by T. J. Kline
“I’m betting Mom has a fresh pot in the kitchen and breakfast ready if you want something more substantial than donuts.” Grant held open the front door for her. They might only be friends but his mother had raised him to be a gentleman. Of course, that didn’t explain the way his fingers itched to lie at her lower back as she entered.
“I had one of the bagels, remember? That was plenty.” She smiled at him as she walked through the door. “But I’d love another cup of coffee.”
“Then come right in,” his mother said, appearing in the hallway like a magician’s assistant, wearing a smile just as cheesy. “I have a pot that’s just about finished brewing. I’m Sarah McQuaid.”
Bethany held out her hand. “I’m Bethany M—” Her voice was cut off when his mother pulled her into a warm embrace. He could easily read the surprise on Bethany’s face and laughed.
“Sorry, forgot to warn you about how Mom gets a bit overfriendly with company.”
His sister came back down the stairs, leading James with his little hand in hers. “Oh, I see Mom got a hold of you. Watch out, James, she loves little boys. So much that she had six of her own,” Maddie teased. “You’re so sweet, she might want to keep you here forever and send Grant home with your mom instead.”
Grant felt the yearning bubble up in his chest. He’d love to go home with Bethany. Hell, he’d settle for just spending an hour alone with her.
Stop right there, his brain warned. Wrong timing, wrong woman. You are the wrong guy, remember?
If only his life wasn’t in limbo right now, if there was some sort of concrete foundation for his future, if only he wasn’t nearly broke. Until he had an answer from his doctors, until he knew where he’d be spending the rest of the spring or the year—hell, until he knew whether his football career would continue or be finished—he couldn’t be anything more than a friend to anyone.
But it didn’t stop the wanting.
Releasing poor Bethany, his mother looked up at a giggling James. “Well, hello. And just who might you be?”
“Mom, this is James, Bethany’s son and my favorite fan.”
“I thought I was your favorite fan,” she teased.
“I don’t know,” he teased with a wink at James. “You might have some competition now.”
James took a step forward holding out his hand the way Grant was sure Bethany must have taught him to do but he too was enveloped in a big hug. His laughter rang through the hallway and another kick of longing hit Grant square in the chest.
This is what I want.
He shoved the thought away, but he couldn’t completely eradicate the vision of children running down the halls of his parents’ house, his children . . . his and Bethany’s children. His eyes fell onto the woman who haunted his thoughts and he saw her smile tenderly as James hugged Sarah back. He didn’t know her well enough to have these sorts of thoughts but, in that moment, he realized what his mother was asking for when she begged him for grandchildren. She wanted a family, for him. She wanted this sense of undying legacy, of loving someone unconditionally and being loved the same way in return. Something that would last longer than football and be stronger than his desire to succeed. For the first time, he realized his career wasn’t enough to satisfy him.
“Oh! I’m so sorry.”
Grant was jerked back into the moment and glanced up at his mother to see James adjusting one of the microphones over his ear.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay, they come off, see?” James pulled the magnetic piece from the side of his head to show her. “It doesn’t hurt. They help me hear,” he explained.
His mother’s eyes flicked to Grant and caught his gaze. He could see the emotion in them, a sheen that hadn’t been there before, and he wondered what she was thinking. He felt tenderness well up in him as he watched James easily explain how his implants worked in a way that no six-year-old should understand. When he looked at Bethany, he could see the fierce devotion in her face. She had every right to adore this child; he was strong and brave. He was amazing.
Grant took a step closer to her, his hand slipping to her lower back as he leaned to her ear. “It takes a pretty awesome mother to have a kid that great.”
She jumped, turning toward him, her forehead brushing his cheek, bringing his lips just inches from her skin. He inhaled the sweet vanilla scent of her hair, pulled back in a ponytail again, and felt her tense just a moment before she relaxed into his touch. His hand burned where it rested against her and his fingers itched to travel the curve of her spine, to trace the indentation of her waist and pull her closer.
He moved away quickly, only able to put a few feet between them before his mutinous body reached out for her hand. “Let’s get that coffee.”
BETHANY SAT ON the back patio watching the four men playing football with her son while Madison and Sarah chatted beside her. They cheered loudly as Grant picked up James and ran him to the end of the yard for another touchdown. Travis, Grant’s father, ran over and gave James a high five as they walked back toward the women watching from the patio.
“And that is how you show two young pups how it’s done.”
Jackson and Jefferson jogged over to the deck and reached for the bottles of water their mother held out to them. “We let you win, old man,” Jackson teased. “We didn’t want to hear you crying when we beat you at football and fishing today.”
He flipped the cold perspiration from the bottle of water at his sister.
“Hey! Unless you want to ice down your pants, you’d best keep that cold water over there,” Madison threatened.
Sarah stepped between the pair, diffusing their playful bickering and Bethany couldn’t help but smile at how quickly they both fell into line. “I’ve got lunch packed already for you guys whenever you’re ready to head out. I think you father put all the poles into the trailer.”
“The horses are in the corral just waiting to be saddled,” Jefferson added.
“Horses?” Bethany’s smile fell as she looked toward Grant, a tremor of fear creeping into her chest. He’d promised that he wouldn’t put James on a horse. Neither of them had ever been around the animals and she certainly wasn’t about to put her son onto a beast that could tumble him six plus feet to the ground. Not that she was too keen about sitting astride one either.
Grant’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “It’s how we’re getting out to the pond, unless you want him to ride the quad with Dad?”
Bethany glared at Grant. “You said you wouldn’t put him on a horse.”
“And I won’t. You will.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I won’t.”
What in the world was he thinking? There was no way she was going to let him manipulate her into allowing this.
“Mom, I want to ride a horse too.”
“Before you say no, just come out and see the horses, okay?”
She shot Grant scowl and noticed that the rest of his family had already headed back toward the house, leaving them to argue about this privately.
Grant held his hands up in front of him. “Bethany, have I done anything that would indicate you can’t trust James with me?”
“No,” she admitted, look at his throat instead of those eyes that begged for her give in to him.
So far, he’d been more than careful with her son. He seemed to inherently understand James’ need for adventure, but somehow he managed to balance that with her need to protect him. He pretended to play rough with him, all the while, wrestling so carefully he hadn’t even knocked off one of James implant microphones. He’d been just as vigilant of James as she was, but without smothering him the way she tended to do. In spite of her desire to disagree, Grant was right. He hadn’t given her any reason to distrust him. In fact, she found herself wanting to let him lead the way, to teach both of them how to trust again.
&n
bsp; Whoa, Bethany, her mind warned. Just friends, remember?
She remembered. But watching him play with her son, watching Grant interact with his family and the warm, loving dynamic they shared, was making it difficult to confine him in the friend zone when she longed for more.
Maybe he was right, maybe she did just need to get back on the horse, so to speak, and go out on a date with another man. Maybe these feelings she had for him were simply because he was the first man in years to pick the lock of the vault she’d kept bolted around her and James for so long. The same way being around his family made her long for close friendships again. Maybe she just needed to take that first step with someone.
“Bethany, look at me.” Grant’s voice was soft as his fingers twined with hers, the rough callouses on his palms sending a shiver of heat up her arm and straight to her heart. “I won’t do anything to hurt either of you.”
That’s where you’re wrong. I think you’re going to break both of our hearts.
“MOM, LOOK!” JAMES was bouncing in place, delighted as he pointed toward the miniature black and white horse Jackson led from the corral. “He’s little, like me.”
Bethany stopped short and Grant laughed, dragging her closer to the corral where Jefferson and his father were quickly saddling the other mounts for the adults. “Come on, slow poke. Let’s go introduce James to Shorty.”
She followed his lead, but he could tell she was still hesitant, dragging her boots through the dirt and kicking up puffs of dust behind her. Grant let go of her hand and picked up James, taking him to Shorty’s head. “James, meet Shorty. He’s a quarter pony. That means he’s exactly the same as the quarter horses there—” he pointed at the other mounts “—just smaller. Just like you’re a smaller version of us grown men.”
James reached out a hand to pet the horse as Shorty dropped his head. “See, he likes you already.”
“Mom, look!”
“I see.” Bethany’s voice held a note of doubt, but Grant could see it was less than it had originally been.
“Okay, cowboy, here are the rules. You have to stay quiet and calm around horses and never, ever, walk farther than their front shoulders without an adult with you. That’s a sure way to get kicked and, trust me, horse kicks hurt.”
James looked into his eyes somberly, absorbing everything he said with a focus far beyond his years. “I don’t want to get kicked. Julie kicked me once at school and it hurt.”
Grant glanced back at Bethany and could see that this bit of information was news to her. She frowned, but refrained from saying anything.
“The second rule is that you have to wait for one of us guys or your mom to help you on and off. I want you to stay right here with your Mom while I saddle him for you, okay?”
James nodded and, when Grant put him back onto the ground, he held his mother’s hand in a firm grip. “Mom, I get to ride him?”
“Grant, are you sure?”
He could see the fear in her eyes and knew this wasn’t just a question of her allowing James to ride a horse. This was about her relinquishing control of her son’s welfare to someone else. This was about whether she could trust someone to protect James in a situation she couldn’t control. It went far deeper than apprehension and misgivings. She was asking if she could place her faith in him. He wouldn’t let her down.
“Shorty is a great boy to learn on. In fact, Maddie learned to ride on him too.”
James’ eyes grew wide. “She did? He’s very old then.”
“James!” Bethany corrected.
He turned and signed something to her that Grant couldn’t make out but couldn’t hide his grin as Bethany signed back that calling someone old was rude. He looked crestfallen that he’d disappointed her.
“He’s old but horses can live a long time and he was really young when she learned. He just moves a lot slower now. See that big horse over there?” Grant said as he pointed to his bay gelding. “I’m going to ride him but I’ll be holding this rope and I’ll lead Shorty the whole way. But you get to steer him with these reins.”
“You about ready?” Grant pulled the pony’s cinch tight as Jackson brought his bay to the hitching post. Jefferson followed behind with the sorrel mare he’d chosen for Bethany. Ginger was as sweet as any they had on the ranch and would plod along beside his horse, babysitting her while he kept an eye on James.
“Yes!” James clapped his hands and jumped into the air.
“Remember what I said about staying calm and quiet.” James immediately stilled. “Bethany, bring him over here and lift him into the saddle.”
Her gaze met his again and he could read the hesitation in her stance. To her credit, she walked forward, albeit slowly, and ran a hand over the pony’s neck. The old gelding turned his head to look at her and dropped his neck, waiting for her to rub his forehead. It was enough to win her over. She ran a hand over his face.
“Okay, little man, you do whatever Grant says, okay?” James nodded, excitement gleaming bright in his blue eyes as she settled him into the saddle. Grant moved to her side and slid James’ feet into the stirrups of the child-sized saddle and put the reins into the boy’s hands.
“Hold the reins right here, just like this, and keep your feet right here.”
Grant instructed him on how to steer the pony although he wouldn’t really be directing him with Grant holding the lead rope. He knew how important it was to let James think he was doing it himself. When he felt like James was comfortable and settled in the saddle, Jackson came and held Shorty’s rope. Grant’s hand slid to Bethany’s back and he felt the tension in her ramrod-straight spine.
“Come here, Bethany, so you can meet Ginger.”
He guided her around the hitching post to where his brother had tied her mount. He slid the bridle over the mare’s head and moved the reins over her neck before taking a step closer to the woman fairly trembling with worry. He slid his hand to Bethany’s upper arm, trying to allay her fears. Electricity shot through him but he ignored it as he moved his hand to her waist.
“You ready to mount up?”
She put one foot into the stirrup. “Hold on here, right?” Her voice was shaky as she reached for the saddle horn. He could see she was trying to cast her fears aside and trust him.
“Yep. Now push off and swing your leg over carefully.” With his hands around her waist, he helped her into the saddle, the way she had James. As she settled herself into the seat and slid her other foot into the stirrup, his hand ran down her thigh. “There you go.”
Bethany glanced down at him from atop her mount and he saw the look in her eyes. It was a mixture of trepidation and excitement, fear and yearning. His fingers burned where they connected with her denim-encased leg, and desire coiled in his gut, making his jeans suddenly uncomfortable. This wasn’t like him, to feel this pull, the yearning for more that he felt with her and James.
He was the guy who hyperfocused on the task at hand and refused to even look away from his goals. And right now, his goal was still returning to his career, of proving himself and rebuilding the fortune he’d been forced to part with this past year. But Bethany had him rethinking his purpose completely. Grant had to get at least a modicum of control over his lust for this woman or he needed to leave her alone altogether.
He pulled his hand away from her leg and made his way to his gelding. “We’ll head out first and meet you at the pond in a little while, Jackson.”
His brother handed him Shorty’s lead rope and gave him a thumbs-up, indicating his agreement. With their horses walking slower, there was no reason to wait for the rest of the family. They’d catch up and, most likely, pass them on the way to the pond. But he didn’t want Bethany or James to feel pressured to keep up the faster pace his family would set. He preferred they feel comfortable and enjoy their first time in the saddle.
Grant looked down at James on the p
ony, his eyes sparkling with excitement and adventure, a broad smile covering his face. The kid actually had a relaxed seat, something that couldn’t really be taught, and Grant felt his respect for the boy rise in him as James lightly held the reins in his hands. He was a natural. He looked over at Bethany.
He couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. She was having a bit more trouble. She had a death-grip on the reins like she was holding a baseball bat and was pulling back on them in order to keep both hands wrapped around the saddle horn. The movement made the mare back up, even while Bethany pressed her heels against the poor animal’s side, indicating she wanted her to move forward. Confused, the mare tossed her head several times.
“Bethany, loosen your reins.”
“What?” Where James’ eyes were wide with excitement, Bethany’s were fearful. “I can’t.”
“Honey, you need to relax. Pry your hands off that saddle horn. It’s not going to help at all. You’re not going to fall off. Just move your hands onto her neck.”
She did as he said and the mare quit tugging against the reins.
“Now, press your heels down like you’re trying to touch the ground with them.” Her legs immediately dropped forward, away from the mare’s sides and she began walking forward. “There you go, see?”
“I think I hate you a little for this, Grant,” she muttered.
If she hated him for the ride, he was going to be in real trouble when the soreness set into her backside and inner thighs tomorrow, but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to give her any more ammunition.
“You should bring Ginger to the other side and see James’ face. That will be enough to make you fall in love with me.”
Her gaze met his and he realized what he’d just said.
Crap.
It wasn’t what he’d meant. Well, it was, but not that way and now there was nothing he could say that would make it sound better so he chose to gloss over the comment.
