Free Agent-ARE-mobi

by Mari Carr

  Lela found her voice first. “I’m so sorry, Lorelie. I don’t know what…”

  Lorelie laughed. “Twelve years didn’t do a damn thing to put out the fire that always blazed between you two. That was fucking hot. I’m probably going to have to go a few rounds with my vibrator later. Better than watching porn.”

  Tucker turned, shaking his head. Lorelie had never had a filter, always saying exactly what she thought and felt, no matter how inappropriate.

  Lela covered her mouth, though her laughter escaped anyway. “God, Lorelie.”

  He was relieved to see she could find some humor in this situation, that she wasn’t freaking out or giving him hell.

  “Well, I guess I’ll let you two sort out whatever the hell that was. I’m going inside for some lemonade.” Lorelie looked at Lela. “Feel free to join me in a little while if you want to.”

  Tucker didn’t have to be a woman to know Lorelie was dying to question her friend about what had just happened. Tucker wouldn’t mind hearing Lela’s thoughts on the subject either. Then he thought it was probably better if he didn’t know.

  Lorelie left them alone.

  “Tucker.” The resigned tone in her voice told him everything he needed to know in one word. She was going to brush it all off, pretend it didn’t mean anything.

  His temper flared. It damn well meant something to him. He raised his hand. “No. We’re not discussing it.”

  Her brow creased. “What?”

  “I’m not interested in analyzing what just happened or picking it apart.”

  “But—”

  “No, Lela. I mean it. Neither one of us knows what that fucking was. It’s too soon to try to reason it out or dismiss it.”

  She bit her lower lip, drawing his attention to how kiss-swollen they were. “Okay.”

  He hadn’t expected her easy capitulation. It soothed him to know she was as staggered as he was.

  “I’m sticking around for a couple of weeks.” He wanted her to know this wasn’t going to go away. Not easily anyway. Then before he could consider it, he added, “Maybe even longer than that.”

  She nodded. “Okay,” she repeated.

  He reached for the door handle, every instinct in his body demanding that he kiss her once more. But if he started again, he wouldn’t be able to stop, no matter who was watching.

  Lela took a few steps away from the car as he opened the door. He turned to look at her. “This isn’t over, Lela.”

  She didn’t wince, didn’t deny it. Instead she held his gaze and said, “I know it’s not.”

  He forced himself to get in the car and though it killed him to do it again, he drove away from her.

  This time, however, he was definitely coming back.

  Chapter Three

  Lela stood at the edge of the small dance floor at Pitchers, staring at the gyrating bodies without seeing them. Lorelie had gone to the bar to grab them a couple of beers, insisting they needed some serious girl time. Against her better judgment, Lela had let herself be dragged along even though this was the last place she wanted to be.

  She’d much preferred the state she’d been in a few hours ago, bra-less in sweat shorts and a t-shirt, curled up on her couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia in hand.

  The past week had been rough. She still wasn’t sure what had possessed her to sort of sexually attack Tucker in the front yard of Coach’s house. She’d tried to blame it on her distraught state. That same morning, she’d broken things off with Carl.

  She had expected it to be an amiable, easy split. The relationship had been quite staid and uneventful, so she’d been unprepared for Carl’s uncharacteristic show of emotion. He’d jumped from anger to pleading to utter devastation then right back to completely pissed off. She’d been floored by the sheer magnitude, the melodramatic way he’d responded. Where had that passion been when they were dating?

  Regardless, she’d stuck to her guns, helped him gather the few things he had stashed at her house—a toothbrush, razor, change of clothes—asked for her key back, then watched him peal out of her driveway, spinning tires and kicking gravel against her garage door.

  Then she’d gone to visit Coach and freaking lost her mind with Tucker. Since then, she’d been a complete basket case. She’d cleaned her house and her classroom like a woman possessed and when she’d run out of stuff to throw away, organize or alphabetize, she’d hit the grocery store, stocked up on wine and ice cream and hit the couch.

  That was where Lorelie had found her this afternoon. The only thing that had offered her even the slightest bit of consolation was Lorelie’s news that Tucker seemed to be just as off-kilter as she was. Apparently, he’d spent the last seven days working like a man possessed, repairing broken fencing, repainting the barn, and putting a nail in every creaking floorboard in Coach’s house. Lorelie swore the place had never looked better.

  “Earth to Lela.”

  She blinked, and then realized Lorelie was standing in front of her, holding out a beer. She hastily took it from her with a quick word of thanks.

  “You’re going to have to step it up,” Lorelie said. “You’re killing my buzz.”

  Lela laughed. “I warned you about that before we left the house. Told you you’d have more fun with Paige or Hollie. You still made me come.”

  Lorelie shrugged. “I refuse to believe you were sitting in that house nursing a broken heart over Carl. Which means you were really only hiding.”

  “From?” Lela should have known better than to ask.

  Lorelie didn’t mince words. “From that hot stud of an NFL quarterback. And believe me, I don’t blame you for thinking twice before taking on that freaking perfect specimen of a man. A man shouldn’t be prettier than a woman, but damn, he looks fine. I’d be sincerely intimidated to take my clothes off in front of a guy who looks like he jumped right off the Photoshopped page of a men’s magazine. I swear to God you can bounce quarters off that guy’s ass. He was wearing these tight jeans today and I—”

  Lela lifted her hand to cut her friend off. “Spare me the description. Please.” She didn’t need the visual. She’d spent too many hours over the past week recalling exactly how good that firm, muscular ass had felt in her hands.

  Lorelie was right. Lela hadn’t been nursing a broken heart. Instead, she’d thought of nothing but the feeling of Tucker’s lips on hers.

  How long had it been since she’d tasted that kind of desire?

  She knew the answer. Never. Not even in her previous experience with Tucker had she felt that intense, breath-stealing, heart-throbbing, pussy-clenching need to rip off a man’s clothes, toss him to the ground, straddle his hips and ride him until they broke bones. She wanted him with a hunger that bordered on painful and with a need that was nothing short of pure insanity.

  She was a woman spiraling out of control with no desire to leave the chaos.

  The problem was, Lela wasn’t so sure Tucker was the right man for her any more than Carl had been. Their situation hadn’t changed at all in twelve years.

  They’d always set off sparks whenever they were within a fifty-yard radius of each other, but the reality was, he was in the NFL and she was a Quinn girl through and through. This was her home. She loved her friends, her job, her little house by the lake and her life.

  “Uh-oh,” Lorelie muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” Lela looked toward the entrance to see what Lorelie had spotted, then she blew out a long breath. “Damn.”

  Carl was walking into the bar with a few of his coworkers.

  It was times like this when she wished her beloved hometown were bigger.

  “We’re not leaving.” Lorelie’s voice was resolute.

  “Lorelie,” Lela said, hoping to convince her friend to see reason.

  “There are a million people in here. We’ll just give him a wide berth. I mean, you were going to run into him sooner or later. Might as well get this awkwardness over with.”

  Lorelie had a point. It d
idn’t matter when they did this initial run-in. It was going to be uncomfortable. At least here, it was too loud and crowded to have much of a conversation. She could just wave, say hi and then get swallowed up in the throng once more.

  She took a sip of her beer. Two local firefighters came over to ask them to dance. Lorelie jumped at the chance, tugging Lela onto the floor with her. It was an easy, fast-paced line dance and by the middle of the song, Lela was laughing, enjoying herself.

  One dance turned into two and then into three. Lela’s face was flushed from the heat, the nape of her neck growing damp with sweat from the workout. She was just about to excuse herself to step outside for some air when the music changed, the band playing a slow country song.

  Perfect timing for an escape.

  She pointed to the door over her shoulder as Lorelie nodded and partnered up with one of the firemen. The other guy accepted her departure, asking a cute little blonde near them to dance.

  Lela turned, then found her nose pressed against a brick wall of a chest. A very familiar wall. She glanced up.

  Tucker didn’t ask her if she wanted to dance. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and started swaying. She didn’t take him to task or even try to leave.

  One of these damn days, she was going to have to find some semblance of self-restraint.

  He pressed his face against the top of her head. “You smell good.”

  She grinned, calling him on his lie. “I’m hot and sweaty.”

  “My favorite scent on a woman.”

  Just like that, her body went into overdrive. Her pussy fluttered, her nipples tightened and that same familiar ache she’d felt since he’d kissed her at the ranch reappeared. She’d never experienced such a simple—and terrifying—need. Basically she felt as though she needed to fuck this man or die.

  “Tucker.” She started to pull away. Lela needed to put some distance between them, hoping she could think rationally if he wasn’t touching her.

  He tugged her tighter to him, the pure, unassailable strength of his embrace turning her on even more.

  “It’s just a dance, L.B.”

  She lifted her face, capturing his gaze. “Liar,” she whispered, the word disappearing in the noise of the music. He read her lips and gave her a crooked grin.

  At that point, she simply let go. She rested her cheek against his chest and disappeared into the moment, enjoying the music, the dim lighting, the heat and his masculine scent.

  Nothing else existed. They didn’t have a past or a future. Just this place. This time.

  She didn’t realize the song had changed, another fast line dance starting up, until Tucker’s grip loosened.

  Lela accepted the hand he proffered and let him lead her to a corner table where Joel and Oakley were sitting.

  “Look who I found.” Tucker gestured for her to slide into the circular booth, then he followed her. She shot him a warning look when he plastered himself to her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He ignored her when she tried to put some distance between them. Of course.

  “Hey, Lela. Been meaning to call you about your lawn mower. It’s just with all the stuff happening with Coach…”

  Lela waved off Joel’s comment. At the beginning of the summer, her fairly new mower had gone kaput. “Don’t give it another thought, Joel. I know you’ve been busy. My grass isn’t going anywhere,” she said with a laugh.

  “You need a handyman?” Tucker asked. “I took the same Small Engines class as Joel in high school, remember? I could come take a look at it.”

  She shook her head. The last thing she needed was Tucker anywhere near her house…or her bed. “That’s okay. I know you’re helping out at the ranch too. Coach needs you guys way more than I do.”

  Tucker looked as if he wanted to argue that point, but mercifully a waitress stopped by to take their order.

  “What’s your poison?” Tucker asked her.

  Lela smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have a Miller Lite, Denise.”

  Tucker crinkled his nose. “Miller Lite? Seriously?”

  “Mind your own business,” she teased.

  “I’ll just have a water,” Tucker said before Oakley and Joel added their own drink orders.

  “Water?” Lela asked after Denise left.

  It took Tucker a second to respond. When he did, she knew he wasn’t telling her the truth. “Preseason conditioning. No alcohol.”

  “There you are. I thought you skipped out on me, Lela.” Lorelie bumped Joel’s hip, forcing him to scoot over and make room for her in the already crowded booth.

  “I wouldn’t leave without telling you.”

  Lorelie narrowed her eyes. “Of course you would. It’s the only way you’d be able to escape, and since I had to drag you out tonight to begin with—”

  “Drag you?” Tucker interjected.

  Lela shrugged. “I wasn’t in the mood.”

  “She dumped her boyfriend,” Lorelie added.

  Lela was tempted to kick her best friend under the table, but she was fairly certain she would hit the wrong leg. The booth was only made to sit four people comfortably and the men surrounding her weren’t exactly small guys.

  Tucker turned to her, his voice lower when he spoke. The loud music helped hide his question from the others at the table. “When did you break up with him?”

  No doubt the cocky man thought she’d called things off with Carl after their kiss. She gave him a grin. “Two hours before the last time I saw you.”

  “Before, huh?”

  She didn’t bother to reply. In truth, she wasn’t sure what to say. Did Tucker think her actions at the ranch were simply a knee-jerk rebound response? Or did he think she’d left Carl for him?

  Neither was true.

  Or…now that she considered it…both were actually true.

  She should have stayed on the couch.

  The band started playing Day Drinking and Lorelie yelled loudly. “Oh my God! I love this song.” She grabbed Joel’s hand to pull him out of the booth. “Come on. You and Oakley have to dance with me.”

  “Is this even a song you can dance to?” Joel asked as he stood up. His question was clearly rhetorical. Neither man bothered to refuse. They worked with Lorelie all day, every day at the ranch. They knew her well enough to know resistance was futile.

  Lela tried to take advantage of the extra space and started to scoot over. Tucker’s grip on her shoulder prevented that maneuver. “Tucker. You’re going to have to stop manhandling me.”

  “Why?”

  She gave him a dirty look. “Because it’s annoying.”

  He laughed loudly. “No, it’s not.”

  “Were you always this arrogant?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.” When he flashed her an of-course-I-was-how-could-you-forget-that look, she giggled. God, she hadn’t giggled like that since high school.

  Smugly, she said, “You’re right. You were. No wonder I dumped you.”

  His grin faded. “Is that how you remember things going down?”

  She’d meant her comment to be playful, but she’d missed the mark by about a mile. “I was just teasing.”

  She hoped he’d let that conversation die there. Lela wasn’t ready to rehash those painful days with him. She was feeling too raw from his return.

  He lifted his hand from her shoulder, picking up a strand of her hair and running his fingers through it. “Your hair is still soft.” He leaned closer, breathing in her scent before whispering, “Coconut. Always loved that smell.”

  Lela’s heart began to beat a little bit harder, the air in the room growing thick. It would be so easy to simply turn her face to his, cup his cheek in her hand and kiss him.

  But those memories of the past she’d managed to bury on the dance floor weren’t staying down. They were sprouting up like ugly weeds. Letting herself get swept away in this, giving in to these sexual desires, would do nothing more than leave her with another bruise on her heart when he left again.

  “Tucke
r. I don’t think—”

  “Well. Isn’t this cozy?”

  Lela looked up, surprised to see Carl swaying next to their table. He was clearly intoxicated—she’d never seen him drunk—and still very angry.

  “Carl? Are you okay?” she asked.

  Her ex-boyfriend practically snarled at her. “So let me see if I’ve got this straight. You dumped me the second this asshole snapped his fingers. Never pegged you for one of those shallow sluts who screw professional athletes, Lela.”

  Tucker rose, his face pure fury. If Carl hadn’t been so drunk, he would have known to back down…quick. Tucker had at least six inches on the other man and he was probably twice as wide, made of pure muscle.

  Instead, Carl clenched his fists.

  The insane man had a suicide wish.

  Lela followed Tucker out of the booth as quickly as possible, putting herself between the two men. “Carl. You’ve had too much to drink. You’d never say anything so cruel otherwise.” She hoped her words would knock some sense into him and soothe Tucker’s temper, calm him down. “The reasons I gave you for breaking things off were true. We both wanted different things from the relationship. It wasn’t fair to keep you hanging on for marriage when that wasn’t what I wanted.

  Some of the anger in Carl’s eyes faded. “I told you I didn’t need marriage, Lela.”

  “I know, but that’s not true. You want a family. Forever. Please, Carl, don’t do this here.” She could feel too many people looking at them, watching the unfolding drama, waiting to see if the NFL superstar would knock out the bank manager. From the corner of her eye, she could see a couple people holding up cell phones, no doubt hoping for some juicy video to share on YouTube.

  Carl swallowed heavily. “It’s only been a week, Lela. Was I that easy to get over?”

  Lela’s shoulders fell. It was official. She was the biggest bitch on the face of the Earth. He hadn’t been hard to get over at all because her heart had never been engaged. It never was. She’d tried to gently explain that when she’d broken things off, but it didn’t appear he’d heard her.