by Jen Doyle
Yes. Her father had liked practical jokes. It would drive her mother crazy.
And, well... Hell. Deke was right. She’d been so angry at her father for so long, it was hard to remember that part of him. That he was always making her...
No.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, trying not to cry.
Even though her gaze was focused on the ground, out of the corner of her eye she could see him lift his head and look at her. Then he rested his head on the ground again. “I remember this one time Lola and Jules decided they were going to start a fire. They put stacks and stacks of newspaper into the fireplace. There was so much smoke we had to keep the windows open for days in the dead of winter just so the smoke detectors wouldn’t go off.”
As he spoke, Deke reached out and placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “My dad was furious. I’ve never in my life seen him get so mad. But your dad thought it was the funniest thing in the world. I mean, he put the fire out and scared the bejesus out of us with his speech about playing with matches—my dad was practically stroking out, so he couldn’t even speak—but there were stacks of newspapers showing up on our porch for weeks after that.”
After another squeeze, he pulled his hand away. For a few minutes, neither of them said a word.
Then, for reasons she couldn’t have given if her life depended on it, Fitz said, “He was an alcoholic, you know.” Like she needed to get that out before anyone else did. Lord knew, the good people of Inspiration had liked to make sure she was aware of that fact.
Deke obviously wasn’t one of those people. He only gave her one of those not-falling-for-your-efforts-to-put-me-off looks before resting his head back on his hands and closing his eyes again. “What was he like when you were growing up?”
Her gut clenched.
It felt so strange to be talking about her dad. She didn’t even know what to say. Her friends knew her parents had been homesteaders, living off the land. They’d homeschooled her, and although they’d gotten together with other families when the isolation became just too much, they’d primarily kept to themselves.
It all made sense, of course, once Fitz learned about the family he’d left behind. That he’d hidden his existence from them for twelve years. Being too social, even if the town they lived in was a good fifty miles away from Inspiration, would have been dangerous. If you didn’t know everyone in the next town over, you at least knew people who did. That he hadn’t moved farther away was a risk in and of itself. But even with the full awareness of what he’d done to Nate and Jules and...
She felt the sob rise up and deliberately forced it back down. “He was the best dad.” It wasn’t exactly something you could go about saying when he’d abandoned the most beloved family in town. It was very possibly the first time she’d ever even admitted it out loud.
“He made everything fun. It was like he lived for making my mom and me happy. Like we were the most important things in the world.” She sat back on her heels as she looked at his name carved out in the stone in front of her. Yet for all of the good memories she had of him, she knew there was another side. The part that was broken. The part she was afraid was broken in her.
“I always knew he was really sad,” she whispered. The tears came back and this time she couldn’t stop them. “I don’t know why he left them or why he never came back. But I think he missed them so—”
Before she even realized she’d begun to cry full-out, Deke’s arms were around her. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned into him as he murmured, “Angel,” and stroked her hair.
She had no idea how long she cried, just that when she was done she felt empty in the oddest of ways. Like she had a beginning, and an inevitable end, but nothing quite to fill in the middle. Nothing to fill her in. Sitting there at her parents’ graves, in the comfort and safety of Deke’s arms, she was in a strange kind of limbo, staring into the complete unknown. A future she wished could be like everyone else’s, but that she very specifically didn’t think about because she couldn’t see herself ever trusting a man enough to promise her life to him. Or trusting the universe enough not to throw another tornado in her direction and take everything she loved away. But the idea of living out her days alone was utterly terrifying.
Given her state of mind at the moment, the absolute last thing she should have done was lift her head up. Run her hand up Deke’s chest. She most definitely shouldn’t have pushed herself up and laid a kiss right there on his lips.
And he knew it.
He didn’t kiss her back right away, which was the very definition of awkward and would have been humiliating even if it hadn’t been for these particular circumstances. But when she began to pull back, his hand went to the back of her neck and he held her in place. “Don’t pull away from me.”
They were close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin, to see the lines around his eyes tighten in frustration. She even saw the split second of doubt before he gave in, cupping the back of her head and guiding her the rest of the way to him. She closed her eyes at the dizzying heat as his mouth closed over hers.
The kiss was over almost as soon as it started, but so overwhelming she felt it running through her even after he’d pulled away—while at the same time coming closer, resting his forehead against hers.
“Sometimes I want you so much I can’t even breathe,” he said once again, shocking her to the point of silence.
Maybe it wasn’t that bad of an idea. Maybe they wouldn’t be pushing their luck by having sex one more time. Maybe it wouldn’t be too complicated to sleep together and still be friends.
Then he muttered, “Fuck,” and, oddly, something about Jeremy Renner, before letting go of her and getting to his feet.
“I think I need to take a walk,” he said. “You want your things from the car?”
Um, what?
Oh, right. Her hat and her drink. “Sure. Thanks.”
Without looking down at her he nodded and, shoving his hands in his pockets, walked off in that direction.
After a few minutes of sitting there in a state of shock, she forced herself to get back to the work of weeding her parents’ graves.
Chapter Sixteen
For Deke, everything changed after that day at the cemetery. Pieces fell into place, making sense of something he’d only begun to realize was a puzzle. There was the Fitz he’d grown up with—the one who was the sixth man on their team, who pulled no punches, who came in and ran the show, kicking ass and taking names. Then there was Angelica Wade, the girl who’d had an ongoing thing with Peggy for years, who visited her parents’ graves every week, and who had all these feelings she’d never let go.
She also happened to be amazing in bed. But when he thought about that, it made things awkward, so he concentrated on the other things instead. Like, for example, staying as far away from Peggy and her friends as was possible, which was difficult considering they were in his bar all the time and half of them had kids on his team. Also, getting Fitz to talk about her parents in front of Wash and Jason and Lola. Not Jules—he wouldn’t put either of them in that spot—but if there was a chance to get her talking about something from her life before Inspiration, he jumped on it.
She didn’t know what to make of it. Hell, neither did he. He just wanted her to be her. Both Fitz and Angelica.
She was not overwhelmingly happy about it. At least that was his take, given that she’d been a little hands off. Maybe he was just hyperaware and so was paying extra close attention, but she was definitely a little distant. Was certainly keeping her distance by skipping out on their runs and avoiding pretty much any situation where they might end up alone together.
Which was probably for the best. Since he was a true believer in the “any resistance whatsoever means no” directive, he was forcing himself to be hands
off, too, even if his dick didn’t feel the same—even though it meant walking around with a woody for days on end. Hell, by the time All-Star weekend came around two and a half weeks after they’d had sex, he felt like he was a teenager again. Since he’d actually had more sex at that age than he was having now, that was a freaking problem. It was a bigger problem that, for as much as he tried to psych himself up for being in San Francisco and hitting some of those parties again, he couldn’t quite bring himself to get interested in any woman other than Fitz. He’d hoped it would be better by now. But, no. Every piece of him wanted every piece of her.
Yeah, he was screwed. Just not literally.
And now here they were in California, about to spend four days in closer proximity than usual, which wasn’t going to help matters one bit.
Keeping his sigh to himself, Deke let his forehead rest against the floor-to-ceiling window with its view of San Francisco Bay.
“Crazy, no?” Wash said from Deke’s side as they looked out over the city below.
Would he be referring to the private plane that had brought them to California? The four bottles of complimentary Dom in the bucket on the bar? Nate and Dorie’s two-story hotel room, the freaking Presidential Suite, complete with two and a half bathrooms and a baby grand next to the full dining room with a table set for eight? Or maybe it was the dodging in and out of cars as crowds of photographers shadowed them.
“Crazy,” Deke repeated. As in, batshit. Exhausting, too. You couldn’t pay Deke enough to live like this, not even the hundreds of millions Nate actually earned. Maybe Deke’s life was a little too simplistic for most folks, but, comments from the peanut gallery aside, he was happy with it. He liked kicking back with his friends. He liked heading down to the fishing hole with Fitz even when it actually meant fishing, although just in case anyone was paying attention, he liked it a whole lot too when they were naked and kissing.
Shaking his head as he jammed his hands in his pockets and turned to Wash, he said, “Do you miss it?”
“Not even a little bit,” Wash answered without hesitation. “It drains your soul.” He tipped his head toward Nate, who was over by the bar, pacing as he talked on his phone. “I think Dorie saved his life. No lie.”
With a glance over toward Nate, Deke had to agree. For most of the last few years, Deke had been sure they’d lost him for good. Even six months before, Deke wouldn’t have sworn Nate was still the same guy he’d grown up with. But then he’d met Dorie and now they had him back.
Dorie, who had, by the way, been dubbed “America’s Sweetheart” by the media and was the hit of the weekend, to Nate’s complete dismay. In fact, from what Deke could tell that was what the phone call was about. Something about Nate agreeing to some exclusive interview if the cameras would leave them alone.
“Just bring it down to normal levels of craziness,” Nate muttered. After a few more murmurs he hung up the phone and shook his head at Wash and Deke. “Ridiculous,” he said, throwing back a full glass of whiskey. Then he went to the bottom of the stairs and called up. “Babe, the later we are, the more access they have. And I already know you look perf...”
His voice faded into nothingness as he took a step back. Then he frowned. “Shit.”
Wash raised his eyebrows and grinned at Deke. “This’ll be interesting.”
Dorie came down wearing a dress with crisscrossing straps that, granted, brought all sorts of possibilities to mind. She looked hot, no doubt. But that wasn’t what Nate was commenting on. That became obvious as soon as Fitz came into view.
Ironically, what she was wearing kept pretty much everything covered up. But the way it did so was with black pants that begged you to imagine her curves hugging you in all the places it counted. Though the cherry red shirt she had on was long-sleeved and buttoned up, it was also entirely sheer, and underneath it she wore a black camisole that only highlighted what he was intimately aware was some world-class cleavage. As if that weren’t enough, she’d gone on the heavier side with the makeup, her eyes dark with shadow and liner, her cheeks flushed pink and her lips fire-engine red.
“Holy shit,” Wash muttered. “That’s not Fitz.”
If only it weren’t.
If asked, Deke would have said his preference was for a less made-up look. But on Fitz, when it was topped off by her hair all long and wild, tousled in a way that couldn’t possibly be natural but that looked like she had just been completely and satisfyingly fucked—again, something of which he was keenly aware, well... By now he was used to his dick going rock hard whenever he saw her, but right now he couldn’t even think for all the buzzing in his head.
He did register that there was a conversation going on between Fitz and Nate, with Nate clearly trying to get her to change without coming out and stating that under no circumstances was his little sister leaving this room looking like that, given the animals who populated those parties. Animals who once upon the time had gone by names like Nate, Wash and Deke. Jason and Cal, too. Being those guys was a whole lot different than being related to a woman guys like that had in their sights. It did give a whole new perspective.
“Are you serious?” Dorie asked, jabbing Nate’s chest with her finger before getting up in his face, her hands planted on her hips. “Do I need to remind you about playing pool with Tommy?”
Which, clearly meant something to Nate, because, although his nostrils practically flared, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that, even if he’d thought about saying something, he wasn’t about to now.
Having obviously already figured out exactly how far she needed to go, Dorie grabbed her bag off the bar and then took Fitz’s hand and yanked before heading directly to the door. “Come or don’t. We’re going dancing.”
The door closed behind them before Nate released his stance. When he did, there was no less heat, it was just directed at Wash and Deke. “Fuck.” Then he whirled on his heel and followed after them.
Yeah. Deke agreed with the sentiment. It was bad enough he was going to have to watch Fitz all night when she looked like that. Considering they were going to a party whose invite list included several hundred of those primates...?
Fuck, indeed.
* * *
Lights started flashing and reporters started shouting as soon as they walked out of the hotel. Nate had arranged for private security, which had seemed a ridiculous concept to Fitz when she first heard about it. Given the throngs of people on the sidewalk who were shouting Nate’s and Dorie’s names, she realized that, if anything, he probably hadn’t hired enough.
“Is this for real?” she murmured as a mammoth guy in a black suit held his arms out to keep the people from crowding in too close to Dorie as he led her to the limo.
Nate, who seemed torn between following immediately after them and waiting for Fitz, frowned as his eyes scanned the crowd. “Everyone keeps telling me the craziness will die down.” He put his arm around Fitz’s shoulder and pulled her up against him. “Next time I pull a stunt like that—” meaning, Fitz supposed, a proposal that went viral within seconds “—tell me I should think twice.”
“Awww...” Fitz gave him a big smile. “You know it was the sweetest thing ever.” Even Fitz, who wasn’t a believer in the whole romance thing, had cried some happy tears when the video appeared on all of her feeds.
Stopping abruptly a few feet away from the limo, Nate frowned down at her as he waited for a different security guy to open up the door. “Sweet” clearly didn’t go along with his pro catcher vibe.
She grinned as she climbed in and scooted to the far end of the seat, right across from Dorie. Nate got in next, then Wash next to him. Deke, who seemed on board with the please-stay-far-enough-away-so-I-don’t-jump-your-bones-in-front-of-my-brother vibes she was sending, ended up on the seat next to her, but sat far enough away there was no chance of even an inadvertent brushing up.
&nb
sp; Which was good. It was their new normal. She was fine as long as she wasn’t touching him. She’d even agreed to go fishing a few more times, with the caveat that Silas and Matty come along. She needed the buffer. Although Deke had been entirely aware of what she was doing, he didn’t seem to mind. Once he got them set up with their gear, he’d cast his line into the water, sit back and pull his cap down over his eyes, and then ask her something about her mom or her dad or growing up and just generally unlocking all the doors she had slammed shut years ago.
It kind of sucked. She felt like she was in some strange version of It’s A Wonderful Life, and there was some greater power showing her, Here. This is what your life could be if you’d only just let it. But even thinking about those kinds of things made her unsettled. Sometimes even angry. And although she couldn’t seem to escape the exceedingly naughty dreams she continued to have about him each night, she worked hard at keeping all those thoughts at bay. Having gotten extremely good at masking her frustration for over two weeks now, she merely turned her head and looked out the window of the limo.
She actually had high hopes for tonight. Resting her head against the seat as the limo pulled out into traffic, she focused on that: fun. Also preparing herself to pretend she wasn’t apeshit jealous once Deke put himself out there. She’d been out with him enough to know how this went. He’d walk into a crowded room, women across the land would notice, and then no one would see Deke for—
“Shit. Deke and Fitz, switch sides,” Nate muttered and she sat up straight.
“What?” she snapped as Deke’s head turned sharply, both of them obviously highly aware of the same thing: maneuvering of any kind would mean actual contact.