by T. J. Kline
She laid her hand on his arm and he felt the skin ignite under her fingers, heat sizzling up to his chest. “Don’t apologize for being considerate, Grant. Come on.”
She stopped to turn on a night light in the bathroom across from James’ room before heading back down, pausing at the foot of the stairs. “Did you want something to drink? I don’t really keep anything stronger than coffee in the house with James but I’m sure I could find something if I look hard enough.”
His gaze skimmed over her. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to pull her into his arms, drag her up against his body and give in to the temptation to taste those perfect, plump lips. Instead, Grant shook his head.
“I should really get going.” He glanced at the door to his left but didn’t make a move toward it. “Thanks for dinner, Bethany.”
“It was my pleasure.”
His own words repeated back to him made the yearning ricochet through him and he felt his body clench again with longing. How in the world could she affect him this way when he’d only known her a few days? Bethany cleared her throat and he wondered if she could see the hunger in his eyes, if he was making her uncomfortable.
“I mean . . . after how nice you’ve been to James and helping me with the toilet, it was the least I could do.”
Grant sighed and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was a good reminder for himself. Hands off.
“That’s what friends are for.”
As attracted as he was to Bethany, they were two different people wanting completely different things from life. She was stubborn and slightly skittish when it came to men, but he suspected it had more to do with her past than anything he’d done. She’d been on her own with James for some time and that had made her autonomous and almost too self-reliant. But he’d seen the loneliness and sorrow reflected in her face, especially when she watched him with James. She deserved a man in her life to treat her—to treat them both—with the devotion they deserved.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t be that man.
He was leaving, heading out of town and back to Memphis as soon as the doctors gave him his medical clearance to go. He had a job to get back to, a team waiting for him to help them get to the playoffs again next year. He’d already seen the toll that football wrought on relationships, tearing them to pieces and leaving broken hearts and shattered marriages. He’d made a vow early on that he would never do that. Not until he’d finished his career. But, staring into Bethany’s eyes, he felt the ache of loneliness.
Would it be so bad if the doctors didn’t clear him and he could stay here, with someone like her? Someday be a father to a kid like James?
Grant clenched his jaw, squeezing his hands into fists in his pockets. Yes, it would.
Bethany needed a man who would stick around this town, and love every moment. Not a guy who had no interest in being tied down in the sticks when he really wanted to hear the rest of the world chanting his name while he strode onto the field. They were heading in two different directions in life. He could be her friend, but that was all. And that meant keeping his hands off her, regardless of how drawn he was to her.
“So, I guess we’ll see you around.” Her voice trembled slightly, hesitantly, reminding him again of that vulnerability she tried so hard to disguise.
He nodded and glanced at his watch. “Tomorrow. Remember, I promised James I’d take him for a ride at my parents’ ranch.”
Her brows dipped in a frown. “Wait, you did? When?”
“When we were setting the table. You don’t remember us talking about it?” He moved toward the front door. “We have a picnic planned, football with my brothers, swimming in the pond, the works.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ask me about this. I would have remembered.” Bethany shook her finger at him, looking every inch the scolding mother. “You and James cooked this whole plan up and you were going to spring it on me, but he fell asleep first.”
Grant could barely hide the smirk tugging at his lips. “Okay, guilty as charged.” He opened the door, prepared to escape. “But, Bethany, he really wants to come and I told him I’d ask you. I don’t know how you didn’t hear him jabbering about it.”
Grant wasn’t sure how to broach the importance of James coming over without making her feel inadequate. But he had to try. He’d seen the longing in James’ eyes.
“You’re an amazing mother and you’re doing so many things perfectly, but James needs guys in his life, even if it’s just a male friend, especially when your father is so far away. He needs someone who can show him how to do ‘guy’ things.”
He saw the light in her eyes doused by his comment, but he didn’t see anger there and thanked his lucky stars. He’d been worried she’d take it as criticism. What he saw instead was disenchantment, concern, perhaps even a little regret. Her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat as she chewed at the corner of her lip. She might be a skittish spitfire when it came to men, but she was also a realist who loved her son.
“You mean like fixing a toilet.”
Grant chuckled. “Yeah, or a car or spitting or peeing standing up.”
She arched a playful brow at him but wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’d better not catch my son spitting.” He dipped his head toward her, forcing her to look up at him. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. James needs some male bonding time.”
“So you’ll bring him?” Bethany held the door frame, looking thoughtful as she pursed her lips, twisting them to the side as he stood on the front porch, waiting for her answer. “We’ll have a good time.”
“Fine, but I don’t want him on a horse.” She smiled up at him as if she knew that would be a deal breaker.
Tricky woman. He wasn’t about to play into her hand that easily. He made an X over his heart with a finger. “I won’t put him on a horse.”
He might not do it, but he knew Jackson would, not that he’d tell her that. Not when the opportunity to see her in a bathing suit hung in the forefront of his mind, tempting as all hell. She squinted her eyes at him in distrust and he wasn’t about to wait around for her to read his intention.
“I’ll pick you guys up in the morning at eight.” He turned and jogged down the driveway to his car. He opened the driver’s side door and turned back to her, folding his arms over the top. “And, Bethany, be prepared. The whole family will be there.”
Before she could change her mind, he climbed into the car and sped away. He was probably making a mistake, but thinking about the smile James would have on his face when he got to sit on a horse was enough to curb any second thoughts.
GRANT JAMMED HIS cell phone back into his pocket. “Son of a bitch!” he muttered, looking at the morning paper his father had left on the kitchen table.
“Language,” his mother warned as she flipped a pancake on her griddle. “You might be grown, but this is still my house.”
“Sorry, Mom.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. She might be small but his mother had run their home with the discipline of an army general and they all knew to obey immediately, even if it was just to humor her into thinking she was still in charge.
“You were home late last night,” Andrew pointed out. “Did it have something to do with this?” His brother spun the paper on the table so that Grant could clearly see the picture of his car parked outside Bethany’s house last night.
Didn’t reporters have anything better to do than to keep following him around? What kind of news was a parked car? But he knew it was more than that. He was a local celebrity, a single local celebrity. For some reason, reporters took great pleasure and went to incredible lengths to report on his love life. All of the starters on the team complained of the same thing. Most of the time, it wasn’t an issue because Grant made sure to steer clear of romantic entanglements and there had always been other players who fed the media fodder mill. Grant d
idn’t have room in his life for relationships when he spent most of his time playing or training. But now, here in his hometown, there were no other players to draw the media’s attention. His injury left him with too much time on his hands, and a certain teacher wouldn’t stay out of his mind—he’d slipped up.
He prayed Bethany didn’t read the paper.
“Nothing happened. We watched a cartoon with her kid on the couch, I carried him to bed for her and then I left.”
Andrew laughed. “Sure it wasn’t her that you carried to bed?”
“Andrew,” his mother scolded. “Leave your brother alone. I certainly don’t want to hear about him carrying anyone to bed over the breakfast table.”
Grant ignored his brother’s taunting as he grabbed a plate and piled pancakes high, smothering them with butter and maple syrup. He reached for several slices of bacon as his mother set the plate on the table.
“You’d better start watching what you eat unless you want to get that middle-age spread,” Andrew warned. “You are getting up there now, old man.”
Grant didn’t want to think about his age, or what he hadn’t accomplished yet in his thirty-two years. “Mom, come sit and eat.”
She slid a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. “I will when your father and Jackson come in.” She glanced his way. “They were up helping pull a calf early this morning while you two were sleeping.”
Grant and his brother recognized a guilt trip when they heard one. Before either of them could say anything, Andrew pushed back his chair. “Okay, I get it, I’m heading out to help.”
His mother pressed a hand on his shoulder, stilling him. “They are heading in right now.” She jerked her chin toward the back door where they could hear his father banging the dirt from his boots. “But next time, it would be nice if either of you at least offered to take a shift.”
His father came through the doorway with Jackson on his heels. “Oh, look, the girls are up,” he teased. “Did you two get enough beauty sleep?”
Andrew rolled his eyes and Grant shook his head. Their father had always been an early riser and expected all of his sons to follow suit. It was part of the reason each and every one of the boys had decided to move into the bunkhouse on their eighteenth birthday. Even now, they stayed there together, dorm-style, in order to maintain some sense of independence.
It didn’t stop their father though. He had no problem popping his head in at the crack of dawn, claiming to be looking for the twins, Jackson and Jefferson, and waking everyone else in the process.
“Dad, I have to get down to the station, but I’d be happy to feed tonight when I get home.” Andrew shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth before heading for the door.
“Hey,” their mother called, holding her cheek toward him. “Don’t forget.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek and grabbed the lunch she’d packed him from the counter. “Maybe by the time your birthday rolls around next month, you’ll learn to fix your own lunches, huh?” Grant teased.
“Says the guy whose laundry Mom just put into the dryer.” Grant rolled his eyes as his brother scooted out the door.
“Mom, I told you I’d switch it.”
His father gave him the evil eye. “Sarah, this boy is plenty old enough—”
“I know and it’s fine. I was doing our sheets anyway, Travis.” She ruffled Grant’s hair the way she used to when he was growing up and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You might be a grown man, but you’ll always be my boy.”
It didn’t matter how many years he’d been at college or how long he’d lived in Memphis, to his mother, all of her kids would always remain children and she adored them. It was only slightly aggravating.
“Sit, Mom, and have some breakfast.” Grant pulled her hand so she slid into the chair beside him as his father moved to the other side and set his plate on the table.
“Isn’t that your car?” Travis McQuaid didn’t miss much. He slid the newspaper closer, inspecting the caption. “Grant?”
“Yes, Dad, it is, but nothing happened.”
His father’s brow tilted upward in disbelief before giving Grant a stern look. “Is she nice?”
Grant inhaled slowly. Nice didn’t begin to encompass all that Bethany was. Incredible, extraordinary, stunning. Those were good places to start.
But he knew what his father meant. He wanted to know if Bethany was like the usual team groupies, like the “cleat chasers” his father had seen hanging around the locker room in Memphis or stalking him like she-wolves here at home.
“Yeah, she’s nice.”
His mother looked more interested and he could see the visions of grandchildren already floating through her mind. “Is this the woman you were talking about before?”
“There is nothing going on. I fixed a broken toilet and then we watched a movie with her kid.”
His mother grinned but his father simply tipped his chin down and looked at him somberly. “Then don’t let this happen, son.” He tapped his finger against the paper. “You plan on leaving before next month but she’s got to live in this small town with whatever reputation she gets. Don’t be the cause of something she can’t live down.”
Grant stared at the picture on the front page that clearly showed his car parked in front of Bethany’s home. It was blurry but there was no mistaking the house, not with the bird bath she’d placed in the middle of her front yard. This was the fourth time since arriving that he’d been photographed and, even after his irate call to the paper this morning, it didn’t seem likely it would be the last.
As far as he knew, Bethany hadn’t seen yesterday’s article, practically calling her out as a gold digger and now this one, letting anyone in Hidden Falls find her and James. It was irresponsible sensationalism at its finest and he had to figure out a way to squash it. As long as he was around Bethany and James, people were going to talk and that talk would lead to plenty of speculation and rumors, if it hadn’t already. He couldn’t do that to her.
Grant rubbed his hand over the stubble on his jaw. The problem was, he also wasn’t sure he could stay away.
Chapter Nine
BETHANY RUBBED HER eyes as she made her way past James’ room. His bed was already made and she could just barely hear the sound of his cartoons coming from the living room. She backed up a step and went into his room to see his implant batteries and microphones still on the charger. Shaking her head, she slipped the equipment into her hand and carried it all downstairs. James always preferred to return to hearing slowly in the mornings, easing himself into waking before putting on the implant microphones that would bombard his world of silence with noise. She had just reached the foot of the stairs, deliberately trying to avoid the memories of last night with Grant that left her weak-kneed and her insides quivering with hungry anticipation, when there was a knock on her door.
She sighed, letting James enjoy watching his show for a few more moments as she headed for the door, running her fingers through her loose hair. It was barely seven, too early for Grant’s arrival, but she’d have to get James to hurry up or they were going to be running behind when he arrived. She pulled open the door to see Grant holding two cups of what she could only assume was coffee, giving her a sheepish grin.
“Grant, you’re early.” The last thing she wanted was for James to come tearing around the corner and see him there. She’d never get him to settle down long enough for her to put his earpieces on.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said, holding the coffee aloft.
“Yes, but why?” She glanced back over her shoulder and moved between the door and the frame, so James wouldn’t notice if he did come running past.
Grant quirked a questioning brow at her. “I brought breakfast.” She glanced down and saw the bag in his other hand. Was that her paper tucked under his arms? He must have seen her looking. “We need to t
alk. Can I come in?”
“Grant, if this is about last night—”
His face fell. “Sort of.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Would it be alright if I moved my car into the garage?”
Bethany’s brow furrowed. “What? Why?”
Grant sighed. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
“I guess.” She shrugged and held the door open for him. “Let me just put these on James.”
“Where are your keys and I’ll switch the cars while you do that?”
She arched a brow and looked over her shoulder at him while he followed her. “You can’t wait five minutes?” The worry she could read in his eyes was enough of an answer for her. “They are by my purse on the counter, by the refrigerator.”
She tapped James’ shoulder, grateful when he didn’t spot Grant before he walked back outside to move the cars. Her son’s joyful smile was enough to brighten her morning immediately as he took the equipment from her hand and connected it himself. Bethany reached for the remote and turned the television sound lower so that it wouldn’t be too much at once for him.
“Morning, Mom.”
She smiled and ruffled his blond hair, feeling her heart swell with love for her son yet again. “Morning, James. I have a surprise for you.” His eyes widened, his show forgotten as he shifted himself away from the television. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and see what’s in the bag on the island?” He jumped up and started to run ahead of her. “Hey, no kiss?” He spun on his heels as she squatted down and held her arms out, barreling into her embrace.
She heard the rumble of Grant’s car engine and saw James’ eyes widen. “Is Grant here?”
It hadn’t taken him long to recognize the sound.
She frowned at him. “Yes, and I hear the two of you made plans without asking me yesterday.” He looked down, guiltily staring at his bare feet but not before she saw his grin.
How in the world was she ever going to protect James from being disappointed when Grant left town?
