Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5)

by Jami Davenport

  Brett barked out the signals in the huddle like a field general giving orders to his men. The team reacted accordingly, looking to him for direction. He took the snap, dropped back a few steps and lobbed an easy pass to Bruiser, who dragged half the Rams’ defense with him for six hard yards.

  Second and four.

  Another handoff and the defense was ready. They dropped Bruiser for a loss of two yards.

  On the next play, Brett stood his ground in the pocket, even though he saw a linebacker bearing down on him from the corner of his eye. Ramsey raced down the field, and Brett put it on the money just as he was slammed to the ground by 250 pounds of straining muscle.

  Brett raised his head in time to see Derek catch the ball as if it were a Sunday game in the park and gallop untouched for a touchdown. Brett leapt to his feet and sprinted down the field to join the guys mugging Derek.

  His teammates gathered round for back slapping, fist bumping, and high-fives. Brett ran back to the sidelines feeling on top of the world. He hazarded a glance into the stands. Estie stood on her feet with the rest of the fans, clapping and screaming. She was looking straight at him. Despite the distance, their eyes met. Her beautiful face was lit up brighter than the stadium during a Monday Night Football game. She blew him a kiss.

  Brett grinned and saluted her. Right now his life could not get any better than this. The Jacks were on their way, and Brett Gunnels was proving to the doubters what he’d known in his heart all along—he was a damn good quarterback.

  The Rams fought back in the second half, but the Jacks held on to win twenty-one to seventeen.

  Local and national sportscasters hijacked Brett on his way to the locker room. When he finally got there, the team was standing in a circle around HughJack. As soon as they saw him, they cheered, and Brett had to smile. This was possibly the best day in his life.

  “Get your ass over here, Gun,” HughJack motioned for Brett to join him in the center of the circle. Brett did. Not altogether comfortable with the attention, he was too high from the win to lay low. He deserved this celebration—the entire team did.

  HughJack blew his whistle to get their attention. “So guys, we have two game balls to present. Murphy, this one’s yours for those three sacks and pretty much disrupting their offense every time it started to click.”

  Murphy took the ball in his big hands and held it close to his chest as if it were a baby. A big, broad grin split across face.

  “Gun, you outplayed them today. Showed what you were made of. Kept battling, kept competing, and never let up. You were on fire. This one’s for you.” HughJack tossed it at Brett, catching him off guard. Brett juggled the ball but finally got control. He held the ball up in the air.

  The locker room erupted into cheers.

  Brett Gunnels was going to the playoffs as the starting quarterback of the Seattle Lumberjacks.

  Chapter 8

  Chop Block

  Estie had blown Brett a kiss.

  What had she been thinking? In front of her sister and all the other Jacks’ women, no less. Freddie didn’t notice. She been too busy arguing with Veronica over something, but eagle-eyed Lavender did. She raised one eyebrow, flicked her gaze to Brett and back to Estie, as if to say, “You two have something going?”

  Estie shrugged and avoided Lavender’s gaze. Brett was just a friend, despite her attraction to the man. After all, nothing wrong with considering a guy attractive as long as she didn’t act on it. She looked up to find Lavender still staring at her. “We’re friends.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that story before. Way too many times. In fact, I wrote that story a time or two myself.” Lavender snorted and drank from her beer cup.

  “What story?” Freddie narrowed her eyes and looked from one to the other.

  “I never said anything about a story.” Lavender was the epitome of innocence. “Did you, Estie?”

  “Nope, not me.”

  “I thought I heard—”

  “How could you hear anything in this stadium as loud as it is?” Estie graced her sister with her sweetest smile, the same one she’d used as a little girl after she’d eaten the last four cookies from the cookie jar.

  Freddie shook her head and turned away from her sister. Estie breathed a sigh of relief. She’d averted that minor disaster for now.

  After the game, the little gang of Lumberjacks’ women swept Estie along with them. Freddie declined the invitation to join the group, which was fine with Estie. The women had reserved a private room at the Pike Street House, a fun pub a few blocks from the stadium. Before Estie knew it, team members started flowing into the large room. She tried to hide her disappointment when Brett wasn’t one of the gang of jubilant athletes.

  She didn’t dare ask if anyone knew where he was, but Lavender read her mind, tugged on Tyler’s shirt and asked, loud enough for Estie to hear. “Where’s your star pupil?”

  Tyler grinned like a proud papa. “He’ll be here. Doing another interview. If we don’t watch it, he’ll be channeling Bruiser’s ego and modeling jock straps and boxers.”

  “Hey, now. I heard that,” Bruiser, with his arm around Mac, his wife, clinked beer glasses with Tyler. “I’m retired from modeling. If Brett wants the job, he’s welcome to it.”

  “What job?” As if his ears had been burning, Brett pushed through the crowd, big grin on his face and happier than Estie had ever seen him.

  She waited, not too patiently, for everyone to have their time with him before she slid up to his side. “Good game. I knew you could do it.”

  “Thanks.” He tipped his beer glass to hers and cocked his head. “You helped me. Did you realize that?”

  “I did?” She pointed at her chest and did her best impression of a lil ol’ me southern girl.

  “Yeah.” He almost seemed embarrassed as he struggled for words.

  “I don’t think I had a thing to do with it. That win was one hundred percent you.” She couldn’t help beaming. She was proud of him, so proud.

  “Not really.” His sexy smile set off little bottle rockets inside her.

  A sad, quiet Brett was sexy, but this confident, grinning version set her heart on fire, melted her limbs, and travelled directly south of the zipper on her jeans.

  “Hey, I’ll take credit if it makes you feel better. A win is a win.” She jerked her head in Tyler’s direction. “My brother’s acting like the master with a protégé who’s finally come into his own.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call me a protégé.” Brett chuckled as his gaze swept to Tyler, who was recounting his role in the last several plays and how Brett did it just like Tyler taught him. “He’s eating this up, isn’t he?”

  “Ty’s always been an attention slut.”

  “But you’re not like that. You’re more like me. You’d rather fade into the background.” An astute observation from a man who saw a lot and said little.

  “That comes from being sandwiched between two overbearing siblings.”

  “Yeah, I know that story.”

  “You’re a middle child?” She didn’t know a thing about his family. He never talked about them. Ever.

  “Sure am, and from a blended family. My dad and stepmother married when I was five. I have two older siblings, one younger, and then two half siblings.”

  “Wow, that’s a full house for holidays.”

  Brett nodded and actually laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “Where do they live?” She had this overwhelming urge to know everything about him.

  “My parents live north of Everett, but the rest of the family is all over the place, including Seattle.”

  “They don’t come to your games?”

  Brett shook his head, and his expression closed off. “We aren’t close. I only hear from them if they want something.”

  “That’s too bad.” Estie swatted down her urge to pry further. Brett was a very private guy and obviously, he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “It is what it is. But, hey, ton
ight we celebrate. Tomorrow I get back at it. Could I buy you another drink?” He indicated her now-empty glass.

  “Sure. Flat Tire Ale.”

  “You got it.” He grinned, showing off dimples she hadn’t realized he had and lighting up those pale blue eyes.

  She watched Brett weave through the crowd, stopping several times to accept his teammates’ praise as he moved to the lone bartender manning a small bar in the corner.

  “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

  Estie jumped guiltily, knowing she’d been caught red-handed lusting after Brett. With an innocent smile pasted on her face, she turned to Lavender. “They’re all cute. Except Tyler, and he doesn’t count because he’s my brother.”

  Lavender laughed. “He counts to me.”

  “I know.” Why Lavender put up with her asshole brother she never did quite understand, other than love must definitely be blind. She had to admit she loved watching Lavender put Tyler in his place and make him heel on command. Estie had no doubt Ty loved Vinnie, as he liked to call her. You could tell by the way he looked around the room for her when she wasn’t at his side, and the goofy smile he wore whenever he caught sight of her. She wished Richard looked at her like that, but it wasn’t in his makeup. Not Richard. Not in a million years.

  “It’s okay to be attracted to him, you know. Maybe your body and your brain are trying to tell you something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like plans can change.”

  “I’m doing what I want to do with my life.”

  Lavender shook her head, her red mane of hair bouncing with every shake. “No, you aren’t. I’ve been around this family long enough to wonder why you’re with Richard.”

  “Everyone wonders that.”

  “Then why are you?”

  “He fits in my life. We complement each other.”

  “Seriously? I don’t buy it. Maybe it’s a case of the boring devil you know is better than the sexy devil you don’t. You aren’t a risk taker. You like control, and Richard is more than happy to perpetuate your illusion of control.”

  “He puts up with my penchant to have every ‘I’ dotted and every ‘T’ crossed.”

  “Life has a way of forcing change. Just wait. You’ll see.” Lavender sighed. “Let’s grab a table before they’re all gone.”

  Estie nodded, grateful to drop the conversation, and followed Lavender to a tall table with barstools. She slid onto the one next to Lavender with a clear view of the room, especially Brett. Only Lavender, by the look on her face, wasn’t done yet after all.

  “Just keep this in mind: do you want to wake up next to Richard the rest of your life or a yummy man like Brett? A man you can truly share your life and your love of animals with.”

  Estie opened her mouth to answer, but clamped it shut when Ty and Brett came over. Ty was talking Brett’s ear off with a running play-by-play analysis of the game, good and bad.

  Brett glanced at Estie and raised one eyebrow, one corner of his mouth lifted upward as he tried to keep from smiling.

  Lavender rushed to distract Tyler as the two men took seats at the table for four. “I’m hungry. Let’s order dinner.”

  Tyler blinked a few times, as if trying to acclimate himself to life beyond football. “Uh, sure.” He picked up the menu and buried his dark head in it.

  Estie winked at Lavender, and Lavender winked back.

  Brett seemed oblivious to any of it, probably still flying high from the win. Estie couldn’t blame him. He deserved to bask in the glory.

  Both men ordered bacon burgers and fries. Estie had chicken strips and Lavender, being cursed with a petite body she obviously wanted to keep that way, settled for a salad.

  “We’ll move Brett in on Tuesday.”

  Estie’s attention shot to her brother, and she blinked. She’d been too busy staring into Brett’s eyes to process what Tyler had said without taking a moment to think about it. “Oh, okay. That sounds great.”

  “Sounds good to me, too. I’m almost all packed. I don’t have much stuff anyway.” He didn’t take his eyes off Estie.

  She wanted to grab his hand and hold onto it, but she didn’t dare. “I’ll come over early and help you with the animals. Bongo will be neurotic for a while in his new digs. African Grays don’t like change.”

  “He’s always neurotic.” Brett grinned at her. His grin started with his lips tipping up to reveal white teeth, travelled to his twinkling eyes which crinkled at the corners, and finished with a tilt of his head. God, the man was gorgeous, not drop-dead like Tyler, or movie-gorgeous like Bruiser, but gorgeous like a real man, rugged and masculine. A man a girl could depend on, lean on, and trust to have her back. A true gentleman.

  Only then did Estie notice Tyler’s shrewd gaze narrowing as if assessing both of them. Her brother’s jaw tightened, and he frowned.

  Leaping to the rescue, Lavender grabbed Tyler’s hand and pulled on it. “You promised me a dance.”

  “On crutches?”

  “You can manage. You’re an athletic guy. We’ll slow dance.”

  With one more sharp glance at Estie and Brett, Tyler followed Lavender to the postage-stamp dance floor and pulled her into his arms. In the blink of an eye, he seemed to have completely forgotten about his sister and Brett as he buried his face in Lavender’s hair and nuzzled her neck.

  “They’re good together, which still surprises me.” Brett rubbed the back of his neck and turned back to Estie.

  “I used to wonder why she put up with him, but then I realized that they have this weird give and take going and are crazy about each other. I’ve never seen Ty like this with a woman, not even with his old girlfriend, Cass.” Cass and Ty had broken up and gotten back together too many times to count, as if addicted to the make-up sex.

  “He pretty much worships her, doesn’t he?”

  Estie nodded. “Yeah, he does. I just hope he makes an honest woman out of her soon before she gets tired of his unwillingness to make that final commitment.”

  “Yeah, what is up with that?”

  “I’m not really sure, but whatever it is, all three of us seem to have the same affliction.”

  Brett glanced down at her ring. “But you’re getting married.”

  “Yeah. I am. The first Harris to parachute from the plane and take the dive.”

  “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

  “Pre-wedding jitters. Richard and I still have some things to iron out. Like the animals.”

  “The animals are a problem?”

  “He doesn’t like animals much, but he’s trying.”

  “You’re marrying a man who doesn’t like animals?” Brett stared at her as if she’d just told him she’d fallen in love with a serial killer.

  “Weird, huh? He’ll grow to like them. His family didn’t allow pets when he was growing up. He just needs to adjust to them.”

  Brett’s skeptical expression said it all. He didn’t believe her line of bullshit any more than she believed it herself.

  “Yeah, right.” He started to say something else when Lavender and Tyler rejoined them. That was the last of their private conversation that evening, but Estie couldn’t stop stealing little glances at Brett. And when his eyes met hers on several occasions, it wasn’t a just glance he stole but little pieces of her malnourished heart.

  * * * * *

  Rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs, Brett stood on his father’s front porch and stared at the closed door for a long time. He raised his fist to knock then lowered it. This was stupid. Either he was a coward or an idiot, take your pick. He brought his hand up again and rapped, a strong, confident rap which contradicted the insecurities battering his insides.

  He shifted from one foot to the other, leaning slightly toward the window next to the door, but he couldn’t see anyone inside, yet he thought he heard a TV.

  He’d been stupid to come here, yet he had anyway.

  His stepmother opened the door, looking every inch the harried housewif
e, as usual. The women in his family wallowed in drama and self-pity as if emotions were the only things worth living for. She looked him up and down without a word, not the least bit surprised and not happy to see him, as if she didn’t give a shit about him one way or another. She probably didn’t. She’d been the only mother he’d had since he’d been five, but she’d never been much of a mother to him or his two siblings. He felt a familiar pinch to his insides whenever he thought of his real mother. He had only fleeting memories of being held in her lap as she read him a story, of the smell of her lilac perfume mingled with the scents of a hospital as the cancer slowly ate away at her body. To this day he couldn’t handle the smell of either.

  “Your father’s in the family room.” Anne Gunnels pointed in the general direction as if Brett didn’t know where the family room was. He’d lived in this little house all of his childhood.

  Anne turned her back on him and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Gathering his courage and stuffing his uncertainties in a duffle bag, he walked down the short, narrow hall, past faded pictures of his family—but not one of him in recent years.

  Brett found his father sitting in his recliner watching ESPN. Some things never changed.

  “Hey, Dad.” Brett waited for his father to acknowledge him.

  Nothing. Jerry Gunnels stared straight ahead, not even blinking. No reaction at all to seeing his son for the first time in months. Brett shouldn’t have been surprised, but it hurt just the same.

  He entered the room and sat down on the couch, feigning interest in the TV, but not really seeing it. Every second that passed the silence grew more awkward until Brett couldn’t stand it anymore. “Dad, I’m going to be a starting quarterback in the playoffs.” As if his father, a sports addict, didn’t know that fact already.

  Jerry grunted and took a swig of his beer.

  Brett pressed on. He hadn’t come here to succumb to cowardliness. “I have a pair of tickets. Fifty-yard line. I thought you and one of your cronies might like them.” Brett fished the tickets out of his jeans and held them out to his father.