by Tia Souders
He glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye. Dean plucked his phone from his pocket and texted his fiancée—for the millionth time that night—with a dopey grin on his face.
“Everything okay?” Emmett asked.
“What?” Dean glanced over at him. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Callie just…it’s nothing.”
Dean’s eyes gleamed, his skin glowed, and he had an utterly distracted look on his face, the look of being madly in love.
The lucky jerk.
“So…” Dean scratched the back of his neck. “One of the reasons I came out with you tonight was because I need to ask you something. I don’t know if there’s some special way I’m supposed to do this, but—”
“Dude,” Emmett gasped and widened his eyes in mock horror. “I can’t believe you would do this to Callie. No, I won’t marry you,” he yelled, loud enough for the people around them to hear.
Several sets of questioning eyes turned on them, and Dean smirked. “You idiot. I want to know if you’ll be my best man.”
“Of course. Who else is there? I mean, I did practically help you land your fiancée.”
Dean cocked his head. “You’re seriously taking credit?”
“I’m pretty sure it was my idea for you to fake a relationship with her.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Getting dementia already?” He smacked Dean on the arm. “Callie’s got a long road ahead of her.”
Dean laughed. “Well, I just wanted to run it by you first because Jinny’s the maid of honor, and I can’t have you two killing each other before you walk down the aisle.”
Emmett visualized walking down the aisle next to Jinny while she clung to his arm. The image made him smile. Most women loved weddings, and though he didn’t see Jinny as being the sappy type, it was her brother and best friend getting married. She was bound to be emotional and nostalgic—the perfect combo to swoop in and—
“What’s that look on your face?” Dean asked.
“What look?”
He peered at Emmett closer. “You look like you’re trying to take a massive dump.”
“What?”
Dean shook his head.
If he made that face when he thought of Jinny, no wonder she was repulsed by him.
Emmett glanced away from Dean, lest he see the yearning in his expression. He wasn’t supposed to want his best friend’s little sister so badly. Dean would kill him if he knew the direction of his thoughts.
Emmett would rather take a dagger to the eye than cue Dean in to the fact his heart raced at the thought of dancing with Jinny at the wedding. Feeling his side brush against hers as he escorted her toward the altar. Placing his hand on the small of her back.
He shouldn’t be picturing her painted lips, or the way she’d look in her bridesmaid’s dress as it hugged her curves.
Emmett cleared his throat and pushed the image aside. “What did Jinny say about it? Being in the wedding with me?”
Laughter danced in Dean’s eyes. “Callie chickened out. I don’t think she told her yet.”
Emmett nodded. He expected as much. When she did find out, the news would go over about as well as a mother being told she’d have to sell her firstborn child.
With a resigned sigh, Emmett leaned back and raked a hand through his hair. Over the past two weeks in therapy, Jinny had proved as stubborn and feisty as a mule. She’d done everything to get under his skin. What she didn’t realize was that the more she tried, the more he wanted her. With every ridiculous thing she did to push him away, to annoy him, she only endeared herself to him more. He had no idea what her plan was. Annoy him to death? Try and get him to seek treatment elsewhere? Curb his attraction to her? Well, the joke was on her because none of it was working.
She was so unlike anyone he had ever met. It wasn’t just her dark hair—the color of cocoa and smelling of cookies and vanilla—or her warm brown eyes that turned molten when she was angry. It wasn’t the little crease of concentration on her brow as she worked, or the way she took her job seriously, despite her antics. Or the fact that the feel of her strong hands at work, in juxtaposition to her baby-soft skin, turned him inside out. Those were all things that he liked about her, but they weren’t the things that made him wish he could be a man worth having. It was how much she loved her job. Her passion. The way she didn’t fall all over herself to impress him. She didn’t tell him everything he wanted to hear. Instead, she called him out on his crap. She mocked him and pushed all his buttons.
Jinny pretended for no one. She was herself no matter what, and if that wasn’t the single most attractive thing in a woman, Emmett didn’t know what was.
He was caught—hook, line, and sinker.
He needed to stay away from her. There may as well be a blinking caution sign in his head, warning him away. But Emmett was never one for treading lightly, always throwing forethought to the wind.
“I heard Swanson might have a thing for her,” Dean said, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him back to the present. “You know anything about that?”
“I think maybe they went for coffee.”
Dean stared at him like he was waiting for more.
“I wouldn’t be too worried about it,” Emmett added. “I’ve seen her talking to him. She’s not into him.”
Dean grunted. “Well, when you’re in there, you’re my eyes and ears, man. We need to squash that. Gabe’s okay, but he’s not good enough for my sister.”
“Is anyone?”
“If I’m honest, no.” Dean shook his head. “But I don’t want her with anyone associated with the team. If things went south, I’d have to kill them. I’m pretty sure homicide is against the NBA code of ethics.”
Emmett snorted. The blinking caution sign grew so bright it nearly blinded him. He had to lift a hand to shield his corneas. Everything inside him told him to let the conversation die, watch the game in companionable silence, and then go home.
He valued his life, didn’t he? He valued his friendship, the team. Basketball was his lifeblood. So, why in the world was he opening his mouth to speak?
“So, got any plans this weekend?” He eyed Dean from his peripheral, hoping he’d miss his deliberate tone.
“As a matter of fact, I do. You?”
“Nah.” Emmett shook his head. “Usually, I’d fly home to Philly, but my dad and my brothers always play ball on the Fourth.” And every other time they get together, for that matter. “I can’t do that this year. I’m not sure what’s worse. The thought of having to sit on the sidelines and watch my old man play or sitting the bench come September.” He exhaled.
Maybe the trajectory of the conversation was prefabricated, but what he was saying was true. “The last thing I want to do is go and be reminded of how I’m down and out. My little brother, Jon, is halfway to the NBA. He has recruiters breathing down his neck already, and he’s only in his junior year at Duke. Wouldn’t it be ironic if they recruited him as my replacement?”
“Not gonna happen, dude. You’re not going anywhere,” Dean said.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for him. I remember when the Pumas came calling. Best day of my life. I’m just not sure I’m up to hearing about it, ya know? Right now…” Emmett lifted his shoulders and let them fall.
“I get it.” Dean hesitated. His gaze shifted off into the distance, not seeming to focus on anything. “You should come to my parent’s place,” he said finally, and Emmett just about dropped to his knees in prayer.
“Yeah?”
Dean nodded, turning his gaze on him. “There’s always tons of food. All my extended family comes. We barbeque, and everyone brings something to share. Plus, we play games. It’s kind of this whole big thing. Be warned though, if you come, Jinny will be in rare form. She gets extra hyped for it, and she doesn’t like unexpected competition.”
Unable to stop his spreading grin, Emmett basked in the small victory of the invite.
“I’d love to come. Thanks, man.”
He had no idea what Jinny in rare form was like, but he couldn’t wait to find out.
∞∞∞
Jinny
Jinny woke with an extra pep to her step. Today was her version of Christmas. The one day she waited for all year long. The day she reclaimed her title. Today was the Kimball Olympics.
She took her time showering, noting the perfect temperature of the water. The body wash she used smelled like victory, and the sound of the spray pelting the shower door sounded like applause.
She dried off and changed into her most comfortable pair of spandex workout capris, a sports bra, and a razorback tank. She topped it off with ankle socks and her best pair of running shoes. The best workout clothes money could buy, designed to heighten performance and allow maximum movement and flexibility—the textiles of champions.
Yanking her hair up into a messy ponytail, she left it as-is, swiped on some lip gloss with SPF in it, then headed out to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before going to her parent’s house. No point in wearing makeup that would just melt off the second she started racing around in the heat. Fresh-faced and bright-eyed was the way to go.
Callie was already at the breakfast counter, munching on granola and fruit. Jinny offered her a smile, grabbing her travel mug out of the cupboard. She filled it and took a sip. The nutty aroma and bold flavor instantly lifted her spirits. Not that they needed lifting. Vindication was stronger than any cup of coffee could ever be. Especially when you’d waited three long years for it.
Today was the day she would claim her rightful place on the Kimball throne.
She smeared a cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese and filled her water bottle from the tap.
“You look ready to go,” Callie noted.
Jinny inhaled deeply, absorbing oxygen into her lungs and soaking up the sunshine streaming through the window. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Jinny asked, motioning to Callie’s strappy sandals, jean shorts, and silky, cap-sleeved shirt. “You’ll never be able to run in those shoes. And that shirt.” Jinny grimaced. “You’ll be sweating all over the place.”
Callie glanced down at her ensemble. “I don’t plan on trying that hard. Besides, I wanted to look cute for Dean.”
Jinny groaned and rolled her eyes. “You are everything wrong with the female race.” She ripped a chunk of bagel off with her teeth and chewed. The sweet bread and tangy cream cheese filled her mouth, a glorious combination. She swallowed and licked her lips.
“But that’s okay,” Jinny said “You’ll be one less body in the way. Not that you were competition before.”
“Oh, thanks.” Callie rolled her eyes, but Jinny knew her well enough to know the insult had bounced right off.
“Ready?” Jinny asked over her shoulder, already headed for the door.
“Someone’s eager.”
“It’s never too early to scope out the competition.”
Jinny blabbed on, in between bites of bagel, as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and headed for her car. She paused in front of Betsy, tapping her hand on the roof. The blue paint was chipping and dotted with rust.
“You know,” Jinny said, eyeing Callie over the roof of her car. “If you’re going to be a Kimball soon, we really need to work on your competitive drive. It’s unnatural.” With that, she sunk into the driver’s seat and turned her key in the ignition.
Betsy started right up. Jinny hooted, pumping her fist in the air. “See! Today is my day. Even Betsy knows. The coffee’s hot, the bagels are fresh, the sun is shining, and I am prepared to crush some Kimball butt. Even Beater Betsy’s roaring and ready to go, eager to get started. Well, ol’ girl, here we go.” She patted the peeling steering wheel. “This day couldn’t get any better if it tried.”
By the time they arrived at her parent’s house, it was after ten o’clock in the morning. The Kimball Olympics were set to start at eleven-thirty, followed by a late lunch at two o’clock (of which the victor got first dibs), and after everyone had eaten their fill, they held the victor’s ceremony. This was when the rightful owner of the Kimball Ninja Warrior trophy received their honor and was crowned the winner—in this case, when she was proclaimed victor.
After that, the rest of the evening was a crapshoot. Usually Uncle Bill got drunk and started grabbing Aunt Mindy’s butt, then her father started dancing to eighties music, giving his best rendition of the running man, and Uncle Sal relived his glory days. If they were lucky, her mother amped up the karaoke before fireworks, and then everyone went home in food-induced comas.
She practically floated out of the car and into the house. She entered the kitchen, where her mother was prepping the macaroni salad and fruit tray for lunch. Dean was already there. His dark hair was rumpled, and he wore a ratty old t-shirt and gym shorts. He looked like he’d rolled out of bed at five a.m. and hightailed it there, just so he could beat her. A sorry intimidation tactic. But she was no longer sixteen. His mind games didn’t work on her. His early arrival meant nothing. There was something to be said for being well rested.
Dean stuck his foot out as she passed, but she expertly skipped over it, countering with an elbow jab to the ribs.
When her mother turned at the oomph of Dean’s breath catching in his lungs, Jinny smiled sweetly. She was the picture of innocence. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh hi, dear.”
Callie followed behind, slightly out of breath, carting the giant roaster full of cheesy potatoes. “Where would you like me to put this, Mrs. Kimball?”
Mrs. Kimball drew Callie into a hug. “Those smell delicious. We’ll just plug them in right here,” she said, patting the counter. Then she shot Jinny a look that asked why she didn’t ever contribute to the meal.
Jinny put her hands out in a gesture that was half-shrug, half-question. What did her mom expect? She wasn’t there for the food; she was there to compete.
Yeesh. Did her mother think Michael Phelps had time to make fat-laden potatoes the morning of a race? She swore that sometimes the woman who’d birthed her liked Callie better than her own children.
“Well, I guess I’ll go outside and stretch,” Jinny announced.
She headed for the door, but her gait slowed as she spotted a shiny silver Audi pull up and park on the side of the road. It looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
Alarm bells blared in her head. She squinted, but at this distance, she couldn’t make out the driver. The windows were far too dark for her to see inside.
“Who’s that?” Jinny asked, peering out the door.
The driver stepped out. He wore dark aviators and a navy-blue Pumas cap pulled down low over his eyes. She took a moment to appreciate his shapely derriere as he closed his door. Well, hello, Mr. Nice Booty. When he turned around, her eyes swept back up to his face, and she froze.
Shock blasted through her, and a prickling sensation ascended her spine as she took in the sharp jaw and tan skin, the hint of sandy sideburns below his cap. She’d recognize him anywhere. The broad shoulders and muscular chest below the clingy Under Armour shirt were dead giveaways, as well as his familiar swagger.
Her eyes widened. It was Emmett-friggin’-Hall.
CHAPTER nine
Jinny
“You what?” Jinny screeched, her voice shrill enough to shatter mirrors.
Dean winced and stuck a finger in his ear.
Good, his hearing would be off for the competition.
He spread his arms in front of her like he had done nothing wrong. Like he was innocent in all this, when everyone could plainly see the blood on his hands.
“He didn’t have anywhere to go, and I didn’t want him to be alone, so I asked if he wanted to come,” he said.
Pah! Like that was a defense.
Jinny’s hands fisted by her side and she nearly lunged at her brother. “Of course he didn’t have anywhere to go. No one can stand to be around him for more than five minut
es.”
She seethed as her mother gasped behind her. “Jinny Ray Kimball.”
Jinny groaned at the sound of her full name.
“I can’t believe you would be so unwelcoming.” Her mother scowled then stormed out to the front yard to greet him.
Once she was gone, Jinny turned her icy glare back to Dean’s full-bore. Now he had no one to save him.
“We never invite outsiders,” she hissed.
Dean shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? He has four brothers, and it’s a tradition for them all to play ball with their dad every Fourth. His younger brother, Jon, is about to get an offer and is all hyped up about going pro. You should’ve seen the look on his face when he was talking about how he’d have to sit and watch. I’d go stir crazy if I were in his shoes.”
“Of course he did.” Jinny rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall from their sockets. “He probably even had a little glimmer of a tear in his eye. I bet he just made that whole thing up to get an invite.”
Now that she said it, her theory seemed rather valid. Hadn’t she mentioned her weekend plans to Gabe in front of Emmett?
The sound of her mother’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Jinny didn’t need to look to know her mother was fawning all over him. She could hear it from there. Her warmth for the enemy was sickening.
“Seriously? You’re that mad?” Dean flicked his gaze to Callie for support.
Callie shrugged. “You know how much you guys look forward to this every year. And she and Emmett don’t exactly get along.”
Jinny flashed him a smug smile as if to say even your fiancée agrees with me.
Dean straightened, his expression tight. He was clearly offended Callie had backed Jinny up. “Whatever. He’s my friend, and I’ll invite him if I want. I think you’re being a child.”
Jinny crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face the door.
Never turn your back on the enemy. She preferred to have Emmett right where she could see him.