by Mari Carr
When they parted, Coach gestured to the chair across from the couch. Tucker claimed it.
“Damn good to see you, boy.”
Tucker smiled. “Good to see you too.” Apart from the occasional phone calls with Joel, the only other person Tucker had remained in touch with over the years had been Coach. Tucker had turned to the man for career advice time after time as he’d moved from college ball to the pros. Coach had never steered him wrong.
The only thing Tucker hadn’t talked to him about was the decision he was grappling with now. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t confided in Coach. Part of him figured he was too afraid to hear the man’s response.
“So how long are you planning to stay in Quinn?” As he spoke, Coach pushed himself up to a more comfortable position. The movement clearly caused him a bit of pain.
Tucker shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Shouldn’t you be heading to training camp soon?”
Tucker had known before he came here today he’d have to answer that question. He’d sort of evaded it with Joel on his first day in town, but folks were obviously curious about why he was here and not there.
“I’m on the injured reserve list.”
Coach studied him. “Head?”
Tucker nodded, not bothering to lie. It was apparent he didn’t have any broken bones or other visible injuries.
“That was a hard hit you took in that last game.”
Tucker swallowed heavily. “Concussion.”
Coach scrutinized his face too closely and Tucker resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably. “Headaches?”
Again Tucker nodded.
“Still?” Coach asked. Tucker had said less than twenty words since entering the room, but it didn’t matter. Coach was putting the pieces together pretty damn fast.
“Yeah.”
Tucker held his breath, waiting to see what Coach would say next. Would he tell him to beat back the pain, fight through it? Or would he tell him to walk away?
“You’re not sure if you’re going back, are you?”
Tucker blew out a long sigh, then shook his head. “Another hit and the doctors say I’m in danger of permanent brain damage. I’ve had too many concussions. The thing is…I think we’ve got a real shot at the Super Bowl this year. A really good shot.”
Coach folded his arms, his brows furrowed, while Tucker awaited his response.
Finally, Coach gave him a rueful grin. “Life’s a bitch sometimes, isn’t it?”
Tucker frowned. That was it? “That’s your answer?”
Coach lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t hear you ask me a question. Besides, this isn’t my decision. It’s yours.”
“Yeah, but don’t you have any advice?”
Coach tugged the blanket over his lap a bit higher. “I could offer you some. I’ve always got an opinion. You know that.”
Tucker chuckled, despite the heavy pressure pushing against his chest. It was always this way with Coach. Even when he was at his wit’s end and it felt like the world was falling apart, his coach always found a way to make him smile, to make it all seem a bit less dire.
“The thing is, Tucker, my advice is worthless to you. We all make the big decisions based on our previous experience. My experiences are different than yours. The things that would make me decide one way or the other aren’t what are driving you. That’s the beauty of being human. The freedom to choose our own paths.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Tucker admitted.
Coach smiled. “I’m pretty sure you know exactly what you’re going to do. You’re just not ready to accept it yet. Give it time and stop thinking so damn hard. I can tell from the lines in your face and the dark circles under your eyes you’ve been letting this eat away at you for a long time. You need a distraction.”
For a moment, Lela’s face flashed in Tucker’s mind. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since seeing her in the diner. She was absolutely beautiful. He’d seen her sitting in that booth and it felt like all the air in his body had flown out in a loud whoosh. It had taken him a few seconds to find enough breath to speak.
She’d be a perfect distraction if not for two things. For one, he’d broken her heart after graduation and been a grade-A prick for not returning her calls or emails. There was no way in hell he’d risk hurting her again. And secondly, the guy she’d been sitting with—according to Joel—was her boyfriend.
Lela was off-limits.
“A distraction, huh? What did you have in mind?” Tucker asked.
Coach’s grin grew. “You look like you’ve let yourself go soft, my boy. What did I always tell you?”
Tucker didn’t even have to think about the answer, though it was a lesson he had forgotten these past few months. “Sweat and hard work are the answer to every question.”
Coach nodded, then his face sobered up. “I’m worried about Lorelie. She’s been working herself ragged since my damn heart attack. Joel and Oakley are pulling long hours. Jackson and Wade are back in town too. They’ve been helping out some. I’d give anything to be able to get off this couch and take some of the load away from her, but…”
Coach was a proud man, one who didn’t like to be beholden to others. Tucker could only imagine how hard it was for him to accept his body simply wouldn’t let him do what he wanted.
“I’m sort of between gigs right now,” Tucker said, taking a page out of Coach’s book, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m in the market for some sweat and hard work. Maybe I could pitch in around here to help her out.”
Coach gave him an appreciative smile. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you boys came back.” The older man’s voice grew thick with emotion.
Tucker leaned closer, letting himself say things he should have said years earlier. Ever since learning of Coach’s heart attack, Tucker realized he’d almost missed out on the chance to tell the man what a huge impact he’d made in his life. “I owe you so much, Coach. Everything. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if you hadn’t handed me that football and taught me the game.”
Coach tried to shrug off his comments, to say he hadn’t done that much, but Tucker wouldn’t let him get away with it.
“When my mom died,” Tucker swallowed heavily. He hadn’t talked about that night in a long time. “I don’t think I would have survived if it hadn’t been for you and Lela.”
“Your mother was a fine woman, Tucker.”
Tucker smiled, grateful for the compliment. He’d loved his mother and there wasn’t a day that passed when he didn’t think about her, miss her. Sometimes he thought she was the only person in his life who’d ever really understood him. Because she lived in that house too. “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your help. You got me out of this town. Away from…”
Tucker didn’t bother to finish the sentence. They both knew how it ended.
He was surprised by Coach’s harsh, almost angry reply. “I didn’t teach you the game so you could use it as an escape. Courage means standing up, Tucker. Not running away.”
Tucker felt the need to defend himself. “I stood up to him. Right after my mother’s funeral—”
Coach’s voice softened. “Throwing a punch doesn’t count, Tuck.”
Tucker ran a hand through his hair. He knew that. Knew the second his father hit the floor he’d done no more than stoop to the drunken man’s level. He’d actually been ashamed of himself. Then that shame turned to a burning anger that hadn’t left him. Not once in twelve years.
Coach sat up straighter, his expression one of concern. “Your father is still around, you know?”
“I know.”
“You got a game plan?”
Tucker didn’t. He’d flown to Quinn without putting much thought into the repercussions. His only goal had been to see Coach, to make sure he was okay.
Then Tucker mentally chastised himself. Coach hadn’t been the only person to bring him back.
Lela.
“Twelve years is
a long time to sit on unfinished business.”
Tucker nodded. It was clear Coach understood Tucker better than he did himself. It had been too damn long. If he accomplished nothing else while he was home, he knew he needed to put some sort of ending to the Lela and dear old Dad chapters.
“Yeah. It’s too long.” Problem was, Tucker couldn’t see how the things he’d let fester for so long could end any differently. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed away. He’d never forgive his father. And Lela would never forgive him.
It appeared Coach could read his emotions as well as ever. He’d never failed to see when Tucker was losing his cool in a game or getting rattled. And he always found a way to help him rein in those feelings.
Coach began filling him in on how the ranch operated these days. Despite all the new technology, it seemed his coach was old school. He listed some of the tasks that needed to be done daily, many the same ones Tucker had performed during his summers on the ranch.
Tucker’s former teammates had returned to Quinn as well and would be pitching in to help. Tucker was looking forward to seeing them again. It would be great to reconnect with Wade, Jackson, Carter and Colt. They’d been some of the best friends Tucker had ever had. They shared a past. A legacy.
State champions. Tucker couldn’t remember any victory—not in college or the NFL—that was sweeter than walking off that high school football field with the state trophy in his hands. He’d always thought the only thing better would be winning the Super Bowl.
His heart lurched, a quick, sharp pain that pricked anytime he thought about the Super Bowl. Some dreams were impossible to let go of.
Tucker pulled himself out of his thoughts when he realized the room had gone quiet. He grinned when he saw Coach dozing on the couch. The man had talked himself to sleep.
Tucker quietly rose and left the room, careful not to rouse the poor man. He needed his rest. The two of them would have plenty of time over the next couple of weeks to catch up.
He stepped back out into the Texas sunshine, and then froze.
Lela was standing beside his rental, admiring the sleek Camaro convertible, dark sunglasses hiding her pretty brown eyes.
She lifted them, the frames becoming a makeshift headband, when she saw him on the porch. “I wondered whose car this was.”
He grinned, descending the stairs. He didn’t stop until he was standing directly in front of her, too close for casual politeness. There was some perverse part of him that wanted to see if she still smelled as good as she used to, if she still used that coconut shampoo in her hair. He’d woken up more nights than he cared to admit, the memory of that scent haunting him.
Unfortunately, Lela took a big step back. That move gave him pause momentarily.
Then some devil lurking inside prodded him to challenge her, to decrease the distance between them again.
Lela started to counter that move with yet another step, but he caught her hands, held her in place. And then, God bless America, he caught a whiff of that sweet smell.
She tried to tug her hands from his, narrowing her eyes in warning. He ignored her unspoken admonition.
Tucker released one hand easily, but kept a firm grip on the other as he gestured to his car. “Wanna go for a ride? We can put the top down.”
Tucker had played out this scene between them a million times in the past, always imagining what he’d say if he ever saw her again. He’d always begun with an apology and some lame explanation, but he couldn’t find those words now. He owed them to her, but he would be damned if he’d fill this reunion with past mistakes. He’d missed her.
She glanced longingly at the car. Lela had always admired convertibles. If he were being honest with himself, he would admit it was what had prompted him to rent this particular car.
She shook her head, though he felt hopeful when her rejection wasn’t immediate. She’d actually considered going with him. “No. I’m here to check on Coach.”
Tucker looked back toward the house. It was still and quiet. “He’s in the living room, but he’s asleep.”
“Oh.” Lela fidgeted, clearly searching for some other reason to escape him. He refused to make it easy on her.
“So why don’t we let the guy get some rest? We’ll go for that ride and you can visit him afterwards.”
“I’m afraid I…have…to…” She was searching for an excuse. And doing a terrible job at it.
He smirked. “You still suck at lying, L.B.”
She shot him a dirty look. “Did you ever consider that I don’t want to hang out with you and I’m looking for an acceptable reason, so that I don’t hurt your feelings?”
He shook his head. “Nope. That thought never occurred to me. Because you’re dying to go for a ride.”
She rolled her eyes and started to walk away from him. “You cocky son of a b—”
Tucker had no idea what prompted his next move. Maybe it was because she was trying to get away. Or the adorable exasperation on her face. Or that damn smell that had his cock going hard in an instant.
Whatever it was, it had his hands on her upper arms, twisting her around to him, cutting off her words with hard, hungry lips.
Lela was motionless for several seconds. Tucker used her shock against her as he deepened the kiss. Her mouth had been open and he’d taken advantage of that fact, pressing his tongue against hers.
When she did move, Tucker tightened his grip and planted his feet to prepare, ready to halt her flight. But she didn’t shove him away. Didn’t turn her face away from his, didn’t slap him for his forwardness.
Instead, she responded. Her lips softened and her tongue met his.
It was her turn to claim the advantage. She lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck, her firm breasts pressed against his chest. Tucker released her arms, his hands dropping to her waist. He needed to touch her skin. He hadn’t lived like a monk, hadn’t resisted the perks associated with being a star quarterback. It wasn’t unusual for beautiful women to invite him to their beds and he’d taken more than a few of them up on the offer.
He’d ventured into sex clubs and given in to dominant urges he’d never shown Lela when they’d been younger. He’d tied women up, down and sideways, but nothing, not one damn kinky, hot, sex-filled night, had turned him on more than this relatively simple kiss from Lela.
His hands drifted under her shirt. She shivered slightly when his fingers grazed her soft skin, despite the scorching heat.
Lela ran her hands through his hair before she closed her fingers in the strands, tugging it harder, using her grip to increase the pressure of the kiss.
Tucker didn’t try to escape, didn’t acknowledge the prickling pain in his scalp. There was a new roughness, an impassioned hunger to Lela’s response. It spoke to Tucker’s own needs.
With his hands on her hips, he twisted them, lightly pushing her back against the side of the car, stepping closer. He pressed his cock against her, letting her feel how hard he was, how much he wanted her. She whimpered, but didn’t seek to break the union of their mouths.
Tucker was vaguely aware of their surroundings. They were in the front yard of a fairly busy ranch. Anyone and everyone could be watching them, but Tucker couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit.
Besides, Lela was too pragmatic. Common sense was going to raise its ugly head soon enough and she’d definitely shove him away. Until then he had to make sure to leave a lasting impression. Take care to ensure this encounter wasn’t something she’d soon forget.
His hands still lingered beneath her shirt. Lifting them, he wasted no time cupping her full breasts. He squeezed the flesh firmly, loving the way Lela moved toward the touch, encouraging him to continue.
They’d been virgins the first time they’d come together. Tucker had been so much bigger than her and he’d been terrified of hurting her. That fear had never left his young man’s heart, so their sexual history had been steeped in gentleness and slow, easy lovemaking.
This older
version of Lela was stronger, self-confident, sexy. Tucker couldn’t offer her softness if his life depended on it. Instead, he felt the intense need to conquer. To prove to her she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. To take her in all the ways he’d dreamed of on those lonely nights when he gave in and let himself fantasize about her.
She’d been the face he’d seen every time he’d closed his eyes, wrapped his hand around his cock and brought himself to climax. He’d envisioned her on her knees before him, her hands tied behind her back, sometimes blindfolded, sometimes not. She’d open her mouth upon his command and…
Tucker forced the sexy thoughts from his head before he really did do something neither of them was ready for.
Then, the devil inside pushed his way to the forefront again and Tucker pinched her nipples, letting the lacy material of her bra add to the pleasure-pain of the sensation.
Lela moaned, a throaty sound that demanded he give her more. He responded, then jerked slightly when she slipped her hands into the back pockets of his jeans, squeezing his ass cheeks roughly and using that grip to press his cock more firmly against her.
“You do realize my father is less than fifty yards away with a very clear view of all of this?”
Lela’s hands disappeared instantly at the sound of Lorelie’s voice. She ducked under his arm, desperate to put distance between them. Tucker found it more difficult to move. His dick was full to bursting and any sudden movements had the potential to maim him for life.
He rested his palms against the car door and took several long, deep breaths, trying to will away the painful erection. He was going to suffer the worst case of blue balls in history after this encounter.
It took several moments for him to realize that Lela wasn’t fairing much better. She leaned against the hood, only a few feet away from him. Her cheeks were flaming, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He’d expected to see anger and accusation in her gaze. Instead he was met with the same confusion and shock he was experiencing.