by Tessa Bailey
“You think I managed to miss that you’re a cheerleader?” he growled, settling his hands on her butt, squeezing tight. “I know every time you shake your ass, every time you give some cocksucker in the crowd that smile. You’re the reason they’re all hiding their laps under balled-up sweatshirts, little girl. I feel everything you’re doing, even when my eyes are on the field. So remind me again you’re a cheerleader.”
She sucked in a winded breath, courtesy of his words knocking the oxygen clear of her lungs. He’d never been like this before…and she loved it. Loved knowing he cared enough to covet her. “Why don’t I give you a private cheer? None of those sweatshirt douchebags ever gets one of those, you lucky man, you.” She reached back and took one of Elliott’s kneading hands off her backside, leading him from the kitchen, guiding him into one of the dining room chairs.
Good Lord, the way he filled up the seat, powerful arms crossed, those tree trunk thighs extended and spread. So challenging. But the gray sweatpants he wore did nothing to hide how turned on he was, and that made Peggy confident.
Eyes on Elliott, Peggy grabbed the hem of her dress and slid the material up and over her head, tossing it to the side and leaving herself clad in nothing but panties. By the time Elliott came back into view, his arms had uncrossed, his jaw set in a rigid line as he shifted in the chair, obviously made uncomfortable by that almost cumbersome erection pointing straight up at his waistband.
Peggy turned, giving the coach her back, watching him over her shoulder, raising both arms in the air and clapping her hands together. Once. “We are the Bearcats and we want to win.” With a hip roll, she turned, sliding into the V of his thighs, smiling as he sucked in a winded breath. “We did it once before and we can do it again,” she continued, holding his knees for balance as she dipped down low and rose slowly, slowly, bumping her hips sharply to one side, and then the other, until Elliott finally gave in, reaching into his sweatpants, his hand moving in vigorous strokes. “Please don't make us mad. ’Cause we'll get nasty and mean,” she whispered against his mouth, before licking at the parted seam. “And we just might decide to roll over your team.”
Her back landed on the kitchen table a split second later, Elliott grunting above her as he shoved down his sweatpants, ripped off her underwear, and rammed home with a shout. “Christ. Christ, what you do to me. It’s the devil’s work.” He mounted her body, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. “When a man loses control of one part of his life, all others follow. All others.”
“And I’m the catalyst?” Peggy whispered, her voice shaking. “Guess you better punish me for it.”
When his hips gave that first rude pump, she felt it up in her throat, choking her and setting her free, all at once.
* * *
Elliott ground his fist against the concrete pillar of his garage, hoping like hell he would break something. Shatter his knuckles or rip the skin clean off. Anything to distract him from the machete making crisscross marks on his insides. His teeth gnashed inside his head, the sound sickening, but nothing could cause his stomach to rebel more than Peggy’s cab pulling up outside. The cab he’d called her five minutes ago. The one that would take her to the airport.
“This is so stupid, Elliott,” she half screamed, half sobbed across the garage. “It’s just a visit to California to see friends and then I’m coming right back.”
“You graduated last week,” he ground out, conjuring the coldest of words, knowing they were the only way to make her see reason, make her leave. “There’s nothing left for you to return to. No school, no job. Nothing.”
Betrayal hung in the air, so thick it clouded his vision of her. “You’re really going to do this? Act like we were nothing?” She kicked at her overnight bag. “This is like that scene in Harry and the Hendersons when they shout mean things at Harry so he’ll go back and live in the wild with the other Yetis where he belongs.”
He stared at her in probable disbelief, but inside he was fighting a battle not to take the three long strides that would put her in his arms.
“I make jokes when I’m upset.” She tucked a group of curls behind her ear. “You should know this about me by now.”
“I do,” he responded tightly. “I do know that, because I give you plenty of reasons to be sad around me.” No. No, he’d given her an opening to protest with that one. His resolve was slipping in the face of the reality of her actually climbing into the cab and never coming back. The only thing that made his blood flow and heat and pulse. His life force. She was leaving and he was the one sending her away. Behind her lay the driveway, the spot where his wife had been found lifeless while he’d been inside his own head, not sparing her a thought. Living with himself would be impossible if Peggy ended up the same way. Miserable, alone…hurt… “I knew going in this was going to be temporary. You were a senior. You weren’t going to be sticking around and asking me for more.”
Had she ever been so pale? Pale but still his courageous Peggy, through and through. Headstrong and demanding and gorgeous. “I didn’t know what this was going to evolve into, either, but you’re full of shit if you’re telling me it isn’t worth keeping.”
“You can’t put a name to it, either.” Elliott’s scoff ripped a hole in his throat. “Did you think maybe you’d make a good stepmother?”
She floundered. “I—I hadn’t thought that far ahead…”
Yes, she had. He could see it in the sudden pink of her cheeks, the way she couldn’t meet his eyes, her defensive posture. God. How fucked up that his love for her should swell to an unbearable degree when he was stamping an end date on their relationship? I can’t give you what you need, he wanted to shout, but she would protest and they would end up back inside, kissing and fucking and making up, just like the last ten times he’d tried to create distance between them. This time it had to be permanent, because the alternative was this beautiful woman building her life around the ruins of his. “I’m standing here telling you I want it over, Peggy, and it’s not because I like the tears and drama. These arguments you insist on making are childish, and they’re only delaying the inevitable.”
“Childish?” She reared back like a backhand had caught her across the face. “You’re the one too afraid to admit what’s really scaring you.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You’re scared of feeling anything you don’t understand,” she whispered. “I might be childish, but you’re a fucking coward.”
She was right. God knew she was. But the more his love…yes, love…for Peggy grew, the more tortured he felt about neglecting the one who came before. He hated the constant flux of happiness and self-disgust. It tore at him day and night. It was going to wreck Peggy for the world if he continued to keep her to himself, surrounding her in his misery. “When I look at you, Peggy, I see my guilt.” Her eyes lost their color in degrees, mutilating his insides. “I see the wrongs in my past. My sins. I can’t do it…” To you. “I won’t do it anymore.”
With that final shot hanging between them, Peggy gave him one last devastated look, picked up her bag, and went to meet the cab. Sobs shook her shoulders. A shout for her to come back rose in his throat like an expanding fist, so he pressed and pressed his hand into the concrete pillar, feeling the destruction of flesh at the same time his chest started to collapse. The cab door slammed. He watched it drive away with a scream careening through the landscape of his mind, changing its formation, and as soon as it was out of sight, Elliott got into his truck and drove to church. At least the chanting of the prayers helped drown out the horror.
Chapter Eighteen
One would think a sleepless night would have left Peggy lacking energy, but it turned out, setting up an online auction with twelve items valued at over five thousand dollars apiece? Well, it was pretty damn satisfying. E-mails pinged on Peggy’s phone every few minutes, letting her know another one of Elliott’s—the Kingmaker’s—players had pledged an item to be donated. Autographed helmets, jerseys signed by entire S
uper Bowl–winning teams, game balls.
Until the wee hours of the morning, she and Belmont had reached out via e-mails and phone calls—depending on the player’s geographical location—with an explanation of Kyler’s plight. Understandably, the professional players had reacted with out-and-out horror at the idea of their revered coach’s star receiver being sidelined by his family issues, and generosity had poured out of them. Sage had woken up around six in the morning and stumbled into the hall, demanding that Peggy and Belmont come inside and continue, along with her assistance. True to form, the wedding planner had surpassed them in productivity after merely an hour. But ask Peggy if she was upset.
Hell nope. She was…revitalized.
It had been a long time since she’d felt so useful. Since she’d looked at the fruits of her labor and been proud to be a part of making something extraordinary happen. Had she ever gotten that warm, crowded feeling in her throat as a personal shopper? No. Even when someone looked truly boss in an outfit she’d styled, there was only a passing specter of satisfaction that sailed on as soon as it appeared.
What if she didn’t have to be a personal shopper once she reached New York? Sure, that had been the plan, but securing the same job she’d had in San Diego would feel like hopping back into the holding pattern in which she’d lived for three years. Raising funds for good causes wouldn’t allow her college degree to collect dust on the shelf anymore. She could finally put it to use.
Peggy took a deep breath and allowed herself to smile as she, Belmont, and Sage exited the hotel, to-go coffees in hand, intending to scavenge up some breakfast. They were all sick to death of hotel food at this point, and Peggy had remembered a little hole-in-the-wall from her college days that made the most insane pancakes—
Elliott’s appearance on the sidewalk ground her progress to a halt. Belmont and Sage moved to flank her on either side, as if they were a fearsome trio heading into battle. But apart from the definite flutter of feminine appreciation she experienced over a fresh-from-the-shower Elliott in jeans and a thick, gray, cable-knit sweater, she didn’t need reinforcements. She was just fine on her own. There wasn’t a woman alive that wouldn’t get a down-low tug at the picture he painted. Half distinguished, half rough, all male and very intently focused. On her.
Been there, done that, and stole the T-shirt, babe. This ship has set sail.
“I got this,” she murmured to Belmont and Sage, putting a little extra swing in her walk as she approached the coach. “Greetings, Elliott.”
“Peggy.” His hard gaze swept up her skinny jeans, lingering at her hips, before completing the final journey to her eyes. And okay, the chemical reaction that fired off was just as normal as admitting she found him attractive. Nothing to see here. “How are you this morning?”
“Fine as ever.” She heard another ping go off in her jacket pocket and breathed through a smile. “The online auction for Kyler is getting ready to start and we still have donations rolling in. E-mails are going out from the university this morning to major news outlets, letting the public know about the items and—”
“Peggy, it’s too late.” His face was grave. “I got a call from Kyler early this morning. The foreclosure is this afternoon.” He stepped closer, reaching out and letting his hand drop. “I’m sorry, baby. All this work you put in—”
“Don’t call me baby…out in the daytime like this.” The admonishment sounded incredibly lame, even to her own ears, but she was reeling. No. No way were they too late. They’d worked so fast and it couldn’t all be for just nothing. Heat pressed against the inside of her eyelids, the paper cup of hotel coffee all but forgotten in her hand. “What if we drive there and stop it ourselves? Items will have sold by then…we could have enough to hold them off. Once they see the potential to have the debt paid without evicting anyone, they’ll postpone.”
She felt frozen, standing there waiting for Elliott to make another placating statement. It was a good try, Peggy. You did your best, kiddo. Instead, he nodded and held up his car keys, jerking his head toward the truck idling at the curb. “If you think it’s worth a shot, I’ll drive.”
The world tilted. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll drive,” he repeated, his voice like gravel. “The university e-mails already went out and one of them landed in my in-box. Lord, Peggy, what you managed to do overnight…” He shook his head. “We’re not letting that go to waste. Not without trying.”
“Oh.” At a loss, she twirled a curl around her finger and swore Elliott’s eyes went soft. But that couldn’t be right. What the hell was going on here? A minute ago, her main focus had been pancakes, and now it felt like she’d stepped into a bizarre dream where nothing made sense.
Before she could address Elliott’s odd behavior out loud, the truck’s door opened and Alice stepped out, hands shoved into her hoodie pockets. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Peggy returned, the ground shifting beneath her feet. A voice in the back of her mind told her to flee. She’d just found her way clear of Elliott’s grasp and now he was here, looking at her in a new, discerning way and apparently flipping the script.
And she did not want it flipped. She was done.
If it weren’t for the project she’d taken on for Kyler, she would have turned on a heel and gone for pancakes. Left them right there in the dust, even if it would bother her to be cold to Alice. But there was something bigger than the rubble of her broken heart at stake. Something much larger. Not only saving someone’s dream, someone’s family…but finding out if she was capable of a new one as well.
“I’ll ride with Bel and Sage,” Peggy said finally, stepping away from an Elliott who looked determined to drag her back. So she held up a hand, warding him off. “We’ll follow you.”
Just before they pulled away from the hotel—Elliott and Alice in the truck, the rest of them in the Suburban—Peggy caught Elliott’s eye in the rearview and saw a promise there. One that said they weren’t finished just yet.
Peggy made sure he saw how much she disagreed.
Chapter Nineteen
Peggy. What’s up?”
The moment Aaron’s brisk greeting landed in Peggy’s ears, she felt more stable. Something she hadn’t been since Elliott’s odd behavior back at the hotel. Before the road trip had started out in California, saying Aaron chilled her out would have been laughable, despite them being the closest of any Clarkson siblings. Calling them close, however, would have been pushing it. They’d been comfortable enough to be alone in the same room, which didn’t sound like much to normal, functional siblings, but to a Clarkson, it symbolized a rare, unspoken bond.
Since setting out in the Suburban together on this crazy wish-fulfilling journey to New York, the dynamic among the four siblings had shifted. It couldn’t be her imagination, could it? Maybe the sense of camaraderie other families felt would never exist for the Clarksons, but if she could feel her stomach settle just hearing Aaron’s sharp, all-business tone, maybe when their common mission was over, they would have accomplished more than jumping into the Atlantic and freezing their asses off.
Yes, she was the youngest and, by default, the most naïve of the bunch. But dammit, wanting your family to feel free to look one another in the eye, without the fear they would burst into flames…that wasn’t so far-fetched, was it? The day of Miriam’s funeral, she’d sensed them splitting apart at the seams and could do nothing to stop it. She’d idolized her siblings during her youth, so losing faith in them had been particularly hurtful. They were slowly gluing the pieces back together, though, restoring her confidence in them—and maybe even herself.
Okay, maybe Aaron’s greeting hadn’t calmed her as much as she’d originally thought, because she still hadn’t answered him, having been thrown for a serious loop back at the hotel. She’d only managed last night to reduce the mountain located in her belly down to a mole hill. No peaks or jagged outcroppings, just smooth and manageable. But one determined look from Elliott had caused an erosion. Not of her wil
lpower. Oh no. But the relief that came with the decision to finally move on didn’t feel quite so solid now.
“Hey, Aaron,” Peggy pushed out. “How’s the camp rebuilding going?”
His voice warmed immediately, even though his characteristic briskness remained. People didn’t change one hundred percent overnight, even if a rebellious politician’s daughter had caused a transformation in her brother no one had seen coming. “Well. Really well. Grace posted a video on her father’s website asking for volunteers and now we’re turning people away. She’s…” He blew a breath down the line. “She’s magnetic. I spend most of the day staring at her, like some kind of thick-skulled Neanderthal.” A short pause. “Unfortunately, everyone else does, too, so I spend the rest of my time reminding her she’s never getting rid of me.”
Peggy had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep a squeak from flying out. Slowly, she let her arm drop. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Why are you calling?” He shouted a direction at someone in the background. “I’m surprised it took you three this long to need my invaluable advice.”
And it bothered him, didn’t it? Just a touch, maybe, but considering she never would have been able to sense that regret in him before the road trip, she decided to chalk it up to progress. “Huh. Well, it’s kind of a long story.”
“When is it not?”
“Yeah.” Through the front windshield, she watched Elliott’s truck change lanes on the four-lane highway and wondered—not for the first time—what father and daughter were talking about. And what that glance from Elliott in the rearview had meant. “There’s a football player here in Cincinnati—”
“Jesus, Peggy. This is about a road hookup?”
“No! Not a hookup.” Belmont sighed in the driver’s seat. “And by the way, you’d be one to talk. I seem to remember freezing my ass off in the woods last week to help build Grace’s memorial.”