  “Yeah, I thought so,” Brooklyn replies, and in her sassy response, I understand I got off easy this time. I’ll have to let Ryder know not to spill the beans to my negotiator of a daughter.

  “Ryda!” Brooklyn screams for Ry from her room, and I’d already put her to bed ten minutes ago.

  “She’s going to try to play you, pretty boy, so watch out.” And fuck, do I want my daughter to fall asleep so I can have some alone time with my guy.

  He gives me a sly smile and then a quick wink, meeting Brooklyn at the doorway leading to the back deck. “Hey, princess, what’s wrong?”

  My daughter knows what I’ll say and bypasses me altogether. “I can’t sleep. Can you read me story, Ryda?”

  My line of sight is on Brooklyn and Ry when he kneels on one knee. “So, I’ll tell you what, princess, I’ll read you two stories in the morning, but right now, you have to obey your pops and go to bed.” She pushes out her quivering lip, a little more than normal, for Ryder to witness this entire part of Brooklyn Christine. “And I’ll tell you what, I’ll even go tuck you back in bed, but you know what my parents taught me growing up?”

  Her crystal blue eyes knit together, and she doesn’t like the idea of Ry not doing her bidding. “What’s that?”

  “Well”—he stands and scoops her up in his strong hands—“when I was obedient, I sometimes got special rewards, like if you’re good, as I told you, instead of one story tonight, you’ll get two in the morning.”

  “But I don’t wants to go to bed.”

  He lets out a little chuckle, kissing her on the forehead. “Yeah, believe me, I did the same thing to my own parents, princess.”

  He’s at ease with her, and in their little interactions, it fills me with hope that he’ll one day be the other father figure she needs. He returns to the room in record time, sliding back into his chair opposite me. “So, how did I do?”

  I rub my chin, messing with the man for a second. “It’s like you may already know the same stall technique from Loretta,” I surmise.

  “Yeah, she’s a sneaky little thing, especially now that sh
e’s living with me.” He pauses for a second. “I’ve absolutely had my heart stolen by your daughter, big country. I hope you know I love her.”

  I lean forward, lacing my fingers with his. “Yeah, she’s pretty fond of you, too. I wonder what it will be like when we have more children.”

  “Do you think it’s crazy we’re going so fast?” Ry’s question hangs in the air as his voice cracks with a little bit of uncertainty lacing his tone.

  It’s my turn to reassure him. I push to my feet, and in one fluid motion, I pull him into my arms, out of the line of the sight of the glass doors leading to the house. “Hell no, Ry. When I’ve had six years to stew on what could have been with us, I know what this is, what we’re building to is long-lasting. So, yeah, a family, a fucking picket fence, and two wedding bands making us legally married is what I’m sure as fuck wanting in the future, and may I dare say, the immediate future, too.”

  Ry’s fingers dance across my almost beard. “I agree with you on every point you made, and let’s get to bed because I want you to fuck me and fuck me good.”

  I could blow my load right then at his crass words, but as we sneak into my bedroom and lock the door, Ry is already naked with the lube on the bed. As I crash my body to his, I know this forever is also my fucking dream come true.

  “Pops, Pops, I think we lost Ryda.” These words, along with loud bangs on my door is how I wake at seven a.m. in the morning, with Ryder snoozing next to me.

  “What do you mean, peanut? Lost Ryder?” I call out, but Ryder pulls an extra pillow over his head.

  “Make it stop, babe, make it stop,” Ry whispers, and it’s muffled with his face covered.

  “Ryda not in his room. Someone come in and take him. We call 911 now, Pops.”

  Under the pillow, he lets out a muffled laugh. “I’m glad you find this funny, Ryda,” I tease, using Brooklyn’s name for him. “Peanut, he’s not lost, and no one kidnapped him. He gets up early and runs in the morning. He’s fine. He’ll be back in an hour.”

  Ry moves the pillow. “Make it two hours, babe,” he commands in a quiet tone.

  “Do you think she’ll believe me? Let me get up, and I’ll take her down to the lake. It’ll give you time to make it look like you were running.”

  “Pops, who’s yous talking toos in theres?” Brooklyn calls out through the door. “And why is doors locked.”

  “Fuck, she’s demanding this morning,” Ry calls out pulling the pillow back over his head.

  “It’s the TV, peanut. Give me a second, and we’ll walk down to the lake to see if we can cross paths with Ryder.”

  Ry lets out a tired moan.

  “Okay, snaps to it, Pops. Ryda owes me two stories and I not patient.”

  “No, tell me it’s not so,” he groans again, and all I can do is laugh at my little general and her commands.

  Running into the bathroom, I’m brushing my teeth and lacing my tennis shoes at the same time, which I find almost impossible. “Get up, Ry. Don’t fall back to sleep,” I call out, this time, turning on the television.

  “Yeah, yeah, go take care of the dictator, and I’ll pull my sorry ass out of bed.”

  “It’s not sorry, it’s pretty fucking sexy.” He’s not given a chance to respond when I open the door, just enough to sneak out. Brooklyn is rummaging through the fridge, a carton of OJ in her hands.

  “I thirsty.”

  “Let me pour you some in a thermos, and we’ll go searching for Ryder.”

  “Good,” she begins, “I was worry because I sought someone kidnap him.”

  “You like Ryder?” I ask.

  “Nah,” she replies, pulling at her thermos, and zipping up the coat she has on. “I love Ryda. Wish he lived with us, Pops. He so nice to you.”

  Yeah, me, too, peanut. Me, too.

  Brooklyn’s introducing Ryder to another Barbie movie, and I’m cleaning the fish from our little endeavor from earlier. It’s something I can do in my sleep and with my eyes closed. The creak of the door opens and startles me mid-slice. I lose focus, cutting my hand.

  “Son of a bitch,” I cry out, instantly covering it.

  “Crush, babe?” Ry’s voice spikes in pitch, and from the corner of my eye, he’s rushing over to me.

  “It’s okay.” I attempt to appease him, putting pressure on the wound. It’s not my throwing hand. It’s funny how this is the first thing I think about.

  He has his arm linked in mine. “Easy, big guy, we need to go get you cleaned up.” And just like always, Ryder is there to take care of me. It’s what you do when you love someone, and besides Brooklyn, I don’t think there’s anyone in this world I love more than him.

  25

  Ryder

  I’m dragging my ass into the locker room after our first loss of the season. One week before our game in Detroit on Thanksgiving, and we lost by a field goal, a fucking field goal. And in the grumpiness of my man, he’s still the leader of the team, and he rallies everyone.

  He stands on a bench, clanging some of the lockers with his keys. “Listen, I have something to say.” And like it’s always been with any football team I’ve been a part of, the captain captures everyone’s attention immediately.

  “Okay, losing fucking sucked. I can’t say it didn’t. But if you were to tell me earlier in the season that going into the Thanksgiving game next week we’d be nine and one, I’d have fucking laughed you off the bus. And sure, who wouldn’t want to be that undefeated team who can make it to the big game, but it’s okay because we’re playing like a team, and this one loss will only drive us to do better next time. So, I don’t want any sob stories or excuses. Let’s get to the city of Detroit next week and fucking kick some Michigan ass.”

  The entire locker room erupts in cheers, and this is one of the many reasons the team follows him. It also is what Crush needs to understand that his team trusts him because he does lead them in a way very few captains can. I hope this gives him an understanding that most men will support his decision when he decides to come out of the closet. But until then, I’ll follow him because as he’s proved in more ways than one, he’s worthy of being followed.

  Keegan O’Healy has us huddled in the front of the plane on our way to Detroit. As the coach of all the wide receivers, he’s covering a couple of last-minute changes to our roster and plays.

  He dismisses the meeting of the minds but calls after me. “Hey, Hanley.”

  “Yeah, Coach?” I return, rotating my head toward the back of the plane, where my eyes catch sight of Crush in his normal seat whenever we travel.

  “You’ve carried the team and have done some fantastic shit for us.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “Why do I sense there’s a but in there, Coach?” I ask.

  “There’s not a but...” He pauses, but he’s not done. “I just want to make sure your mind is clear.” He gives a little head jut toward Crush, in the back of the plane.

  “My mind is as clear as it’s been in years, Coach.” But this makes me wonder what the hell he’s talking about, and if we’ve slipped in some of our other away games as we continue to sneak time together.

  “Just be careful, Ry. I know this isn’t new to you, but…”

  My eyebrows arch, silently asking him the question I can’t verbally articulate.

  “Don’t worry, as far as I know, I’m the only one who suspects anything. But there’s a lot on the line for him, so be sure you know what you’re doing.” His head falls to his chest. “Be cautious, is all I’m saying.”

  I won’t acknowledge his accuracy when it comes to Crush and myself, but of course, when he sees me heading straight for my man, I’m confirming his suspicions.

  The pillow is cradling his head against the bulkhead of the plane. The blanket is wrapped around his entire body, and with my approach, red splotches crawl onto his face. This is where I want to be the overprotective lover who swoops in, caressing his face, and makes a plan. But with more than Dallas knowing our intentions, I casually sit
a couple of seats over from him, on the same row.

  “Crush,” I call but don’t move my face to him.

  “Go away, let me sleep,” he grumbles, and in my periphery, he opens his eyes.

  “You look sick, dude. Are you okay?”

  He doesn’t answer me at first. My face whips over to his, and a smirk peeks through his beautiful lips. “Dude? Really?”

  “Yeah, just answer the question, dude.” I mock, tapping my foot impatiently. “Seriously, babe.” I lower my voice. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He’s been gray since I saw him this morning, but he’d never answer my questions directly about his paleness.

  “I’m not feeling well. Let me get to the hotel, and you can hold me all night. I’m sure I’m having sex withdrawals.”

  We’ve been challenged lately to make time for one another. Kelsey living with me, and the odd schedule with Brooklyn recently spending weeknights over at his house have caused logistical challenges.

  My neck stiffens, and I move it from side to side. Now that he’s semi-awake, his skin pebbles in sweat, and his red splotches have become deeper and darker.

  “I’m serious, Crush, you look like shit.” Out of reflex, I touch the top of his head. “You’re burning up, babe.” It’s so easy, so natural, and it falls out of my mouth.

  “I’m fine. I just need a good night's sleep and some attention,” Crush returns.

  “You’re not fine.” I lean my head into the aisle of the plane. “Hey, Dex,” I call out to our center, who’s two rows in front of us.

  “Yeah, diva?” he asks, and it’s become my go-to name for everyone on the team.

  “Crush is burning up. Can you run up and get the doc for him?” Dex Leslie, a big motherfucker, peels himself from the seats that hold him. He peers over at my man. “QB, you look like shit, man.”