Changing Her Plans (Santa Fe Bobcats)

by Jeanette Murray

  She hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch between them. “Isaac never remembers to take his phone off silent after practices or games.”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you two were on good terms.”

  Kristen cocked her head a little, scooting until she faced him directly. He mirrored her pose, wanting to watch her and not the screen.

  “Nope. David and I are actually rocking it with the co-parenting, if I do say so myself.” She sighed and snuggled back into the couch corner a bit. And he wondered what it would be like to have her swivel around enough to put her feet in his lap. If they could just exist like that on a weeknight, together, with no complications.

  And his heart railed again at the unfairness of it all.

  “Who’s Marlie?”

  “Marlie is Isaac’s oldest half-sibling. David’s daughter with his wife. Just got braces, poor thing.” Kristen grimaced in sympathy. “She’s an adorable young lady, but she’s smack in the middle of that awkward pubescent phase, and so nothing’s going right for her at the moment. David’s totally lost on how to handle it. He missed a lot of the teen angst with Isaac, by way of geography, and then he’s a boy, which minimizes the drama by about eighty-five percent.” She shuddered. “Teen girl drama. No thank you.”

  “Well, whatever you guys do to make it work, it’s impressive,” he said honestly. “I wish my sister had that sort of relationship with the father of her child, whoever the guy is. Might have made things easier.”

  She smiled softly and reached out to rub his forearm. “Or it might have made things more difficult. You said she was a smart woman. If she kept him away, probably a really good reason for it.”

  Clay shrugged a shoulder. “It’s really not important. She’s got what she needs to raise Stan the Man, and I get to see the little guy often enough to satisfy. It’s all good.”

  “Still rough though,” she said quietly, looking off in the distance a bit. “Yes, it’s true that I had to go it alone a lot, especially when David took the job out of state. But I have someone to back me up on the big issues and someone to bounce ideas off of. And someone who is willing to take Isaac the second anything is going on. She doesn’t have to worry about arguing with anyone about how to raise her son, but she’s solo, totally. Must be lonely.”

  “I’m here,” he reminded her. “I help out.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She patted his forearm for a second before pulling away again. “But it’s just not the same thing. No offense meant at all to you and your assistance. She’s grateful, I’m sure. But there’s just a different connection with the father of your child. Not always romantic—not in my case, for sure—but different. Nobody else can fully, truly identify with having created that little human. Doesn’t mean someone else couldn’t love him,” she added quickly. “David’s wife adores Isaac. And if something happened to me, she’d take him in a heartbeat, and I know she’d treat him like one of her own. But I know David would miss having me as a co-parent. It’s just…different.”

  He absorbed that for a moment, straightening on the couch a minute when Isaac walked back in, phone in his hands.

  “Mom, Nathan asked if I wanted to come over and spend the night. I’m not sure though.”

  “Weren’t you on the phone with your father?”

  “Yeah, but after we hung up, I saw I had missed texts.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “I mean, I don’t know. Nobody else is around to hang out with, so...maybe. He’s just younger.”

  Kristen stood and walked over to him. Clay sensed this was one of those private mom-to-son chats and stood to slip out. He worked on boxing up or covering the leftovers and found space in the fridge to store them when Isaac came back out to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Coach, my mom said I needed to check with you before I go since I invited you. That makes you my guest. Nathan asked if I wanted to go spend the night. Are you okay if I duck out early?”

  Clay grinned and knocked him on the shoulder gently. “I’m never going to say no to some team bonding, long as it’s done responsibly. Nathan’s a good kid. Have fun.”

  “Sure thing. Thanks for the dinner and leftovers.” Isaac bounded away and up the stairs, likely to pack his bag.

  “Poor Nathan,” Kristen said in a singsong voice. “He loves this team so much, but these kids are all just older, set in their ways, friendships already predetermined. Not every guy wants to add someone new to their outside-baseball crew.”

  “And let me guess...Isaac isn’t one of those kind.”

  “He’s a typical teen.” When Clay raised a brow, Kristen sighed. “He’s got a huge heart, but he’s also not an idiot. He knows what hanging out with a less popular kid could do to his rep. Sometimes he just needs to talk it out and have some encouragement to make the right choice. Nine times out of ten though, he’s gonna get there on his own without too much prodding. There was just a time limit on this decision. Couldn’t let the kid think forever.”

  “Maybe he’s like that because of his mom.” Clay watched her face soften toward him, but then Isaac came thundering back down the stairs like an entire herd of elephants in one teenage body. For a kid who ran with the grace of a gazelle around the bases, he was totally flat-footed at home.

  “Okay, see ya later, Coach! I’ll call you tomorrow when I wake up, Mom.” The door closed sharply behind him, and they stood in silence together while Isaac started his car and drove away. When the garage closed and silence reined, Kristen brushed her hands on her thighs.

  “So, thank you for dinner.”

  “Let’s not go down that road again,” he said with a grin, then reached for her. But she took a step back. “Problem?”

  “I...hmm.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “Want one?” When he shook his head, she shrugged and bumped the door closed with her hip. The sip she took from the bottle wouldn’t have drowned an ant.

  “I’m still figuring out how to handle this with Isaac. I’ve never lied to my kid. I don’t always tell him every single detail about my life, because that’s insane. But I don’t lie. He’s known in the past when I’ve dated a man, though he didn’t always meet the guy. Rarely, actually.”

  “Okay,” Clay said slowly.

  “But we’re not dating. We’re just...” She tipped the bottle of water back and forth between them. “We’re just doing the sex thing.”

  “This wasn’t sex. This was the complete opposite of sex,” he pointed out.

  “No, but...I don’t know.” She sighed and set the bottle down, walking to him. When she reached arm’s length to him, she stopped. “This is so new to me. Such unexplored territory.”

  “So let’s explore it together.” He held out his arms and felt pure gratitude when she stepped into them. “Is it being in your house that’s the problem?”

  “No, not really. Just…you can’t stay overnight.” She grimaced and pulled back enough he could see her face. “Sorry, that was rude.”

  “But it brings up questions for Isaac. I get it.” He kissed her, trying to show her, reassure her without words that he would never jeopardize or deliberately undermine her parenting choices. “If you invite me over, I’m playing by your rules. You set the boundaries. We go from there.”

  The relief was etched into her eyes as she watched him. “You’re…too good. I need to start finding flaws with you so I know you’re actually human.”

  He glanced left, then right, then leaned down to let her in on his not-so-secret secret.

  “I’ve started going gray.”

  “No,” she gasped in mock outrage, then hummed with pleasure while he rooted around at her neck, looking for that fragrant, delicious spot just under her jaw. “That’s even worse! Now you’re going to be a silver fox. How the hell will I resist?”

  “Don’t,” he suggested and sealed his lips over hers.

  Their kiss was a drug, and Clay had become an instant addict. With each pass of
his tongue over hers, the craving for more burrowed deeper inside him. Deep enough he knew it wouldn’t be satisfied with one more. Ten more. A hundred more kisses.

  Kristen speared her fingers through his hair and put enough pressure to pull away with a gasp. “God, you’re good at that.”

  “Right back at ya.” His hands roamed, finding her breasts under the simple T-shirt she wore. “Let’s take this upstairs before things get too heated. Carrying you to my room in my ranch is one thing. I’m walking blind in this place.”

  “Why go upstairs when there’s a floor right there?” she asked innocently. The way she watched him, with heated eyes, was the exact opposite of innocent.

  “That’s another great option.” He started to kneel down, ready to pull her on top of him, then groaned. “No condom.”

  “You’re not Mr. Prepared today?” she asked, teasing.

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t set out to coach baseball with sex on my mind.” He growled and nipped at her shoulder in punishment when she giggled. “I’m hoping you’re covered upstairs.”

  “I am,” she said slowly. “But...” She nibbled on her bottom lip and looked uncertain.

  “But?”

  “I’m safe. If you are, we could just ditch the condoms completely.”

  He blinked, sat back on his haunches.

  “Or not,” she added on a rush. “I totally understand if you don’t—”

  He cut that off with another kiss. “I trust you,” he said hoarsely, already anticipating what it would feel like to slide into her bare. Then he pulled her down, covering his body with hers to shelter her softer skin.

  She reached down and unbuttoned his fly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex like this,” she admitted on a breathless rush. “It’s so spontaneous and naughty.”

  He managed to pull one of her arms out of her T-shirt and fold the cup of her bra down before crunching up to take her nipple in his mouth. The lack of warning made her cry out. Her fingers froze, his top button half-undone.

  Knowing it was up to him to keep things moving along, Clay worked on her pants as she straddled his thighs. He got them completely undone, then pushed and shoved with her help until the pants flopped to the side. Then he arched his hips up and pulled, tugged, struggled until his own jeans were down around his knees. His erection nestled perfectly in the lips of her sex. The wet heat beckoned him, and he was ready to go in.

  Losing his grip on her breast, he pulled back enough to look at her. “Ready to crank it up a notch? Your show, baby.”

  She blinked confused eyes at him, then understanding dawned, and the confusion bled away into seductive power. God, the woman did something to him. “My show, huh? Let’s do this.” Reaching between them, she found his cock, stroking it a little first. Fumbling—though he was sure that was a ploy designed to drive him insane—before positioning the head of his erection at her entrance. “I want it fast. I don’t want to wait. I want it hard and fast.”

  “I think I might just come from listening to you talk.” He surged up, not waiting for her to come down to him. The moment he was engulfed in her, his body began the rapid climb to the finish. “God, I’m not gonna last. Touch yourself. Here.” Clay pulled her hand down between them, positioned her fingers right at her clit, waited until he felt them move before letting go.

  And devoted all his time to kissing her, leaving no square inch of space along her neck, her jaw, her cheek and temple untouched by his lips while his body clenched and fought against the wave of orgasm that threatened to cut the show short.

  “Oh God. Clay,” she moaned. “Do that, yes that again. Oh,” she breathed. “I’m...oh my God I’m...yes!”

  As she spasmed around him, Clay finally let his body take control and followed her into his own climax.

  Ten minutes later, they each rolled onto their sides. “I’ve never had a quickie like that,” she admitted, her eyes not quite meeting his. One finger traced around his chest, following the lines of muscles.

  He wanted to lay back, close his eyes and let the sensation of completeness take over and pull him under. But instead, he flattened his hand over hers. “It was one for the books.”

  “I’ve never... Wow, awkward,” she muttered, blowing a piece of her hair from her eyes. “Since David, I haven’t been with anyone without protection. I just didn’t want you to think that was something I did a lot.”

  He wouldn’t have judged her if she had. But... “I’m honored you trust me that much. And for the record, it’s been a damn long time for me too. Since I was an idiot teenager, actually.”

  That made her smile, and she curled into him.

  He’d told the truth there. He hadn’t left off a condom, even with his there-and-gone fiancée, since he was a teenager. The idea of getting a woman pregnant, even if she swore she was on something, had been enough to keep him religious about protection of his own. But with Kristen...

  Well, even if she did get pregnant, he’d have considered it a sign from the cosmos. Not that he’d ever intentionally trick her. But she was the first woman—the only woman—he could honestly see having kids with.

  Too damn bad that wasn’t in her master plan.

  But it made him think twice, at least, about the reality that being tied to Kristen for life wasn’t even remotely scary to him. In fact, he loved the idea. If only he could get her to come around to the same conclusion.

  Chapter 9

  Amanda answered the door, eyes looking dead from exhaustion and mouth pulled tight. She wore an oversized Bobcats shirt he’d given her a year ago when he first took the job in Santa Fe, sweatpants, and socks that looked too big for her feet. Her hair was up in a messy bun that listed a little to the side.

  “Surprise,” Clay said easily, reaching for his nephew who was perched on his mother’s hip.

  “Sure is.” With a sigh, Amanda relinquished Stanley, who seemed thrilled to see someone other than his mother.

  “What’s Stan the Man doing awake so late?” Clay checked his watch as Stanley immediately began rubbing at his cheeks, which carried the tactile bonus of late night scruff.

  “Keeping me from ever being able to sleep, ever.” Amanda shut the door behind them as Clay walked into the house. Following him, she moved to the couch, flopped down lengthwise and covered her eyes with her forearm. “He’s teething again, and apparently the farther back the teeth, the more likely the kids are to scream in pain in the middle of the night.”

  “Is that so?” Clay held up Stan, who seemed totally fine, if wide-awake for midnight. “That explains the lights. I wasn’t going to bug you, but I saw the lights so I figured I’d try.” He pulled Stanley close and nummed his tummy, to the boy’s shrieks of delight.

  “If coaching baseball has you this unbelievably chipper, you should switch sports.” Amanda rolled onto her side, smiling wearily as Stanley tugged and patted at Clay’s face. “Loves his uncle, that one.”

  “What’s not to love?” Clay pretended to nibble on the slobbery fingers that invaded his mouth.

  “I’ll start flipping through my mental diary from when we were kids when I’m not so tired I can’t remember my name. So why are you really here?”

  “I’m not sure.” He let Stanley down when the kid reached for the coffee table, then watched him patter away on clumsy feet to the corner where his toys had been piled up for the evening. “I just left Kristen’s house.”

  “Oh. Kristen.”

  He looked over, found his sister watching him with heavy eyes. “I told you yesterday…it’s not going anywhere.”

  “Sounds like it’s going to bed, if you just now left her place.”

  “Don’t be gross.”

  “Sister privilege.”

  He sighed and leaned back on the love seat. Across the room, Stanley pulled toys out of a box and threw them with abandon behind him, clearly looking for something in particular.

  “She doesn’t want kids.”

  Amanda winged one brow up. “Uh, correct me if I�
��m wrong, but isn’t that, like, sixteen years too late?”

  “He’s seventeen, actually. But I meant more. More kids.”

  “Hmm.”

  It was a loaded sound, but Clay went on as if he hadn’t heard it. “She’s this amazing mom to Isaac. It’s like they have this fantastic rapport where he respects his mom, and she doesn’t smother him, and he just gets done what needs to get done. And the way she and her ex handle parenting…it’s the sort of thing child psychologists would weep with gratitude to see. It’s so freaking mature, you know? Adult. Everyone. Even the ex, she made him sound like a good guy with his head on straight.”

  “Probably married some skinny bitch of a girl,” Amanda mumbled, her eyes drifting closed.

  “No, she acted like Isaac’s stepmom is pretty great too. But you know me. You know I want kids.”

  “You’re great with Stanley,” she said, her voice taking on a dreamy quality

  “Well, he’s a pretty great kid too.” The aforementioned Stanley found whatever toy he’d been searching for—some soft book with rubbery corners that he was currently attempting to gum into submission—and had completely tuned them out. “I just always thought my future would include a Stanley or two of my own someday.”

  “That would be good.” Amanda shifted, then her eyes popped open. “You said thought, as in past tense.”

  Had he? Huh. “Think. I think my future includes a kid or two.”

  “You’d be good at it. But why all the think talk? If you want kids, it’s something worth standing for.”

  “Maybe…no.” He shook his head, leaning his elbows on his knees to watch Stanley roll on his back and wallow in all his toys like a sultan. The kid was damn cute in footie pajamas. What person could resist a bundle of energy in footie pajamas?

  “Maybe what? Oh, don’t pull that Coach Barnes crap on me. You can’t use your back-off glare on me, Clayton. Spill.”