Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5)

by Jami Davenport

  Chapter 16

  Tackled for a Loss

  Tyler might be right about Brett choosing a team based on her needs, not his. God, there was nothing Estie hated more than Tyler being right. He was such a douche when he got one up on someone.

  Tyler’s points were driven home a few days later when she heard Brett arguing on the phone with his agent regarding the merits of San Francisco over Miami.

  She should’ve let it go for now, kept her mouth shut until after the big game, but she didn’t. After all, he couldn’t sign with a team right now anyway. Yet her obsession with clear-cut planning prevented her from allowing him to continue down the path he’d laid out to his agent. She opened her big trap after he cut off the call.

  “Brett?”

  He glanced up at her. “Yeah?”

  “Why did you tell your agent that you’re not interested in Miami when they’re the obvious choice?”

  “Because San Francisco is close enough to a vet school for us to be together.” He smiled hopefully at her.

  Estie held her tongue. She’d never planned on this kind of confrontation with the game looming. The timing sucked.

  Brett caught her expression and pushed, not willing to let it rest. “What? What’s wrong with that? We are going to be together, aren’t we?” He fisted his hands at his sides, his face turned to granite, as if he were steeling himself for bad news. As if he already knew.

  “You have to make the right decisions for your career, ones that don’t have a damn thing to do with me.” There, she’d said it.

  “But my choices have a lot to do with you.”

  “They can’t. You have to do this for you, not for me.” She felt sick to her stomach, like she might throw up any moment. It felt like her life had started to cave in around her, and nothing she said now would stop the destruction.

  “But I love you.”

  “I know you think you do. Let’s put this conversation on hold so you can concentrate on the game. No pressure from me, and we’ll talk afterward.” She tried to prop up the roof of their relationship with her bare hands.

  “I don’t like the sound of that. What are we going to talk about after the game, Estie? Why can’t we talk about it now? I want you in my life.”

  “Brett, this is not the time.” She’d been so stupid to bring it up in the first place. Damn that Harris directness.

  “When will it ever be the time? Tell me the truth. I can handle it. Don’t patronize me.”

  “Our lives are on conflicting paths. You’ll be going to a new team, and I’ll be going to vet school.” His expression broke her heart, but she stuck with the path she’d forged. She’d already opened that Pandora’s Box and nothing would put the monster back inside. She needed to do this for him. Not for herself. Because that’s what a person did when they cared about someone more than they cared about themselves.

  “But you can come with me. I’m going to a team within commuting distance of a vet school.” She almost caved at the sight of his pleading expression, but she bolstered her inner strength, called upon that Harris stubborn streak, and stood tall.

  Just like Tyler had warned, Brett would sacrifice signing with a good team just to keep her near, but she couldn’t ask that of him. He could not give up his dream, and she couldn’t give up her plans. They’d grow to resent each other.

  It was a no-win situation for her, but not for Brett. He’d move on. He’d get his ring and his new team. Eventually, he’d find a woman. He deserved the best, and the best wasn’t her.

  Estie shook her head and swallowed back the tears. “I love you, Brett. I’ll always love you, but you and I are on separate paths. If I mess with your journey, you’ll never forgive me. If you mess with mine, the same thing will happen. We were destined to come together, and we were destined to break apart. Right people, wrong place, wrong time.”

  “You love me?” Brett didn’t seem to hear any of her other words but those three. She’d give him points for single-minded optimism.

  “I love you.” Her resolve wavered a little, and she gave it a stiff kick in the ass.

  Brett scowled, the type of scowl her brother would be damn proud of. Instead of begging and swallowing his pride, his face grew hard, almost angry. “We can make this work if we both try hard enough. Estie, you are the woman of my dreams. The one I’d never thought I’d find. The missing piece of my life’s puzzle. We can work it out because perfect is boring, and we can muddle through the rest.”

  Estie believed this man, believed he could do anything he put his mind to. Look what he’d done with his football career. He’d risen from a man who was never supposed to be a starter to one of the NFL’s projected top free agents. But if she gave in, where did that really leave her?

  With shitload of regrets for both of them.

  She steeled herself, dug in her heels, and held firm, and then she dropped the final bomb on their relationship, the one he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You have secrets. Places you’ve been, things you’ve seen that you’ve never shared with me. I had a man once with secrets I didn’t even know he had. I can’t do this. I can’t live with the uncertainty.”

  Brett met her gaze with a closed-off expression. He nodded, crossed the room, picked up Bongo’s cage—even the bird was quiet for now— tucked Blackjack under his arm, and headed for the stairs. He whistled to Risky and Humphrey who hurried after him.

  A second later he disappeared down the stairs with his kids and out of her life.

  Forever.

  Estie crumpled to the floor and gave into sobs that racked her body worse than the ones the night she’d been told her father had died.

  * * * * *

  The week passed quickly, giving Brett very little time to obsess over his lost love. He dropped into bed so exhausted each night that he didn’t have much time to think about the woman lying in the room directly above him and all the things they’d done in that room.

  In some unspoken agreement between animal lovers, Estie still cared for his animals while he was at the facility. He’d text her before he headed home each night, and they’d be firmly ensconced in his little apartment by the time he got home.

  If Brett dwelled on it, the loneliness would overwhelm him. He couldn’t let it wipe out the confidence he’d gained in the past several weeks. Hell, he’d lost before, experienced the depths of despair, seen carnage and tragedy, and risen above it. He’d rise above this despite how hard it hit him.

  The team counted on him, and right now, nothing mattered as much as the team. A few weeks from now would be a different story.

  Harris didn’t say a word if he was even aware of Brett’s now-single status, but then Brett didn’t expect him to mention it. Harris might be an asshole most of the time, but he didn’t find the guy to be cruel or mean unless it was a member of an opposing team who got under his skin.

  That week spent in the apartment below Estie couldn’t end soon enough. The Monday before the Super Bowl, the team boarded their charter flight for San Diego and a week of what promised to be extreme chaos and frenzy. In some weird way, he welcomed it, even as he steeled himself against the panic and claustrophobia. He was about to be put to the ultimate test of his recovery.

  And he wasn’t wrong; the first day of Super Bowl week was chaos to the extreme. Everyone wanted a piece of him until he didn’t think there were any pieces left unclaimed. And somehow in the midst of all the media hype and ridiculous hoopla, he and his teammates were supposed to prepare for a football game. Yeah, right.

  The only consolation was that New England was going through the same bullshit. Only their quarterback had been there before. Multiple times.

  Have faith, Brett. Have faith.

  Estie had had faith in him.

  Oh, crap, fine time to be thinking about her.

  Brett crammed his clothes in his locker, grabbed his helmet and jogged to the practice field. Thoughts of Estie were not allowed. Not now. Later, but not now. Later when he was in the darkness of his h
otel room with Bruiser snoring in the bed across the room, he’d allow himself to think about her.

  He strode onto the practice field and felt the determination etched on every line of his face. He’d earned those lines and he’d earned this moment. He didn’t dwell on the naysayers, all those people who claimed he couldn’t do it, especially his father. He wouldn’t win this ring for them, he’d win it in spite of them, and he’d do it for himself and his future because at the end of the day, Brett Gunnels was a winner.

  Brett stared at the group of guys, every one of them depending on him, and despite how destroyed his personal life might be, he’d dedicate the week to being everything they needed him to be.

  After the Super Bowl he could grieve the loss of his relationship and figure out how to move on.

  Alone.

  Brett went through the game plan, just as the coaches had outlined it. His passes hit their targets with bullet-like accuracy. His handoffs were so smooth, he fooled his own defense several times into following the fake instead of the real ball handler, and their first practice in San Diego wrapped up before he knew it.

  As they headed into the locker room, Zach caught up with him. “You’re peaking at the right time, Gun. Lookin’ good. You fooled me on that last play, caught me sightseeing like a rank tourist.”

  “You’re doing pretty good for an old man.” Brett grinned, feeling almost giddy for the first time since Estie broke it off with him. His goal hovered within reach. He could feel it, taste it, smell it, and he liked the smell of victory. They had to get through this week first and then past New England’s formidable defense.

  “There aren’t too many years separating us,” Zach pointed out.

  “Yeah, it’s not the years, it’s the miles.”

  “You’re that Cadillac the little old lady keeps in her garage and takes it for a spin once a week to go grocery shopping.”

  “Yup, that’s me. A pampered Cadillac.” Brett chuckled and so did Zach. Damn, it felt good to laugh and let off a little tension. Brett couldn’t picture himself as a pampered anything, let alone a luxury car.

  Showering and dressing, Brett followed his teammates out of the locker room into the warm California sun. Several reporters milled around like sharks in a pond. One particularly attractive woman separated herself from the group and approached him. Brett recognized her immediately as a sideline reporter for a major sports network. She looked even more gorgeous in person than she did on TV, but she didn’t hold a candle to Estie’s classic beauty.

  She smiled at him, and politely he smiled back.

  “Ah, the elusive Brett Gunnels.” Tammy Parks slid up close to him and clutched his elbow, as if she feared he might bolt any second.

  He’d sure as hell like to do just that. “I doubt I’m elusive.” He met her gaze with a direct one of his own. She stood an inch or so taller than him in her high-heeled boots. He’d avoided her since they arrived in San Diego because Harris told him the woman made it her personal mission to notch her bedpost with as many pro athletes’ names as possible. Apparently Tyler’s name was there from back in his single days. Harris mentioned she wasn’t worth the drama that came with a night in her bed. In fact, when they walked out of the locker room, the injured quarterback gave her a wide berth.

  Her cameraman shoved a camera in his face, while Tammy shoved a microphone down his throat. HughJack hovered nearby and caught Brett’s eye with one of those play-nice glowers that HughJack perfected after years of working with an unpredictable Tyler Harris.

  “Brett, you’ll be a free agent in less than a week.”

  Brett nodded and offered no comment. Tammy’s reputation on and off the field proceeded her. She twisted any responses to fit the story she chose to tell, next thing you know, it’d be all over Twitter, the blogs, and SportsCenter.

  “Have you been exploring your options?”

  “The only thing I’ve been exploring is Sunday’s game plan.”

  “Surely, you must be thinking of your future, too. That’s human nature. Give me a little something. What team are you leaning toward?”

  “I can’t discuss that at this time, and you know it. I’m not a free agent, and I can’t be officially contacted by teams until I am.”

  “Hypothetically speaking then, if Miami were interested would you make them your top choice?”

  Brett glanced at HughJack who made a slicing motion across his throat. “I can’t answer that. Ask me about the game if you want to ask me something.”

  Tammy’s blue eyes flashed with anger. Brett guessed she didn’t like being crossed or denied. Then her expression changed and a slow smile spread across her face. She nodded and asked him a few of the usual questions. Brett gave the usual answers then she turned to her camera guy. “Let’s get to Murphy next.”

  Her partner headed in Murphy’s direction. Tammy hesitated long enough to slide a business card a little too deep in Brett’s pocket. “If you change your mind and want to talk or engage in a little after-hours workout, my personal number is on the card.”

  Brett only nodded. Tammy strutted off, ready to attack Murphy, who already looked like a cornered animal.

  Brett had to smile as he managed to skirt the other reporters and board the team bus back to the hotel. He’d never call that woman, not now, not for a long time.

  Not as long as his heart belonged to Estie.

  Chapter 17

  First and Goal

  Estie sat in a small café in Kirkland having lunch with her mother and sister. She’d been avoiding them for days. Finally Freddie had shown up on her doorstep, fully dressed for combat with her take-no-prisoners-especially-when-it-comes-to-sisters scowl. Estie, who truly did value her life, accepted the lunch invitation, though not exactly gracefully.

  “You aren’t going to the game?” Freddie’s voice dripped with disapproval as if she’d been forced to drink coffee whose grounds came from a can. She narrowed her eyes and assessed her sister with barely disguised annoyance—her normal expression when it came to Estie.

  Their mother, Trisha Harris, sipped her tea and watched her two daughters with undisguised interest. Their bickering never got a rise out of her, but she often stepped in to prevent bloodshed and carnage, especially when innocent bystanders might become involved.

  “No, I don’t see any reason to go. Ty’s not playing.”

  Freddie raised one eyebrow and that one eyebrow registered more disapproval than most people registered with their entire bodies. “We have tickets. Ty’s paid for everything. You can’t treat his money so cavalierly.”

  Estie gritted her teeth and ignored her sister’s criticisms. She’d dealt with them all her life. Freddie didn’t suffer fools easily, and she considered Estie a fool. Sure, she loved her, and Estie loved her back, but there’d never been room for someone like Estie in Freddie’s black and white world. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if I go.”

  “Why not?” Freddie pushed.

  “Haven’t you heard?” Estie couldn’t stand it any longer. This wasn’t her family’s way. They usually attacked at the first sign of noncompliance and weakness.

  Freddie frowned and glanced at their mother.

  “Heard what?” Trish Harris’s brow furrowed in complete confusion.

  “About Brett and me.”

  “Oh, that,” Freddie dismissed it as if the news were as common as a rainy day in Seattle. Perhaps it was.

  “That nice backup quarterback? Ty said something about you two getting together.” Her mother’s expression smoothed out.

  “But now Brett and I are through.” Estie choked on the last word as a sob broke free. She turned away, hating them seeing her like this.

  Freddie rolled her eyes. “You have to be kidding me.” No sympathy from that corner.

  “Oh, honey, what happened?” Trish put a comforting hand on Estie’s arm, and Estie resisted the urge to throw herself into her mother’s arms and cry like a two-year-old.

  Instead, she squared her shoulders
and fought off the tears, like a true hardass Harris. “We couldn’t work out the logistics. Right guy, wrong time and place. I want to go vet school. He’s going to another team. A good team.”

  “All I’ve ever asked of you is that you follow your heart. If you want to go to vet school, that’s an excellent choice. I’ve always believed you’d make a great veterinarian, but you were hell-bent on going into finance.”

  “Yeah, the work you do with animals is great.” For once Freddie said something positive, but Estie had no doubt she’d find a way to flip it before the conversation ended.

  “I thought finance was what I wanted.” What she’d thought was it was safe. And look how that turned out.

  “Honey, you need to listen to your heart. Now what happened with Brett?”

  “You didn’t try to control him until he couldn’t take it anymore, did you?” Freddie added. Another chastising look from their mom to Freddie, not that it ever penetrated Freddie’s thick skin any more than it did Tyler’s.

  “It’s just not going to work.”

  Her mother smiled. “I can ease some of the pressure a little. At least financially, and I know how you fret about finances. There’s money from your dad set aside for you after you marry or turn thirty. I was waiting for your wedding to give it to you. It’s not a lot, but it should give you a nice little financial boost along with what you have saved.”

  Tears welled in Estie’s eyes and her throat closed up as memories of her father came flooding back. An infinitely patient man with iron determination and unconditional love. The best father a girl could ever have. A great example as a man and as a father and even more as a husband. Probably the reason none of the kids had married yet. They didn’t think they could ever measure up to the incredible relationship their mother had with their father.

  And it scared the crap out of Estie that she might not do them justice.

  Not that they would’ve ever expected anything of her but to do her best and win graciously or fail with class.

  “Your father would be proud of you for making the tough decisions.” Trish smiled at her, an approving smile which warmed Estie’s heart. Her mother understood, and all she’d ever really wanted was to make the people around her happy.