Sway (Keeping Score Book 6)

by Tawdra Kandle

  “I’m not sure I can take much more right now,” I confessed. “I’m still kind of blown away by the kisses and the Lilly news. My heart might not survive another shock.”

  “We’ll take it slow, then.” Gideon downshifted to take the exit, turning down the country road that led to Peace Meadows. “I’m just so damned glad you’re here. I missed you, princess. Missed you a hell of a lot.”

  “I missed you, too, QB.” I nibbled on my lower lip. I had something to share with him, too, but I wasn’t sure how he was going to take the news. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, Gideon. I should have said something right away, when it happened, but I guess I was too much of a chicken to say it over text.”

  The smile fell away from his face. “What is it?” His hand clenched the steering wheel. “Are you—did you meet someone out there? God, please don’t tell me you’re dating some other guy.”

  “No!” I hadn’t even considered that his mind might go in that direction. “No. Good God, Gideon, would I have kissed you like that if I was with someone else? What kind of woman do you think I am?”

  “Yeah, I know. You wouldn’t.” He let out a long breath. “Sorry. What is it, then?”

  “I kind of accidentally told Quinn about us. I mean, that we’ve been friends and that I spent Christmas at your house.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “I didn’t go into details, but she knows that we know each other.” I could have added, in the Biblical sense, but I decided that sharing that much wasn’t strictly necessary.

  If Gideon hadn’t shaken me to the core with his other revelations so far, his reaction to my news did the trick. “Oh. That’s not a big deal.”

  I frowned. “It’s not?”

  “Nah. They’d find out anyway when—” Gideon made a face. “Shit. Well, I guess I might as well tell you, since it’s sort of connected.” He squared his shoulders. “I’m throwing a party at Peaceful Meadows while you’re here. I invited the whole team.”

  If Gideon had told me he’d arranged for us to sail to the moon on a private spaceship, I couldn’t have been more flabbergasted. “You what? A party? The whole team? When?”

  “On Friday night.” He swung the truck onto the long driveway, slowing us down. “I know. It’s totally out of character for me, and I’m probably going to fuck the whole thing up, but . . .” He lifted one shoulder. “I’m going to go for it.”

  “Wow doesn’t seem to be a strong enough expression for this news.” I gripped the side of the door handle as we went over some bumps. “Were you replaced by a body double since the last time I saw you? Or did you have a bad hit to the head in that last game? I’m on the verge of asking you who you are and what you did with my friend.”

  The truck came to halt in front of the porch, and Gideon turned it off. “I’ve had a lot of input from people I trust and respect over the past couple of months,” he said slowly. “I realized that I have a certain amount of, ah . . .” He twisted his mouth. “Stubbornness, if you will. And it’s keeping me from reaching some important goals.” He began to count off on his fingers. “I don’t want to get to the end of another season and feel like I could’ve done more. I had a long talk with Corey and Leo back in January, and then another conversation with Coach. The thing is, I’m confident in my talent, in my work ethic and in my leadership. I got that shit down. But I want my team to realize how much I value them—and not just with lip service. I don’t want to be an outsider anymore, you know? So I’ve started going to pizza Fridays—”

  “You mentioned that before.” I nodded. “And you survived.”

  “Yeah. Not my favorite thing ever, but not so terrible either. I can do one or two a month. That’s my compromise.” He gave me that half-smile that always made my heart melt. “I have some ideas for getting more involved in the community, too. I don’t want to just sit on boards—I want the people in Richmond to know that I appreciate their support.”

  “That’s amazing, Gideon. And you’re throwing a party.” I just couldn’t wrap my mind around that part.

  “I hope it’s okay that I planned it for while you’re here.” He looked suddenly uncertain. “I know I should’ve asked you first. But I’m kind of nervous about the whole thing, and I’ll feel better if you’re here, too.”

  He wanted me here. He needed me. That was some heady stuff right there.

  “Of course, it’s okay. I’m excited. I can’t wait.” I undid my seatbelt and rose up on my knees to hug Gideon. “I still can’t quite believe it, but I’m happy for you. Do you have a theme? A caterer? Or a menu, at least?”

  He nodded, his hands dropping to frame my hips. “I hired the caterer who Ellie Iverson uses all the time. I figured they must be good.”

  I remembered the food at Quinn and Leo’s engagement party, also planned and hosted by Ellie. “I’d agree. Good idea.”

  “No theme, but I thought we’d have food and music . . .” He took a deep breath. “I got a guy coming to set up karaoke.”

  “You did not!” I collapsed back onto the seat. “That’s it. I’m officially dead of shock. You did me in, QB.”

  He loomed over me, grinning. “I think I know how to revive you.”

  “I doubt it. I think I’m gone for good. You can’t—Gideon! Stop!”

  His fingers had found the sensitive spot on the sides of my ribs, and he was mercilessly tickling me. I laughed until I cried, and then he dragged me out of the truck, tossed me over his shoulder and carried me into the house, where we sat on the loveseat and kissed until dinner time.

  I was starting to like this new side of Gideon.

  I’d arrived in Richmond on Sunday, and for the first few days I was with Gideon, the only difference between this trip and my last one was the weather. Spring had come early to Virginia, and it seemed that everything was in bloom or about to be. The temperature was cool in the mornings before it warmed enough to be pleasant in the afternoons.

  Well, maybe the weather wasn’t the only difference. Gideon had changed, too. As relaxed as he’d been over Christmas, now he was almost like a different person. He smiled more, he teased more, and he definitely touched me more. He was easier around me, and more than once, I caught him staring at me in a way that made my heart pick up speed.

  And he talked to me . . . about everything and anything, it seemed.

  “I thought being the best quarterback meant cutting everything else out of my life,” he commented to me one day as we walked together, our hands linked.

  “And now?” I questioned.

  “Now . . . I still plan to be the best. But maybe there’s more to it than just reaching that goal.” He cast me a quick glance. “I wonder how much more meaningful it would be if I wasn’t alone when I play in my first championship game or get my first ring.”

  “That’s some deep shit, QB,” I observed.

  “Could be I’m deeper than everyone realized.” He offered me that adorable crooked grin, and I laughed, helpless to resist him.

  Gideon and I walked every day. More than once, we packed a picnic lunch and took it out to a far hill, sitting beneath a giant oak tree on a blanket Gideon spread for us.

  “I feel bad we’re eating all the way out here, and not over by our tree,” I remarked one afternoon, reaching for a wedge of orange. “I hope he’s not feeling snubbed.”

  “That tree is close enough to the house to hear us when we’re sitting in the kitchen,” Gideon pointed out. “So it’s almost as though he’s eating with us every day.”

  “I guess so.” I giggled. “Gideon, did you realize that you just talked seriously about a tree’s feelings?”

  He pointed at me with the carrot stick he was in the midst of eating. “And if you ever tell anyone that I did, I’ll swear you’re a liar.” He bit into the carrot. “I’m willing to make some concessions to help out my team. I’m open to trying new things . . . for you. But I draw the line at being labeled a tree hugger.”

  “Duly noted.” I scraped my teeth over the flesh of the orange
slice, slurping as some of the juice drizzled down my chin.

  “You’re making a mess.” Gideon rummaged in the basket to find me a napkin. “Your face is going to be sticky.”

  “I might attract bees.” I put out my hand to take the napkin, but he didn’t give it to me.

  “Let me.” Kneeling above me, he wiped at my chin gently. “Hmm. This didn’t help with the stickiness. I might have to try something else.” He bent over me, his mouth close to mine. “You know what they say. Desperate times, desperate measures.”

  “I’m feeling kind of desperate at the moment,” I murmured.

  “Hmmm.” His tongue darted out to my chin, tasting. “Delicious, too. Like springtime.” He sucked at my skin. “I want to do this all over you. I want to consume every inch of your body.”

  “You do?” My eyes slid to half-mast. “Is that a good idea?”

  “I think it sounds like the best idea ever.” Slipping his arms around my back, Gideon lowered me to the blanket, bracing himself over me. “If anything feels wrong, tell me and I’ll stop.”

  “Should we . . . talk about this, Gideon?” In the dim recesses of my mind, I had a fuzzy feeling that a discussion would be prudent, but I couldn’t quite remember why.

  “Talk later.” His fingertips trailed down my neck. “Feel now.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with that air-tight logic.

  Particularly when his very clever fingers were now unfastening the buttons that ran from the neckline to the hem of my cotton sundress.

  “Do I have juice from that orange all the way down there?” I asked as Gideon feathered kisses between my breasts.

  “It’s possible. The sensible thing to do is check everywhere. What if a bee scented juice here and . . .” Softly, he sank his teeth into the swell of one breast, just enough for a pleasant sting. “Got you right here?”

  “That would be tragic.”

  “So true.” He used his finger to nudge the lace of my bra out of his way. “Mmmm. You’re especially sweet right here.” As he said the words, his lips closed around my nipple, and he sucked it, hard.

  Gasping, I arched my back, needing more. Gideon grunted in approval, curving his hand around my breast, bringing more of it into his mouth.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Still, his teeth scraped over the tip.

  “You’re not. Besides, rougher is . . . better.” My entire body was on fire just from that one caress. “Remember?”

  “I could never forget anything about that night.” Gideon kissed down my ribs, over my stomach. “Every sound, every touch . . . it’s haunted me. Some nights, I close my eyes, and you’re all I can see.”

  I was nearly drunk on his touch, on what his hands and his mouth were doing to me, but even so, I wasn’t aware of the small fissure of panic crackling deep inside me. This Gideon wasn’t safe anymore. He wasn’t sticking to cryptic compliments and the occasional flirtation; he was putting action to the feelings he’d hinted at, and while I wholly approved of that action—God in heaven, how I approved—it was still a change, still frightening.

  But before I could do something crazy like push him away and insist we figure out what the hell we were doing, Gideon was laying between my legs, parting me, opening me, his fingers already spreading me wide so that his lips could suckle at my most sensitive places. I was so primed, so ready, that my hips thrust upward, eagerly seeking more.

  And Gideon answered that need. His hands gripping my ass, he held me to his mouth and feasted until I could only sob his name, over and over again as I soared with pleasure.

  When I could breathe again, he was lying next to me, his fingers combing idly through my hair.

  “The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful untamed creature I’d ever seen.” Gideon traced my cheekbone, his touch so light that I shivered. “When you laugh like that, I just want to kiss you until I feel what you’re feeling, down to my toes.”

  I smiled, my lips curling lazily. “Can you feel laughter in your toes?”

  “I think so.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled back at me. “And those dimples . . . when I see them pop out, I always forget whatever I was about to say.”

  “My sister used to say it looked like I had invisible fingers poking at my cheeks.”

  “I can kiss away those fingers.” He pressed his lips to each side of my face, to the spots where my dimples deepened. He was so tender that I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Sarah?” His whisper drifted to my ear. “Stop thinking. For now, just be. I promise, I’m not pushing for anything. Not now. I just wanted to make you feel good, and to be close to you.”

  The fact that Gideon knew me well enough to realize what I was struggling to hide only made me worry more. But the sun was warm on us, and lying in his arms, drifting toward sleep, I felt safe and peaceful and cherished.

  “Hey. Does this look okay?”

  Gideon poked his head around the open door of the guest room, seeking me out. The open and carefree expression he’d worn for the past five days had disappeared, replaced by a frown of worry.

  But even if his face was tense, the rest of him was pretty damn spectacular. His jeans were worn enough to look comfortable without being disreputable, and the black long-sleeved shirt, with the collar open and the cuffs turned up, set off his blond good looks perfectly.

  “More than okay.” Smiling, I came around the edge of the bed and smoothed my hands over his chest. “You look downright decadent.”

  Gideon caught my hands in his, lifting one to his lips. “Are you sure I can pull this off? Maybe I should just call everyone and say the party’s canceled. We’ve been having a good time, just us, right? Why ruin a good thing?”

  I laughed softly. “Too late, QB. The caterers are downstairs with the food, the guests are due to arrive any minute, and the karaoke DJ is setting up as we speak.”

  He groaned. “What was I thinking? All those people. Here. At my house. Invading my space. Singing, for God’s sake. Knowing where I live.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “What if they decide that they can just drop in now whenever they want?”

  “Gideon, you live miles outside of town. Your nearest neighbor is . . . what, five miles away? I sincerely doubt anyone’s going to start randomly driving way out here just to see you without an invitation.” I patted his arm. “Cheer up, my boy. This is going to be fun.”

  “Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of,” he answered glumly. But he allowed me to lead him down the steps, into the living room, which had been slightly rearranged to allow for more people to fit.

  The first guests to arrive were Corey and Ellie Iverson. Ellie greeted us both with hugs and exclamations about how much she loved the farm and the house. She stood on her toes to give Gideon a kiss on the cheek, and I could see the affection that the tough, keep-to-himself quarterback had for this woman.

  Corey, who I’d met shortly after Leo had been drafted by the Rebels, grinned at me. “Quite a place our guy has, huh?” He ducked his head to gaze out a window. “You thinking of doing some planting, bro? Maybe grow some corn or tomatoes or something?”

  Gideon shrugged. “I was thinking of putting in a garden this summer. Just enough to keep me in fresh produce. But eventually, it would be cool to grow more—maybe even enough to help out some of the food pantries in the area. From what I’ve heard, most of them have trouble stocking fresh vegetables. I might look into how we could make that work.”

  Ellie pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts. “I might have someone who could help you with that, actually—”

  Laughing, Corey shook his head, covering the phone’s screen with his huge hand. “My wife is a matchmaker,” he explained. “Not just in a romantic way—but in that she knows everybody, and she’s always looking to have her friends help each other out.”

  “That’s kind of the definition of community, isn’t it?” I gave Ellie a warm side hug. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “Thank y
ou, Sarah.” Ellie glared at her husband. “Nice to know someone appreciates me.”

  “Oh, baby, I appreciate you.” Corey smacked a kiss to her cheek. “And you know it.”

  We were spared further argument on that point by the arrival of the Rebels’ head coach and his wife, and just as they stepped inside, Leo and Quinn pulled up, too. Within twenty minutes or so, the house was buzzing with conversation, there were bodies everywhere, and the party was in full swing.

  I was mindful of my role; while Gideon had asked for my help, I was careful not to insinuate myself as the hostess. This wasn’t my house or my party. When anyone asked for a tour, I sent them to Gideon. I circulated, meeting players and their wives or girlfriends, along with several staff members of the team.

  “Hey!” A pretty woman with her silky red hair styled in longish page boy stepped in front of me, her wide green eyes curious. “Haven’t we met? You look familiar.”

  I cocked my head, thinking. “Maybe at Quinn and Leo’s wedding? I’m pretty sure anyone here was probably there, too.”

  “That’s it.” She thrust out her hand to me. “Morgan Baxter. I work for the Rebels in the publicist office.”

  “Of course. I remember.” I shook her hand. “I’ve been friends with Quinn and Leo since high school, and Quinn’s mentioned you to me.” I paused. “We should talk sometime. I work in PR for Kara and Allan Crocker’s non-profit, out in San Francisco.”

  “Quinn introduced me to the Crockers.” Morgan nodded. “We probably should compare notes one day.” She glanced over at Gideon, who was deep in conversation with a couple of huge guys whom I assumed were probably part of the Rebels’ defensive line. “Are you here with the Taylors’ today? Or, uh . . .”

  “Gideon and I are friends, too,” I answered smoothly, handing her the same line I’d been giving everyone today. “I flew in from California last weekend to visit him for the week.”

  “Oh!” The publicist’s eyebrows flew up. “Really? Huh. That’s . . .” She seemed to be searching for the right adverb. “Well, that’s fabulous.” She lowered her head, speaking to me in a near-whisper. “Gideon needs some friends. He’s worried me for a while, because even though he’s a wonderful leader in the context of the team, he’s kind of been a loner. That’s a tough persona to sell.”