The Way We Play (Bradford Boys #2)

Chapter 4

4

Rachel

“ L ift your arms up, down, now cross, cross.” It’s a semi-cool Thursday afternoon, and I’m standing in the shallow end of a heated, jade-blue swimming pool guiding Miss Gina through gentle water aerobics.

“I feel like a balloon.” Miss Gina’s voice is tinged with humor as we bob up and down flapping our arms just below the surface of the water.

“The movement is good for your circulation and balance, and there’s virtually no stress on your joints.” I’m facing her in the water, my braids twisted up on my head in a bun.

“It’s good for my constitution, too.” Her lips twist like she’s sharing a secret.

“Same,” I deadpan.

“If you have pooping problems, they only get worse as you get older.”

I snort a laugh through my nose. Nothing is off-limits at this house.

“We can try adding magnesium to your diet. ”

“Magnesium.” She exhales as she says the word. “Lord, you’d think it’s the cure for everything these days—insomnia, heart disease, constipation, anxiety…”

“It is sort of a miracle mineral. Let’s go in a circle.” I hold her wrinkly hands in the water as we slide our feet and hop. “A lot of our minerals have been stripped out of the soil by factory farming.”

“You sound like one of those health nuts.”

“Sorry, I’ll stop. But if you want to know, just ask me.”

“I want to know about this music. It’s fun.” We change directions, and she adds a twisty motion to her bounce, humming along to “Show Me Love” by Robin S.

I exhale a laugh. “My dad says it’s ridiculous, but it makes me happy.”

“It’s very empowering.” She shakes her finger along with the beat and joins in. “Say what you want…”

I laugh more. “You’re manifesting devotion.”

“With your heart in your hands.” She nods. “I like it.”

“No, kitty, don’t eat the charging cords.” Edward appears at the side of the pool, scooping up the little gray kitten chewing on my phone cord. “I think this would be a good one to take to the restaurant. He’s more of a loner than the others, and he likes people.”

My brother holds the kitten under his chin. He’s wearing his usual They Might Be Giants T-shirt and jeans, and I wonder if he ever notices I have three versions of that same shirt I switch out and wash every week.

“Dylan asked us to pick the cutest one.” I drift to the side of the pool. “I think he qualifies.”

“Dr. Moore said they’re at least six weeks old, so we can get him fixed in a few weeks.”

“Good work, Eddie!” Miss Gina smiles up in my brother’s direction. “You’re such a helpful addition to the group.”

My brother looks down at the kitten who is now swiping the lapel on his jean jacket between its paws and biting it. I don’t know, but I think I see a hint of a smile cross his lips before he nods and walks away. It warms my eyes.

I clear the emotion from my throat as I grab a long, foam noodle, turning to her again. “Thank you for being so kind to him.”

“It’s a pleasure to be kind to kind people.” Miss Gina is still bouncing and dancing to the music. “I want you to find what you’re looking for, too.”

Wrinkling my nose, I blink away my sentimental tears. “What might that be?”

“Hm…” The old lady arches an eyebrow. “Love and devotion?”

I shake my head and hand her the noodle. “I’m fine for now, but it’s time for you to do your knee lifts.”

“Oh, no,” she fake-cries. “Not leg day!”

We both laugh, and I glance around the empty garden. Zane doesn’t work on Thursdays because he records the radio show with Logan. I have no reason to miss his surly butt lurking around, ignoring me, but the thought of him tingles in my mind.

“This looks delicious.” I lean forward on the large, stainless-steel work table beside Dylan in the kitchen at Cooters & Shooters as she blends a giant pot of roasted chile de árbol salsa in an industrial-sized blender.

The scent of onions, tomatoes, and garlic fills the air as I suck on a grape Jolly Rancher, which creates a funky flavor combination in my mouth.

We came straight here from Miss Gina’s, so I’m still in my bikini top and leggings with a long-sleeved wrap-sweater. I’ve taken out the braids, so my hair hangs in kinky waves down my back.

“Chile de árbol is spicy, but not as hot as Habanero.” Dylan tosses a handful of diced white onions into the blender along with the tomatoes and peppers. “It’s right on the edge of hot and medium on the Scoville scale.”

“Chili peppers have three times more Vitamin C than oranges.” Edward is at my side.

He pulled a black, long-sleeved hoodie over his tee, and he’s holding the little gray kitten under his chin.

“It’s true.” Dylan smiles at him. “They can help you lose weight and reduce blood pressure, too.”

“Some people think peppers cause stomach upset, but it’s actually the opposite.” My brother only needs a little encouragement to turn into a walking encyclopedia. “Capsaicin increases the good bacteria in your gut.”

“That does it, you’re hired!” Dylan laughs. “I’ll have you walk around singing the praises of my peppers to our customers.”

“I can be the guinea pig and taste them.” I don’t know the facts, but I do love a hot pepper. “I’ve never met a pepper I won’t try!”

“Be sure to wash your hands with the coconut oil.” Craig taps my shoulder as he passes on his way to the dishwasher. “You don’t want any of that stuff in your eyes or your nose… or your coochie.”

“That can make for some potentially embarrassing situations.” Dylan cuts her eyes at him, and Craig snorts, lifting the lid off the dishwasher and taking out several large, silver bowls.

“Especially if you’re busted helping your fiancé clean it off his?—”

“Craig Schiffer!” Dylan’s voice goes loud, and he waves a hand.

“Nevermind!”

They’re laughing and having so much fun, and I can’t help remembering what Zane said about my father leaving their parents holding the bag on this place. It weighs heavily in my chest, but it looks like things worked out for them.

Still, I wonder if Dylan knows, and if she doesn’t know, I wonder if she’d still be my friend. But how could she not know if Zane does?

“Is that my kitten?” Dylan lifts her chin at Edward, and he nods.

“He looks like a Russian Blue, but it would be impossible for him to be a pure breed.” He holds out the little guy. “Miss Gina doesn’t know the father cat.”

“Where’s Miss Gina this evening?” Dylan turns to me.

“Home.” I shrug. “I asked her if she wanted to join us tonight, but she said she was exhausted from leg day.”

“Aunt Deedaaaay!” Jack’s daughter’s voice echoes through the restaurant just before she bursts into the kitchen. “Daddy said I can have a special treat today, because I didn’t drop a stick all week!”

Kimmie Joy is a blue-eyed, curly brown-haired ball of loud energy.

Dylan’s frown mirrors mine. “What does it mean to drop a stick?”

“It means I didn’t walk in a straight line or I didn’t stop talking during reading circle or I didn’t wash my hands after bathroom break or I didn’t take my tray to the window after lunch or I didn’t?—”

“Jeez Louise, Peanut!” Craig walks over to where Kimmie is counting off on her fingers, scooping her up and onto his hip. “That’s a lot of don’ts.”

She puts her small hand on his shoulder, eyes round. “First grade is a lot harder than kindergarten, Uncle Craig.”

Dylan pulls her lips between her teeth, fighting a laugh before patting her little back. “I bet Uncle Craig can find you a treat.”

“A kitten!” she cries, wiggling to get down. “Can I have a kitten, too? What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have a name.” Edward motions at Dylan. “Your aunt has to name him. ”

“Nope!” Craig cuts in. “Dylan is not allowed to name pets. She’ll call him mushroom or quinoa or some other type of food.”

“I wouldn’t name him either of those things!” Dylan cries. “Why don’t you take him out back, and I’ll let you two come up with a name for him.”

Edward nods, dutifully obeying Dylan’s orders. Kimmie hops along beside him, reaching up to touch any part of the kitten she can reach through his arms.

“Can I hold the kitten, Eddie?” Her high voice is loud, but to his credit, my brother seems to be patient with her.

“He’s really sweet.” Dylan tilts her head, smiling as she watches them go. “What have you decided about school?”

My throat tightens. “I don’t know. I’m so nervous after his last incident, and middle school can be rough.”

“Shew, tell me about it.”

“Where’s my Danger Girl?” We’re interrupted by two handsome giants entering the room.

Logan enters first, looking like he stepped off the pages of a men’s magazine. He’s a jock, but his wealthy background is all over him, from the dark jeans to the expensive-looking navy sweater covering his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

He walks straight to where Dylan is still mixing and blending the salsa, and wraps her long ponytail around his fist, giving it a gentle tug. Her head tilts back, and he covers her mouth with his.

My stomach tightens, and I look down at my hands. I’ve never had a serious boyfriend, and I can’t imagine having one so proud and possessive, he’d walk right up and kiss me in front of God and everybody.

Warmth expands my insides, and I bet I’d like it, though. I think about Miss Gina’s words about love and devotion.

Zane grabs a chip off the counter, seeming not to notice as he passes them. He doesn’t even look in my direction as he continues to the refrigerator.

His dark hair hangs in perfectly messy waves around his collar, and he’s in his uniform of jeans, a T-shirt, and a rolled-sleeve plaid shirt on top.

If Zane were my boyfriend, I’d slide my hands up his chest and push that shirt down his arms. I’ve seen him working in only a T-shirt a few times, and his body is incredible.

Clearing my throat, I stand up and turn to prop my lower back against the silver worktable I’ve been leaning on. Zane Bradford is not my friend. He’s my enemy, remember?

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” Logan’s voice is pure honey.

“The coconut oil is over there.” Craig’s loud voice interrupts their love-fest, and Dylan snorts a laugh through her nose.

“Okay, okay.” She rises on her tiptoes to kiss her fiancé once more. “Love you, now let me finish. The Dare crowd will be demanding hot peppers in less than an hour.”

“I’ll let you finish.” A naughty smile curls Logan’s lips, and he gives her another quick kiss. “Is Allie here? I need to talk to her about hiring an intern at the station.”

“I think she’s checking the pool tables.” Dylan nods in the direction of the main dining hall, and he starts that way.

Chewing my lip, I watch as Zane goes to the hall leading to the back door where Edward and Kimmie are sitting outside with the kitten. He opens the screen door, stepping out, and while Craig and Dylan discuss tonight’s pepper warning, I drift quietly behind him.

“Silver!” Kimmie calls out.

“That’s a horse’s name.” Edward dismisses her suggestion.

As soon as she sees Zane, she’s on her feet holding up her hands to him. He doesn’t even hesitate before lifting her onto his hip, and she puts her curly brown head on his shoulder.

“Eddie doesn’t like any of my names, Uncle Zee.” Her voice is pouty. “And Daddy said I could have a treat because I didn’t drop a single stick all week.”

“Tell me what you’ve got.” His low voice is serious, and he pats her back with one of his large hands .

He’s so sweet with her, I’m pretty sure my ovaries explode. I remember Dylan saying when she was little, Zane would read books to her. They’re five years apart, and I imagine him as a ten-year-old taking care of his little sister. Swoon .

“I said Sprinkles, and Eddie said no. Then I said Sparkles, and he said no again !” Her little voice rises.

“I’m detecting a theme here.” A gentle tease is in her uncle’s tone.

“Sprinkles are colorful and sparkles are orange,” Edward explains.

“So I said Silver, and he still said no!” Her head shoots up, and she gestures with her arms like my brother is being so impossible .

I can relate to her frustration.

“Silver is the Lone Ranger’s horse, and he’s white.”

“Uncle Zane rides horses!” Kimmie announces, and my brow arches. New information.

“How do you feel about Smokey?”

Zane doesn’t push. He just lays the name out there gently, letting them decide what they think. I’ve never heard him talk this way to anyone, and it’s like I’m getting a peek behind his grumpy curtain.

“I like it.” Edward nods. “It’s not a horse, and it’s not a party favor. Kim, meet Smokey.”

“Kim?” The little girl’s nose wrinkles, but she changes her mind just as fast. “You can call me Kim! It sounds like a grown-up lady.”

“I expect it’s your real name, since Kimmie is clearly a nickname.” My brother’s logic is sound if potentially incorrect.

“Can I hold Smokey now, Edward?”

She stretches out her arms, and my brother hesitates. “He’ll probably scratch and try to bite you, and his teeth are like needles.”

“I know!” She bounces on her toes, curling her fingers, and he relents, putting the kitten in her arms .

She immediately clutches him to her chest, swaying side to side. “I love you, Smokey! We’re going to have so much fun together. You’ll see, we’ll be best friends!”

The kitten struggles, but Zane puts his hand on my brother’s shoulder. “Speaking of horses, how would you feel about working with them?”

Edward’s brow furrows. “I’ve never ridden a horse, but I’ve read about them. They’re believed to have an empathic connection with humans. They tap into our need for safety and connection.”

Zane’s brow arches. “Have you heard of equine therapy?”

“Yes.” My brother blinks like he’s retrieving the information. “It’s an emerging realm of treatment for depression, PTSD, neurodivergence, among other things.”

Zane exhales a laugh. “How do you know so much about everything?”

I wonder the same thing all the time.

“I read,” Edward says without a hint of irony. “Readers are leaders.”

A snort exhales from my nose, and Zane straightens, turning to where I’m standing at the screen door.

“Sorry!” I open it slowly. “I was just coming to check on the kids.”

Zane’s eyes move from mine to my mouth to my neck, where they seem to freeze and not drift any lower.

He clears his throat, turning away from me. “I was just telling your brother, I work at Second Chance Farms most mornings. It’s a shelter for old thoroughbreds, and they also provide equine therapy for kids his age and up.”

“Really?” I blink up at him, and when our eyes meet, his stunning blue ones have returned to their usual look for me—impenetrable.

“If Edward would like to join me, the owner said he’s welcome. I think he might get a lot out of it. All the kids do.”

My chest warms, and I don’t care if I annoy him or if he hates me or whatever he says. The fact that he wants to help my brother goes a long way in my book.

“I think that would be wonderful. What do you think, Eddie? Would you like to help Zane with the horses?” I say it slower than is probably necessary, but I can’t help being careful with him.

My brother shrugs, and he’s watching Kimmie now holding the kitten over her head as she dances with him. “I could give it a try.”

Loud music cranks up inside the restaurant, and I hear Allie’s voice on the mic announcing the warning for tonight’s spicy dish. Zane lifts his chin, taking a step to the side.

“Sounds like they’re getting started.” He continues like he’ll walk all the way around the restaurant just to avoid walking past me here at the back door.

“You can go this way.” I step outside, holding the door open for him. “I’ll round up these guys, and we’ll meet you inside.”

He doesn’t even look at me as he jogs up the steps and into the kitchen. His square jaw is set, and his shoulders are so broad. A whiff of sandalwood and cedar, soap and his scent drifts past, and it’s a flash of heat from my neck to my toes.

It’s over as fast as it happened, and I exhale a sigh, looking down at Edward, who’s frowning at Kimmie now rocking Smokey back and forth in her arms.

“She’s going to make him vomit.”

“Come inside with me and get some of Dylan’s salsa.”

Pushing off his knees, he rises, entering the kitchen at once.

That just leaves Kimmie.

“Don’t you want some salsa, KJ?” I call after her.

“Peppers burn my mouth.” She’s rocking the little gray cat in her arms, gazing at him rapturously. “I want to play with Smokey.”

My brow furrows, and I hear the stomp of boots on wood. “Oh! It’s ‘HOT TO GO!’ I love that song. Don’t you want to see the girls dance? We can dance, too. ”

Her head tilts to the side, and she listens to the singing. “Okay!”

She puts Smokey on the grass, and he immediately dashes under the building.

I grab her hand, helping her up the steps. “Do you know the words?”

“It’s just spelling.”

“Do you know the dance?” Her eyes light, and she nods quickly.

“Let’s do it then!” We run into the restaurant, and when we get there, everybody’s on their feet waving their arms. Kimmie goes straight to Craig, and in a sweep, she’s on the bar.