Southern Heat (Game On Book 2)

by Parker Kincade

  Brady is at a critical juncture in his career. He’s on the cusp of the big payout, but New York has got to be questioning his dedication at this point.

  Tyler’s fingernails bit into his palms. What the hell do you know about it, fucker?

  Come on, the last of the four-man team chimed in. New York will keep him, if only to prevent him from becoming an opponent. They aren’t going to let a player of Brady’s caliber go to another team.

  Damn straight.

  They could offer Eric Sandquist half the cash they’ll have to fork over to keep Brady on the roster. And Sandquist is there, getting the job done.

  Tyler silently seethed as the four-man tag team continued to debate his future. At least he’d stopped worrying about his lack of Plan B. Gabriella had been right about one thing—if New York didn’t give him a contract, another team would. But none of those jokers on the TV wanted to talk about how hard he worked. How many fucking hours he put in every goddamn day. They hadn’t said anything he hadn’t already considered, but it was still his life, his career, they were dissecting. His decisions they were questioning on national television.

  “You’re letting that girl distract you.”

  “Gabriella isn’t distracting me. We went to a ballgame. I followed my PT protocol and Gabriella worked on my shoulder while we were gone.”

  Not a whole lot of room for argument there. Apparently Dad decided to change tactics. He muted the volume on the TV and slid him a glare.

  “Maddie isn’t answering my calls. You got something to do with that?”

  Tyler forced back his irritation, refusing to take the bait. “Maddie’s grown.” Mostly. “She can make her own decisions about who she chooses to talk to.”

  “What gives you the right to move her into your place? To go against my wishes? You know damn well I told that girl she needed to get a job this summer.”

  “She’s got a job.”

  “Not one that pays.”

  The delicate threads of Tyler’s give-a-shit rope frayed. “That’s not really your business, is it? If anyone has a right to say what Maddie does with her education, other than Maddie herself, it wouldn’t be you. Maddie is happy, which is what you should be concerned about. She’s safe, also an appropriate fatherly concern. If you can’t support her emotionally, leave her alone. She doesn’t need anything else from you.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?”

  “This conversation is over.” Tyler surged to his feet. His father was spoiling for a fight, and Tyler wasn’t in the mood to be accommodating. He turned to leave.

  “Why haven’t you told your momma?”

  Tyler stopped. He knew full well what his dad was referring to. Slowly, he turned to face the man he’d once respected. “Because I love her, and she loves you. I don’t want to break her heart. But let’s get one thing straight. I’m not the one who has anything to be ashamed of. If you give Maddie any more shit, I’ll tell her and Mom who’s paying for Maddie’s college … and why.”

  “You sure are a righteous little fuck, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. I guess I’m a chip off the ole block, aren’t I?” Good Southern manners doused with plain orneriness made him add, “Sir.”

  Tyler slammed the door on his way out. He made it to his car, already calculating how long it would take him to get to the gym. As expected, the riveting exchange with his father spawned the need to burn a little tread.

  19

  “I signed the papers yesterday.”

  “So, it’s done, huh?”

  Gabriella wiped her hands on the towel draped over her shoulder. “It’s done.” A couple of signatures, a hefty wire transfer into her bank account, and she had less than a month to move.

  The remorse she expected to feel once the deal was inked never came. Instead, excitement for a new adventure made her hands shake as she pulled a sheet of delicate puff pastries from the oven. She was starting over, but this time she was doing it her way. And while yes, her decision would prove advantageous to her budding relationship with Tyler, she could move forward knowing she made the decision for herself. For her own happiness.

  Lillian’s head fell forward. The soft thunk of counter meeting flesh made Gabriella cringe. A tortured groan followed. “You’re the worst neighbor ever. I can’t believe you’re leaving.” Lillian’s head snapped up. “Have you told Tyler yet?”

  Gabriella’s heart did a happy little jump at the sound of Tyler’s name. “Not yet. I’m going to tell him today. His plane should be landing any minute.”

  Tyler had spent the last week on rehab assignment with a Triple-A team out of Pennsylvania. She kept a close eye on the Internet, since the minor league games weren’t televised. Between what Tyler told her over the phone each night and what she’d gleaned from the team website, he’d played remarkably well. So well in fact, he would be rejoining the Empire in Baltimore the following afternoon. His return to Arkansas was nothing more than a fly-by.

  Just to see me, she sing-songed in her head. She couldn’t wait. She wanted to be at the airport, but Tyler had insisted on renting a car since he had such an early flight the next day.

  Gabriella grabbed the bowl of cocoa Irish cream filling from the fridge and picked up a pastry bag.

  “I think I’m nervous. Hey, would you slice those puffs for me?”

  “Sure.” Lillian reached for the paring knife Gabriella had set out earlier. “Like this?” Lillian demonstrated by slicing horizontally through the middle.

  “That’s perfect, thanks. I appreciate your help. I wanted to get these finished before Tyler gets here.”

  “Why are you nervous? Do you think he’ll be upset?”

  “I hope not. I mean, I don’t know. For the most part, we haven’t had to do the long-distance thing since he’s been here. All of that changes tomorrow. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know the rules. It’s confusing. And Tyler doesn’t behave like any boyfriend I’ve ever had. He pays attention. He brings dinner over when he knows I’ve had a busy day. When I talk, he doesn’t act distracted, as if he’s thinking about something else. He listens. He’s fun, playful, and … overwhelming.

  “Our relationship has gone so fast. I can’t predict how he’ll react. I don’t want to freak him out, though. He has female fans who throw themselves at him.” Gabriella laughed. “I don’t want him to think I’m some crazy stalker person.”

  “Tyler knows you aren’t a stalker. Crazy, on the other hand?” Lillian shook her head. “A simple conversation in the beginning could’ve eliminated the whole stalker angle. He would’ve been privy to your thought process, and he’d have an understanding of how you came to your decision.”

  Lillian’s gaze took on a faraway look. “When Michael was alive, we talked about everything, right from the beginning. No subject was taboo. Even after the kids were born, we made it a priority to set aside time for each other every day. Sometimes the topics were mundane—how was your day kind of things. But by creating the habit, we left the door open for all the other things—emotional, spiritual, daily life stuff, whatever. Talking kept us grounded. It kept us connected. It kept us together.” She blinked. Refocused. Shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve kept this from Tyler for so long.”

  Gabriella reached across the counter and squeezed Lillian’s hand. “I know you miss Michael.”

  “I’ll always miss him, but that’s not what I was trying to convey.”

  “You make it sound so sordid. Tyler and I have been busy getting to know each other, not planning a future. Besides, Tyler has a lot going on right now.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Not the same thing.”

  “I wonder if Tyler would agree?”

  Why was Lillian harping on this? “It’s not as though I am actively trying to keep secrets.” Sliding the plate of puffs closer, Gabriella got to work, adding a dollop of cream to the base before topping it with the other half of the pastry. She planned
to dust each one with a mixture of powdered sugar, cinnamon, and dark cocoa powder.

  Lillian tilted her head, studying her while Gabriella did her best to ignore the gesture. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. Okay, I’ll admit I willingly didn’t discuss my move to the East Coast with him, but I had my reasons.” Good, solid reasons. Weren’t they? Thanks to Lillian, she wasn’t so sure. “I’m not trying to hide the outcome. I’m going to talk to him about Boston. Had I chosen to stay, I would’ve talked to him about that, too.”

  Lillian chuffed. “After the fact.”

  “Come on, Lill. I needed to know I wasn’t moving back to Boston strictly to be closer to Tyler.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “Why are you so irritated?”

  “Because you’re missing the point, Gab. What does it matter if you moved to be closer to Tyler? Isn’t he worth being closer to?”

  “Of course he is. But I thought the same thing about Roger, and we were together for several years. Look how that turned out.”

  “I’m not trying to discount what you went through when Roger left. I understand the pain of loss.”

  Queue hard-core guilt. Lillian had lost her husband in a tragic car accident, and here she was, whining about her ex.

  “God, Lill. I’m sorry.” She was a horrible friend.

  Lillian waved her off. “You don’t owe me an apology. I will offer you a little friendly advice, if you’re willing to hear it.”

  “I’m all ears.” Gabriella set the pastry bag aside and gave Lillian her undivided attention.

  “I understand you’re scared. What Roger did was inexcusable, but you can’t measure every man by his failures. Do you love Tyler?”

  “I think I do, but God, how do I know? I thought I loved Roger.”

  “Tyler isn’t Roger.”

  “I know he isn’t. But I’m still me. I’m still the girl who makes decisions based on the needs of others. I know this sounds selfish, but this once, for this one thing, I wanted to be sure I was making the best decision for me.”

  Lillian’s response was cut short by the triple beep of the alarm system, signaling the front door had been opened.

  “Honey, I’m home!” Tyler voice was followed by the slamming of the front door. “Where’s the beautiful woman of the house?”

  * * *

  Tyler found Gabriella at the kitchen sink, washing her hands. Lillian sat at the center island, which was covered in some kind of round pastry-looking things. His stomach fell to his shoes.

  “Uh-oh. What happened?” He dropped his duffel on the linoleum and went to Gabriella, tossing out a “Hey, Lillian” as he passed by. He wrapped his arms around Gabriella, pulling her back against his chest.

  Gabriella squeezed his arms, a nervous laugh on her lips. “Nothing happened. I wanted to have a nice little treat for you when you got here.”

  Tyler wasn’t buying it. He’d walked in on something. But with Gabriella in his arms and her mouth so close, he wasn’t inclined to dig into their girl talk. Instead, he buried his nose in her hair. God, she smelled so sweet and fresh. He could eat her right up.

  “You’re treat enough for me.” Tyler spun her around, kissing her quick lest he forget they weren’t alone. “Hiya, gorgeous.”

  “Hi, yourself. Good trip?” She seemed hesitant, nervous. She wiggled around him to fuss with the pastries.

  “Great trip.” He picked up one of the cream-filled, mini-sandwich things and popped it into his mouth. A moan tore from his throat as it practically melted across his taste buds. “Holy shit,” he said through his mouthful. He ran his tongue over his teeth to get every last bit before he swallowed. “Those are fantastic.”

  Lillian laughed and stood. “On that note, I’ve got to run. Tyler, it’s great to see you. Gab, we’ll talk soon.”

  “Good to see you too, Lill.” Tyler should’ve suggested she not leave on his account, but after a week away, he was dying to have Gabriella all to himself. “I’ll catch you next time I’m in town. Let’s all have dinner. You and the kids and us.”

  Lillian’s eyes turned glassy. She patted his arm as she passed, then snaked an arm around him for a quick side-hug.

  What the hell? Tyler hugged her back, glancing to Gabriella for a clue. No help there. Gabriella was too busy rearranging confections.

  “Safe travels, Tyler. Good luck in Baltimore.”

  “Thanks.” He dropped a kiss on the top of Lillian’s head. A niggling of unease took root. “Take care of yourself.”

  Once Lillian was gone, Tyler turned to Gabriella. “What was that about?”

  “She’s okay. We were talking and she mentioned Michael, her late husband. She misses him.”

  “I missed you.” Tyler pulled Gabriella close. The thought of Lillian losing her husband tightened his arms, as though he could protect them from the same pain if he held on hard enough. Tyler eased his grip enough to bend his head, and took the kiss he’d been waiting for all week. Determined to focus on the here and now, he coaxed her mouth open, teased his tongue over her lips. He swallowed her sigh, loving the way she melted against him as he tasted her.

  “Hey,” he muttered, breaking the kiss. “After the series in Baltimore, I’ll be back in New York for a couple of days. Why don’t you take a few days off and come stay with me?” He didn’t consider himself a clingy man, but being away from Gabriella for a week had sucked. Unfortunately with his schedule, it had only been a taste of what was yet to come. “I can arrange for you to sit with Jessa and the other girls during the games. You’ll like them. Jessa’s been looking forward to meeting you, probably to tell you embarrassing stories I’d rather you not hear.”

  He could see Jessa now, laughing with glee while she told Gabriella about the time some of his teammates stole all his clothes while he was in the shower, and he had to leave the ballpark in nothing but a towel and his shoes.

  “I can’t.”

  Tyler’s humor fled. The niggling was back—the all-too-familiar she’s hiding something paranoia rearing its ugly head as he waited for her to elaborate. And waited. Annnd waited.

  He released her and stepped away, leaning back against the counter. “Wanna tell me why you can’t?” he finally asked. “Or am I supposed to guess?” Seemed he was always guessing with her. Guessing at her thoughts, guessing how she felt about him, always fucking guessing. He was getting tired of it.

  Gabriella wiped her hands on a dish towel. Her chest rose as she pulled in a deep breath. The air between them seemed to still. All of a sudden he felt tense and edgy. Then she did the strangest thing. She smiled. “I’m moving.”

  I’m moving. His ears registered the words, but his brain was slow to get on board. He shook his head. “What? Where?” And why was this the first he’d heard about it?

  “Back to Boston. Isn’t that great? I’ll be so much closer to you now.”

  Boston. A three-hour train ride was a helluva lot closer than Arkansas. As happy as he was about the location, he couldn’t hide his shock. “What brought on the change? I thought you liked it here.”

  She nodded, hesitant. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “What I like about it isn’t enough to keep me here.”

  She was still holding her cards close to her chest. Goddamn it. Why wouldn’t she talk to him? Was he just supposed to accept what she was telling him without any discussion whatsoever?

  “I see.” He didn’t. Not at fucking all. “I didn’t realize your house was on the market. As much as I’ve been here, you’d think I would’ve noticed a sign in the yard or a lockbox on the door. As much as I’ve been in your bed, you’d think I might’ve at least heard you were considering a move.”

  She looked surprised by his outburst. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do at first. When Roger told me he wanted the house … that day in the coffee shop, remember?”

  He lowered his brows. Oh, he remembered.

  “Anyway, I was so shocked, my first instinct was to fight. Ro
ger threatened to make things harder for me if I took him to court. Apparently, his fiancée really wants the house. I did a lot of soul-searching and realized I didn’t care about the house. I wasn’t attached. To anything in Arkansas, actually. I love the friends I’ve made here, but I miss my family. I miss the ocean, and the salty air. Fresh seafood, god. I miss all of it. My parents have been trying to convince me to work in the restaurant for years. When my attorney told me what Roger was offering in exchange for the house, I figured it was my chance to start fresh. It was a better deal than I’d have gotten if I forced a sale or dragged him through the courts. So, I took the money and signed the house over to him.”

  “You gave him the house.”

  The remark matched his stunned expression.

  “Signed the papers yesterday. My dad found a studio apartment that’s close to the restaurant. It’s expensive, but with the settlement and what I’ll make working at Marano’s, I won’t have to worry.”

  Tyler scrubbed a hand over his mouth. His head was about to explode. “And all of this has happened since you and I met?”

  “Yes.” Her head tilted. She looked at him as though he were a puzzle to be solved. Funny, since he felt the same way about her. The difference was, he just figured out he’d done all the work for nothing, because half the bloody pieces were missing.

  He crossed his arms, staring hard into her eyes, trying to process everything she’d said.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. When I asked you if you were okay that day at the coffee shop and you said everything was fine, you lied.”

  Her eyelids flared wide. “Tyler—”

  “I’m not finished,” he barked, growing angrier by the minute. She had her say, now it was his turn. “When I asked you if Roger had been in contact, you lied. I’ve been here, or at least talked to you, every single day since the night we met. You gave up your house, found an apartment, and a new job, and you didn’t feel the need to say one fucking word to me about it?”

  “Why are you so angry? It wasn’t like that. This doesn’t have anything to do with you. You don’t understand. The decision about the house, the move, was something I needed to do on my own.”