by Claire Adams
“Well, since I had to enter into some unspeakable alliances to get your number, I thought I’d better put it to good use.”
How was it possible for one person to be that confident? “Put it to good use how?” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for managing to sound nonchalant.
“I’m going to the beach tomorrow. I’ve been told I need to take some time to relax. I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me?
The butterflies went nuts again. “Tomorrow? I don’t know. I’m pretty busy at the moment.” I tried to play it cool, but I already knew I was going to go.
“Come on, don’t make me beg. I’ll see you there at 2.”
Well, what do you know? Maybe I’d left a lasting impression, after all.
Chapter Eleven
James
The sun burned hot on my neck as I stepped onto the beach. My eyes scanned the mostly empty stretch of sand from behind my sunglasses. I grabbed my towel and bottle of water and jogged to Gabrielle, who was already there, stretching her lithe body out on her towel and rubbing sunscreen into her skin.
“Can I give you a hand there?”
She jumped at the sound of my voice.
As incredible as she looked in casual clothes, as devastating as she was all dressed up, the sight of Gabrielle in a tiny polka dot bikini was enough to make the air get stuck in my lungs.
Gabrielle’s lips curved into a coy smile. “With what do you want to give me a hand, exactly?”
I laughed as I spread my towel next to hers, giving her a smirk. “Jeez, and you thought the football players were the ones with the lines. Judging by that, lawyers have us beat.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Aspiring, maybe-someday lawyer over here, but sure. Judge the whole profession.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’re honestly talking to me about judging a whole profession?”
“Okay, you may have a point.” She laughed and threw the bottle of sunscreen at me. “Does your offer still stand?”
I caught it in one hand and rolled over to her. “Why yes. As it happens, I’m in a forgiving mood. Just don’t let it happen again.”
Her skin was silky smooth under my fingers as I lathered her back with sunscreen. I massaged it into to her, lingering longer than was strictly necessary.
“Yeah, sure.” She groaned, sending a shock wave right to my cock. Straddling her back as I was, I had to get a hold on my libido. “I’ll be good from now on. Scout’s honor.”
Her body shook from a quick laugh, causing her ass to graze my cock. She was trying to kill me. I was sure of it. “Were you actually ever a scout?”
She snorted. “What do you think? Do I look like a good little Girl Scout to you?”
“At the risk of being accused of using a line, I could totally imagine you dressed up in the outfit. We could always role play it sometime if you wanted.” The thought of her in a Girl Scout outfit did things to me.
“You get a free pass for that one, but only because of my earlier mishap.” I lay on my back on my towel as she flipped onto hers. “So, what unspeakable alliance did you have to enter into to get my number?”
“A gentleman never tells,” I said solemnly.
“Good thing I don’t see any gentlemen around here then.” I clasped a hand over my heart, like she’d injured me.
“You’re terrible for my ego.”
She rolled onto her side and smirked. Her eyes were hidden by her sunglasses, but she seemed to be genuinely having fun. “Good thing it can afford being taken down a few notches.”
This girl. I’d only known her a week or so, but she was already one of my favorite people. I had fun with her. I hated people, in general. They were mostly too predictable. Gabrielle, on the other hand, kept surprising me. “You wound me, woman. You should kiss it better.”
She groaned. “You had one free pass, quarterback. You’re on thin ice.”
“That’s the NHL, not the NFL, actually.” I liked testing the limits on the depths of the ice, apparently.
“Wise ass.”
We lay in silence for a couple of minutes, soaking in the sun and getting lost in our own thoughts.
Eventually, she spoke out. “You’re really not going to tell me how you got my number?”
A bell tinkled in the distance, calling childhood memories to mind. “Nope. Trust me; it’s better for you this way. You want to get some ice cream?”
She lay still, her eyes covered by her sunglasses, but then she extended her arm. “I would never refuse ice cream. Help me up, would you?”
I took her tiny palm in my hand and pulled her to her feet. “A woman after my own heart. If you’d refused ice cream, I would be morally obligated to run in the other direction.”
“Consider your conscience and your moral compass safe, then.” She held onto my hand all the way to the ice cream truck.
She spent almost as much time as Harper deciding what flavor to get and added as many crazy toppings. I laughed at her indecision. It was adorable.
“Something funny?” She turned to me, tits bouncing in the tiny bikini. She hadn’t made any attempt to cover up and seemed to be completely comfortable in her own skin. It was refreshing.
I smothered my grin. “Not at all. You just reminded me of someone.”
The easygoing smile fell from her face. “Please don’t tell me it’s an ex-girlfriend or ex,” she wagged a finger between us, “whatever this is.”
“Hell no.” It was freaky enough that I’d identified a commonality between her and Harper. The last thing I needed was for Gabrielle to think that I had some ex-fuck on my mind. “It’s really not that.”
We grabbed our cones and took off along the beach. “You want to go for a walk?”
Our towels had been flipped over by the breeze by the time we reached them, but they didn’t seem in any danger of going anywhere.
“Sure, okay,” Gabrielle answered as she twisted her tongue around her ice cream cone. I was mesmerized by her tongue, curling like a kitten’s around the lucky fucking soft serve that melted into her mouth.
My cock begged to join the party, but I talked him down. Well, almost down. He was definitely aware of Gabrielle’s presence.
My fingers interlocked with hers as we walked. “Anything interesting happen to you this week? Except for, you know, becoming Mr. Skye. James Skye?”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” I didn’t really want her to. It made me feel like a superhero spy or something. Like getting her number had been me completing some sort of mission. I guess deep down inside, all men want to feel that.
“Not a chance, Mr. Skye.” She pushed her sunglasses to her forehead and wriggled her eyebrows at me. It was the realest gesture a woman had made to me in a long time.
“Well, Ms. Ralls. The answer is no, nothing really. You’d think that the life of an NFL player would be much more interesting. I went to the gym with Ryder and yeah...” I spent time with Harper, but we were miles away from that conversation.
“That sounds scintillating. Tell me more.” She laughed.
“Oh, it was.” I leaned in like I was about to tell her some big secret. “He’s a big softie. Always grunting through his sets.”
She stopped dead and called out to the empty sand. “Extra, extra read all about it. Ryder is a big softie. Stop the presses!”
Gabrielle had a goofy side. I’d always hated goofy, but she wore it well. “Yeah, yeah. Enough with your big mouth.”
“You like my big mouth. You’d like it even more if—” She squealed as I hoisted her up over my shoulder and walked her to the water.
“You had one free pass, Ms. Ralls. And you’ve already used it, so it seems a swim in some cool water is in order.” She hammered her tiny fists on my back as she laughed her protests.
“Don’t you dare, James! I’m serious, put me down!” She could hardly catch her breath.
“You had more than enough warning,” I told her as my feet hit the shoreline.
“I surr
ender. I do. I solemnly swear that I was up to no good!”
Jesus, did she just quote Harry Potter to me? I set her down. “Mischief managed.”
Her face turned incredulous as I completed her quote. “You are something else, Mr. Skye.”
I tugged on her ponytail like a middle-schooler. “As are you, Gabrielle. As are you.”
We stood in silence for a beat before she reached for my hand and laced our fingers together. “So, uh, who is Ryder?”
“Do you know nothing about the team?” She honestly expected me to believe that she knew none of us?
She shrugged and stared out at the ocean. “I don’t know nothing; I just don’t know much. I prefer it that way.”
“Ryder is my wide receiver.” I doubted that the information meant much to her. “And my best friend. We met in college and sort of stuck together, you know?”
She tilted her head and looked at me contemplatively. “Yeah, I do, actually. My best friend is Heather. We met when I was in my freshman year. She’s older than I am.”
“No shit; Ryder is three years older than me,” I told her.
Her eyes lit up, though it seemed like there was some kind of challenge in them. “I win then; Heather is 28. She’s four years older than me.”
“Figures that we’d both have best friends who were older.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why is that?” She seemed confused.
“I don’t know you. I don’t know your story, but something tells me that we were both forced to grow up way before our time.”
I didn’t have any fucking clue where that came from. I didn’t do emotions. I didn’t do any kind of deep, aside from the balls deep variety.
Thankfully, Gabrielle had the good sense to leave it there and didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t let it go without giving me shit for it, though. “Well, well. Look who's all insightful at the ripe old age of 24.”
“Don’t go blabbing about it. You’ll ruin my rep.”
“Oh yeah? Your secret is safe with me.” Her face grew serious as she crossed her heart.
“Wanna hope to die or stick a needle in your eye?”
She rolled her eyes but smiled a relaxed smile at me. “Not really, no. But I’ll keep your secret anyway.”
“So how about your secret?” Why the fuck was I asking that?
She paled. “What secret?”
“I couldn’t exactly help but overhear you and your dad the other day, arguing about the bar exam.”
“Oh, that.” The wind had been swept out of her sails. “It’s not a secret, really. The bar exam was just his dream, you know?”
“Yeah? It seems that it’s affecting you enough that you might have shared that dream with him.”
“Maybe. I just don’t know what I want anymore.” There was definitely more than her father to this issue.
It was obvious that she was a bit brokenhearted about her decision not to take the exam. “Want to tell me about it?”
We walked and talked, and walked some more. She talked about the bar exam, and her passion shone through. She became animated talking about it. She clearly enjoyed the prospect of becoming a lawyer, but there was something there. Other reasons for her not wanting to take the exam.
“You know, I think taking the exam would be good for you. You’re really passionate about it. Even I can tell that. Maybe it’s worth reconsidering.”
She stopped and stared out over the ocean. Then she surprised me again. “Maybe you’re right.”
I let it go after that, and the conversation turned light again. Our hands were intertwined most of the day, and as we approached our towels, she pressed herself closer to me.
“So, should we take this back to your place?”
This woman was seriously something else. I hesitated. She quickly let go of my hand, started gathering her towel, and turned to leave.
“Maybe next time,” I said. “I just don’t really bring women home to my place. Too complicated.”
“Sure, James, whatever. It was just a suggestion. I’ll see you around, okay?”
Chapter Twelve
Gabrielle
I muttered under my breath as I sank back into the ridiculously uncomfortable couch in my father’s waiting room. I had to wait for him to see me. Again. I hadn’t even been early this time.
“His teleconference is running over,” a different receptionist than the last one had informed me and had then instructed me to wait. At least she’d offered coffee straight off the bat.
“How long have you been working here?” I hated small talk, but I was bored. And irritated. I wasn’t about to let my annoyance fester. I had to keep my damn cool this time around.
She seemed confused at my question as she handed me my coffee. “Three years or so. Why?”
“I was just wondering what happened to his regular receptionist.” Not that I cared, really. It didn’t matter to me what the face looked like that told me to wait for my appointment to see my own father. I just really sucked at small talk and couldn’t think of anything else to ask.
The confusion in her eyes cleared up. “Oh, you mean Olivia. She’s on break. I fill in for her when she has to step out.”
“Ah, okay. That makes sense, I guess.” Well, that was that for that line of questioning. I was about to ask her what she thought about the weather we’d been having when my father’s voice crackled on the intercom.
“You can send her in now, Rose.” Lucky me.
My father’s back was turned to me as he stared out of his office window. He turned to face me when the door clicked shut. “Gabrielle, thank you for coming.”
Of course he would treat me like just another client. Same shit, different day. At least he gave me a quick hug before he motioned to the same client chair that I’d been seated in for our blowout the week before.
“You didn’t leave me with much of a choice, Dad. You said it yourself. You told me to be here. You weren’t asking.” I crossed my arms and put one leg over the other as I leaned back and settled in for the inevitable lecture.
“That may be true, but can’t I express gratitude to my daughter for taking the time out of her busy schedule to come and see me?” The emphasis he’d put on the word busy had me bristling, and I hadn’t even been in there for longer than a minute.
I sighed and took my turn staring out the window to the practice field below. “I don’t need gratitude, Dad.”
“No, I suppose you don’t. What you need is your line of credit reopened.” There was a hint of something in his voice, though I couldn’t place it. It sounded too much like sadness. Or regret. But that couldn’t be right. He was probably just tired from all of his meetings.
“That’s not why I came. Thank you for reopening it, though.”
Big girl panties, Gabrielle. I was proud of my answer.
“You know, I was thinking about your mother earlier. Before you came in.” As always, the mere mention of her had caused a lump the size of Texas to form in my throat and tears to sting the back of my eyes.
I swallowed. The lump didn’t go anywhere. “You were?”
“Yes. I know that you think that law school was all my idea. It wasn’t. I know that I’m the one who’s been pushing you into it all these years, but she wanted it too. Before she left, before she...” His voice trailed off, but it didn’t break. There was no emotion in it, not really.
His words took me by force. “Really? She wanted me to go to law school?”
“Yes. Well, maybe not law school in particular, but she did mention once that you’d be an excellent lawyer. She wanted you to have a profession that would allow you to be an independent woman. Law is the profession that you chose, Gabrielle. Albeit with a little nudge from me—” My disbelieving laugh cut him off.
“A little nudge? Is that what it was, Dad?” It had been a shove. Right off the edge of a cliff. There had been no alternative route for me off of that cliff. My dad had blocked them all. So I took the only route available and tried my best to brac
e for the fall. I was still doing just that.
“Yes, Gabrielle. You wanted law school. You wanted the bar. You wanted to be a lawyer. If you would look past your anger and resentment towards me, you would see that. You need to see that for yourself.”
“Yes, Dad, I do. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” It took everything that I had to keep my voice steady.
“No, what you’re doing is throwing a tantrum and putting your future at risk. You need to finish what you started, Gabrielle. Your mother would have wanted the same thing.”
That was it. I wasn’t going to sit there calmly as he told me what my mother would have wanted. “How would you know what she would have wanted? You were never around! You were always too wrapped up in this dumb team!” Tiny explosions of rage roiled in my stomach and shot up my spine.
My father’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he had the nerve to look like he was somehow the one in pain. “I work hard, Gabrielle. I always have. And that’s exactly what you need to be doing.”
“You keep saying need. What makes you think for one second that you know what I need?”
The accusatory tone of my voice made the muscles in his jaw clench, but then he took a deep breath and threw his hands out in a simple gesture.
“Because I’m your father, Gabrielle.” He said it in a way that made it seem like that simple fact was the answer to everything. Like he simply expected me to say, ‘Oh, well, in that case...’
“You are,” I said. “Yet you make me make appointments with you and then force me sit outside and wait for the exact time of the appointments, but your players are, and I quote, welcome to pop in anytime. Don’t start acting like the fact that you’re my father means anything now.” My throat burned. My eyes stung. I took a few calming breaths.
My father had the good sense to look somewhat contrite. His tone was borderline patronizing when he spoke again, however, so I guessed that the contrition had been short lived. “The players are a part of my work, Gabrielle. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. And your work always comes first. It always has.” I crossed my arms over my chest again, trying to protect my heart from whatever he was about to say.