“And you’re a beast.”
Maggie shook her head, then eyed Reid, who pretended to be fascinated with his phone but was completely eavesdropping. She lowered her voice and dragged Jay a few feet away. “This isn’t about me being a beast. This is about me trying to top Reid’s time and running this with you will freak me out.”
“Baby,” he said, cupping his hands on her cheeks, “it won’t. I promise. Please, trust me on this. You’ll perform better on a team. You and I, we’re that team. Now, what are you?”
She peered out over the course, visualized running beside Jay, having him coach her along the way. Having his support while she went for something he knew was important to her.
A team.
The two of them, together.
Huh.
“You really think it’ll work?”
“I do.”
She twisted her mouth, mulled it over. Jay knew about these things. Maybe he was right. It might work.
No.
It would work.
She faced him again and gave him exactly what he wanted. “I’m a beast.” She shoved him. Hard. “Let’s do this.”
“Attagirl.”
“Reid,” she said, “are you going to sit there or start that damned stopwatch?”
“Waiting on you.” He gave her his annoying grin. “You beast.”
Maggie and Jay stood at the starting line while Maggie shook out her arms and legs. I’ve got this. All she needed to do was keep up with Jay. If she could stay with him, she’d beat Reid’s time.
“Don’t think too much,” Jay said. “Remember, we’re working with muscle memory. Shut down your mind and let your body do the work. You’re ready for this.”
“Counting down,” Reid said. “Three.”
I’ve got this.
“Two.”
Got it, got it, got it.
“One.”
She took off, her feet light as she got the jump on Jay. Whoot! He might be bigger and stronger, but she had the speed and on the straightaways he’d never outrun her. She scrambled over the log while Jay performed a perfect vault and sailed over. Didn’t that piss her off? Grrrr.
Ahead, the low wall begged her to do that vaulting move. She picked up speed, readied her arms for the push off the wall and—whoosh—over she went, her body in perfect unison with Jay’s.
“Nice!” Reid called from his spot on the table.
Lord, she was doing this. Actually keeping pace with Jay.
They reached the high ladder and he leaped, catching a higher rung and shooting straight up. Dammit. He had her on this one.
“Don’t think about me,” he huffed. “Focus!”
The reprimand snapped her mind back to her task and she flipped herself over the top of the ladder. Three rungs down she took a flier—literally—and jumped to the ground. She landed on her feet, managing not to shatter a knee, and spun into a sprint toward her nemesis. The high wall.
Jay had a full stride on her, but she closed the gap quickly.
“You’ve got this, Maggie. Grab and climb. Grab and climb.”
Got it. They reached the wall together, Jay using his strength to pull him up the rope and over.
Dammit.
“Don’t think!” he shouted from the other side.
She scrambled over the top, once again dropping to the other side and sticking the landing. Done. Whoot. A burst of adrenaline propelled her forward. The hardest part was over. On the rest of the course she’d gain time. More running, fewer obstacles, and the barbed wire. She kicked ass on that one.
A good six feet in front of her, Jay swung across the monkey bars. “Push yourself! Get moving!”
She hit the bars, swung on through, and focused on the expanse of grass in front of her. Here she’d make up time and catch him. I’ve got this.
Once on the ground, she pumped her legs and arms, allowing them to drive her as she landed on the front of her feet and pushed off from her toes.
Three steps behind.
Get it, girl.
Coming into the barbed wire, she’d just about caught up, but her heart slammed from the exertion. Almost there. She inhaled, forced herself to slow her breathing and not hyperventilate because—Lord Almighty—the man was in good shape and nearly killing her.
Don’t think. In less than a minute, she’d be done and she could do anything for a measly forty-five seconds.
Barbed wire.
She dropped to her belly
“Damn, girl,” Jay said as she cruised by him and resumed the lead.
How much farther? She raised her head and—shit—her hairband caught on the wire, snagging for a precious few tenths of a second before she broke loose of it.
“Crap,” she said.
Beside her, Jay huffed his way along. “Let it go. Nothing to be done about it. Focus. You’ve got this.”
And then they were clear of the wire, both of them scrambling to their feet and heading toward the finish line.
“Push, Maggie,” he said.
She squeaked out another burst of energy, but Jay pulled away, besting her by a few steps, his longer legs capitalizing on her fatigue.
She pumped her arms harder, concentrated on firing off of her toes and…finish line. Jay got there first, a good three steps ahead, but the time. That’s all that mattered. And he’d beat Reid each time he’d run this, which meant…
Maybe.
Reid sat on the picnic table staring at the watch while Maggie jogged a lap around him to slowly bring her heart rate down. “Don’t just sit there,” she said. “Give it to me.”
When her cousin refused to look at her, she stopped and shuffled from foot to foot. Such a bastard. Frustrated with his antics, she snatched the watch from his hand and checked it.
Ohmygod.
She stared at the number, blinking dripping sweat from her eyes. Wait…
Jay stepped up beside her, his hand settling over hers and tipping the watch so he could see the number. “How’d we do?”
“Ha!” Maggie said, her voice carrying in the quiet air. “Ha! Ha! Ha!”
She threw her arms up and did a victory lap around Reid, who laughed at her and shook his head.
“Don’t get cocky,” he said. “It’s only four tenths faster. I can make that up and the record is mine again.”
Who cared? For now, she’d beat his time. No one else in the family had. Not even Cash. She did a little happy dance, swinging her hips and arms. “Go, Maggie, go, Maggie, go, Maggie,” she sang.
“Really?” Reid said, twisting his mouth to hide a grin. “I mean, talk about being a bad winner.”
“Ha!” Maggie said again.
She turned to Jay, held her arms high and charged him, launching into him and knocking him back a step as he caught her. He steadied them and she wrapped her legs around him, kissing him hard on the mouth for a full three seconds while Reid cleared his throat behind them.
Once again, who cared? Jayson Tucker. She might love him.
She peppered his lips with kisses. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He patted her butt and gave her the magazine-cover-worthy smile. “You’re welcome. I told you we were a good team.”
20
Post congratulatory smack talk with Reid, her cousin lumbered off, leaving Maggie and Jay by the dreaded picnic table.
Jay picked up his gym bag and slung it over his shoulder. “How does it feel?”
“To beat Reid? It feels great.”
“Good. I was worried you’d be mad that I broke the record first.”
“Nah. You’re on another level than the rest of us. If you didn’t break that record, I’d say you needed to work harder.” She angled back, waved a hand toward the course. “This was a goal for me and, with your help, I reached it. Makes me realize I have other goals I need to work toward.”
“Like?”
Ooh, tricky business here. Saying it aloud added pressure. Confiding in him, a man who’d fulfilled
his dream of professional sports, was the equivalent of throwing down the gauntlet. A daily reminder of something she wasn’t quite sure she’d thought through yet. Or was that another excuse? “The FBI.”
There. Said it. Done. Done. Done. And, even better, surprisingly painless. Freeing even to finally admit what she’d been hanging on to for so long.
Jay’s head snapped back. “Really? You want to be an agent?”
“I do. Always have. Life got in the way, though. Now I think it’s time to at least try. Don’t you think so, Superstar?”
“I’d rather try and fail than spend my life wondering.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Exactly. I have to do it before I get too old. Once I turn thirty-seven, I’m ineligible. So, no time like the present. Can’t hurt to try.”
“I agree. Maggie, after what I’ve seen you do, it’s a no-brainer. In my humble opinion.”
“And what about you? Any news to report on the job front?”
He hesitated, looked down at his feet while they walked, and her stomach flipped. She’d been prepping herself for his departure, but…Dang it, she didn’t want him to go. Why had she even asked the damned question when she didn’t want the answer? She’d all but had herself convinced this was it. That he was leaving. Probably back to New York or some other major market too far from her.
But this was the life of a professional athlete. She adored him and would have to deal with it. If she was accepted into the FBI academy, who knew when and where they’d see each other?
He stopped walking, slid a document from the side pocket of his duffle, and faced her. “I wanted to show you this.”
She eyed the paper, but refused to touch it. “What is it?”
He held it out. “Look at it.”
“No.”
He laughed. “No?”
“I don’t want to look. If it’s what I think it is, it’s going to mean you’re leaving.”
“And you don’t want that?”
“Uh, not after all the amazing orgasms, no. Plus”—she waved one hand—“I’m kinda attached to you now. You grow on a girl.” She flicked her fingers at the paper. “But since you’re so bent on me knowing what this is, why don’t you tell me.”
He stepped closer, brought his lips to her ear and his warm breath heated her already stirred-up system. “It’s a draft of a contract,” he said. “Grif’s been working on a deal. I didn’t want to say anything until we worked out all the particulars.”
Then he smacked a kiss on her cheek. For a man about to break her heart, he was awfully playful.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes and no. I wanted to finish my career with the Knights. This is…different. It’s a good deal. Less money, but it gives me three more years to play on a young team that needs an old man’s leadership.”
“Do you like the coaches?”
“Yeah. I’ve heard good things and talked on the phone with them. Seems fine.”
“You don’t sound excited.”
“I am. I don’t want to leave you. I’m hoping we can work something out. Maybe you can come to a couple of games and there’s the off-season. And, you know, I think I owe you a vacation.”
He reached into the side pocket of his gym bag again. A second later, he held out a rumpled cocktail umbrella.
“I picked this up the other day,” he said. “Been carrying it around waiting for the right time. If you can wait until my season is over, I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere you want.”
Her heart did a little leap at the thought of seven days alone with Jay, but depending on the new team’s location, was it even possible to make this work? She had to try. With the way he made her feel, she couldn’t walk away. Not now. She owed it to herself to finally do what she wanted.
She took the umbrella, spun it between her thumb and index finger. “We can definitely work it out. You can tell all the women who hit on you that your girlfriend carries a gun.”
“I will do that. It may not be all that necessary, though.”
“Why?”
“I might be spending a lot of time at home.” He leaned in again, kissed the tip of her nose this time. “With you.”
What was with him acting so oddly? She cocked her head. Where exactly would he be playing ball? “Jayson, what team are you going to?”
He held up the contract. “Well, if you’d read the contract, you’d know. Turns out, the United States Football Federation has a team in North Carolina. Go figure.”
North.
Carolina.
She ripped the paper from his hand and quickly unfolded it, accidentally tearing it a little. “No way. Are you kidding? If you’re teasing me, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll never have sex with you. Ever. Do you hear me?”
He laughed as she turned the contract right side up and started reading. Ninety minutes away. That’s how far he’d be. Even on workdays she could drive it with no problem. The citizens of Steele Ridge would have to adjust to her not being at their mercy. Plus, there was the whole FBI thing.
“Oh my God,” she said, almost too overwhelmed by it all.
She threw her arms around him, smacked kisses over his face as he scooped her up, tucking her legs around him. She held on, squeezing tightly and loving the feel of his solid shoulders under her hands.
Finally, a man who understood her, who wasn’t intimidated by her strength and independence. A man who knew exactly how to take care of her.
“So,” he said, “what do you think, Mags? Want to help me shop for a house in Steele Ridge?”
Tasting FIRE
by Kelsey Browning
Enjoy an excerpt from Kelsey Browning’s Tasting FIRE, Book Two in the Steele Ridge: The Kingstons series (Coming in September 2018):
* * *
Emmy and Cash stopped in front of the Murchison Building, and she gestured up toward her apartment windows. “I want to be here. I love my hometown.”
“Which you showed so eloquently by leaving.”
“Yes, I had to leave to become a doctor, and I won’t apologize for building a successful career, but...”
“But what?”
“I wasn’t building a life I really wanted.”
“You are a piece of work. Never satisfied, are you? And now you think you can find the life you’re looking for here, in Steele Ridge?”
“Yes.” She risked putting her hand against his cheek, savored the prickly feel of short scruff. Her pulse sped up at the simple contact.
“At one time, I wanted to build a life with you,” he said, his voice edged with bitterness.
“We were young. Naive,” Emmy whispered. “But the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”
Cash took a step, moving closer until Emmy was forced to back up. The bricks of the Murchison building caught the fabric of her shirt, the rough texture at her back making her skin ripple. She lifted her hands to his chest, and her fingers curled into the softness of his T-shirt.
He leaned in, lowering his face until their lips were within breathing distance. “Pain is a helluva teacher. I’ve gotten some smarts since you left, Emmy. But apparently not enough, because I still want to kiss you.”
Standing right here on Main Street, Emmy had the impulse to loop her arms around Cash’s neck and jump into his arms. Squeeze her thighs around his waist and plaster her front to his. That was the kiss she wanted.
But that was too much, way too soon.
Still, she couldn’t resist touching him, so she lifted to her toes and pressed her mouth to his. Their long-overdue kiss was just a touch of lips. A sweet slow slide that was supposed to soothe away his anger. Instead, it yanked the very breath out of Emmy. Every millimeter of her skin was suddenly clamoring for his touch, simply because she was holding back the torrent of need inside her.
Then Cash skimmed the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip. Thank goodness the wall was at her back or her knees might’ve been in trouble.
She grasped for his waistband to steady herself a
nd hooked two fingers inside, against his hot skin. But when she tugged, he didn’t budge, just slowly heated up the kiss, degree by degree.
Good Lord, he’d learned a thing or two since the last time they kissed. And he’d been a knock-her-socks-off kisser then.
When Cash finally opened his mouth over hers and took the kiss to tongues, hot breath, and heaving chests, Emmy’s brain stopped thinking and turned everything over to her body.
This. This was the passion and yearning and need that had been missing from her life. She’d been without it for so long that she hadn’t realized what she was missing until the night Oliver had executed his clinical proposal.
Go away, Oliver.
One hand in his waistband, she grabbed hold of Cash’s hair with the other and yanked. Oh, God. A brick wall at her back and a hard man at her front.
The perfect kind of trapped.
Cash obviously thought so too, because his erection was hot against her stomach even through the fabric of their clothes. Sure, they’d done it a few times when they were dating their senior year, but those had been quick, furtive encounters the few times they could find privacy.
Not easy in a small town.
Once down at Deadman’s Creek in the front seat of the truck he’d driven back then.
Once on her couch when her mom had taken Kris to see a play in Asheville.
They’d had plans, though, for sharing an apartment one day. Sleeping and loving together in their own bed. But she’d rejected all that.
Cash’s hands came up and framed her hips, pulling her up the wall and tilting her pelvis against his. It made Emmy want to claw at him, tear at their clothes until they were skin to skin and he could slide inside her. Fill up the places she’d recently discovered were so empty.
She even went so far as to flip open the top button of his jeans, but before she could shove her hand fully inside his pants, something whooshed past them and crashed through one of the Murchison building’s front windows.
Find out what happens next and order Tasting FIRE
Discover More Steele Ridge
Craving Heat Page 29
