Too Close to Call: A Romancing the Clarksons Novella

by Tessa Bailey

  Everything is going to be fine. I understand now.

  He understood what? Why…why she couldn’t go with him? Why she needed to stay? That’s what they’d been talking about, right? Los Angeles. Bree’s mother. All the cons on the list of why Bree couldn’t go with him. But none of the pros.

  None of the reasons why she could.

  Her bloodless fingers dropped the toothbrush in the sink, fear slicing straight up her middle.

  He’d left.

  Last night, he’d been saying good-bye.

  Cymbals crashed in Bree’s head, balance deserting her as she ran back into her bedroom. Blood beat in her temples, her lungs scraped raw from dragging in jagged breaths. She pulled on the jean shorts still resting on the floor, shoved her feet into galoshes, and ran for the house’s front door. Rainclouds covered the sun, shrouding the house in gloom, moisture pouring down the windows.

  She turned in a circle, trying to gather her bearings, but it didn’t work. Various images of Kyler cycled one by one through her consciousness. Dancing. Speaking to her outside the diner, casual ease forced into his voice. How could she have missed his determination? Had she been blind? Kyler across from her at the dinner table, driving beside her, walking the mare.

  “Oh, please.” Bree grabbed her stomach and jogged toward the door. “Oh God, please.”

  If he’d already left, changing Kyler’s mind would be a feat equivalent to turning back time. Convincing him she wanted—needed—to come along would be impossible if she let the deadline of his flight pass. The man did what he thought was best for her. Never failed. And she’d stupidly given him every reason to leave, to set her free.

  I don’t want to be free of him. Being free of Kyler is the real prison.

  Just before Bree reached the door, something stopped her in her tracks. The family portrait—which included her mother—that had been hanging since she was a child…had been replaced. The new photograph featured her father, her sister, and herself. Just the three of them.

  It was the look in her own eye that captured Bree’s attention. It wasn’t far off and disconnected, the way her mother’s had been. No. She was present, looking down at Kira lovingly, her hand resting over Samuel’s where it lay on her shoulder.

  A light went on behind her. “You could be a million miles away and we’d still feel you here. With us.” Her father’s voice came from the dining room, strong and steady. Full of affection. “You’re not abandoning us, Bree. You never could.”

  She pressed the back of her hand over her mouth for a beat. “I abandoned him, though, didn’t I? Now I’m too late.”

  “You’re underestimating him.” Her father’s long-suffering sigh turned Bree around. “I wouldn’t say that unless I meant it.”

  “I know.” She pointed an accusing finger at her father but didn’t have the strength to keep her arm up. “You love him, too.”

  “Don’t push it.” With a wink, he jerked his head toward the door. “Go.”

  Bree rushed out into the rain without an umbrella, going straight for her truck. She pulled down the sun visor and the keys dropped into her lap, where Kyler had apparently left them. Such a simple gesture, but it made a sob rise in Bree’s throat as she gunned the truck in reverse down the driveway. Before turning onto the street, she caught sight of a red sedan parked on the main road. In the driver’s seat, a man watched her with a cautious smile.

  An idea formed. But it would only work if Kyler hadn’t left.

  And an awful pit in her stomach yawned wide, telling her…he had.

  * * * *

  Bree’s worst fear was confirmed when she pulled up in front of Kyler’s home.

  There wasn’t a vehicle in sight.

  Not his truck, not his daddy’s. His mother’s station wagon was gone, too.

  Were they seeing him off at the airport? Was Kyler already on the way home, his plane nothing but a speck in the air on its way to Los Angeles?

  She climbed out of the truck on shaky legs, her galoshes sinking into the mud, making her slip forward. The red sedan pulled up behind her in the driveway, the cameraman stepping out with plastic already positioned over his head and the camera. A look of sympathy skittered across his face before he hid it.

  God, she could very well have brought this man along to witness her humiliation. She was too late. Had to be. Why would Kyler wait around for someone who’d doubted what they had together? Over and over. She wouldn’t even blame him if he’d given up and left.

  Rain coasted down Bree’s cheeks as she walked slowly for the front door. Each footstep sank into the mud, as though God was trying to inform her this was a fool’s mission. The cameraman’s footsteps echoed hers, glopping every couple seconds in the mud. A slow-moving funeral procession.

  Finally, she’d climbed the steps and stood outside the door. Her knock sounded so hollow, ringing back at her from inside the empty house. The rain began falling heavier, pounding the ground around the Tate house, thunder rolling far off in the distance.

  Still, she knocked again, harder. “Kyler?”

  The camera light went on behind her, reflecting in the brass doorknob, but Bree no longer cared about having an audience for her worst moment. No, there had always been far more at stake with Kyler than stupid cameras could ever capture. She would welcome hundreds of them in her face as long as Kyler held her at the end of the day, issuing challenges in her ear. Calling her—

  “Supergirl?”

  For a second, Bree thought it was her imagination conjuring Kyler’s voice. She whipped around toward the cameraman, but he was no longer pointing his device at her. No, the light shined on Kyler where he stood at the base of the steps, rain pouring down his head, dripping off his chin.

  He was the most incredible, most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. Relief caught her so hard in the belly, she slumped back against the door, pinned there by the miracle she’d been given.

  Kyler shot up the steps, concern etched on his beloved face. “Bree? What’s wrong?” He turned wild eyes on the cameraman, who wisely backed up but kept filming. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of this. It won’t happen again—”

  “No. No, he’s… I asked him to come.” Her hands trembled as she swiped at the rain in her face. “Oh God, I-I thought you’d left. I thought you’d left.”

  Bree didn’t realize she’d slid down the door into a sitting position until Kyler went to his knees, crawling toward her. “Hey.” He cupped her face in two warm hands, his green eyes blazing. “I told you, Bree. I said it and you heard me. I’m not leaving without you.”

  “But your flight—”

  “I missed it.” His gaze moved over her face, catching on her eyelids, stray curls, her nose, mouth. “Your home is here. This is where you’re happy—”

  “No, wait—”

  “So I’m staying.” He shook her and repeated himself. “I’m staying. That’s how this was always going to work if you didn’t decide to come, supergirl. You just weren’t hearing me all the way.”

  For the next few moments, the sound of rain falling and her tortured heartbeat was all she could hear. “You were going to give it up for me?”

  “Not were. Am.” His thumbs skated over her lips. “None of it means a damn thing without you, Bree. I’m getting a little tired of saying it and not having you believe me.”

  “So stop.” Lord, she couldn’t get her breath. This man. He was one and the same with her dreams. “Stop saying it. Because it means something to me.” She desperately tried to gather her thoughts. “I dreamed of you last night. Sons. We had sons. A yard and a dog. And you loved me. I could feel how much you loved me, clear across the yard.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Clear from Cincinnati.”

  Kyler’s eyes turned glassy, his breath escaping in a giant rush. “Damn right I love you.”

  “California is the first step in that journey. We’re going to take it together. I want to, Kyler. I don’t want to stay here and wonder what we could have seen and done.
Our own life. All the things that’ll steer it. The directions we’ll take.” Tears mixed with rain on her cheeks. “I want to go with you.”

  He stayed very still, but hope livened his features. “Do you mean that?”

  Bree was still nodding when he launched himself at her, wrapping her in a bear hug and hauling her onto his lap. They fell back onto the porch in the glow of the camera, still wrapped up in each other’s arms. “Christ. I thought I was imagining you standing on this porch, Bree.”

  She clung to his neck. “Where were you?”

  “Walking through the cornfields. Deciding on my next move with you.”

  Her heart tripled its tempo. “What did you come up with?“

  “I got as far as another dance off…” They both stopped to laugh, Kyler rubbing their noses together. “But I decided to go for broke and propose instead.” His hand went to his pocket, coming back with a simple antique engagement ring between two fingers. His expression turned serious, even in the wake of Bree’s gulping cry of his name. “I was going to refuse to take no for an answer. In case you’re wondering, that part hasn’t changed.”

  “Ask me,” Bree murmured, framing his face with her hands.

  “Be my wife, supergirl. Let me love you from across the yard.”

  “Yes.”

  A slow clap started from the base of the steps. Clearly having forgotten about their audience, Bree and Kyler both turned to look to find the cameraman flipping off the light and lowering his device. “Congratulations.” He turned away and started toward his car. “And good luck next season.”

  “Who needs luck when I’ve got Bree Justice?” Kyler blew her mind with a slow, drugging kiss, his mouth hot and uncompromising. “Why did you bring him along?”

  “To show you I’m going to be okay. There’s just you and me, Ky.” She licked into his mouth and moaned when he shifted his hips. “The rest is just noise,” she gasped.

  “Come for a walk in the cornfields with me.”

  “In the rain?”

  That challenging expression she knew so well made Bree’s heart float up, up into the clouds. “Scared?”

  “Scared?” She shook her head. “No. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  Minutes later, they disappeared into the stalks, eternity stretching out around them and in front of them.

  Epilogue

  Kyler had expected attention and cameras. He hadn’t planned on national interest in his and Bree’s relationship. Only this time, she’d been the one dragging him into the spotlight. And boy, did she appear to be reveling in the turnabout.

  During their first week in Los Angeles, Kyler and his fiancée had been recognized on the street by well-wishers, media, and Rage fans everywhere they went, thanks to the viral video of his proposal. The first time they’d been approached and asked for a picture, he’d gone tense, but Bree didn’t so much as flinch, flashing her beautiful smile at the cameras he’d once dreaded.

  Signing the lease on their apartment and enrolling Bree in the veterinary medicine program at Western University was the first order of business, before Kyler fell into the full-throttle hell of training camp. Every morning, Bree sent him off with a sleepy kiss and each night he crawled into bed beside her, pushing textbooks and binders out of the way before pulling her into his arms and passing out.

  Yes, they finally had a damn bed. Since they’d forgone putting down expensive roots in California right away, they’d splurged on the most extravagant bed Kyler could find, tricking it out with soft sheets and feather pillows. The only trouble with their first shared bed was getting out of it. And on their mutual days off, they didn’t even bother trying, only emerging from the bedroom for food. Or to take a walk on the beach, which stretched out from the end of their block, straight through to forever, a lot like the cornfields they often missed.

  Bree’s fall semester coincided with football season, so those days were few and far between, but they only treasured them more. No amount of time or difficulty could touch them. Commitment was in the way they looked at one another. Not a damn thing, especially some days apart, could test their bond. It was airtight.

  Today was Kyler’s first regular season game. Walking out onto the field, a flashback to high school hit him. Bree up in the stands, red-faced over the way everyone stared at her when his name was announced. The ooohs and kissing noises. High school stuff.

  This stadium full of thousands of roaring fans? Not high school stuff. Truth be told, Kyler lost his ever-loving cool envisioning Bree in the center of it all. Recognizable. Alone, despite the team security that escorted the players’ family members. His hands clenched in the leather gloves, his gaze searching uselessly through the writhing crowd for her face.

  She’s there. You’re going home to her. Relax.

  Easier said than done.

  Taking a deep breath, Kyler prepared to put his helmet back on when a sign caught his eye, just even with the fifty-yard line, about four rows back.

  It said, “Supergirl,” and had an arrow pointing downward, at the only person who could calm him down in that moment. Bree.

  Relief and love rocked him back on his heels. Especially when Bree stood and Kyler saw that she wore his jersey. She blew him a kiss and turned around… And on the back, above his number—instead of Tate—the name read, “Superguy.”

  Leave it to Bree to make him feel invincible.

  And that day, he was. And every day, they were.

  THE END

  * * * *

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Tessa Bailey, discover Rough Rhythm.

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  Band manager James Brandon never expected to find the elusive satisfaction he’d been chasing, let alone stumble upon it in some sleezy Hollywood meat market. Yet the girl’s quiet pride spoke to him from across the bar, louder than a shout. Troubled, hungry and homeless, she’d placed her trust in him. But after losing the grip on his dark desires that one fateful night, James has spent the last four years atoning for letting her down.

  This time I’ll finally crack him.

  Rock band drummer Lita Regina has had enough of James’s guilt. She wants the explosive man she met that night in Hollywood. The man who held nothing back and took no prisoners—save Lita. And she’ll stop at nothing to revive him. Even if it means throwing herself into peril at every turn, just to get a reaction from her stoic manager. But when Lita takes her quest one step too far, James disappears from her life, thinking his absence will keep her safe.

  Now it’s up to Lita to bring James back…and ignite an inferno of passion in the process.

  Reader Advisory: ROUGH RHYTHM contains fantasies of nonconsensual sex, acted upon by consenting characters. Readers with sensitivity to portrayals of nonconsensual sex should be advised.