Rushing In: A Small Town Family Romance

by Claire Kingsley

  Half the team was on the other side, playing defense for the scrimmage, and Jack had taken over for my great-uncle Wendell as coach. Jack wasn’t a Bailey, but Grace was now, and Jack was her stepdad, so we’d decided it counted.

  I leaned on my crutches and watched Asher execute a play. He attempted a pass to Evan, but it was incomplete.

  “You gotta get open if you’re going to run that one,” I called.

  Evan glared at me. He probably growled, but he was too far away for me to hear him.

  I’d come for the first practice of the season tonight because… well, because I was bored as fuck. I was on leave from work, so I had all kinds of free time. But I couldn’t do any of the cool shit I usually did. I was starting to realize that all my hobbies required two legs. Rock climbing, ice climbing, hiking, swimming in the river, jumping in the river, swimming in the lake, jumping in the lake, mountain biking, baseball, dirt bike riding, martial arts… and of course, flag football. Two-leg activities. And I only had one.

  Could have been a lot worse, of course. I was going to heal. I just had to find something to do in the meantime.

  Bored was not good for me. I tended to get into trouble when I was bored.

  Jack’s wife, Naomi, walked onto the field with her son, Elijah. Naomi was Grace’s mom, which made her my brother’s mother-in-law. I wasn’t sure if that meant we were related now, but it was close enough. I’d grown up next door to her, so she was family either way.

  I waved to her and Elijah. He was getting tall—hitting that first pubescent growth spurt. They waved back. Jack called for a water break, then walked over to kiss his wife and give Elijah a big hug.

  They were such a cool family.

  I moved over to a bench and eased myself down. Logan came over with a water bottle and sat next to me. His flannel shirt and lime green swim trunks were splattered with mud, as were his white tube socks and shoes.

  “Hey, brofa.”

  “Brofa?”

  “Bro on a sofa.” He took a swig of water. “I know it’s a bench, but close enough. Are you pouting already?”

  Logan had been out at the wildfire all week. Even once it had started raining, the crews had stayed to do spot checks and cleanup. I hadn’t seen him since the day of the accident.

  “I’m not pouting.”

  “Could have fooled me. Come on, it’s a broken leg. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

  “Lucky would have been not getting hit by a car.”

  “Fair point. Guess you used up all your luck out at the burn.”

  He was probably right. Maybe I’d given some of my luck to Robby. That was a worthy sacrifice.

  “What am I going to do for another five weeks? I can’t just sit around.”

  “I thought it was seven more weeks in the cast.”

  “Whatever. I’m a quick healer.”

  “What’d you do the last time you broke something?”

  “Last time they put me in one of those boots so I didn’t have crutches. I was on light duty at work so at least I had something to do.”

  “See? Pouting.”

  Fine, maybe I was pouting.

  “Was that really Chief’s daughter who hit you?” he asked.

  A vision ran through my mind. Me, lying on the pavement, looking up at a face. The most beautiful face I’d ever seen. For a second, I’d honestly wondered if I was dead. Light had framed her dark hair like a halo, and when she’d touched me, the pain had disappeared.

  “Yeah, it was her.”

  “You realize you’re going to have to give him shit about that, right?”

  My mouth twitched in a grin. “Oh yeah.”

  “Good. I was starting to think you were getting depressed or something.”

  “I’m not depressed, I’m bored and my leg itches.” I paused for a moment. “She grew up hot.”

  “Who?”

  “Chief’s daughter.”

  Because fuck, she really had. Unless I’d hit my head and that ethereal memory of her was a pain-induced fabrication. Long dark hair. Big brown eyes. Probably looked bananas in a bikini.

  Or naked, but that was taking things a little too far, considering who she was.

  He elbowed me. “Dude. Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t start that shit. Not with her.”

  “I’m not starting anything.”

  “You just said she grew up hot.”

  “It’s just an observation. You saw her. She did grow up hot.”

  “Yeah, I did, and you’re right, but you know you can’t chase her.”

  “Who said I was going to chase her?”

  He shook his head. “I know you love danger in all its forms, but use your brain. This one isn’t worth the risk.”

  He was right. Even though she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on, Skylar Stanley was completely forbidden—to me and my brothers at least.

  Not that Asher and Evan counted anymore. Asher was married, and he and Grace were pregnant with their first baby. Evan had gotten engaged to his girlfriend Fiona a couple of months ago. Baileys were dropping like flies, and I had no intention of being the next one.

  And Chief’s daughter? I wasn’t stupid. Even I knew how big of a mistake it would be to go after Skylar Stanley.

  Which, okay, made it really tempting.

  But I wasn’t going succumb to that. There were plenty of girls in the world. I wouldn’t risk my career, or my relationship with Chief, over one of them.

  “I know. Even I’m not that crazy.”

  Jack called for the team to huddle up.

  Logan got up and cast me a sidelong glance. “We’ll see.”

  Before I could argue with him, he ran onto the field.

  They executed a few more plays. Asher looked good out there. The team hadn’t been the same without him when he’d been in prison—which had been such bullshit anyway. Of course, nothing had been the same without him. It was good to have him home.

  I hung out on the bench and gazed at the wet ground. My mind wandered to pretty brown eyes. The feel of her fingers gently sliding through my hair.

  The football flew past my face, almost hitting me in the head.

  “Watch out, Gav!”

  Shit.

  I really needed to stop doing that. As much as I didn’t want to admit when my brother was right, he had a point about Skylar.

  So why did I keep thinking about her?

  This wasn’t normal for me. Sure, I liked women. A lot. And if a girl caught my eye, I didn’t hesitate to go after her. But I’d never been this preoccupied with a girl before.

  Especially a girl I’d already decided I wasn’t going to chase.

  I wasn’t an idiot. Serious relationships weren’t my thing. Going after Skylar, tempting as it was, would be a huge mistake. Because what would happen when it ended? Chief would be pissed at me. Worse, he’d be disappointed in me. Even if she was the one to end it, he was her dad. He’d be on her side. I’d take the blame.

  That was a mess I didn’t want to clean up. No matter how tempting she was.

  A few fat drops fell from the sky and I decided that was my cue to leave. I squelched through the wet grass to my truck. Luckily I’d broken my left leg, and my truck was an automatic, so I could still drive.

  I didn’t feel like going home, so I headed into town and parked outside Grace’s coffee shop, the Steaming Mug.

  Crutch, step, crutch, step, I made my way to the door. Now I had to open it. Damn it, everything was hard with a broken leg.

  I looked through the glass to see if someone could open it for me, and my eyes landed on a girl at a table.

  Oh shit. It was her. Skylar Stanley. My boss’s daughter.

  My boss’s hot daughter.

  Her hotness hadn’t been a pain-induced hallucination. She was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered.

  But it wasn’t just the way she looked that had me captivated. There was something about her. About the way she stared
off into the distance, her eyes unfocused. It made me want to know what was going on in that head of hers.

  What are you thinking about, Sky?

  This was a bad idea. She had all the makings of a Gavin lure. And I couldn’t take the bait.

  But before I could go anywhere, she caught sight of me. She flew out of her seat so fast, she almost knocked over her chair, and rushed to open the door.

  6

  Skylar

  Try a change of scenery, I’d thought. The coffee shop downtown looked cute. Maybe it would help and I could get some work done.

  This wasn’t helping. It was so much worse.

  I stared at the man on crutches, standing just outside the door. It was him. Right here, practically in the same room with me. Gavin Bailey.

  I didn’t know if I was ready for this encounter.

  Except, oh my god, he couldn’t open the door.

  That was totally my fault, so I jumped out of my chair and darted to open it for him.

  “Thanks.” He moved past me to come inside, then he stopped and his eyes met mine.

  Uh-oh.

  Never in my life had an uh-oh been so fraught with meaning.

  Uh-oh because he was looking at me and I was looking at him. It felt like a zap of electricity arced between us—a flash of energy reaching from deep in my chest, right into his.

  And uh-oh because his mouth curled into a subtle smile, puckering his dimples. It made me want step closer and run my fingers through his hair again.

  What was even happening?

  My tongue felt thick and awkward. A half-formed, inarticulate jumble of words swirled through my head and the soft music in the background suddenly rang too loud in my ears. It was like I could hear each individual string of the acoustic guitar thwacking against the wood.

  Still, I somehow managed to form a coherent sentence. “Do you want to sit down?”

  He gazed at me like I’d just said something incredibly interesting and blinked a few times before answering. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

  I pulled out a chair for him and realized too late that it was at my table, and I didn’t know if he wanted to sit with me, or just sit down. But he lowered himself into the chair and leaned his crutches against the table.

  “I guess we didn’t actually meet the other day,” he said as I took my seat. “I’m Gavin.”

  Name. Don’t tell him he’s hot. Just tell him your name. “I’m Skylar. Um, Skylar Stanley.”

  My voice was so little and timid. I hated sounding like that, but the obvious shyness in my tone only made my instinct to hide stronger.

  “Nice to officially meet you.” He flashed a smile, the full force of those dimples and white teeth shining directly on me. It was like looking at the sun.

  God, he was gorgeous.

  “I’m so sorry about hitting you. I can’t believe I broke your leg. Does it hurt a lot?”

  “No, it’s not bad.”

  “I swear, I looked. I wasn’t texting or anything. I looked and turned the corner and then bam, there you were.”

  He reached over and laid his hand on top of mine. The sudden contact felt like another bolt of electricity. A blush hit my cheeks and the warmth of his skin on mine was somehow soothing and arousing at the same time.

  His eyes flicked from my face, down to our hands, then back again. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but closed it again and quickly took his hand away.

  “I’m really fine,” he said, and I saw him flex his hand under the table. “I’m the dumbass who walked into the road.”

  “I guess that’s why adults teach kids to look both ways before crossing the street.” I pinched my lips closed. I’d meant that as a joke, but maybe it had just sounded rude. “Sorry, sometimes I’m bad at verbal conversations.”

  Especially when I’m struck stupid by a hot firefighter.

  Which had literally never happened to me before.

  “Well, at least you’re a good driver.” He winked, the corners of his lips lifting.

  I laughed, feeling a little of my anxiety dissipate.

  “So…” He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Aside from running into clueless pedestrians, what are you doing back in Tilikum?”

  He had no idea what a loaded question that was. But I wasn’t about to give my life story to someone I’d just met. “I just needed a change of scenery.”

  “Good choice. We have great scenery.”

  The way he stared directly at me when he said that, I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be flirtatious—like I was great scenery—or if he was talking about the objectively beautiful scenery outside.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear, trying not to let my brain get too sidetracked. “Yeah, it’s really beautiful here.”

  “You’re a writer or something like that, right?”

  “I am. How’d you know?”

  “Your dad is my boss, and he talks about you. What kind of stuff do you write?”

  His ability to effortlessly keep the conversation going was such a relief. I never seemed to know what to say next, but answering questions was easy. “I write suspense novels, usually about serial killers, although one of my biggest sellers is technically a thriller.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Between thriller and suspense?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s not necessarily a standard definition, but most agents and editors consider a novel a thriller if the protagonist is in danger from the outset and the reader has basically the same information as he or she does. A suspense usually means the reader knows things the protagonist doesn’t. So the reader waits with suspense to see if the protagonist discovers the danger in time.” I shut my mouth again. “Sorry, that was probably more information than you wanted.”

  “Not at all.” He leaned forward and rested his forearm on the table. “That’s awesome. I don’t think I could sit still long enough to write a page, let alone a whole book.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve been having a hard time lately, too.”

  A pretty blond woman dressed in a pink blouse and cropped pants came over to our table. “Hey, Gav. How’s the leg?”

  “Mostly just itches. Have you met Skylar?” He turned to me. “This is my sister-in-law, Grace. She’s my brother Asher’s wife.”

  Grace gave me a warm smile. “Hey, I heard you were in town. It’s nice to see you again. I think we were probably in elementary school the last time I saw you.”

  “Probably.”

  “I was just with your hubs,” Gavin said. “He was looking good at quarterback. How are you feeling?”

  “I feel amazing, actually.” She rested a hand on her stomach and turned back to me. “He’s asking because I’m pregnant.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled again and there was so much joy in her eyes, it made my heart flutter a little. “I feel really good. No morning sickness or anything. I’m a little tired, but I can’t complain. So far being pregnant agrees with me.”

  “You’re a brave woman,” Gavin said. “Baking the first Bailey cub of the next generation.”

  “Logan has a pool going to guess the gender,” she said. “Want in?”

  Gavin tilted his head, as if he’d be able to tell whether Grace was carrying a boy or a girl by looking at her. She wasn’t even showing yet.

  “Boy,” he said, his voice full of confidence.

  “That’s what Gram said, too.”

  “Of course she did. Because it’s a boy.”

  “You’re probably right. Baileys produce a lot more boys than girls.”

  “I guess our boy swimmers are the aggressive ones.”

  Grace laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, do you want anything? I can have Jenna bring it over so you don’t have to get up.”

  “That would be awesome.” His gaze swung to me. “As long as Skylar doesn’t mind.”

  He was making me feel a little jittery, but not in a bad way. “No, I don
’t mind.”

  “Your usual?” Grace asked.

  “Yes, please and thank you,” he said, flashing her another grin.

  “One salted caramel mocha with whip coming up.”

  He leaned closer and whispered, as if he were telling me a secret. “I kind of have a sweet tooth.”

  “Did you know that the researchers who discovered the artificial sweetener sucralose were actually attempting to create an insecticide?” I asked.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Apparently one of the researchers was asked to test the substance, but he thought he’d been instructed to taste it. Fortunately for him, it wasn’t toxic. And it tasted like sugar.” I pressed my lips closed. “Sorry, I don’t know why you’d need to know that. I did some research on potentially toxic household substances once and fell down a rabbit hole.”

  “I thought you were going to say someone dared him to taste the bug poison.”

  “That wouldn’t have been a very smart dare to take. Although getting the words taste and test wrong when you’re trying to make insecticide seems like a pretty big mistake.”

  He smiled at me again with a look in his eyes like he wasn’t sure what to think.

  Which was understandable, considering I was babbling about insecticide and artificial sweeteners.

  The barista brought Gavin’s coffee to the table. He thanked her, then brought the mug to his mouth. When he set it down, a little bit of foam was still on his upper lip. I watched his tongue dart out to lick it off.

  He leans close and his tongue brushes the tip of mine, a tantalizing taste that sends a shiver down my back. Our lips press together, my eyes fluttering closed, and—

  I blinked the vision away. Where had that come from? I shifted in my seat, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I’d been briefly overtaken by a kissing fantasy.

  Except his eyes were on my mouth. Was he staring at my lips because I’d been staring at his? He didn’t look away, and my gaze dipped again. What would that mouth feel like on mine? On my skin, trailing down my neck, or finding the hot bundle of nerves between my—