Rush (Eligible Receivers #3)

Chapter Eleven

Reloading the roller with paint, Linc turned back to the wall and continued rolling out even lines. This painting business wasn’t as challenging as he’d thought it would be.

After leaving the hardware store, they’d picked up Sophie and had dinner. Then, when she’d fallen asleep, he and Nora got out the paint supplies and started to tackle the bedroom walls—her doing the delicate work by cutting in with a brush and him rolling out the large areas. He liked the pale blue shade far better than he thought he would. Looking at the tiny swatch in the store, he’d been skeptical, but Nora had convinced him it would look great and since her eye for color was most likely better than his, he’d agreed to give it a try. She’d been right. The pop of color sandwiched between the white crown molding at the top of the wall and the baseboard at the bottom added character to the otherwise plain room.

Stepping back to inspect the section he’d just finished, he looked over his shoulder to see Nora painting around the door. Her left hand moved, grabbing his attention, and the bareness of her finger was glaringly obvious after seeing his ring there all afternoon. She’d taken it off before getting to work, not wanting to get paint on it, and he was surprised how much the simple act of its removal had such a huge impact on his emotions.

With head bowed in concentration, her thick hair swept up into a messy bun revealed wispy hair that flirted with the skin at the nape of her neck. Captivated by the sight of such smooth perfection, it was hard to look away. He didn’t usually fixate on the back of a woman’s neck. Her tits? Sure. Her ass? All day. But for some strange reason—like all the strange reasons when it came to Nora—he was fascinated with that small patch of skin. His lips would tuck into the spot perfectly and her skin would be warm and carry the faint scent of flowers and her.

As if sensing his perusal, she turned her head, catching him staring. “Done?” Her eyes stayed on him for a few beats before shifting to the wall behind him. “It looks good. If you ever quit football, you can get a job as a house painter.” She chuckled at her own joke.

He moved toward her.

Her smile vanished as he grew near, replaced by a small frown. “What’s wrong?”

He brushed his thumb just above the ridge of her jaw. “You’ve got a little paint on your cheek.”

Her smile returned. “Well, you’ve got paint in your hair.”

His eyes were drawn to her lips as she spoke, reminding him of their kiss earlier that afternoon. Even knowing it had been staged for the sake of their audience, her reluctance to participate had grated. That her resistance was of his making and his own damn fault only chafed more. But he wouldn’t go back on the promise he’d made himself no matter how much he wanted her. Nora was an all or nothing kind of girl. And not for the likes of him.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want her.

He ran his thumb along her jawline again because he couldn’t seem to stop himself and her smile faded.

She took a step back, removing his touch and set her brush down. “I’m going to get some water. Can I bring you any?”

He balled his hand into a fist. “No thanks. I’m good.”

Her chin dipped in response, then she skirted around him and was out the door.

He was left staring at the empty doorway, still breathing in the faint floral scent Nora had left behind when she walked past him and knew he was totally fucked.

****

“Absolutely not.” Nora stood, feet planted, looking ready for a fight, but this was one matter Linc would not be swayed from nor compromise on.

“It wasn’t a suggestion. You’re sleeping in my room tonight and that’s final.” The hour had grown late while they finished painting the room so it would be done before the furniture arrived in the morning. He was tired and in no mood to argue.

“Linc, seriously, I’m not kicking you out of your bed. I’ve been sleeping on the couch at Oz’s for weeks. Here there’s no difference.”

“The difference is, I won’t allow it.”

He knew he’d used the wrong approach when her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “You won’t allow it?”

Yep, that had definitely been the wrong thing to say, but that didn’t change the fact he would still get his way come hell or high water. He just needed to change tack. “I have to get up early in the morning to go on my run. I don’t wanna have to worry about making noise and waking you up.”

She shrugged, managing to make the action look aggressive. “I’m a heavy sleeper.”

Stubborn woman. “It’s late and I’m tired. Can we just jump ahead to the part where you do as I ask?”

Her chin jutted, joining her eyes which narrowed further. “How about we jump ahead to the part where I leave and come back in the morning?”

He stared into her eyes. Studied the expression on her face. She’d meant that.

Fuck.

He wouldn’t be the victor in this argument.

Though it truly grated, he threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine. You win.”

A triumphant smile instantly transformed her features. “Thank you.”

Defeat tasted of sawdust, coating his tongue and drying out his mouth so all he could manage was a curt nod before heading upstairs. Hating to lose is what made Linc such a good athlete. But it seemed, given her clever tactics, Nora hated to lose even more. That made her a challenging adversary, and despite his aggravation, he was grinning by the time he reached his room.

Too exhausted at the prospect of showering, he pulled off his t-shirt but left his basketball shorts on and climbed under the covers. He expected to be asleep within minutes. He wasn’t. The thought of Nora sleeping on the couch was driving him slowly insane no matter how hard he tried to force his mind to be quiet.

A half hour later and still not asleep, he threw off the covers and stormed back downstairs. He paused at the entrance to the living room.

Nora was fast asleep, one arm positioned over her head, the other flung out to the side, supported by thin air. From the neck down, she was covered with a light-weight blanket. All except for one smooth, creamy leg bent at the knee with the misplaced blanket revealing a glimpse of hot-pink panties.

Quickly averting his gaze, he concentrated his thoughts on the matter at hand—getting Nora upstairs in his bed without waking her. Even dead weight, she was light as he lifted her into a cradle hold, being careful not to jar her. Same with on the stairs, stepping softly and slowly so as not to miss a tread. Not lying about being a heavy sleeper, she never woke up, even when he straightened her blanket to make sure she was fully covered.

Satisfied she looked comfortable, he headed back downstairs, threw himself on the couch, and instantly fell asleep.

****

Linc could tell Nora was upset. She didn’t say it in so many words, but her actions screamed it. She and Sophie were already up by the time he returned from his run. He found them sitting at the breakfast nook, eating oatmeal and toast, Sophie drinking juice and Nora coffee. Nora didn’t acknowledge him by look or deed when he walked in, but Sophie greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, Peanut. Is your breakfast good?”

She nodded, taking a scoop for emphasis and stuck it into her mouth.

Nora still didn’t look up from her bowl when she said, “There’s fresh coffee made if you want some.”

“Thanks. I’ll grab a cup after I shower.” He was a sweaty mess and knew he stank to high heaven.

He didn’t get a response. Not even eye contact.

The kitchen was empty when he came back down twenty minutes later. He poured himself a cup of coffee and made his way to the living room. It was empty too. Looking out into the backyard, he saw Nora pushing Sophie on the swing set.

The sliding-glass door made a soft swoosh as he slid it open and then closed after stepping out onto the patio. He made his way to the play area he’d had built shortly after he and Sophie had moved in and planted himself on the wrought-iron bench which sat on the outskirts.

A tiny hand came up in a wave. He waved back, taking a sip of coffee. Nora still ignored him.

After a few more minutes, growing tired of the swing, Sophie jumped off, running to climb up the ramp that led to her fort. From where Linc sat, he could see she started playing with her kitchen playset and knew from past experience, he’d be pretending to eat a meal she’d prepared soon. Now free from her duty, Nora didn’t come to sit by him. Instead, she sat in the swing Sophie had just vacated.

After another minute, Linc sighed, set his coffee cup down on the concrete under the bench, then made his way over, his feet springing on the rubber mulch. He eyed the empty swing next to Nora but thought better of sitting on it. Even if the soft rubber seat could support his weight, he doubted his wide body could squeeze in.

He planted a shoulder against a wooden support beam instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “Want to tell me why you’re upset?”

“Not really.” At least she didn’t instantly deny her anger like so many people would.

“I’m not gonna let it go until you do.”

Her chest expanded and collapsed in a deep breath before he finally got her eyes, which were gorgeous even squinting at him in annoyance. “I’m mad about last night.”

His brain whirled, trying to connect dots that had no origin. “What about it?”

Her jaw flexed. “Think.”

The gears in his head rotated again, coming up with only one reason. “You’re mad because I put you in my bed?”

He received a tight smile then a scornful, “Bingo.”

For the life of him, he didn’t understand. “Why? My bed is more comfortable, and I knew you’d sleep better.”

Her chest expanded and collapsed again, this time with an audible huff. “Forget the fact I specifically told you I wanted to sleep on the couch and you blatantly ignored my wishes—which is enough to be pissed about—did you stop to think how I would feel waking up in a strange room, not knowing how I got there?”

Shit. No, he hadn’t thought of that.

“And you of all people should know better.”

His shoulders sagged in defeat. Well fuck, he was going to lose this argument with her too. He didn’t beat around the bush when admitting his mistake. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“You made it very clear you wanted to keep this relationship strictly professional. I understand we’re in a situation that makes it okay for you to touch me at will while we’re in front of the public, but in private, it’s not okay. I’m not your real fiancée or even your real girlfriend.”

She was right again. Since his dad had first had the talk with him as a preteen to one of the last conversations they’d had before he’d entered the draft, he’d been taught the importance of consent. He’d never crossed that line before. The part that really sucked was he hadn’t felt like he’d crossed that line last night either—because he thought of Nora as his.

But she wasn’t.

He’d made damn sure of that back in California.

If he didn’t like it when guys tried to pick her up or that he sure as hell didn’t want her sleeping on a lumpy fucking couch, he had no one to blame but himself. And that was the rub. Because regardless of all the reasons why Nora and he shouldn’t be, he was starting to want them to be. He rubbed a spot on his chest that suddenly ached. He was an idiot. “You’re right. I should’ve known better than to touch you while you were sleeping. I hadn’t been thinking.”

He took the steps that separated them, crouching in front of her yet keeping his distance, proving he could give her personal space. Even still, he was close enough that with the sun shining down and its rays kissing her hair, he could see all the colors mixed with the brown—strands of gold, bronze, and even the palest blond. “I’m sorry and I won’t do it again,” he said sincerely.

“And you understand why what you did was wrong?”

“I understand. It was unacceptable. Can you forgive me?”

Her eyes bore into his, the green popping against the darkness of her thick, long lashes. It took a minute, but she finally relented. “I guess at this point it would be petty not to. So, yeah, okay.”

Not the most enthusiastic of responses, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, so he’d take it. By way of a second apology, he twisted his lips into a small smirk and asked, “Want me to push you on the swing?”

That got him a reluctant half smile and the lifting of one shoulder. “Sure.”

He stood, got behind her, and grabbed the swing by the chains. Then he pulled back and up as far as his arms could lift and let her fly.

And the laughter that followed, though maybe didn’t cure it, went a long way to soothe the ache he still felt in the vicinity of his heart.