by Tessa Bailey
“You bet against me, didn’t you?”
His mother didn’t even have the grace to look guilty. “Only because I’m bitter.” A hand went to her hip. “Honestly, Kyler. Letting me think you’re home for some TLC, when all the while you’re trying to sweep a girl off her feet. And didn’t even let me help you.” She sniffed. “Not to mention, I could have lorded this information over everyone. Now that is unforgiveable.”
Kyler laid his cheek on top of his mother’s head. “Sorry, Mom. Didn’t want to jinx myself.”
Another longer sniff. “I’ll forgive you if I get some details.”
“There’s not much to say.” He blew out a laugh at his understatement of the century and slumped sideways against the kitchen counter. “I need her. I love her. She’s mine and I’m hers. Her stubbornness is why I love her most of all, so I’m going about this in a language only she and I know.”
His mother burst into tears.
“Dad,” Kyler called.
They both laughed and Kyler handed her a napkin, tugging her into the crook of his arm.
“I knew she broke your heart,” his mother sobbed. “I knew you weren’t over her and I don’t mind saying, I didn’t want you to be. That girl is special.”
Hearing its name called alongside Bree’s, the organ in his chest gave a hard tug. “I bet you feel pretty terrible about betting against me now.”
“Almost.” Her laugh was watery. “What are you bringing to dinner tonight?”
“Scotch.”
Her horrified gasp could be heard three counties away. “No son of mine is showing up to dinner with liquor like some kind of social deviant.” She did a quick scan of the groceries. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have you a pie.”
“I’ll try not to eat more than one or two slices on the way.” He winked at her warning look. “Any more suggestions?”
“Plenty.” She unearthed a rolling pin from the closest drawer. “But if you only listen to one bit of advice, make it this one.”
Kyler lifted his eyebrows and waited.
“I didn’t raise a punk. So stop holding back and tell that girl how you feel.”
Forty-five minutes later, Kyler—feeling properly chastised—drove to the Justice house in his truck, an apple pie cooling on the passenger seat. Back in Cincinnati, his teammates had always found it odd that he never got nervous before a game. Chilled as ice, he would lean against his locker and wait for Coach Brooks to deliver his speech, not a single butterfly in his stomach.
Tonight? Different story.
Not only was Kyler determined to get Bree alone tonight, but hell, he just wanted Samuel Justice to trust him. Bree loved her father and respected his opinion, so Kyler wouldn’t win Bree over without his approval. Not completely. Maybe if he’d worked harder all those years ago at gaining her father’s respect, she wouldn’t have cut him off at the knees on prom night, revealing she wouldn’t be following him to college.
With the painful memory clogging his throat, Kyler pulled up in front of the Justice house and cut the engine on his truck. Balancing the pie in one hand, Kyler climbed out. But he stopped short when Samuel Justice straightened from behind the trunk of his old silver Buick, leather briefcase in hand, and leveled Kyler with a bored look.
“Explain yourself, son.”
Kyler laughed. “So much for small talk.” His mother’s advice from earlier came back in a tinny rush. Stop holding back.
Kyler thought of the cornfields. The gentle sway of the green spread out before him. All the people who’d tended to them in years past, how much purpose and routine it would take to keep them growing for eternity. Purpose swelled inside him at having been given this moment to make something lasting, like those fields. If he did it right. If he stayed true to himself and didn’t allow his stride to be broken. Just like they’d fought to keep the farm, he would fight to keep Bree.
Setting down the apple pie on the hood of his truck, Kyler straightened the collar of his good shirt. “What is it you’d like to know, Mr. Justice?”
“How it’s possible you’re eating dinner at my table when I thought myself well rid of you four years ago?”
“Mainly because I tricked Bree into issuing the invitation. But that’s not what you’re asking. You want to know why I’m back in Bloomfield, haunting your dining room.” Kyler glanced toward the house and caught sight of Bree moving in the indoor glow, carrying a stack of plates. “I wanted to take her out somewhere nice, but I know now that would have been a mistake. This—you and me—is a road that needs crossing.”
The older man folded his arms, the briefcase still dangling in his right hand. “Why is that?”
“Because four years gave me enough perspective to know I’m nothing without her.” He didn’t stop to acknowledge the other man’s clear surprise. “I’m back in town to make your daughter my wife. My life won’t ever be complete without her. I have to believe hers won’t be complete without me, either. Just for my sanity.” Inside, Bree turned to look at him through the window and his pulse started knocking around. “She’s not going to make this easy. Neither are you. But all due respect, sir, this time around, I’m looking forward to the test.”
* * * *
Lord have mercy.
Kyler walked into her house with a face full of determination. Soon as he crossed the threshold behind her father, he sent that fortitude flying in Bree’s direction and she almost had to sit down.
They hadn’t been in one another’s company since yesterday at the gym and she’d been plagued by hot needles of lust stabbing her at the most inopportune moments. Especially right now with those green eyes riding over her like a roller coaster car, lighting her erogenous zones up with bolts of thunder.
She’d worn two bras to dinner. That’s how responsive her body—most noticeably, her nipples—were in Kyler’s presence. Well, sitting across from her father with nipples hard enough to poke an eye out wouldn’t be appropriate, would it? Thank God for her foresight because they were already reminiscing about his mouth and tongue’s treatment yesterday, sitting up and begging for more attention.
Is that what Kyler’s determination was all about? Getting her down to the creek after dinner to revisit old memories? Granted, those memories didn’t feel in the least bit old. On the contrary, they were so fresh, she could remember them in vivid detail. As if they’d lain together on the grass as recently as today.
Since their interlude in the gym, Bree had tried to put herself into a more practical mindset. Maybe she was overthinking this situation with Kyler. They were two consenting adults with off-the-freaking-charts chemistry. He was in town for a matter of days, offering what sounded like no-commitment sex. They liked and respected one another. Why couldn’t she indulge and stop worrying about what it would mean if they hooked up?
She was still asking herself that question when Kyler set down his apple pie offering on the table and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Supergirl.”
“Ky.” Even after Kyler pulled back, her face tingled where his lips had touched. “Don’t try and pass that pie off as your own creation. I know a Jess Tate original when I see it.”
A dimple showed at the corner of his mouth. “Official taste tester is a very important job. It often goes underappreciated.”
“Speaking of, I’m surprised you didn’t eat half on the drive over.” Flirting. She was flirting. In her own dining room, for heaven’s sake. “Are you finally learning to control yourself?”
His voice dropped, along with his gaze, where it lingered on her double-lifted breasts. “Leaning to control myself?” He made a low sound. “Just barely.”
Bree’s face heated. “Kyler Joseph Tate.”
“Stop tempting me when your daddy is nearby.” His grin and wink sent her blood to rushing. “I’ve got a bet to win.”
“Right. The bet.”
Something about the way she said it made Kyler’s smile flatten, his eyes growing troubled. “Bree—”
“Get comfo
rtable. Dinner’s almost ready.”
She escaped into the kitchen, hoping she hadn’t shown her hand. It was ridiculous to feel hurt by Kyler being interested in her physically. He didn’t have it in him to be disrespectful. Heck, he’d shown up on time with a pie to have dinner with her father and sister. But the floor of her stomach had dropped out, half with lust, half with…disappointment soon as he made his intentions clear.
“Let me help you.”
Kyler’s voice in the kitchen made her pulse jump. “I’ve got it under control.”
He hummed on his way to the stove, picking up a spoon to begin stirring. “Tell me about your day.”
Bree tried not to examine the soothing heat that settled over her shoulders like warm wool. “It was a slow one, actually. Well, wait. There was one interesting patient.” She bit her bottom lip to capture a smile. “A bunny rabbit came in complaining of the hiccups.”
Pleasure rippled in her chest when Kyler let out a bark of laughter. “Hopped right in on his own, did he?”
“You know what I mean. His owner brought him in.” She bumped him with her hip. He bumped her back. “Turned out he’d gotten out of his cage and found a puddle of spilled bubbles the kids had left around. I laid him on his back, pushed on his little belly, and a big old double bubble came right out of his mouth.”
Narrowed green eyes turned in her direction. “You’re making this up.”
“Figured it would be more interesting than my back-to-back neutering appointments.” She laughed when Kyler winced and bent forward slightly at the waist. “Men. It gets you every time.”
Kyler grumbled for a few seconds until something seemed to occur to him. “So you, uh…haven’t been out and about in town much since yesterday?”
“Why?”
“Just making conversation.”
“Uh-huh.” Bree moved closer to him, going up on her tiptoes to examine his too-casual expression. “There something I should know about?”
Kyler seemed momentarily distracted by her proximity, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Sure is.” With a flick of his wrist, he turned off the burner beneath the gravy. “There’s a two-for-one sale on pickles at Kroger.”
“Very funny.”
“One tall tale deserves another, Bree Caroline.” Suddenly serious, he turned toward her and propped a hip on the stove. “Now really tell me about your day. I want to hear about the steps you took. If something made you laugh. Whether or not you were happy or tired or sad during any of it.”
The bottom that had dropped out of her stomach back in the dining room restored itself, lifting, lifting. Pressing against her heart. When she spoke, her voice was in a whisper, like they were sharing a big secret. “I snuck out of work at lunchtime and got a pedicure while I ate a giant chocolate chip cookie.” Their smiles built at the very same rate, degree by degree. “But I didn’t let my polish dry enough. I never do. So my big toes have smears.”
“There you go bringing up those cute toes again,” he murmured back. “Let me see it.”
Before she could question herself, Bree toed off her ballet flat, presenting her right foot for Kyler’s inspection. “Now you know my great shame.”
“Tell me I’m the only one who knows it.”
His request was packed with so much gravity, Bree grew short of breath. “You are.”
Kyler nodded, then reached out to slip a stray curl behind her ear. “They’re taking bets in town on whether or not your daddy is planning to poison me.”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Samuel said behind them, letting the kitchen door slam.
Bree hopped backward, ramming her hip into an open cabinet. Kyler didn’t even bother taking his attention off her. In front of her father, the level of intense focus in those green eyes felt downright inappropriate, but Bree couldn’t deny the pleasure spreading in her middle.
“How do I sway the odds in my favor, sir?” He paused. “Of not being poisoned, that is.”
Her father hesitated a moment, which was rare for a man who so often got straight to the point, his purpose clear. “Bree, I think Kira is calling for you upstairs.”
“I don’t hear—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing her father wanted to be alone with Kyler. Why? It killed her not knowing, but her father was the one human being on this planet she didn’t question. “I’ll go see what she needs.”
At the kitchen door she looked back at Kyler, a quick rhythm starting in the center of her chest when he nodded at her. As if to say, consider the bet won.
Chapter Nine
Kyler knew every bump of the road leading to the creek. He steered left and right to avoid them now, but didn’t quite succeed in missing them completely. His mind was in two places at once. On the girl who sat in the passenger seat looking like a lamb on the way to slaughter. And on the conversation he’d had with Samuel before dinner started.
A beat passed as the kitchen door snapped shut behind Bree.
“You want to know how to swing the odds in your favor, Mr. Tate?”
They both knew the topic of discussion had nothing to do with poison and everything to do with Bree. “Yes, sir. More than anything.”
Brown eyes, a masculine version of Bree’s, scrutinized Kyler. “Tell me, when did Bree decide she wanted to be a veterinarian?”
The question threw him. Hard. He’d expected the man to inquire about his cumulative GPA, medical history, or political affiliation. Panic set in upon realizing he didn’t have the answer. He was not going down easy now, though, so Kyler thought hard, remembering every peak and valley he’d traveled with Bree. The occasions she’d needed time to herself. Times she’d needed extra attention from him and he’d been desperate to give it. “When her mother left.”
Grief shone briefly in the older man’s eyes, followed by grudging approval. “Yes. And I advise you to consider why.” He tapped a fist against his thigh. “I don’t make decisions for my daughter. I raised her to do that herself.” Samuel started toward the door and stopped. “She puts on a good show, but she hasn’t been the same since you went away. Not even close.” He sighed. “In regards to what you told me outside, I won’t stand in your way of trying. But I have one more condition.”
It took all his willpower not to deflate into a heap of relief. “Yes, sir?”
“Get a new tie. The one you wore on Draft Day was ugly as shit.”
The laughter boomed out of Kyler. “Yes, sir.” He pushed himself off the counter, joining Samuel at the door and pushing it open so he could pass through. “Maybe you can take me shopping. Sounds like you have an eye for fashion.”
“Don’t push it.”
Kyler sat down at the table, shooting an open-mouthed Bree a wink.
So Kyler should consider the night a victory, shouldn’t he? Over a decade after he’d begun dating Bree, he’d finally gained Mr. Justice’s favor. Or at least his assurance he wouldn’t prevent Kyler from trying to make Bree his wife. Real reassuring. But Kyler found himself focused instead on Samuel’s advice to consider the timing of Bree’s decision to become a veterinarian.
Following in her father’s footsteps hadn’t been her passion until Mrs. Justice walked out on them. Almost immediately, she’d started accompanying her father on house calls, spending more time at the local shelter, caring for animals. Only Kyler had never considered why. Why was her mother leaving the catalyst?
When she’d broken up with him at the very creek to which they were driving, he’d been too devastated to look for a deeper meaning. His sole focus had been escaping the hurt and learning to live with the huge chunk losing Bree had taken out of him. A chunk that would never be filled back in, no matter how hard he tried.
But with Bree’s happiness at stake, Kyler needed to examine what really held her back from coming to Cincinnati with him. And he needed to do it fast.
His flight to Los Angeles left in three days.
With that chilling fact on a repetitive loop in his head, Kyler pulled the truck to a stop at the forest’s
edge, rolling down the window so they could hear the gentle babble of the creek. “Here’s the thing, Bree. I want you. So bad that I’ve been crying a little every time I zip my jeans since coming home.” He turned to find a bemused expression on her gorgeous face. “But I’ll be damned before I hold you to a bet where sex is my prize. I was an asshole for letting you think I’d do that.” He gripped the steering wheel tight, out of annoyance at himself. “We haven’t spent any real time together in a while. I shouldn’t have assumed you would give me the benefit of the doubt. So what we’re going to do is sit here a spell and talk. Tomorrow, if you decide to mess up the grass with me, I’ll break the speed limit coming to pick you up. But I’m happier than I’ve been in goddamn years just looking at you, Bree. Just to ask you things and hear your answers.”
Kyler forced himself to maintain eye contact. And not to look down at the quick quick quick way her tits were rising and falling.
“Why’d you have to go and say all that?” she finally whispered after what seemed like an hour. “I was prepared to lay on a guilt trip.”
“Sorry, supergirl.” He chuckled into the near-darkness. “Go on ahead. I want whatever you’ve got to lay on me.”
“Kyler.”
“What?”
“I want to mess up the grass with you.”
Talk about crying. His dick stretched up and out from the root so fast, Kyler gritted his teeth with a curse. “Tomorrow, Bree,” he managed, stars shooting in front of his eyes. “When it’s clear you’re not fulfilling your end of some stupid challenge.”
Bree shook her head. “Our challenges aren’t stupid; they’re exactly what we both need.” She blinked, as if the admission had surprised her, too. “Maybe we should have another one right now.”
Hope waved its flag on the horizon, but he staunchly ignored it. “I’m listening, but I’m not making any promises.”
“Let’s start with a clean slate.”
She turned her body, sliding her bent left knee up onto the seat. Don’t look for that sweet flash of panties. Don’t do it. “A clean slate,” he rasped. “I’m with you so far.”
