Chapter Fourteen
Kyle had been worried about Val meeting his family. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of them or where he’d come from, they were just a little different to what she was used to. Val had essentially been an only child, brought up by divorced parents mired in a quagmire of unspoken grief, self-recriminations, and guilt.
The Leightons didn’t do anything quietly or unemotionally. They fought loud, they played loud, they loved loud.
All of them.
And they were a plentiful, fertile bunch.
He was one of five. His father one of eleven. There were a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins and grandchildren and second cousins and partners of all the above. And good lord, there were babies. Lots and lots of babies. Every time Kyle turned around, there was another little Leighton coming in the world.
Which meant birthday parties and christenings. Also weddings—the shotgun and the normal kind—and the odd funeral or two. Although the Leightons had longevity in their genes and had proven exceedingly hard to kill.
Val had grown up with a father who’d earned a lot of money during his career and had provided financially for her. He’d brought her Sticky Fingers, for crying out loud. The Leightons were battlers, descended from convicts—some were still at it—and proud of it. They happily played up their underdog status, especially to newcomers, and were self-described bogans.
They liked loud music and loud cars and open houses where family spilled out into the yard and the street and could come and go as they pleased. His mother still had last year’s Christmas lights up on the front of the house. But they hated pretention and were suspicious of anyone who looked like they’d had things come a little too easy.
Or anyone who was getting a little too big for their boots.
Including shit-hot rugby stars. Being with his family helped keep Kyle grounded. But he was used to them.
Sure, he’d brought dates home to his mother before, because she’d missed him when he’d moved out, and he knew she liked all the girly gossip crap and being kept in the loop. But none of them had been a patch on Val, which only made this day so much more important.
He was in love with this woman. And bringing a girlfriend home had never meant this much.
He wanted Val to like his family. Because he loved them and he didn’t know if he could bear it if she didn’t. But, possibly even more telling, he really wanted them to like her.
Not that he should have worried…
They were utterly charmed by his new ranga girlfriend. Gav, his brother, had been the first to use the Aussie term of affection for a redhead, to her face. “Hellz, bro. You scored yourself a ranga.”
Kyle had tensed a little, hoping Val would take it in the spirit it had been intended—he knew some redheads were sensitive about their colouring. She did, laughing like it was, by no means, the first time she’d ever heard the term and giving back as good as she got.
“Better a ranga than a mullet, Gav.”
And it only got better. It seemed everywhere she went she sprinkled a little ranga magic. The guys loved her because she could speak fluent footy, and the women loved her because she loved clothes and shoes and makeup and knew what Lincoln Quinn’s ass really looked like close-up.
And hell if those cupcakes didn’t make her queen of the kids. There was always some little niece or nephew or cousin following her around adoringly. His father thought she was a top chick and his mother was grinning like a loon.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” she murmured as they stood and watched her pushing Bailee—sporting a headband with a unicorn horn—on the old swing set they’d had when he’d been a kid.
Kyle took a long drag of his cool beer. “Yes.” He didn’t see the point in denying it. He was ass over tit in love with her.
“Does she know?”
“No.” She’d dismissed him the night he’d blurted it out and he knew she thought he hadn’t meant it.
“Are you going to tell her?”
He chuckled as he put his arms around his mother’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Yeah. Eventually.”
“You shouldn’t let that one slip through your fingers, baby.”
Kyle was the only one of her offspring who wasn’t yet settled down and producing grandbabies. She was proud of his pro rugby career—she was his biggest supporter—but grandbabies, apparently, beat everything.
“It’s…complicated.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “She’s Griff King’s daughter. We have to…tread a little carefully.”
Especially now Griff was making overtures toward Val. Kyle didn’t underestimate the threat Griff could be to his career if he found out Kyle and Val were seeing each other, but mostly he didn’t want to torpedo their father/daughter reconciliation.
His mother frowned. “Oh baby, why you gotta go and live on the edge all the time?”
Kyle laughed. It was the last thing he wanted where Val was concerned. But it was complicated.
“She sure is pretty.”
Kyle nodded. Although pretty seemed far too tame a word for how hot she looked in those jeans and that loose floral top with the sleeves that sat just off her shoulders exposing the freckles he loved so much. He knew she didn’t have a bra on under that top, and she’d be damn lucky if she got through this party without him pushing her into a dark corner somewhere and yanking it down.
With her hair loose and a bunch of thin silver bracelets on one arm she was like Tinkerbell, jingling wherever she went, spreading her fairy dust. Hell if his dick didn’t twitch every time he heard them.
Bailee wanted off the swing, and Val let her down, laughing as the birthday girl ran off after some bubbles that were being blown. She headed to him, and Kyle held his hand out to her as she approached. She slipped hers into it and smiled at him and his mum.
“You’re a natural with kids.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Mum.”
But Val just laughed. “Who doesn’t love a two-year-old who thinks she’s a unicorn?”
Kyle squeezed her hand gratefully. He should have known she’d fit in with his family because Val was pretty fucking amazing. But he was still relieved.
“Kyle tells me you own a bakery and your Chelsea buns are better than sex.”
Kyle, who’d just taken a mouthful of his beer, almost choked on it as Val laughed and his mother patted his back. “I did not say that.”
“I was paraphrasing,” she said as she poked him in the ribs. “All I can say is that they must be good if a boy from the western suburbs admits to eating buns with pink icing.”
Val laughed again, obviously not insulted by the implication that Chelsea buns were somehow unmanly.
“Kyle says your dad is his coach. He must be proud of you and your business.”
If Val was affected by the clueless blunder from his mother, Kyle couldn’t tell. “He is. He’s quite partial to my croissants, actually.”
There was pleasure and a strand of excitement in her voice, and Kyle’s chest ached for her. “I think its cupcake time.” He didn’t want his mother to pry any more. Just in case she really stepped in it. He kissed his mum on the forehead and gently tugged on Val’s hand, leading her to the platter of cupcakes.
It was impossible to look at them and not remember what he’d done to her on the table, and he smiled and raised an eyebrow as he picked one up and handed it to her. Then, very deliberately, he stuck out his tongue and slowly licked the top off the rosette.
“Mmmm,” he murmured, sliding a hand onto her hip. “Not quite as good as licking it off you, but not bad.”
She gave him a look that said behave, we’re at a kid’s birthday party. But he didn’t care. All he could think about was how he’d iced her like a cupcake and how much he wanted to pull down that top.
Her eyes widened slightly as he took another slow swipe, running his tongue over his lips. “Kyle.” The warning in her voice was lost to the huskiness. She flicked a glance sideways. “Practically everybody here is watching you.”
He grinned. “Good.” He devoured the cake in four bites, then kissed her. “You want to see my trophy collection?” he asked, his lips buzzing hers.
Val laughed. “I bet that line always worked for you, didn’t it?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, but a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I wouldn’t like to brag.”
He took her hand again and was steaming her toward the house when someone stepped in their path. It took a second for Kyle to realise it was his cousin Danny and he stiffened.
Who the fuck invited him?
“Wassup, bro?” A cigarette hung from his bottom lip like he was a fucking gangster. Kyle really hoped some glowing ash would fall into his bushranger beard and set it alight.
“Danny.” Kyle would like nothing more than to tell his cokehead cousin to fuck off, to forcibly evict him. But his aunt was here, and he didn’t want to make a scene in front of her. It wasn’t her fault her kid had listened to every ego-stroking fool stuffing his pockets full of money and drugs and telling him his shit didn’t stink.
Danny’s gaze flicked to Val. “You didn’t introduce me to your girlfriend.” He held out his hand to her. “Hi I’m—”
“I know who you are.”
Kyle smothered a smile as Val politely dismissed him and coolly shook his hand at the same time.
“And your Griff King’s daughter, right?” Danny whistled, not waiting for confirmation. “Bro. You playin’ with fire or what? The old man can’t be too pleased about that.”
Kyle didn’t realise how tense he was holding himself until Val squeezed his hand and he forced himself to relax.
“You always did have a set of brass ones.” He dragged on the cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke, squinting at them through it. “My suspension is up in a couple of months. There’s a hearing before the rugby executive soon to decide my career future. You’ll put in a good word for me?”
Under the pressure of family expectation, Kyle had stuck by his cousin through the court process and paid all his legal expenses. But when he’d implicated Kyle in his shady dealings, that had been the last straw. He’d washed his hands of his entitled prick of a cousin.
He sure as hell wasn’t getting them dirty again.
“Nope, sorry, bro. You’re on your own with that one.”
Kyle saw the tightening of Danny’s jaw and the hard glitter in his eyes despite the hey man, that’s cool way he held up his hands. “Okay. Sure. No worries.”
Kyle didn’t think Danny would give in that easily but he didn’t give a single fuck at the moment. He was here at a family birthday party with his woman. And nothing else mattered.
“Good luck with it,” he said.
Danny was going to need it.
Then he was brushing past his cousin and ushering Val out of the glare of a brilliant, sunny winter day into the relative dark of the house.
“You okay?” she asked, pulling on his hand to slow him as they stepped inside.
“I’m fine.” He kissed her temple, then looked around. “So…this is the house I grew up in.”
The silent look she gave him left him in no doubt she knew he was trying to change the subject. But he could have kissed her again for letting him do it.
She also looked around, and he could see her assessing the modest low-set brick veneer his parents refused to move from. He supposed all she could see was a hot little box in a hot western suburb, but for him it echoed with a thousand happy childhood memories.
“I bought them a place in Manly a few years ago.” He could hear the defensive tone in his voice, but he didn’t want her to think they were living in some kind of poverty out here while he lived it up with a harbour view. “They refused to move into it.”
Val raised an eyebrow. “Are you worried I’m going to judge you somehow? Accuse you of having turned your back on your family?”
Kyle shrugged. “I wouldn’t be the first sports star who got famous and promptly forgot where he came from.”
“But you haven’t. I know how incredibly generous you are, Kyle.” She smiled, and it filled his body with warmth, even though he knew if she’d been reading up on him, then she’d know his family wasn’t exactly snow white.
“You turned up to a two-year-old’s birthday party because she’s your second cousin’s daughter. And, I saw you slip two hundred dollars to that kid…Rob, I think?”
Kyle shrugged. “He’s saving up to buy a special microscope for his science class. He’s a smart kid.”
“Right. Exactly.”
“Terry…Robbo’s father, brought me my first pair of expensive footy shoes. My parents couldn’t afford anything fancy—they could barely afford school shoes for all of us. Neither could Terry. But he got a bonus from work and he just handed it over. My entire extended family came through for me when I was trying to establish my career. Money for training camps, for specialist appointments when I was injured, for the best equipment. Ferrying me around when my parents were too stretched. Turning up to games.”
Kyle had been humbled by such startling generosity from people who pretty much lived hand to mouth. And never forgotten it.
“So you repay them how you can.”
“Yes. Except for my parents. They’re stubborn.”
“What did they say when you brought them the place in Manly?”
“Said they didn’t want the neighbours to think they were cashed-up bogans.”
Val laughed. “I like them. A lot.”
He was ridiculously pleased at her response, but rolled his eyes anyway. “They love you.” And he could definitely relate to that.
She smiled at him, and for long moments they just stood in the kitchen where his mother made a lamb roast every Sunday, staring at each other, the noise from the party outside seeming far away. Her gaze soon grew assessing, though, and he knew her well enough by now to know her busy brain was trying to figure out how to say something she needed to say.
“Val…” His heart started to thump in his chest at her sudden seriousness. She was freaking him out a little, but he didn’t want her to know that. “What are you thinking?”
“I think maybe we should bring this…” She gestured between them. “Us. Out into the open.”
Kyle blinked. That was not what he’d expected. And so much better. “You want to stop sneaking around? Tell everyone?”
“Yeah.” She nodded slowly at first and then more definitely, like the decision was sitting better and better. “I think I do. Why wouldn’t I want the world to know I’m with such a great guy?”
Kyle didn’t think. He knew he wanted it out there. Wanted to be able to tell the world that Valerie King was his woman. He was in no doubt that the shit would hit the fan over it, both with Griff and the team. But he loved her, and he didn’t want to have to pretend he didn’t.
“Any particular reason, after being so opposed to it?”
“Because your family has been so welcoming and happy for us, and I think you and I…we’re not going to be some flash in the pan, are we?”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, watching him intently for confirmation. Kyle’s stomach clenched, relieved that she knew, somewhere deep down, there was a connection between them. “No. Not if I’ve got any say in it.”
A husky half laugh broke the tension between them. “I’ve been worried about how the entire rugby establishment would take it, about the kind of scrutiny that might be put on us, especially given how new this all is, but…well…it’s really only our families we should be caring about, right? It’s not anyone else’s business, is it?”
No, it fucking wasn’t. A flood of endorphins swamped Kyle’s chest for a few happy seconds. Until he realised that, for Val, family and rugby establishment were almost one and the same. That they couldn’t really be separated out. No matter how much he wanted it or how much he’d hoped that Val would get to this point.
She’d said it. Family was all that really mattered. And Kyle was very much afraid their announcement might have a detrimental effect on the tentative rebuild going on between Val and Griff. Estrangement or not, he didn’t think Griff would be happy with any rugby player going out with his daughter, and that was likely to cause friction.
Friction a reconciling relationship didn’t need.
He didn’t want to be the one responsible for setting that process back. Maybe putting her in a position with her father where she might have to choose. That could really fuck with her emotionally, and he would never do that to her.
But he also knew he couldn’t give her any of those reasons, either. Because she wouldn’t want her stuff to get in the way of their relationship. Because she was selfless and stubborn. She’d had to be, to cling to her father after two decades of his rejection.
He wouldn’t put it past her to sacrifice that, though, for them. Or at least not be able to see the long-range impact of outing them now. He knew she saw them coming out as a threat to his career. But not as a threat to her future relationship with her father. But Kyle did.
He knew both relationships could make it through this rocky transition if they were nurtured slowly and gently, if they were given time to take root. He didn’t want to be another reason for Griff to keep pushing his daughter away.
Which meant he was going to have to sound like a total dick and make it about him.
“Kyle?”
“I’m thinking maybe…we should wait a little longer.”
She stilled for a moment. “Oh.” She folded her arms, and he absently noted the tinkle of her bracelets as she closed down a little. “Okay.”
Kyle felt about as low as a snake’s belly. “It’s just that I was thinking you were right about waiting for the end of the season. Your father and I are working together better. The team is accepting me. And I’m playing better than I’ve ever played.”
It was true. There was less of the adrenaline-rush, seat-of-your-pants style playing he was used to, but Griff and the team were teaching him control and patience. It was certainly easier on his nerves and forced him to think strategically. He’d come to the Smoke to be taught by the best and, as Griff had requested, he’d been taking it all on board.
“Oh god, sorry, Kyle.” She slid her hand onto his arm, her expression earnest. “The last thing I want to do is mess up the new team dynamic you’ve got going on. Ignore me.” She flapped a hand dismissively. “I had a little endorphin rush being here with your lovely family.”
Okay. Now he felt lower than a snake’s belly. He placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I had one, too.” He raised her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her knuckles. “I’m so happy you’re here, and my family adores you almost as much as I do. I’m excited to tell the world about us. It’s just a bit of a delay, that’s all.”
“I know.” She nodded. “You’re right. Let’s just stick with the original plan to wait ’til after the finals season.”
Kyle’s chest was so full of love it ached. He didn’t know what he’d ever done to deserve this woman but he was never letting her go. “So…you think we’re going to make the finals, huh?”
She grinned and stepped right up close, her arms sliding around his neck, and his body stirred, despite his shame at having misled her. “I know it.” She kissed him briefly, then tugged on his neck. “Are you taking me to your trophy room or not?”