Making the Play (21 page)

Grant ran a finger over the thin strip of her skin bared as her shirt rode up slightly and she shivered in response.

“You're so beautiful, Bethany.”

She wasn't sure what to say, or if a response was even necessary. What she wanted to do was straddle his body and strip him naked but she held back, sensing him doing the same. His palm slid under her shirt but simply lay against her skin, warming it and sending butterflies racing through her limbs.

“So,” he began, pausing a beat. “I want you to ask me anything.”

“You want to
talk
?”

Grant nodded and Bethany was confused. Other than the one night he'd stayed over, whenever she felt any sexual tension building between them, he pulled away and shut it down. He was obviously attracted to her but unwilling to act on it. She knew he was a gentleman, but this was taking it a bit further than necessary. Her confusion must have been evident in her expression.

“On the phone, the other day, you said that we barely knew each other. I don't want you to feel that way. What do you want to know about me? For you, I'm an open book.”

He was willing to go to this kind of effort to make her feel more at ease with pursuing a relationship? Her heart crashed through what was left of the protective wall around it. No man had ever cared for her, about how she felt, her worries and concerns, the way Grant did. He'd more than earned her trust. He'd won her over completely.

She lay her hand over his, wanting to ask a thousand questions but unsure where to begin. “Why did you choose football?”

“You mean instead of another sport or as a career?”

“Both.”

“I enjoyed the game as a kid and we had plenty of practice wrestling with the cattle, just screwing around. But I figured if I could toss a calf for junior rodeo, getting hit on the field wasn't much different. I did track in high school too but football was where my heart was.”

“You were a rodeo cowboy? I thought you didn't like ranching.”

“They are two very different things. I rodeoed when I was younger. I started around James' age riding sheep and stopped in high school.” She smiled at the thought of him as a young cowboy. He must have driven the girls wild. “Getting beat up in football was bad enough, I didn't need it in the arena with rough stock too.”

His fingers traced the line of her hip and she could feel the hunger coiling in her, begging to be released. She could see it in his eyes but he didn't seem inclined to act on it. Either that or he was in far better control of himself than she was.

“What about you? Did you always want to be a teacher?”

His hand moved to play along hers, his long, tapered fingers gliding over her skin. Bethany couldn't help but remember the way his fingers had played her body just a few nights ago, like a musical instrument made especially for him.

She and Matthew's sex life had been okay, but she'd loved her husband and never wondered how it might have been better. However, with Grant she had no self-­control. Her body reacted apart from her will, wildly, leaving her breathless, calling out his name. And that was before they had even actually—­

“Are you listening?”

Her gaze leapt up to his face and she realized he'd been talking to her but she'd been too busy fantasizing about him to listen. Grant's eyes darkened, turning nearly black, and she could see the desire pooling in them.

“No, I'm not,” she admitted on a whisper.

Grant brushed a lock of hair back from the side of her face. “You're off somewhere else. Tell me.”

She swallowed as he braced himself on an elbow, his cheek in his hand, and let his fingers trail over her arm, falling to a halt at her ribs. Desire smoldered in her, like a flame barely banked, ready to blaze out of control if he wasn't careful. He'd sparked it in her and now she wanted to be burned. She wanted to let it rage.

“I was thinking about the other night.”

A blush crept to her cheeks and Bethany wondered where she'd ever found the courage to admit her wanton thoughts to him aloud. A week ago she wouldn't have admitted having them at all, let alone confess them to the man inspiring them. How had she changed so much in the last week and a half?

Grant smiled as his thumb brushed the curve of her breast. “I haven't stopped thinking about it.”

“Grant,” she pleaded, closing her eyes with a sigh.

“Sorry.” He pulled his hand back from her and Bethany reached for it, catching it before he could move.

“Why are you sorry?”

She could see the concern in his eyes, a tender mix of worry and desire. “I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you, Bethany.”

“Grant, you're not pressuring me. I told you the other night, I want this. I still do.” She rolled over, pressing him onto his back and hovering over him, prepared to show him exactly what she was asking for. A slow smile curved her lips. “Please, tell me you came prepared this time.”

Grant hesitated. “Bethany—­”

Dread welled up. Had she been misreading his signals? Maybe this was his version of
friendship
and she was the one pushing him for more than he was prepared to give. But that's not what he'd said this morning. She sat up and scooted backward, putting some space between them as his rejection loomed like a dark cloud over them. “I know it's been a while since I did this, but am I misreading things? I thought we were on the same page.”

Bethany saw the emotions run the gamut in his eyes. He'd never make a good poker player because his eyes showed everything. She could easily read indecision, fear and anger. But there was more—­desire, sorrow, regret.

“What aren't you telling me?” He didn't answer for a moment, looking lost. Whatever he had going on in his mind was visibly tearing him up. “Grant?”

“Bethany, you're not misreading anything. It's killing me keeping my hands off you, but I also know you deserve the dream.”

“What dream?”

He tipped his head to one side and rolled his eyes. “
The
dream. You know, marriage, house, kids, a ­couple dogs.” He threw his hand up. “I don't know if I can give you that.”

“I had that, remember? Well, minus the dogs, and it all fell apart. The problem with a dream is that it fades in the face of reality.” She lay on his chest, her body molding to his, and moved her lips over his. “This is the only reality I need.”

 

Chapter Twenty-­One

G
RANT KNEW THE
moment to tell her the truth had passed. He'd been ready to confess everything—­his appointment with the doctors, the likely outcome, the fact that unless he took one of the two positions offered—­neither of which was appealing and both took him far from her and James—­he'd be officially retired, unemployed and, for the time being, broke. What kind of irresponsible man would he be to take on a family without a job, just sitting around
her
house, waiting for next year's payout? Or the next opportunity,
if
Bob could even scrounge one up? He was raised to work hard, protect and provide for a family. That was what a
man
did.

She deserved the truth and a man brave enough to admit it.

Guilt ate at him, her words like stakes driving into his heart. His feelings for her were real but until he told her everything, this
wasn't
reality. Being with her, in his arms, this was his fantasy, a dream come true, if only for a short time. Because, like Bethany said, dreams would disappear when faced with reality. He couldn't come to her empty-­handed and ask her to wait for him. But if he could settle the question of his future in the next ­couple days . . .

His hands slid to her waist as she covered his mouth with hers, swinging one leg over his hips to straddle him. He wanted their first time to be perfect. He'd brought her here to tell her everything because regardless of which job he ended up with, if any, he wanted her beside him. But watching her with his family, seeing them with James, he realized he could never ask her to leave Hidden Falls. She fit in here, far more than he ever had. Maybe he could be a rancher, like his father and brothers. Maybe he could learn to tolerate it with Bethany at his side. Settling was far better than losing her.

Wrapping her hands around the hem of her shirt, she pulled it over her head. Her long, dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, falling forward to tickle his face and chest. His entire body responded to the sight of her, longing spiraling through him, igniting every bit of the desire he'd been holding back since the first time he'd seen her in the park with James. His impatience fueled her own and she slid her hands under his shirt. Every muscle she touched tensed with anticipation and he took the collar of his shirt, yanking it off before wrapping his arms around her waist and rolling her onto her back. Staring down at her, Grant knew without a doubt, he couldn't let go of this woman. He would have to find a way to make his future work
with
her.

His thoughts about his career vanished as Bethany moved her hands over him. They were everywhere and he was desperate to touch her, to taste her again, but he didn't want them to rush this. He took her hands in his, lacing their fingers, and brought her hands to either side of her head, bending to sip from her lips. Her hips bowed into him and, as much as could understand the hunger driving her, he wasn't letting anything, not even desire, steal this precious moment from either of them.

He let go of her hands, letting his fingertips graze over her arms and to her breasts swelling over the top of her bra. Grant flipped the clasp in the front, releasing them to his gaze. She was as close to perfection as was possible. His hands covered her, feeling the tight buds pressing into his palms as she arched into his touch. He watched as she closed her eyes, her breath ragged as she gave herself to every caress, sending his senses reeling. Grant bent forward, his mouth replacing one hand and she cried out.

The sounds of the outdoors stilled, as if even nature understood the reverence of this moment between the two of them. Unbuttoning her jeans, Grant hooked his fingers into the material at her hips and slid the denim down her thighs, catching her underwear and following with his mouth, pressing hot, wet kisses over her flesh. He covered every inch of her, from her hips to the delicate curve of her ankles, and back up again, searching for and finding every caress that would make her gasp with hungry desire.

His thumb found the center of her pleasure as his lips caressed her inner thigh, moving higher. Covering her with his mouth, Grant worshiped her with his lips, tongue and hands. Bethany's hands fisted the covers of the bed, her body writhing beneath him.

“Grant,” she managed through clenched teeth. “Please.”

He slid a finger into her, slowly, watching her eyes fly open in wonder as her entire body quaked, her release gripping them both and she cried out his name. Grant took her to new heights, lifting her to crest the waves of her rapture until she came back down, lying satiated and weak beneath him. Pressing gentle kisses over her stomach, he slid up her body, smiling as she sighed with gratification. He swirled his tongue around a tight nipple, sucking gently, and she laughed quietly as her body trembled in sensual response.

“I can't move,” she whispered, her fingers knotting in his hair, pulling him toward her for a kiss he was happy to provide.

He couldn't get enough of her, the scent of her surrounding him, the taste of her still on his lips, the feel of her hands on his feverish skin. It was intoxicating.

Her fingers moved over the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down and lingering over the evidence of his desire beneath. Sliding out of them quickly, Grant plucked the package from his pocket before kicking the pants aside. As he moved to lie beside her, she reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his length, and he thought he'd explode. Gritting his teeth, Grant stilled her hand.

“Not this time. I want you too much. I can't.” The words were barely coherent but they were the best he could manage. “I need you, Bethany.”

Her smile, the dazzling joy in her eyes, could light up an entire room. “Good, then I'm not the only one who feels this way.” She sat up, taking the package from his fingers, and tore it open.

Grant thought he would die before she sheathed him. The mere act nearly driving him over the edge of sanity as she slowly ran her hands over him, touching him, stroking him as he throbbed in her hand. He groaned as she gave him what he needed, pressing her body against his, cradling him in her curves. His body begged for release as it nudged the entrance to her heat.

“Bethany,” he whispered on a pained sigh. She moved her hands to his shoulders, then let one hand glide over his hip to press him closer.

“Please, Grant.”

He couldn't wait any longer. Grant clenched his jaw, holding back the desire to plunge into her as he moved with devastatingly torturous slowness. Bethany arched her hips as he filled her, inching forward to create the rhythm that would ignite them both.

Her nails dug into his back, biting into the flesh, and he fought to maintain control as her body wrapped around his, urging him to join her. She wrapped her legs around his hips as her body trembled around him and he could feel his body answering, tightening, coiling, before letting go. He buried himself into her, carrying them both to the pinnacle. Grant lost his ability to think as her body urged his, riding the throes of their desire, taking him to the edge before he leapt over with her.

Bethany wrapped her hands around his face and dragged him down to her, pressing her lips against his, seeking his heat as their mouths fused. Still buried within her, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, breaking their kiss. She tucked her head between his neck and shoulder. Grant trailed his fingers down her spine, unable to deny himself the pleasure of touching her, and felt himself grow hard again. This woman was going to be the slow, very pleasurable death of him.

“Grant?” She said his name on a sweet sigh of breath, heating his chest, her hands curling against him.

“Hmm?” He wasn't ready for this moment to end, wasn't ready to return to reality, where she had a little boy waiting for her return and he had decisions waiting to be made.

“Do we really have to go back?”

“Not until you decide you want to.” His fingers trailed over her shoulder. “We can stay as long as you like.”

She curled into him. “Then I want to lie here and watch the stars come out with you.”

He tipped his head down, inhaling the scent of her, letting his arms tighten around her. He didn't want to let go, wanted to stay like this with her all night. Hell, he'd stay like this with her forever if he could.

He couldn't help but feel as if he'd just stepped into new territory, as if Bethany and James had permanently marked him as theirs, rather than the other way around. James' big blue eyes filled his mind and he couldn't help but smile at the way the boy had so matter-­of-­factly asked if Grant would be his new dad.

He sighed with pleasure. “I'd love to, and we certainly can, but I think there's a little boy who'd be jealous.” Grant felt her tense against him and regretted his words.

“You're right.” She lifted her chin to meet his gaze.

“I didn't mean we should leave now.”

She pressed her hand against his chest and sat up. “I know you didn't, but we shouldn't stay too long.”

Grant could feel her withdrawing from him, pulling away and trying to hide. He could feel her retreating but he wasn't sure how to stop it. Rather than fight her instincts, he decided it would be better to let her have some space, a moment to gather herself.

“I'll be right back.”

Grant went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up before coming back out. She'd pulled the sheet around her but she hadn't left the bed. At least she wasn't running that far away. Grant slid in beside her and pulled her close, curling his body around her back. She let him but he could feel the tension in her, as if there was a wall between them again. Somehow, he had to break it down once and for all.

“Bethany, we need to talk.”

“No, Grant. We don't.”

That wasn't what he'd expected her to say. He needed her to understand how he felt about her. They still needed to talk about what might come next, where he hoped this relationship would lead from this point forward. “Yes, we do,” he said against the back of her shoulder, his lips grazing the side of her neck. “I'm not letting you out of this bed until we do.”

She didn't face him but he felt some of the rigidity leave her spine and she laid her fingers over his forearm around her waist. Her touch ignited the deep yearning in him again. Grant's hand found the curve of her breast, his thumb brushing over a taut peak.

“I have an appointment with my doctor on Monday.”

“That's what you said before.” She sounded uncertain, as if unsure why he was telling her his plans.

“I'll be flying out to Memphis tomorrow night after you and James leave the ranch.”

She stiffened. “For how long?”

His lips found the hollow at the base of her ear. “I'm not sure. It depends on what they say. If they clear me, I hope to be back playing as soon as possible.” Grant felt her entire body coil with apprehension. “It probably won't be with Mustangs though.” Time stopped while he waited for her response.

“And if they don't clear you?” she whispered.

He shrugged. “I don't know. I've been offered a great position as a commentator with a network.” She didn't ask where and he wasn't sure how to tell her it was most likely going to be in New York. “I'll come back, Bethany.”

“But you don't know when or how often or for how long,” she supplied. “In the meantime, I'll just be Grant McQuaid's part-­time fling?”

He moved so she could lie on her back. He wanted to see her face, to look into her eyes. “It's not like that, Bethany. Not for me.”

“Are you sure?”

She was trying to sound confident, as if it didn't matter what ­people thought but he could hear the hesitancy in her voice, the hurt in her tone. He didn't miss the way her eyes misted over, or the way she bit the corner of her lower lip. As much as he wanted to convince her of how special she was to him, he wasn't sure anything he said would be enough.

Grant brushed his lips over hers. “I'm sure. I have never felt like this for a woman before. You and James are everything to me.”

“Would you stay if I asked?”

Grant felt his entire body tense as he processed her question, trying to run through every scenario in a split second. It all came down to one simple fact—­he loved her. The rest of it was just semantics.

“Yes.”

Bethany rolled over, their legs intertwining. Their bodies pressed together and she laid her palm over his cheek. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Grant, I would never ask you to. I've always known deep down that you would have to leave. It's your career and it's not in you to give up without seeing it through entirely. It's okay.”

She sought his mouth, silencing the protests that would have been excuses.

“I'm just grateful for what we've already had, what you've already reminded me of.”

“What's that?”

“That the gift of having is far more beautiful than the pain of losing.”

There was nothing he could say to deny what he knew in his heart, what even Bethany realized. He
had
to leave, if only for closure. For the first time, he hoped that the doctors
wouldn't
clear him. He loved Bethany too much to ask her to wait, to face the life of a football “widow” and until he knew what came next, his life was too uncertain for him to promise her any more. But he'd always faced his career with a single-­minded focus. Now that focus would mean coming up with some sort of plan before he returned. In the meantime, he would show her how he felt about her.

Grant lifted Bethany over him, burying his hands into her hair and stealing her gasp of surprise with his kiss. He might not be able to admit that he loved her yet but he would make sure she felt his love before he left.

G
RANT DOZED WITH
her head on his chest, his heart beating steadily in her ear as her fingertips brushed over the flawless perfection of him. As much as she wanted him to stay, for them to stay this way, she should wake him so they could get back to James waiting at the house. Back to the reality that would crush this euphoria. Back to the real world that was going to snatch him away from her.