No Promises Required

by Cari Quinn

  “No. Jill, wait. Park your car. I’ll take you.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can handle this.”

  The orange kitten let out a bellow and he cursed. What was he supposed to do? Abandon the cat? He couldn’t. It was shaking from cold or fear, maybe both. “Jill, do as I said, and let’s go.”

  “Fine.” She slammed her door shut and zipped her car into a parking space before hurrying over to his vehicle.

  She climbed inside the passenger side as he slid into the driver’s seat, her hand under her shirt. He gaped for a full thirty seconds at the movements going on under her top. “You stuck the cat under your shirt?”

  “It’s freezing.” She closed her door and sat back in her seat. “You should do the same. And turn up the heat.” Before he could, she started fiddling with the dials and buttons. Rap music blared out of the speakers, and a wave of heat hit him full in the face. “There.” Inexplicably, she sounded pleased. “That’s better.”

  “Says who?” He shut his own door and gazed at the screamer in his lap. This was how they were spending their first pseudo-date?

  At a loss, he undid the first couple buttons of his shirt and shoved the kitten inside, looking up at Jill’s laughter. “Shut up,” he muttered, hating that he wanted to grin at the amusement transforming her face. God, she was so pretty.

  “Shutting. Do you know where the Haven View shelter is?”

  The cat squirmed, dragging spaghetti claws over his chest as he put the vehicle in gear. “Yeah.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do. I was born in this town, you know. I’m not some stranger.”

  “Sorry. I appreciate you driving me—us.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Oh, and there’s no way this counts as a date, by the way. No sex, no date. We’re going to make sure you get the practice you deserve.” At her glare, he laughed and said, “The first night we were together counts as the first of the five.”

  “Oh, thank God. I’d hate it for it to be five nights in addition to that one.” Before he could decide if she was screwing with him, she laid a hand on his wrist. “Want me to take the orange one?”

  “Why? Because it’s trying to eviscerate me? Nah.” Cupping the jumpy bundle in one palm against his belly, he gave her a grim smile and swung out of the lot. “I live for pain.”

  In no time, they were at the shelter. Jill hurried up to the front counter and spoke to the young lady manning it. “Is Pete on duty tonight?”

  “No. Sorry. He has the night off. But Joan’s here.”

  Before Bryan could wonder who Pete was and why the young assistant went all gooey-eyed at his name, an older woman in sensible lace-up shoes shot into action. “Come with me,” she said, dragging them into an examining room in the back.

  The orange kitten was unceremoniously dug out of his shirt—and said kitten was in no hurry to let go, judging from the skin it flayed off Bryan’s abdomen—and set on a steel table along with its brethren. The two of them toddled around, meowing pitifully while Jill and her co-worker poked and prodded them, taking measurements and temperatures and talking in short, staccato bursts.

  “Good vitals,” the co-worker pronounced after a few minutes, scuttling off and returning with eyedroppers of milk. “Up you go,” she said, nudging the black kitten and the first eyedropper in Jill’s direction.

  When she tried to push the other one at Bryan, he backed up, hands in the air. “Sorry. I’m allergic.”

  “You are not,” Jill accused. “You haven’t sneezed once.”

  “It’s more of a…mental allergy.” The co-worker made a disgusted noise, and he flashed her his best smile, the one that typically got him in a woman’s panties in less time than it took him to break huddle. “I’m sure the kitten would be much better in your capable care.”

  “Nice try, buckaroo.” The older lady shoved the cat in his hands. “You want the kitten to starve?” She looked at Jill. “What kind of heathen is he?”

  Jill shrugged and cooed at the black kitten, who didn’t seem to want to take its milk. “He’s my best friend’s brother. You know.”

  “Oh, one of those.” With another derisive glance, the co-worker bustled out of the room.

  He shouldn’t be affronted. There were bigger issues, like the fact that the screeching orange kitten had its jaws open so wide that he half expected green bile to shoot out of its mouth. “Best friend’s brother? That’s the only thing you can call me?”

  Jill gave him a cool look. Polar ice caps were warmer than her blue eyes. “That’s what you are.”

  “I was in your bed the other night, in case you’ve forgotten.” Christ, he couldn’t believe what he was saying. He sounded like some chick. Some chick who kept trying to convince a screaming kitten to latch on to the damn eyedropper and be quiet for a blessed moment.

  Ignoring him, Jill cuddled her now happily snacking kitten in her arms, making soothing sounds that only pissed him off more. “That’s a good girl. You’re a darling, aren’t you?” She smiled at his fussy kitten in a much friendlier manner than she’d bestowed on Bryan thus far. “Both of you. Such beautiful girls.”

  “It’s a girl?” If he had to be cradling a cat like a chump, he’d expected at least to be given a boy.

  “Sure is, champ.” She giggled when the kitten hissed at his latest attempt to aim the dropper at its mouth. “Aww, you having problems with your lady? Seems to be a recurring problem for you.”

  Ignoring her mirth at his expense, he gentled his hold on his kitten and tried to plaster it against his chest like Jill had. Then he brought the eyedropper back to its mouth and tapped, expecting another hiss for his trouble. Instead the kitten opened up and lapped at the milk he squeezed out.

  “Good job. I’m impressed. You’re not totally useless.”

  When he would’ve shot back a retort, she grinned and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. He stilled, stunned by the simple gesture. Casual affection wasn’t something he had much experience with. After his mom had left home, there had been none other than when he spent time with Vic and Melly. Only one other woman that he wasn’t related to had treated him that way outside of bed.

  Jill’s mom.

  He shifted toward Jill, wishing she’d turn her lips up to his. He wanted more where that playful kiss had come from. But she was stroking her kitten, her smile tender. She spared a glance for him and his orange ball of fur, her smile deepening until dimples dug into the corners of her mouth. How had he missed those before?

  “You guys are doing great.”

  Her approval washed over him, every bit as pleasant as her offhanded gesture. “Since tonight didn’t work out as intended, let’s try going out again Wednesday night.” As soon as the words were out, he shook his head. Not Wednesday. He’d be too busy reliving seeing his mom for the first time since he was a teenager and wouldn’t be able to focus on Jill. “No, let’s make it Thursday night.”

  “Again?” Her lips curved, slyly now. “Technically, we haven’t gone out the first time.”

  “So we will. Whatever you want to do.” He didn’t even mention the mandatory distance from home so no one would spot them and start gossiping. This wasn’t about fulfilling some honor contract. He wanted to spend some time with her, see if he could get those pretty dimples to appear again. She deserved a guy who could make her happy, even if only temporarily. “I’m game for anything.”

  Part of him expected her to say no, to make up an excuse. Instead, she gave him another one of those smiles that turned him inside out. “I have class Thursday, but after that, you’re on, Townsend.”

  Chapter Six

  Getting closer to family, Bryan had discovered, was a multi-pronged process. The first step appeared to be opening up your private life and planting a welcome sign. At least when it came to his sisters. He could keep up a front with almost anyone, but when it came to Melly and Vic, they could see right through him.

  “So how are you healing?” Vic asked.

&nb
sp; Bryan leaned back in his chair. They’d picked the Waterfront Eatery for a late lunch on Tuesday, though the cold forbidding view of the lake outside the wide windows hardly encouraged one to venture out into the elements. The gloomy day matched his mood perfectly.

  He’d been tempted to ask Vic how Jill was, but he wasn’t supposed to know what was going on with Vic’s assistant. He definitely wasn’t supposed to be sleeping with her or plotting how to make it happen again. Jill had left the two screamers at the rescue facility, and since they’d swapped numbers, he’d been expecting a status report via text or phone call. Nada.

  “I’m doing okay.”

  “Will you be ready for the free-agency period?” Melly tossed back her red hair and signaled a waiter. Like magic, the man appeared to take her drink order—and probably her phone number, had she been willing to give it. But Mel was always all business. “It’s only a month away,” she added.

  As if he could forget. “I remember.”

  Before she could continue pelting him with questions, a giggling pair of teenagers approached the table, phones extended at his face. It took a few minutes, but his admirers finally left.

  As much as he’d grown tired of having camera phones in his face at all times during the season, sometimes being home wasn’t easy to deal with either. He loved that so many people seemed to want to talk football, and the volume of gawkers was definitely less, but he never managed to get away from his career. Even in Haven, he never knew if someone’s picture-taking would lead to a spread in a gossip rag and more trouble for his reputation. Jill didn’t realize the favor he was doing her by keeping their situation low-key. She really didn’t want to get hooked up in his mess.

  A mess he wasn’t even sure would matter anymore, if his contract didn’t get picked up.

  What if Melly’s questions turned out not to be idle chitchat and he wasn’t ready to rejoin his team—if the Mariners even wanted him back? His agent had assured him talks were going well, but nothing was guaranteed.

  What would he be if he couldn’t hack it on the team any longer? He had no idea who he’d be if he couldn’t be a football player. Football was all he’d ever known. So what were his other options? Stay here? Try to make a life? He wouldn’t know where to start.

  And days like today, with his sisters happy to finally see him, he hated that it felt like he’d have to make a choice between personal life and football. He’d hated his dad for putting his personal issues before his family all these years, yet here he was doing the same thing, albeit with his career.

  Just as Melly began regaling them with tales from the competitive world of frozen yogurt, he felt his phone buzz. A glance at the caller ID showed it was Cade Maxwell, one of his Mariners teammates. Cade had called a couple of times, and he hadn’t yet had a chance to respond. Something must be up if Cade kept calling.

  “One second,” he said to his sisters, then turned at an angle to leave them to their yogurt debate.

  After a few moments of small talk, Cade’s rich laughter flowed over the line. “So how many hometown girls have you bagged since you’ve been back?”

  “None.” He hadn’t bagged Jill. He’d never describe her like that, even if she hadn’t been Vic’s best friend and he hadn’t been close to Jill’s mother. “I’m living a clean life now.”

  “Oh sure. No drinking, no women. You’re practically a saint.”

  “Dude, my body’s a temple.” Bryan couldn’t fight his grin as the waiter delivered their meals. The second his steak was placed in front of him, he dug in. “So what’s up?”

  “You been watching the news?” Cade asked.

  “No. I’ve been spending time with—” He broke off. Christ, he’d nearly said he was seeing someone in front of Vic, who would hound him relentlessly for the woman’s name. “I’m too busy with PT to catch the news. What’s going on?”

  “Everyone’s all abuzz about some big new deal being brokered. We’re talking big bucks. You’re the only outstanding free agent the Mariners haven’t re-signed yet, so it has to be you, man. Congratulations.”

  Bryan carefully set down his fork. “Some deal’s being brokered and it’s gotta be mine? Doesn’t that seem a tad optimistic?”

  “Nah, the analysts have it pretty well pinned down. You know how they are. Once it’s on ESPN, it’s damn well close to fact.” Cade laughed. “You haven’t heard this from Hank yet? I’m surprised.”

  Hank hadn’t called, but if this were true, he would soon enough. He was probably was making sure it was a done deal before he raised Bryan’s hopes.

  This was exactly what he had been working toward for months. A bigger payout from the team he loved and had spent years with. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Bryan gripped his phone tighter. “I guess you’re right. Seems logical it might be mine. I’m sure Hank’s just trying to cram as many zeroes as possible onto the dotted line before he calls me,” he added with a laugh that echoed in his gut.

  He wanted this. This was good news. Forget that. Incredible news.

  “Exactly. I’m happy for you, man.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the heads-up. I’ll talk to you soon.” Bryan hung up and stared at his steak. His appetite had disappeared.

  For a moment, he’d felt forced to think about other possibilities. A different life here. A chance to be a different person. But now that this new deal appeared to be panning out for him, his future seemed secure. He could hold on to the dream of being a football star for a little longer.

  “Who was that?” Vic closed her small hand over his. “You’re not eating the second the food hit the table, so it must be bad.”

  “Nah. It’s delicious.” Bryan dug into his meal. The faster he ate, the quicker he could get away from their probing questions and concerned smiles. “See, worrywarts? I’m eating.”

  “I bet you’re stirring up quite an appetite with all that PT.”

  Resisting a smile, he forked up more steak. Physical therapy wasn’t all that was stirring up his appetite lately, not by a long shot.

  “You know it,” he replied.

  Vic went back to attacking her fried chicken. “I hope you’re taking it easy. You always push it too hard, and you’re only a couple of months out.”

  “Vic, I can handle my PT.” He didn’t mean to snap at her, but from the flash in her brown eyes, she didn’t intend to roll over and take it.

  “So who was on the phone?” Melly dabbed her mouth. “Not Cade from your team?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why did he call?” She sounded suspicious, but Melly often was, so that didn’t mean much.

  He set down his water and stabbed at his salad. “Just team business.”

  “So you think you’re going to re-sign? I’ve heard talk that—”

  “Enough, Vic.” All of this talk business was getting to him. “I don’t want to discuss my rehab or football or any of that shit. Okay?”

  Vic shoved corn around her plate. “What about Mom? You ever intend to discuss her, or is she off the table, too?”

  “Vic,” Melly chided softly. “We agreed.”

  “What did you agree? Not to talk about her in front of me?” He dug into his potatoes until the fork scraped the bowl. “You can talk about her any time. I know you’re both cozying up with her again, and that’s your choice. I would never criticize you for your decisions.”

  Hypocrite. Who’s going to be cozying up with her tomorrow?

  But that was different. He was doing that for his sisters, not himself. He didn’t need a mother in his life anymore. That ship had sailed years ago.

  “Like we’ve done with yours not to be part of her life?” Vic stared at the chicken she’d been devouring so eagerly. “Sorry, Bry. Wedding stress is getting to me. I swore I wouldn’t turn into one of those women, but I guess I lied.”

  “Don’t worry ’bout it, squirt.” He rubbed her head like when she was a kid, and she shoved at his arm, making him laugh. This was good. Really good. Grea
t news from the team. Quality time with his sisters for the little while he was in town. “Melly and I can deal with you getting moody. I might even still give you away to that stiff-necked CEO of yours next week. If you don’t piss me off too much.”

  “That’s not all that’s stiff when it comes to Cory,” Vic tossed back, causing Bryan to groan and Melly to choke on her iced tea.

  “Really, Vic? Want me to get indigestion?”

  His phone went off again, and he gratefully glanced at the screen.

  Jill.

  I’m home early and I’m lonely. Want to keep me company?

  Hell yes, he did. He wanted to enough that he feared getting up from the table, thanks to the suddenly baseball-bat-sized hard-on he was sporting. This day was looking better and better.

  Even thoughts of visiting his mom tomorrow couldn’t bring him down. He’d vowed to check on her at the group home alone so Vic didn’t have anything to think about except her wedding, and he intended to keep that promise.

  And now Jill was offering him the perfect distraction from his impending visit. One with soft pink lips, a curvy body, and the unerring ability to make him laugh. But he’d suggested going out the next time they spent time together. He couldn’t just show up and bang her, right? That wasn’t polite. She was worth so much more.

  This was why he didn’t do relationships. Fuck buddies didn’t require all this thought. If only things with Jill were that simple. She was way too important for him to treat carelessly.

  He was still staring at his cell, debating how best to respond, when Vic cleared her throat. “Who is that? Bryan Townsend, did you just get a booty call?”

  “Of course not,” he answered a bit too swiftly.

  Vic smirked. “Uh-huh. That grin on your face says otherwise.”

  Dear God. He hid the text before Vic could snatch his phone. “Sorry to cut this short, ladies, minor emergency.” Try major, if his dick had any say in the matter. He gestured to the waiter. “Check, please.”