She knew what was coming and waited, knowing the exquisite sensations his tongue could elicit. And then, he was there, sucking gently, making her writhe with the need for release.
She’d meant to tell him about Sam, but as her pleasure began to escalate, all thoughts of her former life dissolved. She was here with Brody now, and what they were doing was perfect. Nothing could possibly spoil it.
BRODY WINCED as he pushed up from a crouch and ran the width of the field. Though he was in pretty good shape, he hadn’t really run full out since before his accident. When he reached the far side of the field, he gulped in a deep breath, then turned and ran back.
The scout scribbled something in his notebook, then nodded. “I understand your injury prevents lateral movement.”
“Not prevents,” Brody said. “Hampers. I’m just not as quick as I was. But it doesn’t affect my kicking. You saw that. I put ten of them through the posts from fifty meters. I can do ten more. Hey, I can kick all day and I won’t miss.”
“But you’ll have to run and tackle,” he said. “And even though we have a rule against roughing the kicker, you will get knocked down. That knee isn’t going to take much abuse.”
“I know I can do this,” Brody said. “Just give me a chance. I’ll come to the States. I’ll kick in your football stadium. I’ll play for free.”
The scout considered Brody’s offer, then nodded his head. “You’re a hell of a kicker. But I’m worried about the knee. The strength just isn’t quite there. But you do some serious work and that might change. You should be running every day and doing some intense weight training. The NFL preseason starts the end of July. If a team is in need of a kicker, they’ll be looking before the regular season begins in September.” He held out his business card. “You call me after a month and we’ll see where you’re at.”
Brody stared down at the card. “All right. I can do that. Thanks for taking the time.”
“Good luck, son. I hope I hear from you.”
Brody walked toward the exit, resigned to the fact that he’d given it his best try. Hell, he’d kicked well. No one could quarrel with that. But his knee wasn’t what it should be. Even he knew it. He drew a deep breath, trying to push back the disappointment.
Though it wasn’t good news, it wasn’t really bad. He had a chance, if he put in a little work. He still had access to the team’s training facilities and their physical therapists. Given a month, maybe he could gain more strength.
As he walked through the tunnel to the car park, he saw Payton standing in the entrance, her slender form outlined by the morning sun. She smiled and he felt his spirits rise. Even if the world was falling apart at his feet, she could still make him feel like a hero.
“How did it go?” she asked as he took her hand in his.
“I kicked well,” he said. “But he didn’t like the look of my knee.”
“Well, you expected that,” she said.
“He said I should work harder on rehab and then give him a call in a month.”
“Are you going to do that?” she asked.
Brody shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It would give me more options.” He smiled. “I can kick the damn ball. At least the next time one of their kickers goes down, he’ll be thinking of me.”
They drove back to his apartment, his mind distracted by the traffic. Every now and then, he caught Payton glancing over at him. He wanted to tell her how he was feeling—the frustration and the doubts—but his problems were his own. This afternoon, they’d find something to do that would take his mind off his troubles. And tomorrow, he’d figure out a plan.
As they drove up to the apartment, he reached out and took her hand. “Why don’t we go surfing this afternoon.” He looked over at her to see her gaze fixed on a car parked across the street from his building.
“What’s wrong?”
“Keep driving,” she said.
“Why? We need to get our gear if we’re going surfing.”
“Just keep going.”
He did as he was told. After a few blocks, Brody drove in to an empty parking spot and pulled the truck out of gear. Then he turned to her. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?”
She gnawed at her lower lip, avoiding his eyes. “Yesterday, after I came back from the market, I saw Sam. My ex. He was parked in front of your apartment building waiting for me.”
Brody felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. This didn’t make sense. “You talked to Sam?”
She nodded, then risked a glance over at him. “I wanted to tell you yesterday, but you had the tryout today and I didn’t want you to be upset. Besides, when I got home we got distracted and I guess I just forgot.”
“You forgot?”
“Well, not exactly. It wasn’t the right time.”
“Which is it, Payton?”
She cursed softly. “What difference does it make? I’m telling you now. He asked if I’d come home. I told him no.”
“Then what’s he still doing here?”
“I guess he thinks I might change my mind.”
Brody’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “And will you change your mind?”
“No,” Payton insisted. “I don’t want to marry him. I told him that. But he doesn’t like to lose. And he certainly doesn’t like to be embarrassed. He and my parents seem to think I’ve had some sort of mental breakdown and that if I just get a little help, I’ll regain my senses.”
“We’re going back,” Brody said. “I’ll talk to the guy. I’ll tell him to back off.”
“No,” Payton said. “This is my problem. I’ll—”
“It’s my problem now. He’s screwing with my life.”
“I know where he’s staying. I’ll call him tonight and tell him to go home. And I’ll call my parents and let them know I’m going to stay in Australia for now.”
Brody didn’t like leaving it up to Payton. She’d obviously tried to convince Sam the first time they’d talked and it hadn’t worked. Either Sam wasn’t listening or she hadn’t been forceful enough. But there would be no denying Brody’s argument—either the guy would leave Fremantle immediately, or Brody would give him a thick ear.
“So what does this mean? We can’t go back to the apartment?”
“Why don’t we go get some lunch and maybe he’ll be gone when we return.” She reached out and pried his hand off the wheel, then laced her fingers through his. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’m not very good with confrontation.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve told me off plenty of times.”
“It’s different with my family and with Sam. They make me feel—” Payton searched for the word “—small. They make me feel small.”
He turned to look at her, noticing the uneasy expression on her face. Hell, he never wanted to do anything that made her feel that way. “You’re one of the strongest, most determined people I know,” he said. “Don’t let them do that to you. Think of everything you’ve done over the past weeks.”
Brody paused, carefully considering his next suggestion. He was tired of all the wondering—did she love him, would she stay, how did she really feel about Sam? There were too many unanswered questions that she had to settle once and for all. “I think you should go see him,” Brody said.
“Really?”
“Why not? He was an important person in your life. Hell, you were going to marry him. Maybe he just needs some…what do they call that?”
“Closure?” she suggested.
“Right. Closure.”
A long silence grew between them. “All right,” she said softly. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go see him tomorrow.”
It wasn’t exactly what he wanted. But it was the quickest way to get to what he wanted. And for that, he was willing to take a risk. He’d give Sam Whitman one last chance to plead his case and if he didn’t leave after that, Brody would personally escort him to the airport.
He wasn’t about to let Payton
go. At least, not without a good fight.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?”
Brody frowned, staring down at the assortment of towels. He winced, then ran his hand through his hair. Payton could see the confusion in his eyes, but she suspected it had nothing to do with his choice of towels.
Payton had called Sam and agreed to meet him the next morning. Since she’d made the decision, she and Brody hadn’t spoken of it. In truth, she’d carefully avoided the subject. But she could see that it was killing Brody. He’d been hovering over her all day, obviously wanting to ask her what she would say, but afraid to bring up the subject.
“Ah…well, they’re towels,” he said. “I’ve never really had an opinion on towels. They’re just sort of there when I need them.” He nodded. “That’s what I think.”
“I mean the colors. Your bathroom is so neutral.”
“Is it? What does that mean?”
He was going to make this difficult, Payton mused. She’d wondered if buying new towels for him was really a good idea. But she wanted to contribute something to the home they’d made together, even if it did mean spending a bit of his money. “Neutral means there’s a lack of color.”
“And color is good?”
“Yes. Now, do you like the ice blue or the burnt sienna? These are both masculine colors, but one is cool and the other is warm. I like the burnt sienna.”
“Then I like that one, too. Don’t I have towels?”
“Yes. But they’re a little worn. And they’re kind of mismatched. I just thought these would be pretty. And they’re really soft. One hundred percent Egyptian cotton.” He nodded mutely. Frustrated, Payton picked up the towels and shoved them back into the bag. “Never mind. I’ll return them.”
“No, no. Don’t do that. I like them. I like the burnt sienna. And the blue, too. Maybe we could keep both. One color for summer and one for winter. Cool and warm, right?”
Payton gave him a grudging smile. “I just thought I could make your apartment look a little more homey.”
“It doesn’t look homey?”
She shook her head. “No. It looks like a bachelor’s apartment. It’s very nice, but very sterile. And if we’re going to live here together, then I want it to be like a home.”
A slow smile curled his lips. “A home. With me and you.”
“Yes. I like it here.”
“Is there anything else that needs fixing?” he asked.
“Well, the kitchen could use some nice towels. And a few accessories, maybe a bowl for the island, for fresh fruit. And some nice wineglasses to put in the china cabinet. Those refrigerator magnets have to go.”
Brody chuckled softly. Then he dragged her into his arms, kissing her squarely on the mouth. “Do whatever you want,” he said. “As long as you’re staying, you can paint the place pink. And if you need more money, just ask.”
She’d been thinking about exactly that subject. She wanted to contribute, to help pay for their living expenses. “I’m going to try to find a job,” she said. “And to get a job, I suspect I’ll need a work visa.”
“We can think about that later. I have cash enough to last for a while.”
“No, I want to contribute,” she said.
“Then let’s find out about a work visa.” Brody reached out and removed the towels from the bag, stacking them up on the coffee table. “We’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.”
Payton forced a smile. “I’m going to see Sam tomorrow morning. Remember?” She studied his expression. He didn’t look happy. But then, he hadn’t been very happy since Sam had appeared in Fremantle.
“We should go try out these towels,” she said. “Let’s take a shower.”
Brody shook his head. “You think that if you seduce me, I’ll stop worrying about him?”
“There’s no need to worry,” she assured him. “Brody, I’m decorating your apartment. I wouldn’t do that unless I was planning to stay.”
“He’s leaving tomorrow?”
“That’s what he said,” Payton replied.
“Good. Then, day after, we can stop talking about him.” He pushed her back on the sofa and crawled on top of her, rubbing his nose against hers. “Do you have a nice dress?”
“Not really.”
“Then, go out and buy one. We’re going out to a swank place tomorrow night for dinner. It’s my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me?” Payton asked. “I’ll make a cake. We’ll have presents and a celebration.”
“I just want to take my girl out,” Brody said.
His girl. She liked the sound of that. It wasn’t too serious. Yet, it did suggest a real relationship, one that was more than casual. “I’m not sure where to go to find something.”
“There’s a David Jones in the mall in Perth. It’s the same store you went to in Brisbane.”
“They have really pretty dresses there.” She kissed him. “I’ll go this afternoon. You can come and help me pick something out.”
“Surprise me,” he said. Brody brushed the hair out of her eyes. “When is your birthday?”
“August tenth,” she said. “I was born twelve minutes before midnight.”
Payton realized they didn’t know the little details about each other’s lives. Maybe it was time to find out. “What’s your favorite color?” she asked.
“Neutral,” he teased. “No, it was blue. But now, it’s this really pretty shade of pink.” Brody smiled. “Exactly the color of your lips.”
Payton groaned inwardly. Her attempt to learn more about him was swiftly turning into a full-out seduction. But then, they had plenty of time to go over the silly little details. “What is your favorite sexual fantasy?” she asked.
He laughed sharply. “How did we go from colors to sexual fantasies?”
Payton shrugged. “Just curious.”
He thought about his answer for a long time, then smiled. “There is this one. I’m asleep and I’m having this dream that there’s a woman in bed with me. And she’s doing all kinds of wonderful things with her lips and her tongue. And I open my eyes and it’s not a dream.”
“Has it ever happened before?” Payton asked.
“No,” he said.
“Your birthday is coming up. That could be arranged, you know.”
“Arranged? Only if you’re the woman I’m waking up to. I’d reckon that would be a bonzer prezzy.”
“Bonzer is good?”
“Very good. Great. Incredible. The best.”
“Hmm. That’s a lot to live up to. Maybe I should just buy you a bonzer watch. Or a bonzer shirt.”
“Do not tease me,” he said. “It’s my birthday. And as my girl, it’s your job to treat me special.”
Payton giggled. “It’s not your birthday yet.” Now that she’d decided to stay, she had every intention of making all Brody’s fantasies come true. Life—and sex—with Brody would be one long adventure.
9
THE BUZZER ON the security system startled Brody. Payton had left less than an hour ago to shop for a dress for tomorrow’s birthday celebration. He hadn’t expected her to return until just before dinner.
He pushed the button and leaned in. “Did you forget your key?”
There was a long pause on the other end. “I’m looking for Brody Quinn.”
“And who might you be?” Brody asked.
“Sam. Sam Whitman.”
Brody stepped back from the intercom, then cursed softly. What the hell was this? Payton had assured him that she’d called Sam and told him she would see him in the morning. Either he was a very impatient man or he wanted to talk to Brody directly.
Brody drew a deep breath. “She’s not here,” he said.
“I’m here to talk to you,” Sam said. “Man to man.”
Brody shook his head, then opened the front door and walked to the lift. If this guy wanted to talk, they’d talk. But Brody was going to have much more to say than “get the hell out of our lives.” As he rode the lift dow
n to the lobby, he carefully schooled his temper. The last thing he wanted to do was punch the guy. There was no need to get physical. But he was prepared to take it that far if the situation warranted.
He’d seen the photo of Sam on the Internet and knew what to expect. But when he walked into the lobby, Brody was surprised at how slight he was. In a bar brawl, Sam Whitman wouldn’t last a minute.
To Brody’s delight, Whitman seemed to be a bit intimidated by Brody’s size. Brody had at least ten centimeters on him and a good fifteen kilos. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“I have some things to say about Payton.”
“She plans to stay here with me. She was going to stop by your hotel tomorrow morning and let you know.”
Sam paused, as if considering his next comment carefully. “You don’t find it unusual that she’d abandon her family and friends? Without a second thought?”
“No,” Brody lied. “Not after the way you treated her. She has a right to make her own decisions.”
“I think we both have to be honest,” Sam said. “Maybe I didn’t give her the attention she needed. And I’ll admit, I might have focused on work too much. But I can give her a very comfortable life. From what I know of you, you can’t.”
Brody quelled a surge of temper. He knew it was the only advantage that Sam Whitman had on him. And Whitman obviously wasn’t afraid to use it.
“I have some opportunities,” Brody said. “Besides, we can always live on the station with my family. Payton loves it there.”
“For how long?” Sam asked. “How long until the novelty wears off and she grows tired of being isolated from everything she knows and loves?”
He was saying the same things Brody had said to himself. “Do you honestly think you can buy her back?”
“No. But I believe if you really love her, you’ll consider what’s best for her. I believe if you’re selfish enough to keep her here, you’ll pay the price later. And by isolating her from her family and friends, you’re allowing her to avoid the consequences of her actions.” Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, then withdrew an envelope from it. “This is an airline ticket and enough cash to get her home.”
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