Love Me Like I Love You

by Willow Winters

  Gray was drinking from a water bottle when he saw me. His eyes narrowed, and I felt once again frozen in place as if he had a freeze ray stare. He swallowed, wiped his chin with the back of his hand and smiled. With a little bob of his head as hello, he held up one finger. He didn’t look away until I nodded back.

  “Jesus, Em,” Simon whispered. Yeah, he didn’t have to say anything more for me to know what he meant.

  While Gray talked with other players, Simon leaned in and said, “You can bring me to watch anytime.” I glanced up, and he waggled his eyebrows. I grinned. Not having a boyfriend at the moment, Simon was no doubt checking out the possibilities, but I was only interested in Gray.

  A minute later, Gray walked over to us, a teammate with him. Although he'd looked pretty darn fine the other night, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, sweaty and dirty, he looked downright sexy. Rugged and manly. This was his element. His chest and shoulders were clearly delineated, his biceps thick and bulging, his thighs and calves well defined. Everything about him was powerful, and the way he watched me now was seriously intense. I licked my lips and saw his eyes drop to follow the action.

  Simon and I stood as they got closer.

  “Hi,” he said, stopping directly before me. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “I just so happened to be in the park.” I swiped my hand through the air. “Big coincidence.”

  He gave a quick laugh, reminded by what he’d said on Friday night. It felt good, really good, to make him laugh. For once, I said something right. He angled his head. “This is my friend Rob.”

  “Everyone calls me Thor,” the other man added, his voice deep. He held up his hands. “I’d shake your hand, but you probably would rather not.” Streaks of mud and sweat covered his palms.

  I could see why he got the nickname. He had two inches on Gray, making him a giant. Football linebacker big. Hot dog eating contest winner huge. Dark hair, dark eyes, square jaw, goatee.

  “I like your team spirit,” he added. “Looks better on her than us, don’t you think, Gray?”

  I frowned, confused. He pointed to my tank top. Glancing down, I realized my shirt was also black-and-white stripe.

  “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be accused of rooting for the other team,” I countered with a smile then shrugged as if it were no big deal. “This is my neighbor, Simon.”

  Simon shook Gray’s hand and nodded at Thor.

  “Hey, wow. I didn’t recognize you at first, but it’s a pleasure,” Simon gushed, practically ogling Gray. “How are you enjoying retirement?”

  Simon knew Gray? Brant Valley was a pretty big town, so what were the chances?

  Gray glanced at me as he answered. “Getting better every day. Everyone usually goes to the bar down the street after the game for some burgers. Want to join us?”

  Simon looked to me to answer. He was waiting for me to decide if he was still needed or not. Since he and Gray seemed to know each other, he’d probably want to tag along, but he seemed to have the wingman thing down. He gave me a little head nod, and I knew he was giving his personal green light on Gray.

  This was it, the moment between a life of normal and a life of… God, I could only imagine. “I’d like to go, but Simon has something to do.”

  Simon smiled broadly, clearly thrilled I was content to not need him to tag along. If I'd said otherwise, Gray would blatantly know Simon was sticking around for me, and that would only be more embarrassing. Besides, it would make Gray think I thought he was a letch or something, and I needed a chaperone, which was the farthest thing from the truth.

  “Yeah, I have plans,” Simon said, but no doubt, everyone knew he was lying through his teeth. “Another time, however. Definitely.” He turned to me. “Do you want me to take your car?”

  I paused. “Oh, um. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I’ll drive you home later,” Gray offered.

  Simon raised a brow, waiting. Pulling my keys from my little purse that I had slung cross-shoulder, he took them, gave me a wink, then grabbed the blanket and cooler.

  “Thanks, Simon,” I called out as he left.

  He spun and replied as he walked backward. “Anytime.” He gave a little salute and turned.

  Gray watched me closely, silently.

  “I’ll have to catch up with you,” Thor told us. “My wife’s going to kill me if I don’t get home. Kids,” he added, as if that clarified everything.

  “How old are they?” I asked. This was a topic I was familiar and comfortable with.

  “Four and six. Boys.”

  I nodded, a little wistful. It was at rare moments when I longed to see my son, to hear his voice, even to have him little again. “I remember that age. It’s hard.”

  Gray looked to me, his face neutral. “You have kids?”

  I nodded. “Yes, a son.”

  By his look, I couldn’t tell if he was okay with this or not. Some men wanted a woman with no strings attached, and a child was a big string. A guy with kid issues was an obvious deal breaker for me. Chris might be in college, but he wasn’t going anywhere. This wasn’t a real date, so it wasn’t as if Gray was going to end it. It hadn’t even started.

  Thor gave me the look of a suffering parent. “Then you can understand.” He ran his hand through his goatee. “The babysitter comes in an hour, so Laura can join us at the bar. A few hours of just grownups.”

  “I’m past the babysitting stage now,” I shared. “Some things get easier.”

  His smile slipped and looked as if I’d kicked his puppy. “Only some things?”

  I laughed at the forlorn look on such a brute of a man. “Only some things.”

  “How old is your son?” Gray asked.

  “Eighteen.”

  Both men stared at me, stunned. Thor's mouth even dropped open.

  “Eighteen? Holy hell, woman,” Thor said. “You were just a baby when you had him. Is he a senior this year? Can he babysit?” His look changed to eagerness at the idea of a possible babysitter.

  “I was twenty, so not much of a baby. And no, he’s in college.”

  “They actually leave the house?” Thor sounded very eager for the idea. Toddlers were insane and exhausting, and he was probably questioning his reasons for having them in the first place right about now.

  I patted him reassuringly on his sweaty arm, the muscle beneath my palm rock hard. “They do, but it’s hard now that he’s gone. My job is done.” I tried to keep my voice light, but I’m sure it sounded wistful.

  “Where does he go to school?” Gray questioned.

  “Naval Academy.”

  “Very impressive,” Thor added. “You must be really proud of him. Look, I’ve got to go, or Laura will bury me in the backyard. I’ll catch up with you guys later?”

  Both Gray and I nodded, and Thor jogged off.

  People were packing up and leaving, the two of us almost the only ones left on the field from the game. “So…” I let the word hang as I glanced up at him, unsure of myself, of standing in the middle of an empty field with him. Had it been a bad idea to come after all? “Do…do you still want me to go with you?”

  He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I looked down at my bright pink toenails, swiped my foot over the blades of grass. “I’m a mother.”

  Leaning down, he looked me in the eye, and I had to meet his steady gaze. “From what I gather, a pretty good one.”

  The compliment made me smile although somewhat shyly. I had to know where he stood because I could walk away now with only a dent in my pride. I knew if I spent much time with him, there was a chance I could be truly hurt. “That’s not going to change. Being a mother, I mean. Does that bother you?”

  “If you said you had a five-year-old, it might. Not because of the reasons you think.”

  I lifted my chin, waiting. I’d wanted honesty.

  “I had a shi—bad childhood, and I’m not a good bet for little kids. I’d break them or damage them mentally. Something. But if your
boy is at the Naval Academy, he sounds more like a man to me. I doubt I can ruin someone that old.”

  Those weren’t the words I expected. Too much baggage, too much effort for someone else’s kids, perhaps. Lots of possibilities. But I never thought he'd say he was flawed, damaged enough that he wasn’t worthy. To me, from the little bit I knew about him, that didn’t seem possible.

  The conversation had gotten heavy pretty fast, so I just nodded and moved on. “You can say swear words. I promise I won’t make you wash your mouth out.”

  He grinned. “I’ll try, but I’m a country boy at heart.”

  “Just don’t ma’am me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I laughed, as he’d probably wanted, and I changed the subject. “I didn’t know you and Simon knew each other. From where?”

  He looked at me suspiciously. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  I felt like I was missing the punch line of a joke. “Know what?” Then it came to me. Oh shit. I backed up a step, realizing my gaffe and pasted on a fake smile. “Oh. You’re gay. Why didn’t you tell me you were gay? It doesn’t bother me, if you were afraid to tell me. I mean—”

  “Emory,” he cut in, shaking his head, hand up. I think he actually rolled his eyes at me. “I’m not gay.”

  I sighed in relief. Not that I cared if he was gay, but I didn’t want him to be gay. I wanted him to like women, preferably me.

  “I’ve never met Simon before, but he knows me. Knows of me. I’m well known in the MMA community.” When I frowned once again, he added, “That’s Mixed Martial Arts. I’m sure you’ve seen it before on TV or a commercial or something. I did that professionally a while ago and won some big fights. I’ve retired from fighting now.”

  I cocked my head and looked at him, thinking maybe I’d recognize him or something, but I didn’t follow the fight scene, and I would have remembered him before. “Are you saying you’re famous?”

  He ran his hand over the back of his neck. Clearly being famous wasn’t something he wanted to share with me. “Sort of, but not that famous if you haven’t heard of me.”

  “I don’t even know your last name.”

  “Green. Grayson Green. But everyone knows me as The Outlaw.”

  I frowned. “The Outlaw? Not The Cowboy?” I looked him over. He wasn’t wearing that sexy snap shirt today but still. Damn fine in shorts and t-shirt. “That would totally work.”

  He shook his head. “That name’s already been taken.”

  “Grayson Green, The Outlaw. Yeah, never heard of you.” I grinned, but it slipped. “Does it bother you that I didn’t recognize you?” Had I hurt his feelings? I fiddled with the leather strap of my purse. I’d never met a famous person before.

  “Hell, no.” His vehemence had me looking up at him. “I’m glad actually. A lot of people try to get close to me because of what I did not who I am.”

  I bit my lip and thought about how that must feel. “That must be pretty annoying.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You have no idea.”

  I didn’t know much about him but definitely wanted to know more. “So. About that lunch? I’m starved.”

  It was Gray’s turn to grin. “I still want to have lunch with a woman who has a kid, and you still want to have lunch with a famous guy.”

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  Something flared in his eyes, bright and hot. “I’d like for you to be within five feet of me today, maybe even hold your hand again, so I need to shower. I stink.” He tugged at the front of his sweaty T-shirt. “Would you mind if we stopped at my gym, so I can get cleaned up first?”

  Chapter 6

  GRAY

  Holy shit. The woman had a son. A grown son who went to the Naval Academy, which was one of the hardest schools to get into in the country, which meant the kid was fucking smart. Not only that, the kid was willing to dedicate his life to the service of the country. This wasn’t some kid with an undecided major joining a fraternity at a state school, so he could party his four years away. Emory had made a man. A man who was most likely going to go off to war. She was here, calm as could be, knowing that could easily be in his future. I knew what it was like to be the kid on deployment, but I’d never thought of it from a mother’s perspective. She was fucking brave, and that had me admiring her so much. I’d be shitting a brick if my child broke a finger, let alone shipped off to some desert battle.

  I’d joined the Marines right out of high school to escape my father, the ranch and the hell he’d made my life and did enough tours to see evil and knew what her son would see—and live—firsthand. How it changed you. Scarred you. Made you hard. Because of this, but especially my dad, I’d learned how to fight well enough—and started at a young age—to become a professional when I got out. Won world championships. Built an empire around my name. Then, retiring, I used all that to build a gym of my own, to create new champions. I’d done a lot, accomplished a lot. Was famous for it. Made a shitload of money. Still did from fighters and sponsors. But that was fuck-all compared to what Emory had done, and for part of it, it seemed, alone. And she was worried I’d not be interested in her? The opposite in fact. My interest in her only grew. The question was, when would she realize I was just The Outlaw, a fuck-up from a ranch in Wyoming, and decide to walk away?

  I opened the truck door for her, admiring her long, tanned legs as she slid into the seat. Once the engine was on, I rolled down the windows. “Might be better with a little fresh air, so I don’t scare you off. I’m pretty ripe.” I picked a blade of grass off my dirty shirt and tossed it out the window.

  She looked me up and down in a way that had me shifting in my seat. It wasn’t blatant, but she’d scoped me out, and I couldn’t tell if her cheeks were pink from being caught or from the heat of the car.

  “Flag football, huh? I pictured you more on the back of a bull or something.”

  I grinned. “Picked up that I was a cowboy, huh?”

  “Snap shirts don’t lie,” she replied with a smile.

  I’d grown up on a ranch in Wyoming, one of the biggest in the state, but I never wanted to step foot on the property again. My job, my life, was in Brant Valley now, but I had my ranch, my own land to go to whenever I needed to get away from it all. I could work the land, fix fences, do cowboy shit all fucking day long if I wanted. Without the nightmare of my dad.

  “I can ride a horse, but I prefer to stay on it,” I replied instead of sharing all that. “As for flag football, it’s fun.” I looked over my shoulder and pulled out into traffic.

  “I’m an expert on soccer, basketball and track, not so much football.”

  “Your son?”

  “Yes. His name is Chris. Sorry, I don’t mean to talk about him.” She tucked a curl behind her ear as the wind picked up.

  I stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. Even with the windows open, I could pick up her scent. Something flowery or fruity, maybe coconut. Shampoo? Whatever the hell it was, it was going to drive me insane when I switched to air conditioning. I just hoped she didn’t smell me just as easily. “Why? He’s your son.”

  “Yeah, but most guys aren’t interested in hearing about kids.”

  I gripped the wheel. “Now you’re hurting my feelings. I’m not most guys, Emory.”

  Even with the heat, I could see her blush this time. She bit her lip but met my gaze. “Wow, you’re right. I’m sorry.” I saw her throat work as she swallowed. “I told you I wasn’t good at this. It’s been a long time… a really long time.”

  “How long is really long?” Six months? A year?

  “I was nineteen when I dated Jack, my ex. I got pregnant and then got married quick. Since the divorce, I've gone on a few—two—blind dates, and they were bad.” The way she said the last led me to believe they'd turned her off dating entirely. “It's safe to say I haven't really dated in this century.”

  Holy shit. How long had it been then? No guy had claimed her since her divorce? Jesus, what was wrong with the guys in t
his town? Hopefully, their fuck up was my gain.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with a guy, so I’m probably going to mess up a lot. I’m giving you advanced warning, but you probably already knew that from the other night.”

  She wasn’t a virgin, but she might as well have been because she was so damn innocent, so… sweet that it was fucking incredible. She wasn’t playing games because she didn’t even know how. That meant it was my job to put her at ease and make her feel safe in her time with me. Safe just to be Emory and nothing else. No guile, no angles.

  I gave a small head shake. “You aren’t supposed to do anything except sit there looking so damn pretty and talk to me. Okay?” The light switched to green, and I shifted into gear. “How about you tell me about your job.”

  She looked at me for a long moment then leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed. “I’m a nurse practitioner. I work in the ER.”

  “Impressive. That must be pretty intense.”

  “I just started there in the spring after working in hospital administration for years. It had a better schedule for dealing with a high schooler. I’d rather be hands on, though, with patients, so the ER is definitely the place to be now that he’s away at school.”

  “Brant Valley’s got some rough edges. I’m sure you’ve seen some bad stuff.” I paused, drummed my fingers on the wheel, thinking of the shit she saw on a daily basis. It wasn’t the most dangerous city in the country, but hell, every town in America had crime. Drugs. Wife beaters. “That’s why you wouldn’t drink the water I gave you.”

  “See, I’m not actually that crazy. I’m just experienced.” She covered her face with her hands, groaned. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that.”

  I grinned at her slip. She was so damn sweet. “That’s good to know.”