“It’s not easy. You spend a lot of time by yourself, which is why I’m working on my degree.”
“Aren’t you lonely?”
“Lonely is pretty much a given when you’re committed to a pro athlete in any sport. I’m okay with it. It won’t last forever, and I have my animals, friends, and family.” Lavender’s gaze drifted to Tyler, surrounded by another group of equally rabid reporters. Estie knew Tyler ate up the attention, while Brett only seemed to tolerate it. Lavender’s eyes lit up as she watched her boyfriend in action, totally devoted to him.
Estie didn’t know if she had such devotion in her. And what about all the lonely nights? Could she handle them? Sure, she’d still have her animals, but if she moved with Brett to another team, she wouldn’t have her support system she had here. In her heart, she wanted to follow him to his new team, be the wife he deserved, the lover he craved, and the best friend he’d ever had.
But she had her hopes and dreams, too, just like he did.
She’d already begun to investigate the pre-vet program at UC Davis. Brett couldn’t know that because it would influence what team he chose, and she couldn’t be responsible for that decision.
This was Brett’s dream. The choice needed to be Brett’s and Brett’s alone, even if it meant the end of their relationship.
After waiting in the car for a half hour, Estie texted Brett a few times but got no response. They’d avoided making prior plans to celebrate in the fear they might jinx the team, yet she’d assumed they would do something if the team won. Finally, she left the stadium and drove home alone. Tonight was Brett’s moment, and she’d let him have it without any interference from her, even though it did hurt just a little that he hadn’t taken the time to text her. Such selfish thoughts weren’t allowed, and she swatted them away.
Looking for a distraction, she sat down at the counter to identify the steps needed to carry out her immediate plans. Only her plans didn’t match her desires, and so much of her desires had to do with Brett.
Estie had a radical thought. Maybe if a person just let life happen—which was damn hard for someone who needed to control every minute detail—said life would have a way of working out.
She’d have to let that thought simmer for a while. It was way out of her comfort zone.
After taking care of her animals, Estie wandered downstairs to be nearer to Brett by being near those few things he held so dear in his life. Marilyn followed her, but the rest of her menagerie didn’t interrupt their beauty sleep.
As soon as she walked into Brett’s apartment, Bongo started his repertoire of swear words and obscene phrases until she distracted him with his favorite classic rock. The parrot chirped and sang and did his own little parrot dance to the beat of the music.
Estie had to laugh, somewhat cheered up by the little guy. Humphrey wagged his tail from his spot on the dog bed snuggled next to Risky. The two emotionally scarred dogs had become fast friends and gave each other confidence to face their little world. She also had to credit Brett for Humphrey’s recovery. Even though his spare time was severely limited, he’d coaxed the big dog partway out of his depression. Estie smiled at the brightness in Hump’s eyes, compared to how dull they’d been in the clinic. The big guy got better day by day.
Impatient, Estie paced the floor. She wanted nothing more than to share the victory, hold Brett close, gaze into those pale-blue eyes that would light up like the Space Needle on New Year’s Eve, and congratulate him on making it to the Super Bowl.
Estie went back upstairs. Another hour passed, one long, excruciatingly lonely hour. Estie stared out the window at the long driveway, but not one set of car lights could be seen all the way to the county road. She picked up her cell to text Brett then set it back down. She missed him and wanted to celebrate with him. Her conversation with Lavender came flooding back, and she wondered if she was really cut out to be involved with an NFL player, especially a quarterback. Despite Lavender’s words, she didn’t know how she did it. A future with Brett would most likely involve giving up her dream or putting it on hold even longer for Brett’s dream. Would their love withstand all the pressures put upon it? Already, despite Tyler’s devotion to Lavender, she saw cracks in their relationship. Estie didn’t have the answers, and part of her wanted those answers now, wanted them to fall into neat little compartments.
And what about his dark places, those places that brought on the nightmares? Could she handle the unpredictability of that? Could she deal with something she couldn’t control?
With a deep sigh, Estie wandered back down into Brett’s bedroom. Usually, they were ripping off each other’s clothes, and she never took the time to really examine this most private of rooms. The rest of the apartment had taken on a generic quality, giving away nothing of the person who lived there.
Nosing around like a stalker, she explored the room, looking for little keys to the Brett she didn’t know, the quiet man who never gave away much, the man with sadness always lurking in his gaze.
She discovered an old photo album stuffed in a drawer and thumbed through pictures of a young Brett and his family. Sadly, he didn’t look too happy in any of the pictures; even his mother’s and father’s smiles were strained. In a few photos, disapproval clouded his father’s features as he looked at his son. She counted two brothers and two sisters, both older and younger. Brett never talked about his family and rarely if ever visited them, at least not since she’d known him. Her family, as annoying as they could be, were everything to her.
Estie stashed the album back in the drawer and opened a small, carved wooden box on the particle-board dresser, one more clue that Brett was a man who didn’t care much for appearances, unlike her. Carelessly tossed inside were two Super Bowl rings amidst some receipts, a couple pens, a broken watch, and spare change. Picking up one of the heavy rings, she examined it closely. Most football players would give their firstborn for a ring, but Brett hid his as if he were ashamed of it.
“What are you doing?” came an oh-so-familiar voice from the doorway.
Estie gave a guilty start at being caught red-handed. The ring fell from her fingers right back into its former resting place, nestled among the relatively worthless items. Instead of snapping the lid shut, she fished it back out and held it up for him to see, as if he didn’t know what was in there.
Brett frowned, his lips forming a tight, tense line while his eyes fixed on the piece of gaudy jewelry in her palm. He said nothing, but that revealing muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Why do you keep your Super Bowl rings hidden away in a box?”
Not taking his eyes off the ring, Brett walked across the room until only a few feet separated them. He plucked the ring from her hand and rolled it around on his palm, as if testing the weight and genuineness of it. Finally, he dropped it in the box and shut the lid. He raised his gaze to meet hers. Instead of anger over her nosiness, his expression turned to one of regret and sadness. “Because I didn’t earn them.”
“Of course you earned them.” What a crazy thing to say. Estie didn’t understand, not one bit.
Brett frowned and crossed his arms across his chest, his typical defensive stance. “I never played a down in any of those playoff games.”
“But you were there. You supported your teammates. You watched game film and pointed stuff out to them. You practiced with them, made them a better team because of your efforts.”
He shrugged, not looking the least bit convinced. “Yeah, but any jackass could do that.”
“Not any jackass.” She pointed at his chest. “This jackass. And now you’re getting your chance. Promise me you’ll wear that ring when you earn it.”
“If I earn it.” A little of that old uncertainty crept into his voice and was reflected in his downcast eyes.
“No, Brett. When you earn it.” She moved into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. “You are going to do this.”
He returned the kiss and drew back. A smile tugged at one
corner of his mouth. He sat on the bed and pulled her into his lap. Determination once again etched in his ruggedly handsome features demonstrated by the jut of his jaw and narrowing of his eyes. “With you at my side, I believe I can do anything.”
“You can do anything with or without me.” Estie ran a finger across his cheek, and he sucked in a breath, just like he always did when she touched him.
“I’d rather do it with you.” Brett grabbed her hand and sucked her index finger into his mouth. Estie groaned, and he flashed his white teeth in a female-melting grin, then his expression sobered to one of utmost seriousness. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Not right now.” She shook her head so hard her hair fell across her face.
He tucked it behind her ears and held her face in his hands. “But later?”
“One game at a time, remember? Your rules.”
“Our rules,” he reminded her.
“We both have things we need to do, and they may not sync with each other.” She grabbed those big hands from her face and squeezed them tightly.
“I’ll wait for you. Forever.” His intense gaze burned into her, taking no prisoners, as it conquered every last cell in her body.
“Brett, please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’ll keep them.” He stared at her as if trying to gauge her intentions, and whatever he gleaned from her face caused him to frown. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Estie considered his words only briefly. “I’m coming to terms with change. It’s not easy for me.”
“Change is often good.” Freeing one hand, he wrapped a lock of her hair around a finger and held it up to his nose. “Your hair always smells so damn good. Just like you.”
“I’ll show you damn good, Brett Gunnels.” Seeing a way out of this nowhere conversation, Estie pushed Brett down on the bed. “Right now, getting you naked is my priority. Then winning the Super Bowl is yours. The rest is up for discussion at a later date but off-limits for now.”
With her best wicked-girl smile, she knelt between his knees and unzipped his pants. Glancing up, she witnessed the already glazed look in his eyes. She’d properly distracted him from places she wasn’t ready to go to yet. If ever.
Brett raised his hips as Estie pulled off his pants and shorts, sliding them down his thighs, past his knees to his ankles. She yanked off his shoes and removed all clothing from the bottom half of his delectable body. Then she slid herself back up his thighs and took his erection in her hand. Brett groaned and threaded his fingers in her hair, tugging downward until her mouth was a breath away from the velvety skin on the tip of his cock.
She flicked her tongue across the tip, and his entire body went as rigid as his dick. Estie smiled with satisfaction, loving the power she had to make this man taut with tightly controlled passion. Gently holding the base, she took him in her mouth and sucked in a soft, sensual rhythm guaranteed to send the man to places he’d never gone before. Or at least hadn’t gone since the last time they’d fooled around.
She took him deeper to the back of her throat until her gag reaction kicked in. Her head bobbed as she slid her mouth up and down the length of his shaft until she swore the man would implode from the tension.
“Ah, fuck, Estie. I’m gonna come. I am. I can’t stop it.” He held her head tightly in his hands, as if she might run away any moment. The only thing she wanted to run away with was his heart and his passion.
“Do it. Come for me, Brett. Let me taste you.” She licked the length of him and sucked on the tip, swirling her tongue around all that velvety maleness.
That was all the encouragement he needed. His body shuddered like an earthquake building momentum until he came. Estie held him in her mouth and swallowed then licked up what remained.
Sweaty and breathing hard, Brett lay still on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge, trembling from spent passion, and his arms flung over his head.
“What are you so tired for? I did all the work,” Estie teased from between his strong thighs.
“Give me a minute or two or three to recover, and I’ll return the favor.” His voice sounded tired and spent, as if he’d given his last ounce of strength to that orgasm.
And he didn’t return the favor. The poor, exhausted man fell into a deep sleep, and Estie cuddled next to him, willing to wait her turn.
Brett woke up slowly to a weird noise in his ear, only to realize that Jim was snoring on the pillow next to him. On his other side, Estie breathed a sweet, gentle snore. God, he adored that woman. Even her snoring was sexy.
Brett stared at the ceiling, not wanting to move and disrupt this happy little scene, even though his shoulder ached and his leg cramped. Spock perched on the headboard and batted at a stray lock of Estie’s hair. Brett found himself smiling like a man who’d died and woken up in heaven on earth. If only there was a way to hold this moment forever.
If only.
If only he could convince Estie that their love was strong enough to weather every storm. Except right now it was his love, not hers. Not once had she said she loved him. He believed she did, but he’d been delusional before.
She opened one eye then the other and kissed his chin. His lovesick heart soared and sang every love song ever sung. Yeah, he had it bad. Next, he’d be reciting love poems.
He propped his face up on one elbow. “Why did you leave the stadium? Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“It was your moment, and I didn’t want to interfere.” She blinked sleepily, still trying to wake up.
Brett frowned. She’d never be an interference to him. “But I wanted to share that moment with you.”
Estie looked away, as if uncomfortable with his comment. “You did it, Brett. That’s what’s important, and we celebrated later in the evening.”
A grin spread across his face. “Did we ever. Your idea of celebrating beat any celebrating on the field.”
Estie nuzzled his cheek, rubbing her smooth skin across his stubble. “Do we need to celebrate again?”
“Honey, let the confetti rain down on us.”
And so it did.
Chapter Fifteen
Between the Lines
Estie had been staring at the damn spreadsheet for hours, working out finances for her future plans. Sure, she had a nest egg, but it’d take every penny she had and then some to follow her dream. She chewed on the tip of her pen and made a few more notes on a notepad.
She’d need to sell or rent this place, and Derek would most likely purchase the house since it bordered his property.
Sylvia had offered her a part-time job at the clinic until she left for college and the pre-vet program, which would help give her some needed experience and keep her busy, especially after Brett moved out and went to his new team.
Oh, God. Brett. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Despite the short time they’d been together, it truly felt like a lifetime to her, a really good lifetime.
She felt someone’s eyes on her, and a smile tugged at her lips. She looked up from her computer, expecting Brett to be standing there, having come back for something he’d forgotten, par for the course with him. Only it wasn’t Brett, and the smile slid off her face and landed in a heap in her stomach.
Tyler stood a few feet from her, hands on hips, legs braced, glaring down at her with his usual belligerent scowl.
“Do you ever knock?” she said, annoyed at this invasion of privacy. Just because he was her brother didn’t give him the right to barge in.
“Not when the door is unlocked, I don’t.”
Estie shrugged, making a mental note to lock the door to keep out nosy, uninvited brothers. The dogs loved Tyler so they wouldn’t bark to alert her. In fact, Marilyn flipped onto her back and stared up at him with devotion in her brown eyes. It was disgusting. Tyler gingerly leaned down and scratched her belly.
“Your knee bothering you?”
“I might have overdone it a little last night.”
“I don’t even want
to know the details of that.” Estie made a gagging sound.
“Not interested in my sex life?” He straightened, his eyes stormy despite his teasing words.
“No more than you are in mine.”
Tyler shuddered and slid into a seat at the table in the dining room, which doubled as her office, even though she had a perfectly good desk in a spare bedroom. She preferred the dining room with its big windows that opened onto Derek and Rachel’s horse pastures.
“Got any coffee? Good coffee, not that crap you call coffee.”
“Yes, I’ve got Tully’s.” Estie gathered all her financial records into a pile and put a notebook on top of them to prevent her brother’s prying eyes from seeing her state of affairs.
“That’ll do. Since when do you have decent coffee?”
Since Brett spent his every spare minute with her and enjoyed a good cup of coffee, but Tyler didn’t need to know that. Judging by the expression on his face, he already figured it out. Tyler’s eyes narrowed, and he stared right past all her mental walls, right down to the truth. He’d always had that uncanny ability, and she hated it. Marilyn leaned against Ty and put her head on his lap, staring up at him like a lovesick starlet. Estie rolled her eyes.
“Marilyn, have a little pride.” Estie chastised her dog as she poured two cups of coffee and took her seat again, pushing the other cup across the table.
Tyler scratched Marilyn behind the ears, a spot guaranteed to make her drool and grovel. “You’re not distracting me that easily.”
As if she ever could. “Then get to the point.”
He held the cup up to his lips and sipped while studying her over the rim, much like he studied opposing defenses over the heads of his offensive line.
“You’re fucking with Brett, and I know it.”
Estie blanched, swallowing hard. She ducked her head, not wanting her brother to read every secret broadcast on her face more clearly than on the big screen in Tyler’s condo. Estie squirmed and picked up Spock, cuddling him close, trying to draw comfort from the squirming cat, who so did not want to be cuddled when it wasn’t his idea.
Hot Read: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 5) Page 19
