Wild Card (Texas Titans #5)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to get close to you, because we’re on the same page—kindred spirits, maybe.” He gave her a lop-sided grin. “So? What comes next? You going to abandon the whole baby idea until you figure things out?”

  “I don’t think I have a choice. It’s not the kind of decision you make when you’re torn about your future, right?”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I need some time to regroup, figure out what my next move will be.”

  “I really don’t think you should write Sabrina off just yet, Dyl. Give her a little more time. I have a feeling she may come around.”

  “How many more years am I supposed to wait before that woman realizes it doesn’t get any better than what we have?”

  “I wish I could answer that.” Carly wanted her friends to find their way back to each other, but she couldn’t help but feel a touch of envy. At least they had a shot. Her situation with Brett felt hopeless.

  “What are you gonna do about that thick-headed partner of mine?” he asked.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do,” Carly said, flattening her palms on the table as she squared her shoulders. “I’m not going to let him hurt me again. My guard is firmly up. I’m not expecting anything from him, so if he disappoints me, he disappoints me. No biggie.”

  Dylan reached across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, honey, you just keep tellin’ yourself that. You might even start to believe it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Brett stared at the house he’d grown up in, the same house where Carly had fallen in love with him, and wondered why he was there. Carly’s words echoed in his mind, and he realized what had led him to his parents’ doorstep. He needed answers. He had to figure out where he’d veered off course and how he could get back before it was too late.

  He walked in, smiling faintly when he heard a football game filtering in from the family room and blending with the scent of his mother’s homemade apple pie in the kitchen. Glancing at the foyer table he’d passed hundreds of times, he picked up a picture taken the night of Carly’s junior prom. She had been waiting for her date to pick her up, and Brett had thrown his arm around her to give her a little friendly advice when his sister took the candid shot. Looking at their young faces, it was painful to see what he’d been blind to back then: the adoration in her eyes. He wondered if he’d ever see that look on her face again. Or was it too late?

  “Hey,” his mom said, rounding the corner. “I thought I heard someone come in. This is a nice surprise. Did you come to watch the game with your dad?” She switched on the hall light and frowned when she caught a glimpse of his face. She took his chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Do I want to know how this happened?”

  His mother had tended to more of his cuts and bruises than he could count growing up, and all of them had come with a lecture about responsible behavior. But he didn’t need a lecture tonight. He needed advice from someone who was a hell of a lot smarter than he was. “Dylan and I got into it.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” She shook her head, looking almost amused. “After the way you went off about Carly and Dylan, I was afraid it might come to this.” She dragged him down the hall toward the kitchen. “You can talk football with your dad later. Come talk to me first.”

  “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Brett didn’t know why he hadn’t made more of an effort to stop by. This was the only place he truly felt at home, maybe because love and warmth had always permeated the old house.

  She pointed at a carved oak chair at the large rectangular table. “Sit. I’ll cut you a piece of pie. You want some coffee to go with it?”

  “Sure, why not?” He didn’t expect to sleep that night anyway. He had too much on his mind. “I’m takin’ a little time off work. Thinking about goin’ up to my cabin for a while, you know, to sort some things out.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” his mom said, setting a mug and plate in front of him. “You don’t take enough time to relax. Maybe get a little fishing in while you’re up there.”

  “Yeah, I just might do that.” He took a bite of the pie, closing his eyes as the perfectly blended flavors exploded on his tongue. “God, how does this keep getting better and better?”

  “It doesn’t. You just haven’t tasted it in a long while.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Brett knew it shouldn’t be so difficult to find the right words. She was his mother, the person who’d seen him at his absolute worst and loved him anyway. “I’m sorry I haven’t made more of an effort to stop by lately. That’s one of the many things I’d like to change.” If nothing else, he had Carly to thank for making him see the light.

  “One of the things?” she asked. “Now you’ve got me curious. What else do you plan to change?”

  “Just about everything. How did my life get to be so fu—” He laughed when his mother shot him an exasperated look. The word died on his lips. “How did I mess things up so bad, Mama? Seriously, I wasted so much time feelin’ sorry for myself because my life didn’t turn out exactly the way I thought it would instead of being grateful for everything I had. What the hell’s wrong with me?”

  Ethel reached for his hand, a smile twisting her lips. “You were never one to give up. You were the most stubborn boy, so obstinate. I couldn’t tell you a thing.”

  Brett remembered his mother threatening to get his father if he didn’t learn to mind her. Brett had always had a mind of his own, and once he decided on something, he was all in. “You think that’s the reason I couldn’t give up on the football dream, even after I knew there was no way it could ever happen?”

  “You’re not a quitter.” She withdrew her hand to fold her arms on the table. “That was something that was beyond your control, and you hated it. I think that’s why you withdrew from your family and the friends you had before, because they were a constant reminder of that dream. You looked at me and your dad and saw us cheering for you in the stands. You saw your sister in her uniform, cheering from the sidelines, so proud of her big brother. And Carly…”

  Brett’s gut twisted every time he thought about Carly. He wondered what she was doing and whether she was still thinking about him.

  “You were so sure Carly loved you because you were some hot-shot athlete on your way to the big leagues. Once you lost that, you thought you had nothing left to offer a girl like her.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You may not have seen it, but I did.” His mother smiled. “You loved the way she looked at you. You looked ten feet tall, like you could do anything. Then when you came home that summer, after your injury, you couldn’t even look her in the eye anymore.”

  “I don’t remember that,” he said, thinking back to the way he’d felt then. “I just remember wondering what the hell I was going to do without football.”

  “I knew you could survive without football, but when I saw you cutting yourself off from your family and friends, spiraling deeper into depression, that’s what really scared me.”

  Brett had been so caught up in his own turmoil that he hadn’t thought about how his pain had impacted those around him. Just like Carly had said, he was too self-absorbed to care.

  “Carly came to me so many times, asking how I thought she could help you.”

  “She did?” Brett pushed his plate aside when his gut churned. Fisting his hands, he propped his elbows on the table. “How could I have been so blind? Why did it take me so damn long to realize how amazing she is?”

  She smiled. “Ah, so you have realized it? I’m glad to hear that. I wasn’t sure if you would ever figure it out.”

  “Too little, too late, I’m afraid.”

  “Because of Dylan?”

  Brett closed his eyes, trying to shut out the image of his best friend making love to the woman he didn’t want to live without. “That may be part of it, but…” Having to admit that he was responsible for his own misery was hard, but Brett had to start accep
ting responsibility for his actions if he wanted his life to improve. “She wouldn’t even be with Dylan if I hadn’t driven her right into his arms.”

  “How’d you do that?” his mother asked, tipping her head.

  “By being so clueless. By taking her for granted. By not realizing a long time ago that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  She leaned over to rub his back. “Oh honey, you don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I didn’t want to interfere, but I always prayed you and Carly would find your way to each other.”

  “But what if it’s too late? What if I waited too long and she won’t even consider giving me a chance? I want this. I want her, but how do I convince her of that?”

  “You know what they say, son. Actions speak louder than words.”

  ***

  Carly was curled up on her couch with a throw around her shoulders when the doorbell rang. She considered ignoring it since she wasn’t expecting anyone and didn’t feel like company, but it might have been the cute paperboy who lived next door. Just because her life was going to hell didn’t mean she could shirk her responsibilities.

  She opened the door while looking for her purse. “Hey, Jason, just—”

  “Who’s Jason?” Brett asked, leaning against the doorframe.

  Her heart was already racing, and he hadn’t even stepped inside yet. She blamed it on those damn faded jeans that hugged him in all the right places, artfully torn to reveal a glimpse of dark skin. She dragged her gaze back to his eyes, but she didn’t know which was worse: those snug jeans or his mesmerizing eyes. No wonder every other man she’d ever dated had fallen short. “What are you doing here? I heard you were out of town.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe.

  “Dylan may have mentioned it.”

  “Hmm. Does Dylan know about this Jason guy?”

  She considered messing with him but decided against it. “I don’t think Dylan would care, since we’re not seeing each other anymore.”

  “You’re not?” Brett appeared to be holding his breath. “When did that happen?”

  “Earlier today.”

  “Your decision or his?”

  “It was mutual.”

  “About this Jason guy…”

  “My paperboy.” Carly walked away from the door without inviting him in. She knew he hadn’t come over to stand on her front porch all night, but she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook without making him squirm a little.

  He didn’t hesitate to accept her unspoken invitation, following her inside and closing the door. “Are you upset about Dylan?” He seemed hesitant as he lingered in the small foyer rather than crossing into the living room.

  “No.” She reached for the remote and turned off the TV. “Why would I be?”

  “Things were serious enough that y’all were considering having a baby together.”

  “I don’t think either one of us ever considered it a real possibility. He threw the idea out there as a solution to my dilemma.” She tucked her legs under her on the couch, letting the throw slip down to her waist when she saw his eyes lingering on her breasts. She’d changed into workout gear when she’d gotten home, intent on hitting the treadmill, but she hadn’t made it there yet. She was suddenly grateful for the yoga pants and racer-back tank. Judging by Brett’s dilated pupils and the way he was licking his lips, he liked what he saw. No matter how many times she told herself she was over him, she enjoyed his open admiration after so many years of feeling invisible to him.

  “Have you eaten yet?” he asked. “We could go grab a pizza. Talk?”

  “About what?” She’d never been very good at feigning indifference, especially where Brett was concerned, but she couldn’t behave the same way she always had and expect a different result.

  “Carly, come on. I’m tryin’ here. Can you cut me a little slack?” He shoved a hand into his pocket.

  She wanted to—she really, really wanted to—but giving him the upper hand in an emotional tug-of-war would land her on her ass again. “I don’t know what you want from me.” She couldn’t help but wince when she looked at his face. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of his fight. “You were an idiot to fight with Dylan. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “What was I thinking?” He crossed the room, tore the throw out of her hands, and tossed it aside. “You really want to know?” He lowered himself to the couch beside her, intentionally crowding her on the small two-seater. “That it would kill me to let him have you.”

  “Brett…” When he shifted, resting his hand on the back of the couch behind her head, she couldn’t breathe, much less remember the reasons she didn’t want him to get too close.

  “The thought of you having a baby with another man, especially my best friend, damn near destroyed me,” he whispered, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. “You’re mine. I can’t let anyone else have you.”

  Thrill bumps raced all over her skin as his fingertip tracked them across her arms, down her chest, and over the swell of her breasts. She watched his hand, mesmerized as his words enhanced the mind-numbing effect of his touch. The fact that she had the power to destroy him made her feel a renewed sense of strength. Maybe the balance of power was shifting, giving her a winning hand for once.

  She closed her eyes when he dropped his head to the crook of her neck. She gasped when she felt his warm breath right before his tongue descended on that spot men rarely took the time to find. That secret site would make her do or say almost anything. Her body went lax as her head rolled back against his arm. Her hands found his shoulders, pulling him closer. He slipped the tank strap over her shoulder, continuing his exploration as her breath quickened, letting him know he was definitely on the right path.

  “Brett…”

  His hand slid under her tank, and he moaned when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. “I need you, baby. It may have taken me a long time to realize it, but now that I have, I’m never letting you go.”

  Carly tried to remind herself of the dozen men who’d said something similar to her in the past, trying to wear her down to get her into bed. She couldn’t afford to believe anything Brett said. He’d hurt her countless times, whether he’d intended to or not, and she couldn’t let him hurt her again. Could she separate her emotions from the physical act? Could she have sex with him without allowing herself to believe they were making love? She’d done it once, and she was still in one piece—more or less. Surely one more time couldn’t hurt.

  “Let me make love to you,” he whispered, his tongue skating over her lips. “Let me prove to you that I can’t live without you.”

  His claim prompted a shudder to move through her.

  He closed his arms around her. “You cold?”

  “A little,” she lied. She could never tell him how much she wanted to believe him.

  “Let’s take this into the bedroom.” His kiss was slow and seductive, freezing her mind while thawing her heart.

  That was the moment of truth. Could she really give her body to him without reading forever in his every kiss and touch?

  “Don’t think, sweetheart. Just feel. Feel how right this is.”

  ***

  They were naked and wrapped in each other’s arms, but Brett had never felt the distance between them more acutely than he did in that moment. She refused to let herself go, unable to believe he’d be there to catch her.

  “Condom,” she whispered, reaching for the nightstand. “Grab one.”

  “We don’t need one, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want. The only thing that matters to me is making you happy. Let me prove to you I can—”

  She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “No, I can’t. Please just use the condom, Brett. If you don’t, I can’t do this.”

  He stared at her, willing her to open her eyes and see him for the man he was, not the man he used to be. But it would take longer than days or weeks to prove that he was a
changed man. Like Jaxon had said, he had to let her make her own decisions and reach her own conclusions, no matter how difficult that may be.

  Brett sheathed himself, frustrated over putting yet another barrier he didn’t want between them. He brushed his lips across her cheek as he buried his shaft deep inside her. “Just let yourself go. Give yourself to me the way you’ve always wanted to, sweetness.”

  The endearment prompted her to open her eyes. He hadn’t called her that in years, not since the night she gave her innocence to the wrong man.

  “You can trust me,” he said, directing all of his focus and attention on making her feel good. His every thrust met with a soft moan as he filled the empty places in her body and soul. “I swear to you I will never hurt you again. Just let me love you. Tell me you love me. Please.”

  He stilled, praying she would find the words to give him the hope he needed to continue fighting, but they never came. Their bodies connected, giving them endless pleasure as one release bled into another. But when she rolled away without uttering a word and fell into a deep sleep, or at least pretended to, he knew she wasn’t ready to trust him. That left him only one choice: he had to let her go.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carly rolled over the next morning, expecting to curl into a warm chest. Instead she found a cold pillow and a note.

  Carly,

  Take your time. Find your way. I’ll be waiting.

  I love you.

  Brett

  She pressed the paper against her trembling lips. He was saying all the right words, giving her more than she’d ever dared hope for, but the higher he took her, the harder she’d fall if he let go. Could she really risk that? What if he thought she was everything he wanted now but changed his mind in a few months, when their relationship settled him into a natural rhythm he found mundane and boring?

  The cell phone on her nightstand vibrated, and she lunged for it, hoping it was him. It was Sophie. She hadn’t answered any of Sophie’s calls since their falling out, but she realized if she was willing to forgive Brett, she had to be willing to forgive Sophie as well. Besides, she missed her best friend.