Chapter 13—Teamwork

Amelia studied Brick. He’d turned whiter than freshly fallen snow. With his tan, she wouldn’t have thought that was possible.

“Brick?”

He didn’t react. Only stared straight ahead.

“Marty?” She put a hand on his arm, and he jerked away from her. Rising to his feet, he shuffled zombielike out the glass doors to the deck. Amelia hurried after him. He slumped against the railing, his hands shaking, his eyes haunted.

“Macy’s mother was coming to see me. She was bringing Macy to meet me.”

“That’s your off-ramp.”

“She died on that ramp. Just before the preseason was to begin last year.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

Amelia squeezed his arm, wishing she could do something but knowing she probably couldn’t.

“I didn’t even know it. Why didn’t someone tell me?” He shook his head over and over, leaning on the railing and covering his face in his big hands.

Amelia approached him, placing a hand on his broad back. His big body shook. She rubbed his back in slow circles. “It wasn’t your fault, Brick.”

“I know,” came the muffled response. “But all the same, if she hadn’t been bringing Macy to meet me, she’d still be alive. That’s why Macy’s grandmother said what she said in her letter to me.”

“What did she say?”

“Her mother has gone to heaven, and that’s on you.”

“It’s not on you, Brick. Don’t blame yourself.”

He looked up at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “But it is on me. Someone came to the SHAC that day. Demanded to see me. Claimed she had information I’d want to know. Gave them her name. I told our security guys I’d never heard of her. They had to call the police to get her to leave. After that she must have decided to go to my house.”

“Are you sure it was her?”

“I think so.” He nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“How would she know where you lived?”

He shrugged. “Maybe hired a PI or something. Who knows? If I’d agreed to see her that day, she’d still be alive. I deprived Macy of her mother. And now all she has is a shitty father.”

“You’re not a shitty father. You’re learning. And furthermore, you didn’t contribute to her death. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Other than fucked so many women over the years that their names mean little or nothing to me.” His curled his lips in disgust.

She couldn’t argue that point, but she doubted he was an exception when it came to young, good-looking athletes with the world and women at their feet.

“Brick, you didn’t do this. You aren’t responsible.”

“I know that. Deep down, I truly do, but tell that to my heart, and tell that to Macy. Do you think she knows?”

Amelia shook her head. “She’s never said a word.”

“She has to remember the crash that took her mother’s life. Did you see that car? It was so crushed that there was no guessing what the make and model was.”

“Brick, don’t beat yourself up over this. I don’t think Macy blames you.”

“Are you so certain?”

She wasn’t certain about anything, but she doubted Macy would have kept quiet if she did blame him.

He straightened and met her gaze. Agony and self-loathing simmered in the depths of those deep brown eyes.

“Brick.” She reached out and touched his face. He laid his cheek against her hand and closed his eyes momentarily.

“I need you, Ammie.”

“I know.” She couldn’t refuse him, not with the raw emotion roughening his voice and the starkness in his eyes. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back inside, down the hall to his bedroom. She locked the door and turned to him. He stood in the middle of the room, glancing around as if to get his bearings.

Amelia captured his gaze and managed her best sultry smile. Once she had his full attention, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it aside, followed by her T-shirt. The anguish in his gaze slowly faded and was replaced by desire, hot and smoldering and needy.

He needed her.

His gaze settled on her bra, or more likely what was under it. He licked his lips and groaned. She winked, liking the power she had over him, and not the least bit repentant about seducing the bad boy. Maybe she would be later, but right now, this was the best idea she’d ever had.

To hell with her baggage and his.

They were two people seeking comfort in this moment, and they were going into this with their eyes open. At least, she was. And she suspected Brick’s eyes were always open. He expected nothing more than a hot lay, or did he? Had he changed? Did she mean more than that to him?

Putting her hands behind her back, she unhooked her bra with a deft flick of her wrist and let it gently fall to the floor. Brick made an animal sound deep in his throat, something between a groan, moan, and growl, and sexy as hell.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

“Goddess,” she corrected as she sashayed toward him. With one gentle push on his chest, he sat down hard on the edge of the bed. He reached for her, but she sidestepped him.

“You’re my goddess.”

“I bet you say that to all your women.”

He rubbed his chin and pondered that for a moment. “Don’t recall, but right now the only woman I’m saying it to is y—” The words died to a strangled croak as she unzipped her tight jeans and shimmied out of them. She stood up straight, wearing nothing but a smile and her panties.

“Fuck.”

“We’ll get to that,” she quipped.

“Sooner rather than later.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“I’ve been waiting since the day I met you.”

Amelia gaped at him, but recovered quickly. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. I haven’t had sex since I met you.”

“Not even on road trips?” She couldn’t imagine he could be celibate for this long.

“Not even on road trips. Have mercy on me, sweetheart.”

Amelia was blown away. One hundred percent blown away.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the bed, straddling her in a sly move only a guy with a goalie’s reflexes and flexibility could accomplish. Imprisoning her wrists in one of his hands, he held her arms over her head.

“I have you right where I want you.”

“But you’re still wearing your jeans.”

He frowned, as if he’d forgotten that one little detail. “Damn.” He rolled off her and shucked his jeans and underwear. He leaped off the bed, opened a window wide, and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a discarded T-shirt. Whipping open the nightstand drawer, he rolled on a condom in record time and crawled on all fours across the mattress.

“Now I’m ready.”

“Yes. You. Are.” Her eyes bugged at the size of him. Her ex had been big, but Brick, well, brick was bigger. He was going to feel freaking good inside her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can last through foreplay. I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need. I’m ready.”

He slid his hands between her spread legs and dipped a finger between her wet folds. His finger slid easily inside. “You are ready. You’re really wet for me.”

“I’m always wet for you,” she admitted, and immediately regretted it.

A slow, wicked smile slid across his face. “Are you now? If only I’d known this a few weeks ago.”

He lowered his head and sucked her nipple. She whimpered and pressed against him. Brick pushed inside her, going slow, even though it took a superhuman effort not to thrust all the way in one stroke. Her body accepted him, adjusting to his girth and reveling in how full he made her feel.

He slid in, retreated, slid again, retreated, deeper each time, deeper into her body and deeper into her heart, but she was powerless to stop what was happening.

She didn’t care what damage might be done. She only cared about him, how he felt inside her, above her, surrounding her. His chest hairs rubbed against her nipples. His mouth sought hers. His tongue danced with hers, explored, conquered, and enslaved.

He was deep now. Embedded and cradled within her. She angled her hips, and he touched spots no man had ever touched. And she loved it. Loved the feel of him. Loved how he’d shown her his vulnerable side earlier.

Amelia matched him thrust for thrust, intensity for intensity, and need for need. She gripped his ass, burying her fingernails in the taut muscles. He pumped harder, faster, stronger, and she went with him, not just along for the ride, but as the ride. Participating fully and loving every moment. He was about to come, and he wasn’t coming without her.

As if reading her mind, he reached between them and found her clit, pressing it as he drove home one final time. His body shuddered his release as stars exploded in her head, and her body ignited and launched itself beyond earth’s gravity.

They held each other, sweat-soaked skin sliding across skin. His breathing was as harsh as hers. His heart pounded the same erratic beat. He held himself above her with the sheer strength of his muscular arms until he collapsed and rolled to one side, pulling her on top of him.

They lay still for a long time, listening to the combined beat of their hearts. His body was like a furnace, heating everything within feet of him, especially her.

Finally, he stood and pulled her along with him. Out onto the master bedroom deck.

“People can see us.”

“So what?”

He had a point.

So what? She didn’t care. Or did she? For Macy’s sake, she didn’t want them on the gossip blogs. She needn’t worry. The master deck was somewhat recessed and private. A person would have to try pretty hard to see them. Still, she wasn’t entirely comfortable sitting naked next to him. Pulling away from him, she stepped back into the room and grabbed the first piece of clothing she found—his T-shirt. She pulled it on over her head, breathing in Brick’s scent. It fell to her knees and covered all the important parts she’d left uncovered while he was plundering her body earlier.

Brick sank into a plush garden chair, and Amelia took the one opposite. They sat in comfortable silence, cooling down and waiting for their heart rates to return to normal. Amelia forced her gaze away from the muscular man sitting next to her and out to Lake Union. The lake was relatively quiet at this time of night. Lights from the waterfront houses and houseboats cast flickering rays of gold across the ripples on the water. She almost smiled at the thought of Brick living in one of those houseboats. She couldn’t see it at first, but now she could. Brick didn’t conform. He didn’t fit in a cookie-cutter condo no matter how elegant. He belonged in the unique and different.

“You’re hot,” he said, startling her out of her musings. She jumped slightly, and he chuckled, a deep, sexy sound, which warmed up her lady parts once again.

“We worked up quite a sweat,” she managed to croak.

“I mean the other kind of hot. You’re one beautiful woman.”

Amelia shrugged. She’d been told she was beautiful all her life. Being beautiful meant little to her. She should be grateful for the gifts she’d been graced with, but at times she’d rather be plain and average. All those child beauty pageants had turned her appearance into a commodity. If she didn’t win the Ultimate Supreme whatever-whatever, she’d failed. She had to be the prettiest girl there, the most talented, and the most charming. Now she didn’t give a shit. She’d rather fade into the woodwork. Only she wasn’t a woodwork type of person any more than Brick was.

He must have read the expression her face. “That’s a compliment.”

“I know,” she said wearily. “I get tired of it.”

“Tired of guys telling you that you’re beautiful?” He sounded astonished.

“Yeah. They never look beyond my face.”

“And your body.” He winked at her.

“You’re such a dick.”

“I’m a brick, not a dick.” He grinned broadly, and she had to laugh.

“By the way, what is it with you and heat anyway?”

He stared out at the lake, sobering quickly. “When my mom and dad divorced and he remarried, Mom had custody of my sister, and Dad had me. I wanted to go with Dad because we were buddies. At least, we had been. My stepmother’s son had been my best friend, but all that went to shit. She pitted us against each other constantly, and he always came out on top. He could do no wrong, and I could do no right. We played on the same hockey team. Dad helped coach, and he’d been my biggest supporter. But then he wasn’t. All his attention was focused on his stepson. My stepmother kept the house really warm, oppressively so. I hated going home to that place and her constant nagging. I grew to hate the heat. After a year, I got the hell out of there and moved in with my mom and sister in a cabin in the woods. The place was drafty and cold, but I preferred it over that smothering heat.”

“I see. So you correlate heat with everything unpleasant in your life?”

“Pretty much.” He raised his head; his dark eyes searched her face. “I’m sorry I backed out on you and Macy.”

“Tell Macy that.”

“I will.” He turned to face Amelia. Despite the shadows, she saw something reflected in his gaze. “She can skate, can’t she? Got that from her daddy.”

Amelia cocked a brow. This was the first time Brick had referred to himself as her daddy. “Her mother was a figure skater.”

“Yeah, but that kid’s aggressive, like a hockey player, not a figure skater. Did you see her go after the puck against boys twice her size?”

“Yes, I did.” Her heart warmed at the pride in his voice. She had a hard time staying mad at this man, as she had with Darrell. She’d forgiven him just about anything, except having another wife and children. That she couldn’t forgive. Amelia blinked back tears at what she’d lost, including the child she’d never have. Her one chance. Gone.

“She’s a chip off the old brick.”

Amelia snorted. “You’re goofy.”

“And proud of it.”

“I’m glad to see you warming up to the idea of being a father.”

His smile turned to stone, as if she’d doused his good mood with cold water. “I still think she deserves better.”

“We could work on that.”

He smirked at her. “We? You wanna play house with me, baby?”

She opened her mouth to argue with him and snapped it shut. She did want to play house with him, ridiculous as the notion might be.

He watched her carefully, assessing her expression. She looked away from him and stood abruptly, walking to the railing. She leaned against the stout wood and stared into the night. She heard the scrape of his chair and footsteps. A second later, his hulking body stood next to hers, thigh to thigh.

“I want to try.” His voice cracked.

“Try? Try what?” What the hell was he talking about? Her mind raced through the possibilities, each one scarier than the one before it.

“To be a father.”

“Are you serious?” She gazed up at him. His dark eyes didn’t have the usual mischievous twinkle. He looked dead serious.

He looked away, a muscle ticked in his jaw, and he swallowed. “Ellie died bringing Macy to me. I missed the first five years of her life. Her first step. Her first word. Her first smile. It’s the least I can do.”

Amelia nodded, unable to speak.

“Will you help me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” He took her chin in his hand and lifted it carefully. His lips touched hers in a kiss full of gentle promise. “I like you.” His voice was a gravelly whisper.

“I like you, too, against my better judgment.”

He grinned shamelessly. “Good to see I haven’t lost my touch with the ladies.”

“You haven’t.”

“What about my touch with you?” He rubbed the points of her shoulders.

“What do you think?”

“I think I’m getting there, but you’re not cooperating fully.”

“And I won’t.”

He frowned; confusion flashed in his eyes before his usual cocky facade rushed back full force. “I’ll just have to change your mind. After all, we do live together.”

“We don’t— I mean— We aren’t—” But they were living together and sleeping together, and she didn’t know want to say next.

“We aren’t what?”

“A couple,” she blurted out.

“Is that what you want? To be a couple? Not into casual sex, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Okay, I’m good with that.”

“With what?” Shocked sliced through her.

“Us being a couple. Especially if I get more of what I got tonight.” His wicked grin summed up his feelings.

“But you like variety, something different.”

“This is different for me. I’ll give it a shot.” He said it casually, as if he were debating whether to try sushi for the first time.

“Brick, are you sure?”

“What choice do I have?” He held out his hands palms-up as if he were surrendering to fate. A second later a crooked grin slid across his face. “Besides, I still have road trips.”

“So we’re a couple when you’re here and not when you’re on road trips?”

“I didn’t say that. Exactly.”

“What did you say?” She pressed onward, still processing in her own mind if she really wanted this to go any further.

“I can still party, just not sample the dessert.”

She rolled her eyes. “Women are dessert to you? That’s all?”

“Whoa. That’s not what I said.” He held up his hands in preparation for mental blows to his psyche.

She arched a brow. He was being a drama queen.

“Well, not what I meant.” He corrected his statement with an endearing, self-deprecating smile.

“Brick, what makes you so sure I want any kind of relationship with you?”

“Because you’re not a casual relationship kind of girl.” He furrowed his brow as if she were the most confusing woman ever

“But you’re not an any-kind-of-relationship guy.”

He shrugged. “Things change. Macy needs stability.”

“And when we go our separate ways?”

“If we go our separate ways, I’ll be equipped to handle this, and she’ll trust me more.”

“You have it all figured out.”

“Not really, but I’m good in the moment. Give me a chance, Ammie.” He moved in closer, pinning her against the railing, his erection hard against her midsection. He cupped her hands in his face, his expression earnest. “I can do this. I know I can. At least, I want to try.”

Amelia closed her eyes to the pull of his brown eyes. She had no idea what this was that he could do. What was he proposing other than exclusivity in bed and a teacher out of bed? She considered pinning him down to specifics but couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was playing, and she wasn’t sure she’d be any good at this particular game.

“Okay, sure, we can be a couple and take it one day at a time.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “You won’t regret this.”

Oh, yes, she would, but she was doing it anyway.