“Thanks for rescuing me from death by straw bales.”
Tyler paused from his spot in the bed of her truck, hay hooks grasped in his gloved hands. He looked down at her. “I can’t resist a damsel in distress.”
“I can’t resist a Prince Uncharming.”
“Hey, I’m the King of Asses.” Tyler graced her with his trademark lady-killer grin, as if that’d work on her. Nope. No way. This girl was immune.
Then again—
Her weak-willed body didn’t get the message from her brain and melted at his feet. One week was a long time to go without her neighbor’s talents. The man played on a mattress as well as he played on a football field.
The muscles in his strong thighs bulged from the weight as Tyler heaved the last bale of straw to the top of the stack as if it weighed no more than a pillow. He flexed his throwing arm then rubbed it, as if he felt a twinge.
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged one shoulder, playing Mr. Tough Guy. “I’m fine. Just side effects from playing a violent game for a living.”
He waited, as if he expected a smart comeback. She didn’t have one. Not today. The NFL paid him well for the physical abuse he suffered every Sunday. Those were the trade-offs.
Tyler pulled off his gloves and wiped his hands on his thighs.
“You don’t have animals. What’s the straw for?”
“For mulch? To lock in the moisture? Heck if I know. Mom insists we have it for the garden.”
“I’m all for moisture. Makes things stand up better.” His eyes flicked to her drooping garden plants and back. “Moisture looks good on you, too.” He traced the sweat trickling down her neck with his calloused finger, not stopping when it disappeared under her T-shirt but following the line down to where her sweaty shirt stuck to her cleavage. Their gazes locked, and she knew they’d be horizontal in no time. His blue eyes smoldered, singeing her with the promise reflected in them. Dang, how she’d missed his body. He moved close to her, pinning her against the truck. Grabbing her waist, he hoisted her butt onto the tailgate and pushed her knees apart, stepping between them.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Lavender ran a hand across his cheek.
His eyes darkened, and he pressed closer. “Yeah, well, my college coach being your dad is weird. I’m having a hard time dealing with it.”
“I haven’t seen him in years. He’s a father in name only so don’t worry about it.”
“Okay.” He looked anything but okay.
“Can you deal?” She arched her back and pushed out her breasts, using her body to distract him and get beyond this too personal thing growing between them. Lavender had always enjoyed sex, but she’d become a slave to her desires, thanks to this gorgeous, self-proclaimed asshole. She would not let her obsession with getting this man naked temper her emotional dislike of him.
“I’m working on it.” Tyler pushed her down on the bed of the truck. His hard cock rubbed against her crotch. He shoved her sweatshirt and her bra up to expose her breasts. She moaned as his warm breath teased one pebbled nipple, followed by an even warmer mouth. His tongue drew lazy circles around her nipple as his mouth sucked—now that took talent. When it came to sexual expertise, the jock stood in a league of his own.
He drew back and admired her generous breasts. “I’m going to buy you some new jewelry for these babies. Something to remind you of me. Maybe some little footballs.” She writhed against him as he toyed with her nipples.
“Anything but footballs. Oh, my. Oh. Ty.” Lavender arched her back, loving his touch. He bent down, and his mouth covered hers. She threaded her fingers through his thick, dark hair. He tempted her with his lips, tantalized with his tongue, and she yielded to the web he wove. Under his spell, Lavender lost herself in the feel of his marauding mouth and did a little marauding of her own.
Cougar leaped onto the truck bed and crawled onto her shoulder. Tyler pulled back when the cat stuck his face between theirs.
“Get lost, Coug.” Ty pushed him away. “Get your own pussy.”
Coug ignored them and swatted at a lock of Lavender’s hair.
She heard the slam of a car door followed by a second slam. Oh, crap. Lavender wrenched out of Tyler’s grasp, kneeing him in the groin in the process. He yelped and doubled over. Ignoring him, she yanked down her shirt and bra as she leaped off the tailgate.
“What the fu—fudge?” Tyler ground out through his teeth. Geez, the bet was over, and he was still trying to clean up his mouth. He’d never cared before about his swearing. This wasn’t good.
“Mom and Larry just drove up.” Lavender smoothed her hair and straightened her clothes. In another few minutes, he’d have been inside her. They would’ve been humping like rabbits, and her parents would’ve witnessed it all. The grief her mother piled on would’ve reached epic proportions.
“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Tyler groaned from his bent-over position.
“You have to go.” She fought to control the panic in her voice, even though embarrassment colored her face a bright red. She couldn’t let her mother see her with him. One look, and she’d know instantly.
“Hell, I can’t even stand up straight, let alone walk.”
“Don’t be a wuss. Get out of here.”
Tyler looked up, still hunched over. “No.” His blue eyes drilled into hers. She cringed at the determination reflected in them.
“Ty, please.” She glanced over her shoulder. “They’ll be here any second.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.” She knew where he was going with this.
“So who cares what your mother thinks?”
“You don’t get it,” she hissed. “You’ve never cared what anyone thought, even your mother.”
“You have no effing idea what you’re talking about.”
“Please, Tyler.”
“No.” Tyler stood up straighter. His face still a little pale from the pain. He put his hands on his hips. His jaw jutted out in a display of cussed stubbornness. She knew enough about him to realize he wasn’t budging. “You don’t want to be seen with me.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think she’d hurt his feelings. “Please, she won’t be happy about this.”
“So? You’re over twenty-one. You’re an adult. This is your life, she doesn’t get a vote.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re damn right I don’t understand. Every time she shows up—and that’s a lot—you kick me out or tell me to stay home.”
“Tyler, please.”
“I want to meet her.”
It was too late for more pleading, so Lavender pasted a fake smile on her face and accepted her fate.
* * * * *
Tyler hadn’t a clue why he’d insisted on staying. Maybe just to be contrary. Maybe curiosity about his college coach’s ex-wife, or maybe for reasons he damned well shouldn’t explore, such as sensing their relationship was about to turn a corner and he needed to remind Lavender what an ass he could be. Just by the irritation on her face, his message had been received loud and clear.
Tyler was instantly uncomfortable around Lavender’s parents. By their nervous glances, the feeling was mutual.
Larry Mead let his wife do the talking but stood back with an unreadable expression. The guy barely reached Tyler’s chin and seemed like one of those people who preferred to blend into the background. Obviously, he also ate a little too well.
“Mom, Larry, this is Tyler. Ty, this is my mom, Brenda Mead, and my stepfather, Larry Mead.”
“So nice to meet you, Tyler.” Her mother managed a stiff smile, while Larry gave him a limp handshake.
He plastered a fake smile on his face. He could play this game. “Mrs. Mead, it’s a pleasure.” He nodded to her husband. “Mr. Mead.”
Larry rewarded Tyler’s rare politeness with a nod and continued to poke and prod the stacked hay. Lavender wrung her hands together, her eyes full of worry.
“L
arry’s a retired accountant.”
He could’ve guessed as much. He rarely met a man who didn’t want to talk sports with him, but Larry expressed no interest.
“What did you get your degree in?” Larry asked conversationally. Tyler could detect no ulterior motive.
“I went pro before I got my degree.” Hell, with his grades, he’d still be trying to finish his first year if he hadn’t joined the NFL.
“You play for that Steelheads,” Brenda said, struggling to maintain a friendly façade.
“Yes, ma’am.” Damn, but this was awkward.
“I see you’re helping Lavender.”
Tyler nodded. He didn’t think they approved of him, but they were both making an attempt to be civil.
“That’s really not necessary. You must be a busy man. Larry could have helped Lavender.”
Tyler doubted the guy had the strength to wrestle with a field mouse, let alone those bales. “Mrs. Mead, not to worry. I don’t mind.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
He sought to come up with some form of conversation to end this uncomfortable conversation. “It’s a small world, isn’t it? My college coach is Lavender’s father.” The second he said the words, he knew he’d made a serious mistake. Lavender had asked him to never mention the man’s name again. Why had he done this?
Brenda turned as pale as a kicker about to be slammed to the turf by a three-hundred-pound lineman. Larry stared at his feet. Lavender’s eyes grew big and her gaze flicked from her mother to Tyler and back again. He’d said the wrong thing. He could see that now.
“Thanks for the help with the straw, Tyler. I can take it from here.” Lavender fidgeted and met his gaze, pleading with him to leave.
“Nice meeting both of you,” Tyler said.
“You, too,” Brenda responded, while Larry nodded and didn’t meet his gaze.
Tyler strolled away, purposely keeping his gait slow and easy, as if he hadn’t said the stupidest, most insensitive thing ever. What he really wanted to do was beat tracks back to the relative quiet and safety of his mansion. When he passed the gate between the properties, Cougar jumped off the fence post where he’d been waiting and ran ahead to the back door.
A bone-deep feeling of inadequacy rattled his ego. He wasn’t good enough for Lavender, wasn’t good enough for anyone. He was just a guy who wouldn’t have anything going for him if it wasn’t for his arm, his talent for reading defenses, and his ability to make something out of nothing. Not to mention his money.
But money didn’t buy respect or peace of mind.
If it wasn’t for his athletic ability, he’d be homeless and living under the Alaskan Way Viaduct because he’d never have made it out of high school, let alone college. His only marketable skills depended on his muscles and his no-quit attitude.
Except that attitude had deserted him last season, leaving him with a big fat zero in the positive qualities department. Without his killer instincts, his drive, his ambition, he didn’t have much else going for him. A blanket of fear smothered Tyler, made it hard to breathe, like he was on the bottom of a dog pile of three-hundred-pound linemen.
He slumped into a chair and stared mindlessly at the flames from the fireplace. Coug perched on the back of the chair. His tail whipped back and forth in annoyance over God knew what. Tyler felt like shit. Not on the outside, but on the inside. He wasn’t worthy. Lavender’s parents saw right through him. They’d been polite, but they didn’t like him, he could tell.
He didn’t deserve all the good things that’d come his way in this life. Hell, he couldn’t even grant a dying kid’s last wish. That’s how much of a failure he was.
Tyler sighed and wondered if he could sink much lower.
Chapter 14—Broken Tackle
Tyler strode into the VC, pretending he owned the world and everyone in it. His asshole mode served him well, especially when confusion reigned inside his head. At least on the outside, he appeared in control.
He hesitated when he saw Xandra, not Lavender, mixing drinks. He considered leaving, but he walked across the room and sat his butt on his barstool, driven by curiosity. Xandra slid a beer across the counter to him. He stared at the label of his favorite brew and decided not to ask how she’d known what he wanted to drink.
“Where’s El?” He glanced around the bar. The brothers played cards in the far corner. Except for their table, the place was deserted.
“She took today off. She’s volunteering at the senior center and then making the brothers dinner at Homer’s house.”
“Does she do that often?”
“Yes, on her days off, usually, but they needed help today.”
“Oh.” Tyler had no clue that she cooked for the brothers or volunteered with seniors. Not knowing this detail of her life rankled him. Not that he cared one darn bit. He smiled to himself, proud that he’d used darn not fuck, and in his thoughts. Lavender would be impressed, not that it mattered.
“Besides, she’s not speaking to you.”
Crap. “I figured as much.” He scrubbed his face with his hands and took a deep breath, but nothing eased the shame weighing him down.
“Don’t you get it?”
“Not really.” Which was the crux of the matter. He had questions. Zan, as Lavender’s best friend and cousin, should have the answers, at least to the less personal questions—the ones about his coach.
His instincts warned it was best to let sleeping dogs lie and not get any deeper into this. He couldn’t.
But first he needed to settle a score with Zan. “So what’s with this sensitive crap?”
“Being called sensitive disturbs you?” She rubbed a wineglass dry with a towel and gave him one of those all-knowing looks that really got under his skin.
“Hell yeah. You insulted my manhood.”
“Tyler, you are one messed-up guy.”
He couldn’t dispute that fact. His frown tightened the mask of indifference on his face. “I’m not sensitive.”
“You are sensitive. It’s common for alpha males to hide their sensitivity behind an asshole exterior, but you’ve honed it to an art form. I’ve never seen someone so out of touch with their real self.”
He decided to ignore her bullshit and cut to the chase. “You’re Lavender’s cousin?”
“First cousin.” She pressed her lips tight and regarded him with suspicion, reluctant to give too much information. Obviously, she didn’t consider him trustworthy.
“Mother’s side or father’s side?”
“Father’s.”
Ah, pay dirt. Tyler sized up the defense and did an end run. He wanted more information. “So I met Brenda and Larry and happened to mention Brian had been my college coach.”
“Oh, sore sport. He’s not very popular with the family.”
“The family?” Puzzled, Tyler tried to make sense of it all.
“My parents, me, the rest of the family.”
So much for pay dirt. Hell, even the coach’s own family had turned against him.
“Was he abusive?” Tyler braced himself for the truth he might not want to hear. He had to know if his once-revered coach had done something worse than abandoning his family.
“Abusive?” She blinked, as if she couldn’t comprehend his question.
“Yeah, I wondered.” Tyler held his breath and waited for the answer. He’d take the bastard out himself if Coach had laid a hand on his daughter.
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Xandra studied him like he was fu—flipping crazy.
Relief flooded him even as confusion set in. “Then what happened? They’ve been divorced for years.”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s really Lavender’s place to tell you what she wants you to know.”
“So give me a clue.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “He wasn’t there.”
“He wasn’t where?” Tyler didn’t have much patience for evasiveness. There had to be more. Didn’t there?
�
�You know, he wasn’t around. He was never there for Lavender. He didn’t even attend her high school graduation. Never called her on birthdays or Christmas, never even sent a card. He missed every important moment in her life.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does suck.” Xandra sighed. “Are your parents divorced, Tyler?”
Tyler snorted at the ludicrous thought, even as he sought to swallow around the lump forming in his throat. “Heck no, not them. My dad died just before I started college. Suddenly. Heart attack. He’d been as healthy as a horse.” Why he told her this stuff, he’d never know.
“I’m sorry.” Her words rang true, not the shallow words most people spoke that meant nothing.
“Up until the day he died, they were as disgustingly in love as they were when they married years ago. High school sweethearts and all that crap. Totally devoted to each other. My mom says she’ll never find another man like him, and she’s not going to look.”
“I think that’s incredible. You were very lucky to have a family like that.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Try living up to their standards. I don’t even attempt it.”
Xandra stared at him to the point where he started to squirm. He’d given away too much of what went on inside his head. “You’re very proud of them.”
Tyler scrambled to steer the conversation away from his personal life. “How long has it been since Coach has seen Lavender?”
“After the divorce about twelve years ago, Uncle Brian took the assistant coach job across state at WSU. After that, he didn’t make any attempt to see the kids. He never called them, never sent them any cards. He just went away. He didn’t pay a penny of child support. Poor Brenda struggled to raise two teenagers and make ends meet. Lavender acted out. She was a handful. Her brother, Andy, just retreated into himself. Football became his life.”
“Are you sure he never paid child support?” Tyler scratched his head. He didn’t know much about child support, but he couldn’t believe it was that easy to just walk away and not pay anything, especially when the person earned a state salary.
“Brenda told me so. The woman is a good, honest person. Very devout. She’d never lie.”
Snap Decision Page 12
