by K. Bromberg
I nod over the lump forming in my throat. How many times did I bury my head in my pillow to cry at night so I wouldn’t make my dad more upset after we lost my mom?
“That’s amazing. So it’s just sports or do you—”
“It’s more than sports. We do community service events like park clean-up or facilitate them mentoring younger kids.”
“Mentoring younger kids?” I laugh. “They’re kids themselves.”
“Yes, but for kids who feel like their lives are out of control, the notion that they are ‘helping’ other kids gives them confidence that they’ve got a handle on whatever it is they’re struggling with. Kind of a reverse psychology type thing if you will.” She shrugs. “We also do a Trust-Fall Retreat once a year where we take the kids and challenge them to do outdoorsy things. Little do they know, all staff are trained grief counselors who push the kids to make them feel alive again. Everything we do is to help them cope.” Her smile softens as more laughter floats in from outside. “Why?” she restates my question, her voice filling with pride. “Because we can and because we make a difference.”
“What can I do to help?”
Ellie puts me through the rather simple paces. How to sign new kids up. What forms and waivers their parents or guardians need to fill out. The fees to collect. And once I have all that, how to categorize them so they can be put on teams according to their age group.
It’s only when I’m sorting through the forms I’ve pulled in for the day, that I look up to find Gunner standing in the doorway, shoulder propped against it, and his hands in his pockets.
“Hi,” he says after a beat.
“Hi. Everyone picked up?” I ask about the last of the kids who were waiting for their parents.
“Picked up? Yep.”
“Was it a good day?”
“Let’s see. I ran into you. I convinced you to work here. Joey laughed more than he cried today.” He nods. “That means it was definitely a good day.”
“Joey?”
“My human backpack today.”
“He’s a cutie.” His big blue eyes and spikey blond hair come to mind.
“He lost his father last month. Suicide bomber took him out at a roadside check. His mom is a mess.” He shakes his head as sadness owns his eyes. “I’ve been trying to do all I can to help him while she figures stuff out.”
“This project is incredible.” I rise from my seat. “You are incredible.”
Gunner shrugs. “Ellie and I do our best with what we have.”
“You’re not good with compliments, are you?”
He chuckles and averts his eyes. “We just wish we could do more so we could help more.”
“Is there any other way for you to get funding?” I ask, fully aware that he’s dodging the compliment comment. A humble man. That’s not something I’m used to finding much these days.
“Other than the sports leagues, we do a few fundraisers. We petition colleges for their used equipment. We get a few veteran-owned businesses to donate here and there. But it’s not about the sports equipment or the donations. Sure, the kids think they’re here for the sports, but our aim is to build a comradery or community with other kids who understand each phase of grief they’re going through.”
“And it doesn’t hurt that you understand them,” I add, and his eyes grow somber.
“Yes. We all understand them. Me. Ellie. You. It’s a club none of us want to belong to but unfortunately do.”
“What happens when they get too old?”
“It’s the military. We do the best we can with the time we have. Most kids move in and out, staying only a few years. Some kids have both parents in the service, so they’re stationed elsewhere. Most aren’t here that long.” He looks down and then back at me. “And some, like Joey . . . man, they hit you straight in the gut.”
They are making a difference. The smile on Joey’s face today and his laughter bubbling up showed that earlier.
I’m excited to do this. To be a part of this.
I smile and take another step closer to him. Gunner’s smile turns shy, and his eyes darken as he reaches out to take my hand in his. Just that simple touch has my body aching for him.
“Is it against the rules for me to kiss you?” It’s all I want to do right now. Kiss him. Touch him. Connect with him.
“It’s allowed,” Ellie teases as she walks in.
“Go away, Ellie.” Gunner laughs and waves a hand at her. “I’m about to be kissed.”
Her laugh can be heard with the squeak of her sneakers as she heads down the hallway. “Enjoy yourselves, children. I’m heading home. You’ll lock up?”
“We’re kissing here,” Gunner says, before pulling me against him and brushing his lips against mine. It’s gentle and tender. He leans back and looks at me for a moment before doing it again. This time his tongue slips between my lips and I welcome it. There’s a softness to the kiss compared to those we shared the other night in the throes of passion. The kind of gentleness that warms me from the inside out and makes me want to melt into him.
And when the kiss ends, Gunner slips his hands around my waist, clasping his fingers at my lower back, and pulls me against him. It’s an unexpected move, and one that takes me by surprise, but more so because I welcome it rather than want to push him away as would be my usual MO.
“The last thing I want to do right now is head into work.”
I groan, and then question my reaction. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to spend as much time with another human like I do Gunner. Typically, I feel smothered easily, needing breaks and space and all of the clichéd terms you hear. Normally I’m good with the between-the-sheets part, but the out-of-the-bed part becomes stifling.
And yet, here I stand with Gunner’s heartbeat against my ear and my disappointment so very real.
“Can I be selfish and tell you that the last thing I want you to do is to head into work too?” I laugh and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “But alas, I must get some work done too.”
He groans like I did and we both laugh until his lips find mine again. “Tomorrow? Do you want to do something then?”
I think my kiss is answer enough.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chase
“So any updates on the mystery baseball man?” Dekker asks across the Zoom connection. Her hair is up in a messy bun like mine is, but there’s also an empty container of Ding-Dongs next to her that she is completely shameless about.
“Not yet. I’ve been asking around but haven’t had any luck. Kelly’s working on it for me.”
“Then you’ll have an answer shortly,” she says, knowing how efficient Kelly is. “So what else are you doing other than being way too productive for someone who’s not in the office?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, sinking back against the headboard behind me.
“It means how many freaking emails did you send out yesterday?” I open my mouth and then close it because I did send quite a lot. “I mean, did we or did we not talk about you maybe finding something—”
“I am relaxing. I’m—”
“What have you seen?” she asks. “Where have you gone? I mean, if you’re out there doing more than just working and living some, then you should have some stories for me.”
“I do have stories. I have narrowed down the top three possible social media managers. I finally signed Micah Hanover, and we both know what a pain in the ass he’s been. I am in contact with a social media analyst to tell us what we’re doing right and wrong and how to appear more appealing to athletes. I have—”
“I’m talking about non-work stuff, Chase. Quit deflecting.” She rolls her eyes, then her husband, Hunter, walks by in the background.
“Save me, Hunter,” I say and put my own hands around my neck in jest.
“Ha. I’m out of this one,” he says and holds his hands up.
“Thanks a lot,” I mutter as he laughs.
“Quit changing the subject,�
� Dekker says in her most motherly voice as she crosses her arms over her chest, having to adjust them to her pregnant belly. “Tell me the places and things you’ve seen.”
“I’ve seen”—Gunner’s face flashes through my mind. The way his teeth dug into his bottom lip when he pushed into me. And I fight the laugh that bubbles up out of nowhere—“Things.”
“Things?” she says, her brow narrowing.
I lose the battle in fighting the smile. “Yes, things.”
She stares at me across the connection and a mischievous yet knowing smile slowly spreads across her lips. “Things? Meaning a man. You’ve been there less than a week and you’re already seeing someone?” she demands in a harsh whisper, as if I’m going to get in trouble for it. “Who is this unexpected piece of yumminess?”
“Yumminess?” I bark out in laughter. “You really are getting into Mom-Mode with words like that.”
“What would you prefer I say? Beefstick?”
“Gross.” We laugh and then when it fades, I’m left with my oldest sister staring at me expecting an answer. “He’s the bartender at the bar I went into to ask around. His name is Gunner and he’s a way better human than I’ve ever been.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he’s too good-looking for his own good on top of being a really good guy.”
“That’s a lot of ‘goods’ in one sentence.”
“He volunteers his time with kids. Supposedly a decorated war hero.”
“He said this or—”
“Another person said it. Gunner plays it down.”
“Huh,” Dekker says. “Oooh, I’m picturing nice muscles, a tattooed sleeve on one arm, and hair falling into his eyes as he broods at you across the bar.”
“Or when he’s hovering above me,” I deadpan and then all but die at the transformation in her expression.
“What? Wait. You have slept with him? I was joking before.” She moves at lightning speed and shuts the bedroom door just as Hunter comes walking in, eyebrows raised, wanting to hear the juicy stuff. “This is sister talk,” Dekker says and puts a hand on his chest, pushing him out the door. When she sits back down, she has a huge grin on her face. “So tell me everything.”
It’s times like these that I do love having sisters. It’s like having three best friends who love you unconditionally—good and bad.
Now to have some fun with her. “I’ve decided to volunteer while I’m here.”
“Hold up. I didn’t just kick Hunter out so that I could hear about you doing something decent. You don’t do decent. You do calculated. You do things that elevate your status. So don’t tell me about you being decent when I want to hear about you being dirty.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s cruel.”
“And the truth.” She waves her hand at me. “So, dish.”
“It’s connected. I promise,” I explain and she levels me with a glare. “Gunner volunteers as a mentor at a sports program for kids who’ve lost their parents in combat. He asked me if I wanted to help with the registration for the sports league. I agreed. No big deal. It might be fun.”
“Did you just say being with kids might be fun?” she teases, knowing damn well I’ve yet to decide if I actually want kids or not.
“No, what I said was I’m volunteering because one, it will make me feel good. Two, Gunner. Need I say more? And three, maybe it will get me closer to finding this Ryan guy.”
“I always know when you count out your lists like that, that you’re serious.”
“You’re being annoying,” I groan.
“I know. It’s fun.” She grins. “I’m just . . . impressed is all.”
“Aren’t you the one who gave me the goal to find a cause—”
“That was Lennox who told you to find a cause. I told you to find some dates.”
“See? I killed two birds with one stone and nailed both.”
“Of course you did,” she says with a shake of her head. “Only you.”
“I have to go now.”
“Wait.”
“What?”
“You never gave me the down and dirty details.”
I bite my bottom lip as I contemplate what to say. For a woman who’s never shy talking about sex, for some reason this time, I am. “Let’s just say that I’m anxiously awaiting my first chance for more.”
Dekker mock shivers and grins. “You go, girl . . . but uh, what happens when you find the letter guy and you have to leave Netflix town?”
“Netflix town?”
“Brex told me the name but we both agree it sounds like a town on a sappy Netflix romance show.”
“You two are ridiculous.”
“What happens, Chase?”
“Nothing happens. I’ve been upfront with him. He knows I’m only here temporarily. Besides, you know me, I’m never with a guy that long.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Stop it.”
“One, you’re volunteering with him,” she mocks. “Two, he’s a hot bartender and hero. Three, you just said you can’t wait to have deliciously hot monkey sex with him again.”
“Hot, monkey sex? Jesus!”
“You know exactly the kind I’m talking about.” She mock shivers with a grin so wide I’m surprised her cheeks aren’t cracking. “Sounds to me like little Chase-y might be getting an affinity for Hot Bartender Boy.”
“An affinity. Not love. Stop implying shit that’s asinine.”
“So you say now. Check back with me in a few weeks when it’s time for you to come home.”
“I have too many things to tick off my list before love will ever be written down to achieve.”
“That’s proof you’re looking at it all wrong. Love isn’t something you set out to achieve. It’s something that happens unexpectedly.”
“For you, maybe. We’re all built differently.”
But even when we hang up, I hate that her words continue to hover in my mind.
Love isn’t something you set out to achieve. It’s something that happens unexpectedly.
And even more? I hate the feeling of dread that hits me because eventually, I will have to say goodbye to Gunner.
“That’s the crazy talking,” I mumble to the empty hotel room.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chase
When I walk up to FU-Bar at nine o’clock that night, I tell myself it’s to prove that I’m wrong. That Dekker’s wrong.
That my want to see Gunner when I left him, and The Center, behind less than six hours ago is strictly because I crave his physicality again.
I’ve sat in my hotel room for the past few hours questioning everything when I don’t ever question myself. I’ve told myself that at home, I’m normally going a million miles per hour, and therefore the desire to spend more time with someone isn’t there because I’m too busy, too scheduled. And on the odd occasion that I do have downtime, I can call up my two close girlfriends and go out for drinks to let loose for a few hours.
But while I’m in Destiny Falls, everything is different. I have less work, more free time, and no friends to call that are close by.
Is that why I’m suddenly craving some company?
Or is it simply about the sex with Gunner? Our chemistry? About me being a woman with needs and Gunner being a man who very easily met and satisfied those needs?
As I take a deep breath and pull on the door, I’m well aware that all of that is a total bullshit lie.
Heads turn when I walk in, simply because I’m a lone female in a target-rich environment. Normally I’d notice and take stock of the opportunities available, but tonight there’s only one man I’m looking at when I meander through the tables.
Gunner is busy, looking over to Aubrey as he finishes mixing some drinks. But when she walks away, he glances up and sees me. His smile is slow and sexy as he wipes his hand on the towel tucked in his waist before walking toward the end of the bar.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted a drink, some din
ner, and some company and I thought to myself, I know a man who can give me all three.” I slide onto a barstool that Nix has somehow procured for me at the more than packed bar.
“Oh really?” Gunner asks. “And who might be able to provide that for you?”
I smirk and tease, “Nix.”
The crowd around me barks out laughs as Nix sits up a little straighter and dusts off his shoulders. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says as Gunner playfully takes his beer away. “Hey!”
“You steal my girl, you lose the beer,” Gunner teases.
“Don’t I get a kiss?” Nix continues the charade.
“Nah, kissing is overrated,” I murmur, earning a lift of one eyebrow from Gunner.
“What was that?” Gunner asks.
“I said kissing is overrated.” Words I used to think were true until Gunner. Until his kisses that feel like a slow, sweet seduction, pulling you in, dragging you under, becoming a temptation like I’ve never known.
But I can’t say that out loud.
It’s hard even to admit it to myself.
So instead, I lift my chin, with a grin on my lips, and challenge Gunner.
“I’m thinking I should be offended since it’s my kiss that was last on your lips,” Gunner says as he comes out from behind the bar and approaches me.
There’s a devious look in his eyes that makes my insides twist deliciously. I stay facing the bar and yelp when Gunner spins my chair around unexpectedly and makes a damn fine show of kissing me properly.
A cheer goes up all around us as he steps between my thighs, fists a hand in my hair, and mercilessly kisses me. For the briefest of moments, it’s just him and me and this incredible kiss.
But the noise fades back in, the kiss ends, and I’m left staring at a man who has a lopsided grin and a semi-hard-on pressing between my thighs.
Glad to know he feels the same way.
He leans down to whisper in my ear. “Kissing is most definitely not overrated.”
“Noted,” I murmur and then smile as he steps back behind the bar.
Taking a deep breath, I turn myself back around to face the bar to find Gunner sliding a gin and tonic in front of me with the cutest smirk on his face. Almost as if he can’t believe he just did that. Almost as though he’s surprised that I made him do that.
