CHAPTER SEVEN
HE WASN’T KIDDING THAT HE knew all the out-of-the-way places. Sabrina’s heart had pounded when they’d driven into the small town. She’d almost expected to see Brian on every corner, but he wasn’t there. It didn’t mean he hadn’t stayed in Bridle Beach, but thankfully he wasn’t in the alleys and byways where Mal took her.
First, they stopped and got her phone replaced. That was a couple hundred dollars she really didn’t have, but she couldn’t be without a phone. Once everything was transferred and her new phone was working, her messages blew up.
She swallowed hard as she looked at the text message count. And the missed calls.
“Is that him?” Mal spoke with idle curiosity. The sharpness in his gaze belied the seeming nonchalance in his tone.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to look?”
They were standing on the street outside the store, and Sabrina’s palms began to sweat. “I’m not sure I want to.”
“Then don’t.”
She looked up at him.
“Is there anything he can say to make it better? Any way he can tell you that you were mistaken about what happened?”
She shook her head.
“Then delete the messages. Or read them, but don’t let them have power over you.”
Sabrina sucked in a breath—and clicked the icon to bring up the messages.
Brian: Babe, I need to talk to you.
Brian: Babe, where are you?
Brian: Babe, this is all a misunderstanding.
Brian: Don’t call me. Text me and I’ll call you. I’ll explain everything.
Sabrina snorted. Did he really think she was that dumb? Fury bubbled inside her… and she dialed Brian’s number before she could stop herself.
“Dodd Consulting,” Brian said, and her anger flared.
“Can’t talk, babe?”
He hesitated—and a woman’s voice said something in the background before he spoke again. “Not at the moment, no.”
Sabrina wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. Shame rolled over her. And anger. Definitely anger.
“That’s good, because I can. And you need to listen to what I’m telling you. If you ever try to contact me again, I’ll call the police and file harassment charges. You’re a lying sack of shit, Brian, and I thank God I found that out before it was too late.”
She didn’t wait for a reply before ending the call. She stood there and sucked in air, blinking back angry tears and feeling somehow exhilarated at the same time.
“You okay?” Mal’s brows were drawn low as he watched her.
“Absolutely.”
“Hey, if it’s any consolation, you made me want to back up a couple of steps.”
Sabrina laughed in spite of herself. She was feeling shaky and triumphant all at once. “Right. You plow people down for a living. I doubt I scared you that much.”
He grinned. “Nah, probably not. Still, if I were that guy, I’d fear for my nuts if I ever saw you again… So, you ready to eat, tiger?”
“Definitely.”
* * *
He liked her. Mal watched Sabrina tear into a stack of crab legs and laughed when she cursed at how hard it was to get the meat out. He took the leg from her and broke it in two before handing it back. She frowned at him. He was pretty sure it was a mock frown. Then she dipped the meat in melted butter and moaned as she bit into it.
Parts of his body tightened at that sound. He wasn’t a man who usually lacked for company, but with practice and the season starting soon, he’d been more focused than ever. Then there’d been the devastating news about Chris just a week ago, and his world had crumbled from its normal patterns into something that no longer made sense.
Guilt flooded him at the thought of Chris and everything his brother would no longer get to do. Chris had wanted kids. He’d had a fiancée, a fellow soldier he’d been planning to marry in the next year. She was deployed overseas, and the Army hadn’t let her come to the funeral because she and Chris hadn’t been married yet. They only sent soldiers home for family emergencies, not deaths of people who weren’t related by blood or marriage.
Sabrina reached out and touched the back of his hand, and he realized he’d been drifting. Her touch sent a shock of sensation through him. He wanted her to keep touching him, but she pulled her hand back and watched him with sympathetic eyes.
“Do you want to go?”
He picked up his fork and stabbed it into the baked potato that came with his steak. “No, I want to eat.”
And he did eat. The steak was good and tender, and the potato was big and filled with butter and sour cream. Just the way he liked it.
“You were right about this place,” Sabrina said. “It’s really good.”
“This is where the locals eat. Joe’s has been here since I was a kid. It’s not as fancy as some of the places on the beach, I’ll grant you that. You can walk to the beach after dinner, though.”
“What was it like growing up here?”
He shrugged. “Like anywhere, I guess. When you live in a place, you don’t see it the way outsiders do. Bridle Beach has always been a tourist magnet, but it’s definitely grown over the years. Winter is much more crowded than it used to be… which is a good thing for the town.”
“Hey, Mal, everything good?” A pudgy man in a grease-stained apron hovered near the table.
Mal stood and clapped him on the back. “Joe, my man. Great as always. I was telling Sabrina how great the food is here. She agrees.”
“Everything’s wonderful,” she said, smiling that pretty smile of hers that got him in the gut.
Joe reached out and shook Sabrina’s hand, and they exchanged pleasantries. Then his bushy gray eyebrows drew together. “I was sorry to hear about Chris. He was a good kid. Made us all proud.”
Mal’s throat grew tight. “Yeah, he did. And thanks.”
Joe gripped his arm and squeezed. “You do us proud too, Mal. Can’t wait to watch you in action this year. Gonna beat those damned Patriots, right?”
Mal laughed. “Hell, yeah. I’m personally going to crush Tom Brady into the ground.”
Joe snorted. “You’re on offense, kid. Don’t see how that’s gonna happen.”
“Shit happens, man. Dude stands on the sidelines, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, sure does. Well, I’ll let you get back to your dinner. Tell your momma I said hello.”
“I will.”
Joe walked away and Mal sat back down.
“He was nice.”
“Joe’s a great guy. His brother was the football coach at Bridle Beach High for many years. He died of cancer a couple of years ago.”
“So he was your coach then?”
“Yeah. I wanted to be a quarterback, because that was the cool position to play, but he’s the one who told me I was destined to be a tight end.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what any of that means. Well, maybe I know what a quarterback is. And I do know that Peyton Manning holds some kind of record, by the way. I learned that on ESPN this morning.”
Mal grinned. “You were watching ESPN?”
Her cheeks looked a touch red as she reached for her drink. “I wanted to understand what it is you do. You talked about it last night, and I didn’t understand half of it.”
Mal couldn’t help but laugh. It was refreshing to be out with a woman who didn’t know the first thing about football. Most of the women he met were, well, groupies of one kind or another. He had money and fame, and it went with the territory.
“You realize you have a professional team in Nashville?”
“Yes, I realize that. The Titans. Doesn’t mean I know anything about it, though.”
“You’ve never been to a game?”
“No way. When you don’t know what’s happening, it’s rather boring.”
Boring. Now that he didn’t get. She’d said it yesterday too. He threw his napkin on the table. “You done?”
She nodded. He stood and offered her his hand.
“Where are we going?”
Her hand slipped into his, and he tried to ignore the jolt of electricity that rolled up his spine. “To watch a movie.”