“I thought Kelton was supposed to be here.” I rolled my right shoulder back a few times. The soreness was still there.
“He had to get new cleats before tryouts tomorrow. Let’s see what you got, Lacey Robinson,” he said as he covered his head with his ball cap, the bill facing backwards.
I trotted out to the mound, taking a deep breath, then released it along with all thoughts of Tyler and everything else in my life. My sole focus right now was to perfect my pitches.
When I turned, Kross was crouched down into a catcher’s position, ready to go.
I stepped up to the rubber and threw a few balls to loosen up. After a handful of easy throws, I started with my fastball that thudded into Kross’s mitt.
“Not fast enough, Lace. Relax,” he said, throwing the ball back.
I bent my neck to the left then to the right, walked around the mound.
“Find your zone,” my brother had always told me. “Tune everything out and your zone will emerge.”
I hadn’t been in my zone since the last game in my sophomore year. I desperately needed to find it if I was going to make the team. Stepping up on the rubber again, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out. Each time, I visualized every move from my wind-up to my delivery. I opened my eyes, looked down at Kross, glanced over my shoulder at first base like I had a runner on, wound up, and threw a curveball.
“Good,” Kross shot back. “Again.”
I threw several more pitches, each one getting better. I practiced my fastball, curveball, and even my slider. After about thirty minutes, Kross retrieved a bat from his bag near the backstop, then planted his feet into the batter’s box.
“Let me hit a few before we call it quits,” he said, throwing me a ball.
I pitched. He hit or he missed. In all, the ball connected with the bat seven out of twenty pitches. I did a mental jig. It would’ve been nice to gloat about it if it were Kelton. But Kross was nothing like Kelton. No sarcasm. No sexual innuendo. Not even a word about Kade. Which, by the way, I appreciated. I didn’t want any distractions.
Once we had all the balls back in the five-gallon bucket, Kross and I scooped up our bags and headed for his car. The sun dipped lower in the sky. We still had a few hours before night fell.
“So, do you want to go home, or my house to get your car?” he asked, his six-foot frame making long strides.
I did need my car. I had no desire to call Tyler to pick me up tomorrow. I couldn’t rely on Becca unless I called her tonight to give her ample notice. I didn’t want to bug my dad. Mary still had no car. If she needed to go out, she used Dad’s for errands.
“It’s not that hard a question, Lacey.”
Yeah, it was. Would Kade be there?
“Kade isn’t going to bite,” Kross added as we arrived at his red Jeep Wrangler.
I might, though.
He grinned. I noticed he had one dimple on his right cheek.
Wow, did I say that out loud? “My car.”
“That wasn’t so hard.” He set down the bucket of balls in the trunk area.
It kind of was. We both changed out of our cleats. He donned a pair of Nikes. I slipped on my flats. We threw our bags in the back and hopped in.
“Do you mind if I make a quick stop?” He inserted the key into the ignition. “I have to drop off a gun at the club to get it serviced.” He turned the key, and the engine started.
“As in the Ashford Gun Club?”
He nodded as he shifted into gear.
“Are you a member?”
The Jeep jerked every time he shifted gears. “Yeah, we all are. My dad and my brothers.”
How come Kade hadn’t told me? I’d mentioned to him that Dad and I were members. “How come I haven’t seen you guys at the club?” I would’ve noticed these boys for sure.
“You belong?” Stubble dotted his angular jaw.
“You mean Kade hasn’t told you? Don’t answer that.” Not that my membership at the gun club was a secret. But I had one secret I didn’t want anyone to know, and I still didn’t know if Kade had told them about my panic attacks.
The passing landscape whizzed by even through the side streets of Ashford. Kross drove aggressively. My body jerked several times when he went around corners, and an uneasy feeling settled within me.
“So, Kross—why were you guys protecting Mandy Shear?” I figured this would be a great time to ask one of the sources since we weren’t on school grounds.
He slowed behind a car that was turning into a driveway. “Who told you that?” His head jerked toward me as he gave the Jeep some gas.
“Coach Dean. What did he mean?”
“She was dating Kody.” He shifted, his biceps flexing. “We’re protective of our friends, Lacey, especially ones who are more than friends.”
“Oh.” I hugged myself as tears stung my eyes. Kody had lost his girlfriend. Was her death the reason why he was seeing Dr. Davis?
“You all right?” Kross asked, his voice sounding faraway.
“Yep.” Nope. I felt for Kody as I tried to keep the tears from spilling over. Death of a loved one sucked.
I didn’t have too long to mourn before Kross slammed on the brakes as he pulled up in front of the weathered, one-story wood building. The Ashford Rod and Gun Club had a high A-frame pitched roof. The place reminded me of the Los Angeles Country Club that we’d belonged to in LA—both offered space for weddings and other events, and had a members’ lounge and a restaurant.
Several cars were parked in the lot. I wasn’t surprised. The place was always busy as it had a youth program, several gun and archery leagues, and both an indoor and an outdoor shooting range. A group of men were gathering their gun cases and supplies from a trunk while a young lady scurried past them, tying her apron behind her. She was probably late for her shift.
Kross turned off the engine. “I should only be a couple of minutes.”
“I’ll grab a drink in the restaurant.” Or maybe try to find my stomach, which I’d left on the road somewhere.
We climbed out. Kross retrieved a small metal box from his trunk.
“What kind of gun?” I asked as we headed for the entrance.
“Glock. It hasn’t been serviced in a long time. We have a competition coming up in another month.” He held the door open for me.
“You’re in a league here?” I asked over my shoulder as I walked in.
“Yeah, Kody, Kelton and Kade too,” he said like I was supposed to know this. “You should join a league.”
Dad and I had checked into a league, but I was still learning. Maybe after tryouts I would consider it.
I banked left into the restaurant as Kross continued down the hall to the shooting range. A heavy dose of grease permeated the air. My stomach growled.
“Hey, darlin’,” Jackie said as she came up to the hostess’s podium. “Are you here all by yourself?” Her reddish-blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She worked on Sundays too, when Dad and I came in for breakfast before hitting the range.
“No. I’m waiting for a friend. He had to drop off his gun at the range. Can I get a Coke?”
“Come on. Sit at the bar.”
The restaurant was set up with booths along the left and back wall of windows, square tables and chairs over the middle of the room, and a mahogany bar at an angle on the right as I walked in. Aside from a couple of men sitting in the corner booth, the place was empty. It wasn’t quite dinnertime yet.
I followed Jackie over and sat in a bar chair.
“Pete, can you get Lacey a Coke?” Pete was a tall man, dark haired with streaks of gray throughout. “So who’s the ‘he’ you’re here with?”
“Kross Maxwell.”
“Ah, one of the triplets.” She sighe
d. “If only I were younger.” I’d guess Jackie was in her thirties. Her bronze eyes flickered with excitement.
Pete placed a glass of soda in front of me.
“You know the Maxwells?” I asked, taking a swig of soda.
“Lacey, when you work here as long as I do, you know everyone.” She picked up a knife and started cutting lemons and limes on a small wooden cutting board.
“How well do you know them?” I felt like a detective today, after asking Coach and Kross questions. It wasn’t exactly the get-to-know-you game Dr. Davis wanted me to play.
She laughed. “Which one do you like?”
I shook my head. “None of them.”
“Lacey, are you telling me you don’t like any of them?” She stopped cutting the fruit, a disbelieving look on her face.
Heat pinched my cheeks. Was I that obvious? “I might like Kade,” I said, my voice low.
“The mature one.” Her bronze eyes lit up as if I said the right answer. “Also the one who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.”
“What do you mean?” I tore apart a napkin.
“There’s a ton of anger and sadness brewing in him. I can see it in his eyes.”
“Why the sadness?” I agreed Kade carried some anger, which probably stemmed from Greg Sullivan. He also had regret written over his face today when he apologized to me.
“According to his dad, Kade closed himself off after the accident.”
“Huh?” I sat back in my chair. Was she talking about Mandy? But Mandy had been Kody’s girlfriend. If anyone carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, that would be Kody.
“Not my story to tell, darlin’.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Kross talking to an old, bald-headed man. “I should go. How much do I owe for the soda?” I’d forgotten my purse in the car.
“It’s on the house,” Jackie said.
I thanked her then went out to meet Kross. The old man he’d been talking to patted him on the back before disappearing into the club. We walked in silence to his Jeep. I wanted to ask Kross about what Jackie had mentioned, but I didn’t know how without sounding like a nosy person. I didn’t like when people pried into my life.
“Is something bothering you?” Kross asked as we got in the Jeep.
Lots of things. “No.”
Anything I had on my mind quickly vanished as Kross drove like a maniac to his house. By the time we parked in front of his garage, I wanted to puke. “Drive much?” My stomach fell out the window somewhere between the club and there.
His lone dimple emerged as he grinned. Asshat.
I clicked off my seatbelt as Kross hightailed it out of the Jeep. I thought he took off until he opened my door. “Sorry, Lacey. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He held out his hand.
I laughed. “I’m not sure I can walk.”
“Do I have to carry you?”
God, no. I took his offered hand and slowly put two feet on the ground. When I did, the world tilted. “Can I use your bathroom?” I needed to collect myself before I got back on the road.
I held onto Kross as we made our way toward the deck. As the world around me righted itself, I glanced back. The only car in the driveway was his. Kade’s truck could be parked in the garage. It didn’t matter. I desperately needed to use the bathroom, and I had a feeling I wasn’t getting my car without seeing Kade. Letting go of Kross, I climbed the steps to the deck. He slid the glass door to the left and a sweet smell of chocolate floated out. Was their mother home? Intrigue drew me into the kitchen. The room was empty save for a cookie sheet on the stove.
Kross followed me in, closing the door. “Kody likes to bake,” he said, answering the question I had been about to ask. What was it with Kross answering my thoughts? “Take a left out of the kitchen and the guest bathroom is down the hall on the right.”
Skirting the kitchen island, I went down the hall, following Kross’s instructions, and locked the bathroom door behind me. I stood there for a moment, glancing at myself in the large oval mirror that hung over the sink and almost gasped. My skin was ashen, thanks to Kross’s driving. Strands of hair stuck out from my ponytail, and a sheen of sweat coated my neck—not to mention that I looked like a ragamuffin with my T-shirt dirty from me wiping my hands on it at the ball field. I splashed water on my face and patted it dry with a small brown hand towel, then I pulled out my ponytail and combed my fingers through my hair.
“Okay, now get out of here, and go home,” I said to myself in the mirror. Following my own instructions, I unlocked the door and went back the way I came.
I’d only taken three steps when Kade’s familiar, thigh-squeezing voice said, from behind me, “Lace?”
I froze. “Thanks for fixing my car.”
I lifted a leaden foot when his voice glided over me like butter. “Can we talk?” he asked. I eased my foot down as his shoes scuffed on the wood floor.
The last time he’d said he wanted to talk, he kissed me. “I should go. Do you have my keys?” The funny thing was, my legs wouldn’t move.
His arms came around to settle on my stomach. He pressed his nose against the side of my neck. “Please.”
“I’m only here for my car.” My muscles tensed. I looked like shit. I probably smelled worse since I’d been sweating during practice.
Heavy footsteps scuffled in the kitchen before a shadow crawled up the floor in the hall. “Goddamn, these cookies are good,” one of the triplets said. A glass clinked on what sounded like the granite top.
“You’re a pig, Kelton,” Kross said. Or at least I thought it was Kross, since I’d left him in the kitchen.
I smiled. I wouldn’t mind trying one myself. But I was tethered to a very muscled body while my mind and body waged a war on the theme of “Should I stay and listen, or get my keys and go?” How do I learn to trust? Give him a chance. That’s the only way. “Where are my keys?”
His breath fanned my ear, light and feathery, causing a spark to ignite within me. “I have them.”
My body was so close to molding to his. “Are you bribing me, Kade?”
“If that gets you to stay, then yes.”
Well played. “Just talk.”
“Not here,” he whispered. “Let’s go to my room.”
“Yeah. No.” His room spelled all kinds of disaster—at least for me. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate or listen to what he had to say.
“Do you want to hear Kelton’s mouth? If he doesn’t know you’re here, he won’t bug me.”
“Can’t we go outside?”
“Not without passing by or through the kitchen.”
“Fine.” I didn’t want to deal with Kelton, and I wanted my keys.
“This way,” he said as he tugged on my hand.
I turned and followed like a good little pup. After we turned a corner, an open doorway came into view. A happy, nervous pitter-patter beat against my ribs at the thought of us alone in his room—a more intimate setting.
He went in. I stayed out. The scent of cedar drifted into the hall, and I shuddered.
“Come in,” Kade said. “We’ll talk, then I’ll take you out to your car.”
I stepped over the threshold onto a beige carpet. Neutral tans colored the walls. Two wooden nightstands flanked his bed along the right-hand wall. Over his bed hung a large poster of Zeal’s cover album, and aside from books strewn over his desk, the rest of his room, including a dresser and a chair, was immaculate.
He closed the door before propping his shoulder against it and scanning my face. I crossed my arms over my chest. Silence expanded in the room like a balloon slowly being filled with air.
“So talk,” I said, popping the balloon.
“I screwed up. But you have to understand that my brothers and I are t
ight. We look out for one another.”
I tightened my arms around me. “If you want to get to know me, Kade, trust is the one thing I value most. I told you how hard it was for me to tell you I was seeing a shrink. I’m not getting into another relationship with anyone unless he has my complete trust.”
“Would you give me another chance?”
Sometimes in life, people needed second chances. Dad’s words came to mind. I knew I needed one to show ASU I could make the effort to get back on my feet. Without their consideration, I wasn’t sure where I’d be with my PTSD.
“One,” I said, pinning him with my gaze. Maybe I wanted to give myself the second chance with him.
Pushing off from the door, Kade closed the distance between us. He stared down at me as though he didn’t know what to do next.
I flattened my hand on his chest. Slowly, I traced a path from one side to the other, feeling hard muscle under the soft cotton of his T-shirt. He groaned, drawing my attention upward to meet his gaze. Desire sparked in his eyes, causing my stomach to flip-flop several times in a matter of seconds.
Gently, he grasped my shoulders as he walked me backward, slowly and surely until the backs of my legs hit his bed. If I’d wanted to run, I didn’t have a chance. His entire body held me prisoner. Even just his sultry gaze locked me in. All I could do was drop down onto the soft mattress.
He took hold of my right leg, keeping me mesmerized. Lifting my foot, he removed my shoe, dropping it to the floor with a soft thud. Without missing a beat, he slid his hands down my left leg until his callused palm met bare skin at my ankle. He rubbed his thumb over the top of my foot, back and forth, sending a string of tingles up my leg. Then he flipped off my other shoe. “Scoot back,” he said in a raspy voice.
I did, as the blood thrummed through me at sprinter speed. He kicked off his shoes then crawled up, straddling me with his hands on each side of my head. His hair fell forward, and I tangled my fingers in the soft strands.
A deep sound rumbled from him. He leaned down and traced the seam of my lips with his tongue. Then he nipped, demanding access. I whimpered, parting my lips, and his tongue slithered in. At first, he explored as though he were trying to memorize every taste bud. When I whimpered again, he shifted and yanked me closer. He was hard and ready, and I squirmed against him.
The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 17