“No,” Brody said. “I’m in no condition to play.”
“There’s the thing,” Simon said. “It’s a different game. At least for kickers and punters. All you have to do is kick. They put the ball down and you kick it through the posts. Or you drop-kick it. They call that punting. Once or twice, they might knock you down, but if they touch you while you’re kicking, it’s a penalty. Brody, you’ve got a way with that foot of yours. It would be a shame to see it go to waste.”
Payton turned to Brody, trying to read his expression. But she could see nothing that indicated how he felt. She expected him to be happy, or at least curious about the possibility. “I don’t know. I was going to look into that surgery you told me about, but I’m not sure I-”
“You might not need the surgery,” Simon said. “You don’t have to carry the ball. There’s no cutting or quick direction shifts. You might have to tackle, but that’s really not your job.” He paused. “I can ring him up, if you like. I’m sure he’d be interested in seeing you.”
“I’ll think about it,” Brody said.
“Don’t think too long,” Simon warned. “He’s only going to be here for a few weeks and then he’s back to the States.”
Brody shook Simon’s hand, and as they walked back to the car, he was strangely silent. Payton wasn’t sure whether he wanted her opinion on the matter, and decided to wait for him to speak first. But when he didn’t, she decided to start the conversation. “That was interesting,” she said. “But what is a tingle? And why do you have to give this guy one?”
“A phone call,” he explained. “You know, there have been a couple of Aussies that have gone over to play in America. One was a kicker. He did pretty well.”
“Do you want to play again?”
“Sure. But Aussie football is what I do.”
“Have you ever seen an American game?”
“The Super Bowl once or twice. I never really paid much attention.” He shook his head. “It’s a crazy idea. They’re not going to want anything to do with me once they see my knee.”
“Maybe you could wear long pants. And show them how you can kick first, before you tell them about your injury.”
Brody chuckled. “That might work. But the first thing they’re going to ask is whether I’ve been seriously injured.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the guy,” Payton said.
Brody opened the door of the car for her and helped her inside. “I’ll think about it.”
As they made their way out of the parking lot, Brody was lost in his thoughts. He held her hand, his fingers woven through hers, and every now and then, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, as if to remind himself she was still there.
Payton drew a deep breath and then relaxed back into the seat. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about the possibility of him moving to the States. Here in Australia, she was the visitor. If things didn’t work out, she could always leave. But having Brody in the U.S. seemed like such a serious shift in their relationship.
It was silly to worry over it now, though. When she had to make a choice, she’d make a choice. And until then, she intended to enjoy her time with Brody.
B RODY STARED at the ceiling above the bed in the early-morning light. Sleep hadn’t come easily for him, though he and Payton had exhausted themselves making love before she’d curled up in his arms and drifted off.
Instead, his head was filled with thoughts about the day’s revelations. His life had taken so many sharp turns lately, he shouldn’t be surprised at this one. Playing in America would give him a chance to get his life set up again. He’d be working, making a decent salary. He could save his money, instead of blowing it on expensive toys and exotic vacations. He’d have something to offer Payton then. But the chances of getting a job in the U.S. were slim, especially considering his injury.
Brody rolled over onto his side and stared at her. Her hand was curled next to her face, her hair tumbled over her shoulder. He still thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. There were moments when he believed he’d never be able to do without her, that waking up with her by his side and falling asleep with her in his arms was the only thing that mattered.
He reached out and smoothed his hand over her hip, her skin like silk beneath his fingertips. How was it that she suited him so perfectly? Whether they were living on the station or here in Fremantle, their lives seemed to mesh flawlessly.
He’d had his share of high-maintenance women-girls like Vanessa, who’d demanded far too much and offered far too little. They’d been extras in his life, like fast cars and expensive electronics, something to acquire and then grow bored with over time.
But he’d never felt as if he’d acquired Payton. She’d appeared in his life one day and decided to stay. He was well aware that she might choose to leave at any time. He wasn’t in control of this relationship, she was. And maybe that’s what kept the boredom at bay.
He was almost afraid to believe they might make it work. He’d always assumed he’d find the right woman, but he’d imagined it would happen at a distant point in the future, not now. She was the right woman. Brody was fairly certain of that.
So what was required to keep her? He needed a way to support them both, to give her a comfortable lifestyle. Without a job, he could give her four or five years. With a job, maybe a lifetime. And he needed to make sure her fiancé was out of her life for good. He ought to encourage her to contact her parents and smooth out the problems there. And then he needed to plead his case to her family.
Hell, they’d probably be suspicious of him from the start. He didn’t come from some blueblood line with money coming out of his arse. He was a working-class bloke without a proper education. But he had one thing going for him-there wasn’t another man in the world who loved Payton more than he did.
He drew a deep breath. He loved her. It was that simple. Brody gasped, stunned by the revelation. Love was the only way to describe how he felt.
But how did she feel? Payton had been silent on that issue. She seemed content to just go along as they were-lovers, friends, companions. She lived in the present, avoiding any discussion of what was to come.
Why was that? Brody wondered. Was it because she thought their relationship had no future? Or was it because she didn’t want to face returning to her fiancé and family? If she truly loved him, she would have given him some hint by now. Every other woman he’d known was ready to profess love after the second date.
Maybe he just didn’t measure up. Maybe she was biding her time until some other man caught her eye. Brody rolled over on his back and pressed his palm to his chest, aware of the ache in his heart. He’d never loved a woman before, so he’d never risked getting hurt. For the first time in his life, he was afraid. What if she didn’t want him? Would he ever be able to forget her and move on?
He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and pushed himself to his feet. Raking his hands through his hair, he wandered over to the windows and stared out at the river and the lights twinkling from the opposite side.
If he was going to make this work, he needed a plan. Hell, Callum was the planner in the family. Maybe he ought to go to his older brother for advice. Worst-case scenario, he could always work the station. They’d have a home and Payton seemed to enjoy living there. Best case, he’d find a job that allowed them to live wherever they wanted, on the station, in Fremantle, in Manhattan, if they chose.
Sighing softly, Brody walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabbed a jug of orange juice and unscrewed the top, then took a long drink. Suddenly, he was wide awake, his mind spinning with the possibilities. If he couldn’t play, maybe he could coach. Or he could be an analyst for one of the networks. Or a sports presenter on the local news.
Brody strode into the living room and picked up the remote, then flipped through the stations until he came to ESPN Australia. The network played mostly American sports, but there was a nightly program that focused on
Aussie sports. He could talk football and rugby and make a paycheck doing it. And if ESPN didn’t want him, perhaps he might convince someone to hire him at Seven Network.
He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. His coaches and friends had all told him he could find a career outside football, but he’d been too stubborn to listen to them, too angry about his injury to even consider the alternatives. But now he had a reason to get serious about his future.
He switched the telly over to a DVD of his rookie season, listening to the analysts as they described the action. His attention shifted to the twenty-year-old kid in the green guernsey. It was hard to believe he’d ever been that young. Though it was only six years ago, it seemed like a lifetime.
“What are you doing out here?”
He turned to see Payton standing in the bedroom doorway. She’d pulled on the Dockers jumper he’d bought her at the game and she looked irresistible in it, her hair a riot of curls around her face.
“Just watching some telly,” he said. He patted the sofa cushion next to him and she crossed the room and curled up beside him.
“Is this your team?” she asked.
“Yep. See, there I am. Number fifteen. Watch. I’ll score a goal.” He waited, knowing every play by heart. This was the game when he’d broken the season scoring record for rookies. “There. There it is.”
“Yay for you,” Payton said, patting his belly. “Good onya.”
He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss into her fragrant hair. “I want you to stay with me,” he murmured.
“I’m not sleepy,” she said, mistaking his request.
“No, I mean, I want you to stay with me. I want you to live with me, here, in Australia. I don’t want you to go back to the States.” He’d made the same request back at the shack that night she got lost in the bush. But then, he’d just wanted reassurance. Now, he wanted to focus on the future.
She pushed back and looked up into his eyes, her brow creased in an intense frown. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise me,” he said. “I don’t want to wake up some morning and find you gone. I want to make this work.”
She sighed softly, then glanced away. “I’m here because I want to be, Brody. If I didn’t want to be here, I’d tell you.”
“Would you? You ran out on your wedding. You didn’t tell your fiancé that you didn’t want to be there.”
“That was different,” Payton said.
“How? Tell me how.”
“I-I…” She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “I should have been brave enough to tell him the truth. I don’t have any excuses for that. But I’m different now. I’m not afraid to speak up for myself, for what I want. I promise, I’ll tell you if I want to leave.”
It wasn’t the promise he was looking for, but it was as good as he was going to get. Brody would have to be satisfied that it was enough. And yet he wasn’t. Until Payton faced her family and her ex-fiancé, he’d always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone to turn up and lure her back to the States.
Did he really want to live with that kind of doubt? A sensible, secure guy would tell her to go back and clear up the mess she’d made and then return to him, free of any entanglements. But Brody had never cared for any woman the way he cared for Payton. And he didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a moment, much less send her toddling back to Mr. Moneybags.
“Do you ever think about him?” Brody asked.
“Sam?”
Sam. There. She’d said his name. How many times had she said that name? How many times with love in her eyes and how many times with passion in her touch? She had a whole history with this man, a life that Brody knew nothing about.
“Never mind.” He pushed to his feet. “I don’t need to know. I really don’t want to know.” He raked his hands through his hair again, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable, standing in front of her stark naked. This was exactly why he couldn’t allow himself to believe in a future with Payton.
She might be able to handle it, but he’d surely find a way to fuck it up. “I’m going to go for a run,” he said.
“But, it isn’t even light out.”
Brody shrugged. “It will be by the time I get back.”
“I could come with you.”
“No. I just need to clear my head.” He walked back to the bedroom and put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, then grabbed his trainers from the closet floor. When he returned to the living room, she was sitting where he’d left her, her knees pulled up beneath the oversize jumper.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” he said. “Why don’t you get a little more sleep and then we’ll go to breakfast.”
Brody slipped out of the door before she could reply to his suggestion, then strode down the hall to the lift. He stepped inside, releasing a tightly held breath as the doors closed in front of him.
There was no sense trying to plan his future right now. Until he found work, it would be best to keep his feelings for Payton in check. He could enjoy their time together, enjoy the passion they shared, but anything beyond that would be a risk.
8
P AYTON STROLLED slowly through the Fremantle Market, searching for inspiration for the evening meal. She’d already purchased prawns at the fish market on the harbor and now she was studying the vegetables that filled the stalls.
Though they’d only been in Fremantle for a week and a half, she’d already settled into life with Brody. They’d spent their days touring the city and surfing and trying new restaurants. Yesterday, they’d sailed a friend’s boat to Rottnest Island and ridden bicycles over the picturesque roads. Brody had even rented a room at the old hotel where they had their lunch and enjoyed a “nap” before continuing their tour.
Payton smiled to herself. Though they’d stripped off their clothes before crawling into bed, neither one of them had had any intention of sleeping. Instead, they’d spent a lazy hour kissing and touching before they made love.
It had been a wonderful day filled with long walks and quiet conversation. Brody was a complicated man, troubled by his own doubts and worries. He’d confessed that he was toying with the idea of calling the NFL scout and talking to him about a job.
Though she could sense his tension over scheduling a tryout, Payton tried to reassure him that even if it didn’t work out, it didn’t represent a failure. In the end, Brody made the call.
The NFL scout had arranged to meet him at the Oval tomorrow. Brody had nearly canceled, but she’d convinced him she would be there when he came home, exactly as she was when he left, whether the tryout was a success or not.
The more she got to know Brody, the more she realized how vulnerable he was when it came to his emotions. He seemed so self-assured on the outside, but inside, he was a tangle of insecurities. There were moments when she caught him watching her, times when she woke up and he was clutching her hand so tightly it hurt. Was he really that afraid of losing her?
Though Payton had left a mess in Fiji, she didn’t have any plans to return home. She would have to call at some point and had resolved to do that by the end of the week. The private investigator was probably still searching for her and it wouldn’t do to waste more of her parents’ money or cause them any more worry.
By now, they should be comfortable with the fact that she wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon. They’d have accepted the notion that Sam would not be her husband and that she would not be living a comfortable life in Connecticut, raising their grandchildren and attending charity events.
She shook her head, a tiny shudder running through her at the thought. How close to that life had she come? If she’d pushed aside her fears and married Sam, it would have been her future-everything all planned out in front of her.
But her life with Brody was exciting. Every day was a new adventure. And though he worried about his career, Payton was truly convinced that she could live anywhere with him and be happy. She loved working at the station. A
nd she loved Fremantle, too. But most of her affection for both places had come from being with Brody.
Payton strolled over to a vegetable stall and chose some colorful sweet peppers and fingerling potatoes. She waited for the vendor to put them in a bag for her. Then she moved on to the nearest fruit stall and picked out some red oranges, knowing they would make a wonderful tangy-sweet sauce for the prawns. At the last second, she picked up a kilo of strawberries for dessert.
It wasn’t a long walk back to Brody’s apartment and the weather was pleasant. She’d bought only enough for the evening meal and didn’t mind carrying the bags.
As she approached Brody’s building, she noticed a dark sedan parked across the street. A man was standing against the front fender, his arms crossed over his chest. He saw her almost immediately and Payton’s breath caught as he removed his glasses.
“Sam,” she whispered to herself. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as he slowly crossed the street to where she stood. She blinked, hoping that she was seeing things, but as he came closer, Payton knew he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
“Hello, Payton,” he said. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, then brushed a kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, Sam. What are you doing here?”
He gave her a cool look, his icy blue eyes cutting through her. “What do you think, Payton?”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I’ll wait for your answer. I’m used to that.”
His words dripped with sarcasm. She hadn’t realized until now, but that was one of things she truly hated about Sam. When he was angry, he got nasty. She’d always just accepted it as part of his nature, but now she realized there were men who didn’t feel it necessary to patronize the women they loved.
“I’d assume you’re looking for me,” she said, keeping her voice calm and detached. “How did you find me?”
“Your parents and I hired a private investigator. They thought you might have had a-a breakdown.”
Brody Page 14
