Wild Card (Texas Titans #5)

by Cheryl Douglas

“We connected,” he said, trying to control his temper. “You can deny it all you want, but I was there. I know how it went down.”

  “You were drunk,” she reminded him. “I’d be surprised if you could remember much of anything.”

  “I remember this.” He stood and closed the distance between them, and he claimed her mouth in a heated kiss reminiscent of the ones they’d shared the night before. He expected her to push him away, but she didn’t. So he took advantage of her assent to prolong the moment. Touching her again, feeling that bond growing stronger with every sweep of his tongue and stroke of his hand over her soft skin, felt so good. “God, I want you again. Let me make up for what happened last night. No alcohol tonight. No regrets. No slurs or—”

  “No!” She pushed his shoulders until he shifted back, giving her room to breathe. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? I don’t want you in my life anymore. I don’t want to have sex with you. I don’t even want to talk to you.”

  “Then why did you kiss me?”

  “I didn’t kiss you,” she said, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. “You kissed me.”

  “You can deny it all you want, but you kissed me back.” His eyes traveled over her body, taking in her heaving breasts and flushed skin. The backless dress meant she wasn’t wearing a bra, which made it difficult to pretend she wasn’t affected by his touch. “You want me just as much as I want you. At least admit it.”

  “You want to pretend you’re still the guy I obsessed over?” Her swollen lips tipped up, but he wasn’t gullible enough to believe she was amused. The only emotion in that smile was bitterness. “The one who used to screen my dates when they came to the house to pick me up? You’re not that guy anymore, and you haven’t been for a long time.”

  That was when the gravity of the situation hit him. The girl had loved him for most of her life, and she didn’t anymore. He’d quashed her innocence, along with her hope and spirit.

  “Do you still love me?” He was terrified of her response, but he had to know. “The truth.”

  “No.” She slid her tongue over her lips, her eyes darting up to meet his. “Until last night, I loved you as a friend, but I haven’t been in love with you for a long time. That’s what I was trying to tell you. I would never try to trap you because honestly… I wouldn’t choose you to be the father of my child.”

  ***

  Carly was being brutally honest, perhaps even cruel, but it was the only way she could convince Brett that she was done. She didn’t need his protection. She didn’t want his friendship. She didn’t want him, at least not the man he’d become.

  “Can I ask why?” he asked, looking hurt.

  It would have been easy to retract the statement, give him an off-hand apology, and make a mad dash for the door, but she was braver and stronger than that. “You once told me you don’t represent forever. You were right.”

  “That was a long time ago. Things change,” he said, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

  “You’re fun and sexy and handsome and all the things that make a great lover, but you’re still temporary.”

  “Temporary?” He looked furious. “Explain your definition of temporary.”

  “You’re not a diapers-at-three-a.m., Little-League-after-work kind of guy.” She smiled to soften the blow. “That’s not a bad thing. You’re just not the kind of person I’d want to share my life with. If I ever get married, and that’s a big if, I want a man who will be there to hold my hand when our kid has a high fever or hug me when I cry at her first play.”

  “Someone like Dylan?”

  In the last few years, Dylan had become everything she’d have looked for in a husband if she were actively looking. He coached youth football, volunteered at the local community center, and spearheaded High Rollers’ fundraising campaigns for under-privileged kids. She knew he loved kids almost as much as she did, but something was missing when she was with him: butterflies.

  “Yes, someone like Dylan.” She was careful to make the distinction, but she knew Brett was too far-gone to hear it. He was genuinely hurt by her assessment and as angry as she’d been with him when she came over. Hurting him had never been her intent though. He looked so shattered she almost questioned whether she’d misjudged him.

  “So he’s the one you want? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I told you I’m not looking for love. If it finds me, fine. If it doesn’t, that’s fine too.”

  He sat back on the couch, looking lost and confused as he laced his hands between his legs and hung his head. “Dyl’s a great guy. He’s really into you. You talked about the kind of husband you want, and he’d be all those things and more. But…”

  Carly could tell he was searching for the right words, and that made her nervous. Hating him was so much easier than loving him, and while hate was too strong a word to describe what she felt for him, she was still striving for indifference.

  “I can’t let him have you,” Brett said.

  “Let him have me?” She gave him the opportunity to take it back when he realized how absurd he sounded, but he clearly didn’t have the sense to understand he’d offended her again. Or he didn’t care. Given his behavior of late, she’d have bet on the latter. “You don’t own me, and you have no right to weigh in on the men I date.”

  “You and I have history. You’ll never feel about Dylan the way you do about me.”

  “I hope not.”

  That got his attention. His face transformed from desperate to hopeful in the blink of an eye.

  “I consider Dylan a friend. He’s a good man,” she said.

  “Ah, and I’m not. That’s what you’re trying to say?”

  “You told him I wanted to have a baby because you were hoping it would turn him off, am I right?” She didn’t have to wait for his response to know she’d nailed it. “You don’t give your friend enough credit. It didn’t dissuade him at all. In fact, he’s anxious to see me again.”

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you so intent on torturing me? Dylan is one of my best friends.” Brett dropped his head in his hands. “If it can’t be me, why does it have to be him? You could be with any other guy on the planet. But not Dylan.”

  “Why?” She smirked. “Do you know how many times I asked myself that question? Why? Why doesn’t he love me? Why does he think she’s prettier than me? Why can’t he feel about me the way I feel about him? Why can’t he see how much I love him?”

  “I see it now,” he whispered, his eyes meeting hers. “Don’t tell me it’s too late.”

  “The man I used to love couldn’t have accused me of the things you did last night. He would have known better. He would have given me the benefit of the doubt because he believed in me. He knew what was in my heart.”

  Brett reached for her hand, but Carly curled it into a fist. Touching her wouldn’t change the way she felt about him. Nothing could.

  “He wouldn’t have broken my trust and divulged my secrets just because he was trying to manipulate the outcome of a situation,” she said. “He would have put my feelings first. He would have thought about what something like that would do to me, and he would have made a different choice.”

  “I screwed up, okay? I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s not okay.” She closed her steady hands around her purse, marvelling at how calm she felt. “It’s not okay for you to treat me like my feelings don’t matter. It’s not okay for you to behave badly and think an apology will fix it. It’s not okay for you to remind me how much I used to love you in an attempt to break me.” She drew a deep breath when anger made her voice tremble. “None of this is okay, and that’s why I can’t have you in my life anymore. I can’t trust you, and if I can’t trust you, I can’t be your friend.”

  “What changed?” he asked, wiping away perspiration from his forehead.

  “You changed.” She thought back to the first signs she’d noticed. Maybe it was missing his father’s sixtieth birthday because he�
��d been partying in Vegas and had a hangover, or maybe it was the year he disappointed his mother after promising he’d be home for Christmas and failing to show. “You stopped caring about the people who made you what you are.”

  “That’s not true.”

  She shook her head. “Your parents and sister may be willing to make excuses for you, but I’m not. You’re blessed with an amazing family, and you take them for granted.”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  She didn’t care if she was pissing him off. As far as she was concerned, he had it coming. “They know you’re busy with work, so they won’t ask why you couldn’t make it to your grandfather’s celebration of life ceremony. You have to travel a lot, so naturally you can’t be expected to fit a visit into your busy schedule.” She rolled her eyes. “You live twenty minutes from them. When was the last time you stopped by for dinner or to watch a game with your father?” When he couldn’t respond or look her in the eye, she said, “They love you, Brett. They just want to be a part of your life. They’re proud of your success, but you wouldn’t be where you are if they hadn’t struggled and sacrificed along the way. They gave you an education, a roof over your head, love, support, and understanding. You can’t put a price tag on that.”

  His features were blank as he stared straight ahead. “It’s not about money. It was never about money. I just wanted to be somebody. I wanted to be successful, to have my own identity.”

  “And now you are, but are you happy?”

  “Not if I don’t have you in my life.”

  A sudden coldness hit her core when she realized everything she’d said had fallen on deaf ears. He still didn’t get it. The reasons he was a terrible son were the same reasons they could never be friends again. He placed more value on things than on people.

  “This isn’t about us,” she said. “This is about you. If you don’t feel broken, there’s nothing to fix.”

  “I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean.”

  “It’s simple.” She didn’t know why she was still there and talking to him as though she didn’t have a mountain of work waiting at home, but she felt she owed it to the Eastons to help their son find his way back to them. “Either you’re content with your life, or you’re not. If you are, then don’t change a thing. If you’re not, figure out what needs to be fixed and fix it.”

  Chapter Four

  Brett saw Carly shut down as soon as the door behind her opened and she heard Sophie’s voice.

  “Oh my God,” Sophie said, dropping her carry-on bag as she rushed toward Carly. “I’m so glad you’re here. When you hung up on me and wouldn’t respond to my texts—”

  “I have to go.” Carly stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Good night.”

  “Please don’t go,” Sophie said, her wide eyes pleading as she gripped her best friend’s wrist. “Can’t we talk about this?”

  Carly sighed. “We can, just not now. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

  “But—”

  Brett reached for his sister’s hand. “Let her go, Soph. She’s had a rough day.”

  “Okay, but you promise we’ll talk about this soon?” Sophie released a breath when Carly nodded. “I love you. You know that. I would never do anything to hurt you. You have to believe that.”

  “I do,” Carly said. “I just need some time.”

  They watched her walk out before Brett said, “I wasn’t expecting you home tonight.”

  Sophie kicked off her high heels and reached for the beer Brett had abandoned on the coffee table. “I was going to stay an extra day to see Brooks, but he had other plans.”

  “Other plans?” He frowned. “What could be more important than spending time with his girlfriend?”

  She shrugged, looking exhausted as she plopped into the chair Carly had abandoned. “I don’t know and I’m not sure that I care. I’m beginning to think our relationship has run its course.”

  Brett couldn’t claim to be surprised. He couldn’t imagine his free-spirited sister settling down with an orthodontist from San Francisco. “Did the show go well?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not what I want to talk about.” She narrowed her eyes. “Tell me how Carly found out that you and I had discussed the whole baby thing.” She tipped her head back and drained the bottle. “Please tell me that you let it slip, that it was a mistake, and you never meant to put a twenty-year friendship in jeopardy by opening your big mouth.”

  Brett was torn. Sophie knew him better than almost anyone, and there was no one he would rather confide in about his feelings for Carly. He couldn’t do that without telling her what led up to their argument though.

  “Spill,” Sophie said. “I know you’re trying to hold back, and it won’t work.”

  “Something happened while you were away,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I take it you didn’t mention to Carly that I’d be staying here while you were away?”

  “No, why would I?”

  “Well, I guess she was out with some friends, had a few drinks, and decided to crash here. I had been out playing poker with the boys that night, and I’d had a few too many myself. When she stumbled into the bedroom wearing some short, tight dress, I—”

  “Please tell me this isn’t going where I think it is,” she said, making a face. “If you tell me you slept with her in my bed, I’ll have to kill you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Relax. My cleaning lady was here today. She cleaned the place from top to bottom and changed the sheets.”

  “You’re lucky,” she said, pointing at him. “But that still doesn’t excuse what you did.”

  “I’ve beaten myself up enough for both of us, trust me.”

  “Then you regret sleeping with her?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Sleeping with Carly was the smartest decision he’d made in a long time. “I regret running my mouth afterward. I said things I shouldn’t have, accused her of…” He couldn’t even repeat the words without cursing himself for being so stupid.

  Sophie frowned. “You accused her of what? Tell me.”

  “Trying to get pregnant on purpose.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “We, uh…” He didn’t think it would be so difficult to talk to his sister about sex. They were mature adults with dozens of relationships under their belts, but he felt like an immature kid again. “Didn’t use protection. It was my fault. I should have—”

  “Wait a minute,” Sophie said. “Back up. You’re telling me you got so caught up in the moment that you forgot to use a condom? That doesn’t sound like you. You’re always the one complaining about gold diggers who’d love nothing more than to trap a rich husband.”

  “Yeah, but this is Carly, Soph. I think subconsciously I knew she would never do anything like that, so I let my guard down. It felt right in the moment, so I went with it.”

  Sophie pulled the silk tie from her long dark hair, letting the curls spill over her shoulders, and rubbed her scalp. “There’s obviously more to this story. What happened next?”

  “I kind of freaked out when I realized what I’d done. I was concerned about putting her at risk, so I suggested the morning-after pill.”

  “I’m guessing that didn’t go over well?”

  “No, she got pissed, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I remembered the conversation we’d had about her wanting to get pregnant.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Like I said, I was half in the bag, not that it excuses what I did.”

  Hearing himself say it only reinforced the absurdity of the notion. He had no idea how that thought could have occurred to him. He knew Carly too well to think she’d try to take advantage of him.

  Sophie tucked her legs under her, removed the straps on her high heels, and let them fall to the floor. “Yet she was here, talking to you. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Wrong. She was here to let me have it because I told Dylan about her visit to the sperm
bank.”

  “She actually went?” Sophie’s fingertips touched her parted lips. “Wow. I mean, we talked about it, but I guess I didn’t really think she’d go through with it. How’d it go?”

  “I don’t know.” After a quick, disgusted snort, he said, “She’s not exactly confiding in me these days.”

  “Why the hell would you tell Dylan about her plans? It’s none of his business.”

  “He’s into her.” Forcing the truth past his lips was a challenge. “They went out tonight, hopefully on their last date.”

  “So you thought he had a right to know because he’s one of your best friends?”

  “I wish I could claim I was looking out for Dylan, but I wasn’t. I was looking out for myself.”

  “I don’t follow,” Sophie said.

  “I don’t want my best friend dating a girl I just slept with. That’s wrong.”

  “Does he know about you and Carly?”

  Brett felt the same tightening in his chest whenever he thought about Carly being with Dylan, but there was nothing he could do to keep them apart. “No, she asked me not to say anything to anyone about it.”

  “Yet you’re telling me.”

  Cracking his knuckles, he pursed his lips. “Something I’m beginning to regret.”

  “Don’t get pissy with me,” she said, glaring at him. “You only have yourself to blame for this mess.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” Brett sat back, stretching his long legs as he laced his hands behind his head. “So tell me how to fix it, genius.”

  “How does Carly feel about Dylan?”

  He tilted his head from side to side before fisting his hands under his arms. Just picturing them together made him squeamish. “How the hell should I know?”

  “Does Dylan know you and Carly slept together?”

  “Weren’t you listening?” he asked, tightening his fists until his nails bit into his palms. “I told you Carly asked me to keep my mouth shut about what happened between us.”

  Sophie looked thoughtful. “How do you think Dylan would react if he knew you and Carly had hooked up?”