The Way We Play (Bradford Boys #2)

Chapter 5

5

Zane

M y sister is behind a long table serving up chips and salsa as fast as she can with Allie right beside her. Craig is on top of the bar in a blond wig with a line of waitresses behind him, twisting their hips and curling their arms over their heads to spell out the letters to the loud blast of the music.

“It’s the perfect song for a hot pepper night.” I recognize that sassy voice strolling up behind me the minute I hear it.

“Sandra.” I turn around, reaching out to shake her and Gloria’s hands. “You made it. I’m glad—you’ll get to meet Eddie.”

The two ladies are dressed in their no-nonsense jorts as always. It’s exactly what I need to get the sight of Rachel’s perfect tits barely covered by a tiny bikini top out of my head. Christ .

I had to get away from her when I walked into the kitchen and saw her leaning forward on that table.

“This salsa is amazing!” Sandra crunches a chip and immediately shoves another one into her mouth. “Your sister made this? ”

“Dylan loves hot peppers.”

“We should’ve made this trip sooner.” Gloria’s eyes are on the nubile waitresses in Daisy Dukes, dancing on the bar and waving their arms. “I had no idea all of this was going on.”

“It’s probably a health-code violation.” I exhale a low chuckle, thinking of my sister’s ongoing complaints about the Coyote Ugly -inspired dance party that breaks out every Thursday night along with the hot peppers.

“I’m not complaining if you’re not!” Sandra slaps my shoulder.

I shake my head, because it’s impossible to talk over the music. I’ve gotten to where I hardly notice until someone new arrives. Glancing to the front, I see Dylan has served up the last salsa basket. Now she’s sipping a beer as she leans back against Logan’s chest watching the party.

His arms are around her, and joy is all over her face. It makes me think of what Garrett said today about being alone and how long it’s been since I had my arms around someone. It makes me think of Rachel, and her bright green eyes and occasional smile.

I don’t give her much reason to smile at me. What would it be like if she did? My stomach burns, and I focus on my brothers meddling in my business.

“Your sister should go to culinary school,” Sandra shouts in my ear. “Are you going to eat that?”

I shake my head, handing her my serving of chips and salsa. “My brother says the same thing.”

Dylan loves making food and watching people eat it, but she says doing it for a living would steal the joy. She could be right, but our regular cook Thomas doesn’t seem to have lost any joy making the best burgers in three states.

Thomas has been with us since we opened the restaurant. He used to play with our dad, and he’s got the game on in the kitchen on his little black-and-white television. It’s also on the big screens above the bar—over Dylan’s head where she can’t see them, I also notice .

She hates watching us play.

Or I guess, Garrett and Hendrix play.

Beside her, Allie dances with her son Austin. He’s a sophomore now, and he’s on Jack’s high school football team as QB-2. Her eyes keep flickering to Coach Jack who’s ignoring all the commotion as he watches Garrett and Hendrix on the big screens with his arms crossed.

Allie’s good people. A single mom from New Orleans, she moved to our neck of the woods three years ago with Austin to be the school librarian and to get away from her drug-dealer ex-husband.

Her ex is now doing time at Angola, and I watch as she pushes a dark wave of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks flush when Jack steps forward for a fresh beer, and I think my brother might be the most clueless person I know.

Just then, Kimmie Joy races in, and Craig pulls her up onto his hip on the bar. They immediately stretch out their arms doing choreography everyone seems to know. Eddie is here, Kimmie is here, and dammit, I scan the entire room looking for Rachel.

She’s standing near the back wall holding a paper tray and shoving a chip laden with hot salsa into her mouth. A tall, lanky guy stands over her with his arm propped above her head, and my throat tightens.

It’s Sam Allen. He’s five years younger than me, the same age as Dylan, who I happen to know is the same age as Rachel. His light brown hair is long in the front, hanging over his eyes like some dumb skater boy, and he’s clearly flirting.

I think he works in animal control. He smiles, leaning closer, and I want to push him into the bay. What the fuck?

The driving, cheerleader music starts to fade, and Gloria’s voice is easier to hear. “I was just thinking it might be fun to host a pool tournament here, like as a fundraiser for the farm?”

My brow furrows. “The farm needs money?”

“Not really. But it would be a great way to raise awareness, and any money we earn could be used for scholarships or to cover our current students who can’t pay.”

I’m nodding before she finishes speaking. “It’s a great idea. I’ll talk to Dylan, but I’m sure she’ll be onboard.”

“Sounds like a win all the way around.” Sandra clinks the neck of her Corona against mine.

They continue brainstorming the details while I fight to keep my eyes from returning to where Sam is leering at Rachel. His gaze slides down her neck, and my fist clenches.

Gloria is going on about giving the kids forms so they can get sponsors. She’s saying how it could be like a walk-a-thon where they secure a certain amount of money per pocket.

Sandra thinks this is a great idea, but I’m getting more annoyed by the second.

Rachel licks a drop of salsa off her lips, laughing, and her chin lifts as she says something to Sam. He grins, reaching down to wipe her chin with his thumb, and a low growl vibrates in my throat. She lifts her hair off her shoulder, and her back arches. The movement lifts her perfect breasts higher, and that fucking bikini top moves beneath the thin, wrap sweater she’s wearing.

Her nipples are pointed, and Sam’s practically drooling on her body.

“Excuse me.” My tone is abrupt as I walk away from my friends in the direction of Rachel and Sam the slobbering jerk.

I hear Sandra’s voice say something behind me, but my vision has tunneled. As I get closer to the two of them, I can hear their conversation.

“It’s a fun song. I just don’t know it very well.” Rachel’s voice is sweet, and as the song ends, Craig is already cueing up a new one.

“Fantasy” by Mariah Carey starts, and Rachel squeals, jumping up and down with her arms over her head.

“I love this song!” She twists her hips, moving in time with the music. “That’s my jam!”

I swear, Sam’s tongue rolls out like one of those cartoon wolves, and I want to wrap it around his neck and strangle him with it.

“You’re pretty enough to be on the bar dancing.” His voice is thick, and I can practically see the semi in his pants.

I want to punch it.

“Thanks.” Rachel blinks away embarrassed. “But I don’t work here, so…”

She blinks in my direction, and when our eyes meet, she jumps slightly, lowering her beer and stepping away from Sam.

“Zane?” It’s a breathless laugh, possibly nervous. “Hey.”

“Hi, Zane!” Sam steps forward, extending a hand. “I haven’t seen you since you got home. I wanted to tell you I watched all your games, and that injury was?—”

“Thanks.” I don’t even look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but would you come with me? I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh.” She looks from me to Sam. “I guess… Do you mind, Sam?”

“No way! No problem.” He nods. “Can I get your number before you go?”

Now I really want to punch him in the junk.

“Hurry before they leave.” I place my hand on her elbow.

I’m not gripping her, but she can feel the pressure of my touch. I’m sure it confuses her as much as it confuses me. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I so pissed? I don’t have time for these questions.

I guide her away before she can respond to Sam’s request, but halfway across the dining hall, she jerks her arm out of my grip.

“What are you doing?” she snaps.

I like that she’s mad. I need her to be mad so I can get my head out of my ass.

“Gloria is here.” I don’t look at her. “She owns the stables where I work. I thought you might want to meet her since she runs the equine therapy program. ”

“Oh.” Her tone changes at once. “I’d love to meet her. Of course. Please.”

I lead her across the dining hall where everyone is dancing to Mariah Carey to where Gloria and Sandra are standing side by side bopping along.

They’re not great dancers, but I can tell they’re having fun. Every so often they lean into each other and say something.

Sandra’s eyebrow arches when I approach with Rachel, and I don’t have to ask what she’s thinking.

“Gloria, Sandra, this is Edward’s older sister Rachel.” I gesture between them. “Rachel, Gloria owns Second Chance Stables and runs the equine therapy program there.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Rachel reaches out to clasp Gloria’s hand in both of hers. “I’ve read about equine therapy, and I think it would help Edward so much.”

“Is he special needs?” Gloria frowns, and I realize I only told Sandra about his situation.

“Very mildly,” Rachel answers quickly. “He had a little incident in Birmingham… At school. Some boys were making fun of him, and I think… I think he punched one of them in the nose. He was suspended, and they wanted to put him on medication. So I brought him here. I’m kind-of home-schooling him for now, but I know he needs to be in school. I’m working on that part.”

She seems nervous, and her voice grows more apologetic with every new piece of information she provides. It’s all new to me, and as she unfolds their story, protective anger surges hotter in my chest.

“Edward’s not a fighter.” My tone is sharp, and Rachel blinks up at me confused.

“No, he’s not.” She watches me like she doesn’t understand me at all.

I’m not sure I understand, but I don’t like hearing about her fighting for her brother all by herself. It shifts something in my chest. It makes me want to help her, protect her, and we don’t have that kind of relationship .

We don’t have a relationship.

Gloria puts her other hand over Rachel’s still holding hers. “I think you made the right call, and I’m sure he’ll find what he needs at our ranch. I’ll work with him.”

“You’re so kind.” Rachel’s voice breaks, and I have to look away from the two of them.

I look around the room, and I notice Sam is waiting where we left him. I guess he’s wondering if I’ll bring her back or let her go to him.

He can get lost, because I’m not doing either.

She and Gloria finish their conversation, and when she starts to return, I catch her arm. “Do you know where Edward is?”

The burn in my chest has nothing to do with worrying about a twelve-year-old boy. Edward would be fine in Newport if he were six. He’s simply the first thing my caveman mind grabs in its attempt to keep her from going back to Sam.

“He was in the kitchen with Thomas last I checked.” Her eyes blink wider. “Did something happen?”

“No.” My tone is flat. “But Thomas is watching the game.”

“You don’t think he’s—” She starts when her brother walks up to where we’re standing.

Her shoulders drop, and the relief that floods her features almost makes me feel guilty. Until I see Sam watching her.

“I’d like to go.” Edward’s voice is tense, and if I had to guess, I’d think he’s reached his limit on noise and celebration for the night.

“I’m ready, too. I have to work tomorrow.” Rachel blinks around the room. “I need to pay my bill?—”

“I’ll take care of it.” My hand is on her shoulder again, and my eyes remain above her neck.

She shakes her head. “I can’t let you pay for us.”

“What did you have? The Dare Dish is free, and you had what? One beer?”

She tilts the longneck in her hand, pressing her lips together. “I had two. ”

“I’m sure we won’t miss two beers, and there’s food at the house if you want to eat something.” I’m not sure how hypoglycemia works, but there’s sugar in beer. She should be okay. “I’ll walk you back.”

“Okay.” Her shoulders drop as she relents.

I pause to say goodnight to Sandra and Gloria. I motion in Edward’s direction, and the two of them understand right away. This type of party is not ideal for anyone with sensitivity issues.

Edward’s body is tense as we walk the short distance from the restaurant on the bay to my family’s sprawling home on the bluff. The farther we go, the more he relaxes.

“I’m sorry.” Rachel’s voice is gentle. “You know, you can always leave if it’s too much—I’ll understand.”

He nods, watching his feet as he walks. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Oh…” It’s laced with guilt, and I don’t know why I take that as my cue to jump in.

“I’m glad you were there to meet Gloria and Sandra. They’re not always at the stables when I get there. It’s usually pretty early.”

He nods. “I’ve heard you. I’m always awake at that time.”

“In that case, you can ride with me.”

We reach the house, and I lead them to the kitchen. “If you’re hungry, we’ve got plenty of leftovers or sandwich stuff.”

“Thomas made me a hamburger.” Edward’s tone is flat.

“He did?” Rachel’s brows shoot up. “I didn’t know. I’ll pay for it.”

“Stop.” I hold up a hand. “Thomas makes us all hamburgers all the time. Ground beef is not that expensive.”

“I’m not taking advantage of your generosity, especially considering you don’t like me at all.”

Her jab makes me want to argue. Instead, I only say, “You’re not.”

Frowning, she puts a hand on her hip. “Who are you, and what did you do with the Zane Bradford I know? ”

It’s a fair question, and it’s one I’ve been asking myself.

I don’t have an answer, so I grab a water bottle out of the fridge and start for the stairs. “Goodnight.”

She makes a noise like she’ll stop me, but I don’t give her the chance. I don’t want to talk to her anymore. I don’t want to look at her standing in my kitchen with her blonde hair hanging in crimped waves over her breasts.

I need to take a shower and get my head straight.

Standing under the spray, I brace a hand against the wall and all I can see is her sexy body moving to the music, her blonde hair swaying and that bikini top sliding to the side almost revealing a rosy nipple.

My cock hardens, and my hand lowers to cover it as I allow the images to flood my mind. Her soft body sitting on my lap, lifting her full breasts to my mouth…

How long has it been? Garrett’s question is in my ears. My hand slides over my tip, and I rest my forehead against my fist on the shower wall as my hips begin to rock. I imagine sliding my thumb along her jaw. I imagine tracing my tongue along the seam of her full lips. I imagine her bouncing as I fuck her, and I groan.

I picture turning her body so her back is to my chest, lifting her leg and sliding deep into her wet heat. I hear her voice as soft pants, desperate whimpers. I want my hands all over her, lifting, clutching, squeezing.

My hand moves faster, jerking as I picture it, up and over my tip. I can see our bodies rocking together, melting into one as her fingers thread in the side of my hair as she says my name.

“Fuck,” I groan as the orgasm grows tighter in my pelvis.

I’ve been living like a monk for too long, and no matter how I try to distance her, Rachel is a walking, breathing temptation.

My hips jerk, and my mind narrows. Her soft voice is in my ears, her hips twerk, igniting my brain, and with another pull, come shoots through my cock, spilling into the drain in long streams. A shuddering moan quivers in my stomach, and my knees bend.

“Fuck, Rachel…” I shake my head, fumbling for control. What am I doing?

It takes a minute for me to recover, to rebuild the blasted wall I created to keep her out—along with everyone else.

I clean up myself and all evidence of what just happened in the shower. I grab a towel and dry myself before wrapping it around my waist and applying deodorant.

When I’m ready to emerge, I’m back to calm, controlled. I hope they’re all good and asleep. The last thing I want is to see her tonight.

I open the door slowly, peeking into the dim hall, when she appears so fast, I almost holler.

“Shit,” I hiss, taking a step back as she pushes through the door.

“It’s about damn time.” Her voice is low and sharp. “I know you’re used to having the upstairs to yourself, but all my stuff is in here, too.”

“I’m sorry.” I step out into the hall, feeling a little shook.

She only slams the door in my face.

Exhaling a breath, I look down at myself standing in the hall in only a towel, still recovering from that orgasm provoked by her. The shower starts, and I almost laugh at my dumb ass.

I totally deserved that. At least I got my deodorant.

I’m in my bedroom several minutes later when the bathroom door opens again. I’ve pulled on joggers and a long-sleeved tee, but I still need to brush my teeth. Rubbing my palm over my eyes, I want to wait until I’m sure she’s settled.

Walking over, I sit on the bed and pick up the book I’ve been reading.

A soft knock at the door draws my attention, and I look up to see her standing there in sage green sweatpants and a long-sleeved, thin T-shirt. Her hair is down and her face is freshly washed and has a shine like she put some sort-of cream on it .

She looks ready for bed.

She looks really fucking amazing.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m finished in the bathroom.” I can’t tell if she’s apologizing or simply being courteous.

I decide not to go there.

“Thanks.” I nod, setting the book aside and standing.

“What are you reading?” She enters my room, and I realize for the first time how much shorter than me she is.

Somehow she always seemed taller at a distance. Here, in my bedroom, her head only comes up to the center of my chest.

“ The Sun Also Rises ,” I answer, and her whole face grimaces. I almost laugh. “What?”

“That book is so depressing! Why would you read that?”

“It was on the bookshelf, and I picked it up.” I turn it over in my hands, examining the illustrated hardcover. “It’s a fancy special edition.”

“The hero is impotent.”

“The heroine is a nympho.” I don’t know why I’m defending Jake Barnes.

“She’s only with two men in the entire book, and one of them’s a bullfighter.” Her tone is sharp. “Bullfighters are hot, and she really seems to like him. So she has sex. That doesn’t make her a nympho. You could say she’s a drunk more than you could say she’s a nympho.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I hold up my hands like she has a gun on me.

“No wonder you’re always in a bad mood if this is what you’re reading.”

“I guess you think I should read one of Dylan’s romance books instead.”

“You should. She has some good ones.” She stomps out of the room, and my brow lowers. What is she doing?

I don’t have to wait long to find out.

“Try this one.” She shoves a light blue paperback into my hands with the words Archer’s Voice stamped on the front. “It’s way more uplifting than that awful slog.”

“I actually like Hemingway.”

“You’ll like this one better. Maybe it’ll improve your mood.”

I turn the book over, deciding not to argue. A few seconds pass, and she doesn’t leave. Setting the book aside, I look at her. She’s still frowning, but not like she’s annoyed.

“What?”

“You were really good with the kids tonight.”

Not what I expected her to say. “What kids?”

“Kimmie and Edward. When they were picking out names for the kitten? You were so good at smoothing things out between them. I was impressed.”

“It’s no big deal. Kids just want to be heard. They want you to listen.”

“It was a different side of you.” She tilts her head and smiles up at me.

My throat tightens, and I put my hands on the chair to keep them from touching her. I’ve wanted to touch her all night.

“I don’t have sides.”

She laughs low and soft, and my dick responds to the sound. “Everyone has sides, parts of themselves they try to hide for whatever reason.”

That .

I use her oblique confession to reestablish my resistance. “What are you trying to hide?”

Her brows shoot up and she blinks quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I’ve got to get up early.” I step to the door, holding it for her to go. “Tell Eddie to be ready at six a.m. sharp.”

“He’ll be ready.”

She steps into the hall, and I shut the door.