“I think so,” he said. “Gimme a second. I’ll get this place heated in two.” He wiggled his brows. “This thing gets wicked hot.”
Brax crossed the room to the Bucks, knelt down and I followed. I stood there, noticing how sexy the Stetson looked on him, with his dark curls hanging out the back. At how his jacket pulled taut across his broad shoulders; how his jeans pulled snug across his thighs, and how fast his hands, fingers worked the fat lighter, the matches. He fascinated me, in every possible way. It wasn’t long before he had logs burning, and he kept the trap door open to the stove and stood. When he saw me, saw how close I’d come to stand behind him, his eyes smoldered, fixed on mine, and he reached for me. “You are wearing way too much, Sunshine.” His fingers grasped the zipper to my down jacket and pulled. As it opened, he slid his hands inside and swept his mouth over mine, and I did the same to him. Inside his leather coat, his body warmed my icy fingers.
“God, woman, you’re freezing,” he whispered. “Come here.” Taking me by the hand, he led me to his bed where he yanked all the bedcovers off at once. He piled two pillows in my arms and we dragged everything over to the stove and threw it down on the floor in front of it. He smiled at me. “Sit.”
I did, and he followed and threw himself down beside me. We faced the stove, only a few feet away, and I held my hands out to reach the warmth. He did it, too. I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, and, well, everything. My insides were writhing with need, and the sensation excited and confused me at once. Brax must have sensed my frustration because he looked at me, and the fiery gleam in his eyes made me pause.
Then I reached up and yanked his hat off. Tossed it on the floor.
A slow smile grew on Brax’s beautifully scarred face from the corners out, and he flipped my hat off, too, and in one smooth motion peeled my arms out of my jacket, followed by his, and laid me back against the comforter. Bracing his weight on his elbows, he hovered over me. His gaze dragged over my features, one at a time, and my heart slammed against my ribs at the seductiveness of it. With nimble fingers he unsnapped the buttons on my shirt and opened it, revealing my thermal, and he placed his palm over the left side of my chest. Over my heart.
“You can trust me with this, Gracie,” he said quietly. He said nothing more, just stared at me with those eerie eyes filled with desire. And something else.
“I know,” I answered, and I brushed my fingertips over the dark scruff on his jaw. “I think I always knew.”
Brax stared at me for a long time, then slowly lowered his mouth to mine. When our lips met, the turmoil inside me quickened, and my hands found their way around his neck and I pulled him closer. He kissed me so thoroughly, tasting the corners of my mouth, my top lip, the bottom one, his tongue grazing mine and me savoring it. My lips were numb, my heart beat fast, my nerve endings on fire from his touch. Brax’s hands moved over my clothed body, and it wasn’t nearly close enough. He wasn’t close enough, and I desperately tugged at his shirt, the buttons of his jeans, and pushed at his boots with mine. My body writhed beneath his, and he took the cue. Our movements weren’t slick, smooth, or movie-worthy. We jerked and yanked each others clothes off, awkward and fast, and it wasn’t until we had every stitch off that we were satisfied. Brax lay over me, one heavy thigh trapping both of mine, and his hand moved in the gentlest caress from my face, to my collar bone, to my breast. As he touched, he kissed; when I exhaled, he inhaled, swallowing my breath, and he traced strong fingertips over my stomach, my navel, my hips. His touch set my nerves on edge; I felt hot, and the desire inside of me grew to a pitch that had me frenzied. He unraveled my braid, his hand burying in my hair. My fingers dug into the muscles of his broad back, his biceps, and we moved in sync, fever pitch for fever pitch.
At once he was between my thighs, and Brax grabbed his discarded jeans. He lifted a small wrapper to his mouth, tore it with his teeth, and stretched a condom over his hardened length. “Don’t close your eyes, Gracie,” he said, then leaned over, dragged his mouth over mine. “Watch what you do to me.”
When I drew my next breath Brax pushed into me, and I gasped but kept my eyes on his. He filled me, exquisitely, and I lifted my h*ps a bit to take him in just a little more. Not close enough. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he let out a groan that sounded almost painful.
“Jesus, Gracie,” he said hoarsely, and started to move against me. His mouth descended on mine, and his kiss matched his thrusts, and I saw the desire in his eyes because I didn’t close mine. I watched. He watched. And we moved together, faster, and a slow, tumultuous storm grew in strength between us until the waves crashed over us both, simultaneously, one after another until I bucked and became breathless.
“Brax,” I whispered. My hands gripped him as he sagged against me, and I tasted the salty sweat of his skin as I kissed his shoulder.
He raised his head and looked down at me, pressed his lips to first my forehead, then my mouth. He kissed me long. Thorough. Sweet.
“God, Gracie,” he whispered, then completely enveloped my body with his arms, rolled off to the side and pulled me tightly against him.
We laid together, my head against his chest; his rapid heart beating against my ear. I knew I loved him. I felt he loved me.
Neither of us said it, though.
I wondered about that.
But as contentment washed over me, so complete and absolute, I decided not to ponder it too much. It—Brax—felt too right to worry. I closed my eyes and drifted fast asleep, wrapped in Brax’s arms.
29. Forever
“Your folks are coming, right?”
I smiled and kissed Brax on the nose. “Yes. They’re coming. They’re probably already in the stands.”
He grinned, wagged his brows, and cockily pulled the bill of his Silverbacks hat low. “They’ll see how wicked bitchy I pitch.”
I shook my head. “Your ego, Southie. It’s a biggun.”
“You like it.”
“I do.”
Brax pulled me into a tight embrace, lowered his mouth to mine.
And devoured it.
I kissed him back, no hesitation, no shyness. He made me that comfortable.
Our kissing turned smoldering, and we fell against Brax’s front door. His hand moved to my hip, around my buttock. “How am I supposed to concentrate on the mound, Gracie?” he said, taking small nips of my bottom lip.
“Just think of what’ll be waiting for you after you win,” I said, breathless.
A knock on the door at my back startled us both.
“Hey! We know you’re both in there. Probably na**d and making out,” Tessa’s tinny voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Game day, guys. Come on! It’s freezing out here!”
Brax pulled back slowly, my bottom lip in his mouth, and he gave it one last taste. “Hold your ponies, Barnes,” he said, grinning. His eyes never left mine. “Be out in a sec.”
Two weeks into the new semester, and everything was absolutely perfect. Brax and I didn’t have any classes together, but we still had lunch every day. He worked at the batting cages when he wasn’t at early spring training, and I at the observatory. We studied together, spent as much time together as possible, and although I hadn’t moved into his apartment, I stayed there a lot. Henry didn’t mind. Brax hated to ever see me leave.
We were as close as a couple in love could be.
Except, we’d neither said it.
Brax had changed. I probably had, too, but his was noticeable. To me, anyway. Although he’d defend me in a sweet minute, that angry side of him had disappeared. He wasn’t quite as rough around the edges. I don’t know … it was as if he’d found peace, maybe? I’d liked to think I was that peace. He’d certainly been for me. Besides. Kelsy Evans had all but vanished. I was pretty sure he’d flunked his semester. Or his father had pulled him from Winston in order to duck trouble. Either way, I never saw him around school and that sat perfectly well with me.
“Come on!” Tessa complained from the other side of the door. “Cory, tell your pitcher to move his ass!”
“Move your ass!” Cory hollered.
Brax kissed me once more and grinned. “Let’s go before I punch him in the throat.”
We all headed out to the Winston baseball diamond in Cory’s Camaro. The middle of January was chilly and sunny and perfect. My family had driven in to watch Brax pitch and have dinner. The only thing missing was Jilly. And I knew he was there in spirit.
Brax and Cory’s cleats clicked across the parking lot as we hurried to the dugout, where Brax swept me up and kissed me once more.
“Kick ass,” I said, grinning, and kissed him back.
“You know I will,” he replied.
Tessa ran with me up the bleachers, where I found Mom and my brothers. I introduced everyone, and we waited for the game to start.
“Come here, Lil’ Bit,” Jace said, and pulled me next to him.
Kyle reached around Mom and smacked me in the back of the head. “This better be good,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
I grabbed his knee cap, and he squawked. “Just you watch.”
“All right you guys,” Mom said. She tugged my braid. “Behave.”
The game started, and Brax fired three fastballs in a row for the first strike out. I watched in fascination as he collected, stretched, and pitched. It was a thing of beauty, to me. The ball popped the catcher’s glove so loud it sounded like gunfire. He had a grimace on his face that showed every ounce of strength he used to shoot that pitch, too. I thought it was the sexiest growling face. Ever.
“Damn that boy,” Seth said low. “Jace.”
“I know,” he agreed. “Son of a—”
“Hey,” Mom said.
“Wait ’til you see him bat,” I added.
After three consecutive outs, the Silverbacks were up to bat. The first two batters hit singles, leaving Brax with runners on first and second. He found me in the stands, pointed his bat right at me.
“God he’s cocky,” Kyle said. “I like that.”
I only grinned.
“Could you be a little more sickening?” Tessa teased. “Chica, please.”
My brothers laughed.
Brax crowded the plate on the first pitch and swung. He loved to hit fast balls, and that’s exactly what had crossed the plate. His bat cracked the ball, sending it out to the left field corner. He took off in that arrogant, bow-legged swaggering run. One player scored, one was on third, and Brax made it to second by sliding. We all jumped to our feet and hollered.
“Okay, baby,” Tessa yelled as Cory strutted to the plate. “You know what to do!”
“He’s a moose!” Seth commented. “Is he even human?”
Tessa grinned. “Mostly.”
On the second pitch Cory smacked the holy hell out of the ball for a homerun, sending Brax and the other guy over home plate. Again, we all cheered.
“Okay, here comes big brother,” Tessa said.
Cole hit a single, and after four more batters, the inning ended. We were up five to zip.
By the sixth inning the score was nine to two, Silverbacks. The crowd in the stands was ecstatic, and Brax was at his best. Pride filled me, and I was glad that my family was there to witness it. The day couldn’t have gone any better.
Brax made his way to the mound, picked up the chalk bag and tossed it a few times, then threw a few pitches to the catcher. The seventh inning began, and Brax fired his first pitch. It was then a muffled drone caught my ear, coming from the visitor’s side of the stands. Ignoring it, my attention was fast on Brax, the fluid motion of his athletic body, his perfect pitching form.
“Oh, hell,” Tessa murmured beside me. “Liv?”
“What?” I responded. I didn’t look at her. My eyes were glued to Brax.
Tessa’s elbow dug into my side. “Liv!”
“Tess, I swear—” I stopped, mid-sentence, as the drone caught my attention again. It’d grown louder, more distinct, and it made me look away from Brax, to the visitor’s section. I saw him then. Kelsy Evans, his buddies. And the words rose above the cheers of the Silverbacks fans.
Gutter-fuck. Gutter-fuck.
Realization punched me in the gut, and my eyes darted back to Brax. I knew the second he heard it, too. He’d just thrown a pitch—it’d no more left his hand when his head turned to find me.
And that’s when it happened.
The ball cracked against the bat as a line drive shot out of the batters box and straight for the mound.
The ball hit Brax in the temple as he searched the crowd, and he dropped so fast to the ground he looked like a rag doll.
My breath left my lungs and I leapt to my feet. “No!” I started down the bleachers as fast as I could move. From my peripheral I noticed my brothers moving, too. To the visitor’s side. My eyes stayed forward then, on Brax’s body. Unmoving. Still as death. I slammed into the fence by the dugout. Cory was already at the mound, kneeling beside Brax. He was quickly joined by the catcher. Soon all of the starters were hovering over him, and I couldn’t see anything except his cleats. No movement. My heart nearly stopped.
I tried to open the dugout, but I couldn’t budge it. Locked. “Let me in!” I yelled.
Mom and Tessa came to stand beside me, and Mom put her hand on my shoulder. “Back up, sweetie. EMS is here. He’ll be okay. He’ll be fine.”
Mom had to pull me back; I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Brax’s cleats. It was the only part of him I could see, and I wasn’t losing sight of him. Oh, God. Oh God! “Mom,” I said, frantic. My voice quivered. “That ball … it had to be going at least ninety.”
Brax crossed the room to the Bucks, knelt down and I followed. I stood there, noticing how sexy the Stetson looked on him, with his dark curls hanging out the back. At how his jacket pulled taut across his broad shoulders; how his jeans pulled snug across his thighs, and how fast his hands, fingers worked the fat lighter, the matches. He fascinated me, in every possible way. It wasn’t long before he had logs burning, and he kept the trap door open to the stove and stood. When he saw me, saw how close I’d come to stand behind him, his eyes smoldered, fixed on mine, and he reached for me. “You are wearing way too much, Sunshine.” His fingers grasped the zipper to my down jacket and pulled. As it opened, he slid his hands inside and swept his mouth over mine, and I did the same to him. Inside his leather coat, his body warmed my icy fingers.
“God, woman, you’re freezing,” he whispered. “Come here.” Taking me by the hand, he led me to his bed where he yanked all the bedcovers off at once. He piled two pillows in my arms and we dragged everything over to the stove and threw it down on the floor in front of it. He smiled at me. “Sit.”
I did, and he followed and threw himself down beside me. We faced the stove, only a few feet away, and I held my hands out to reach the warmth. He did it, too. I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, and, well, everything. My insides were writhing with need, and the sensation excited and confused me at once. Brax must have sensed my frustration because he looked at me, and the fiery gleam in his eyes made me pause.
Then I reached up and yanked his hat off. Tossed it on the floor.
A slow smile grew on Brax’s beautifully scarred face from the corners out, and he flipped my hat off, too, and in one smooth motion peeled my arms out of my jacket, followed by his, and laid me back against the comforter. Bracing his weight on his elbows, he hovered over me. His gaze dragged over my features, one at a time, and my heart slammed against my ribs at the seductiveness of it. With nimble fingers he unsnapped the buttons on my shirt and opened it, revealing my thermal, and he placed his palm over the left side of my chest. Over my heart.
“You can trust me with this, Gracie,” he said quietly. He said nothing more, just stared at me with those eerie eyes filled with desire. And something else.
“I know,” I answered, and I brushed my fingertips over the dark scruff on his jaw. “I think I always knew.”
Brax stared at me for a long time, then slowly lowered his mouth to mine. When our lips met, the turmoil inside me quickened, and my hands found their way around his neck and I pulled him closer. He kissed me so thoroughly, tasting the corners of my mouth, my top lip, the bottom one, his tongue grazing mine and me savoring it. My lips were numb, my heart beat fast, my nerve endings on fire from his touch. Brax’s hands moved over my clothed body, and it wasn’t nearly close enough. He wasn’t close enough, and I desperately tugged at his shirt, the buttons of his jeans, and pushed at his boots with mine. My body writhed beneath his, and he took the cue. Our movements weren’t slick, smooth, or movie-worthy. We jerked and yanked each others clothes off, awkward and fast, and it wasn’t until we had every stitch off that we were satisfied. Brax lay over me, one heavy thigh trapping both of mine, and his hand moved in the gentlest caress from my face, to my collar bone, to my breast. As he touched, he kissed; when I exhaled, he inhaled, swallowing my breath, and he traced strong fingertips over my stomach, my navel, my hips. His touch set my nerves on edge; I felt hot, and the desire inside of me grew to a pitch that had me frenzied. He unraveled my braid, his hand burying in my hair. My fingers dug into the muscles of his broad back, his biceps, and we moved in sync, fever pitch for fever pitch.
At once he was between my thighs, and Brax grabbed his discarded jeans. He lifted a small wrapper to his mouth, tore it with his teeth, and stretched a condom over his hardened length. “Don’t close your eyes, Gracie,” he said, then leaned over, dragged his mouth over mine. “Watch what you do to me.”
When I drew my next breath Brax pushed into me, and I gasped but kept my eyes on his. He filled me, exquisitely, and I lifted my h*ps a bit to take him in just a little more. Not close enough. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he let out a groan that sounded almost painful.
“Jesus, Gracie,” he said hoarsely, and started to move against me. His mouth descended on mine, and his kiss matched his thrusts, and I saw the desire in his eyes because I didn’t close mine. I watched. He watched. And we moved together, faster, and a slow, tumultuous storm grew in strength between us until the waves crashed over us both, simultaneously, one after another until I bucked and became breathless.
“Brax,” I whispered. My hands gripped him as he sagged against me, and I tasted the salty sweat of his skin as I kissed his shoulder.
He raised his head and looked down at me, pressed his lips to first my forehead, then my mouth. He kissed me long. Thorough. Sweet.
“God, Gracie,” he whispered, then completely enveloped my body with his arms, rolled off to the side and pulled me tightly against him.
We laid together, my head against his chest; his rapid heart beating against my ear. I knew I loved him. I felt he loved me.
Neither of us said it, though.
I wondered about that.
But as contentment washed over me, so complete and absolute, I decided not to ponder it too much. It—Brax—felt too right to worry. I closed my eyes and drifted fast asleep, wrapped in Brax’s arms.
29. Forever
“Your folks are coming, right?”
I smiled and kissed Brax on the nose. “Yes. They’re coming. They’re probably already in the stands.”
He grinned, wagged his brows, and cockily pulled the bill of his Silverbacks hat low. “They’ll see how wicked bitchy I pitch.”
I shook my head. “Your ego, Southie. It’s a biggun.”
“You like it.”
“I do.”
Brax pulled me into a tight embrace, lowered his mouth to mine.
And devoured it.
I kissed him back, no hesitation, no shyness. He made me that comfortable.
Our kissing turned smoldering, and we fell against Brax’s front door. His hand moved to my hip, around my buttock. “How am I supposed to concentrate on the mound, Gracie?” he said, taking small nips of my bottom lip.
“Just think of what’ll be waiting for you after you win,” I said, breathless.
A knock on the door at my back startled us both.
“Hey! We know you’re both in there. Probably na**d and making out,” Tessa’s tinny voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Game day, guys. Come on! It’s freezing out here!”
Brax pulled back slowly, my bottom lip in his mouth, and he gave it one last taste. “Hold your ponies, Barnes,” he said, grinning. His eyes never left mine. “Be out in a sec.”
Two weeks into the new semester, and everything was absolutely perfect. Brax and I didn’t have any classes together, but we still had lunch every day. He worked at the batting cages when he wasn’t at early spring training, and I at the observatory. We studied together, spent as much time together as possible, and although I hadn’t moved into his apartment, I stayed there a lot. Henry didn’t mind. Brax hated to ever see me leave.
We were as close as a couple in love could be.
Except, we’d neither said it.
Brax had changed. I probably had, too, but his was noticeable. To me, anyway. Although he’d defend me in a sweet minute, that angry side of him had disappeared. He wasn’t quite as rough around the edges. I don’t know … it was as if he’d found peace, maybe? I’d liked to think I was that peace. He’d certainly been for me. Besides. Kelsy Evans had all but vanished. I was pretty sure he’d flunked his semester. Or his father had pulled him from Winston in order to duck trouble. Either way, I never saw him around school and that sat perfectly well with me.
“Come on!” Tessa complained from the other side of the door. “Cory, tell your pitcher to move his ass!”
“Move your ass!” Cory hollered.
Brax kissed me once more and grinned. “Let’s go before I punch him in the throat.”
We all headed out to the Winston baseball diamond in Cory’s Camaro. The middle of January was chilly and sunny and perfect. My family had driven in to watch Brax pitch and have dinner. The only thing missing was Jilly. And I knew he was there in spirit.
Brax and Cory’s cleats clicked across the parking lot as we hurried to the dugout, where Brax swept me up and kissed me once more.
“Kick ass,” I said, grinning, and kissed him back.
“You know I will,” he replied.
Tessa ran with me up the bleachers, where I found Mom and my brothers. I introduced everyone, and we waited for the game to start.
“Come here, Lil’ Bit,” Jace said, and pulled me next to him.
Kyle reached around Mom and smacked me in the back of the head. “This better be good,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
I grabbed his knee cap, and he squawked. “Just you watch.”
“All right you guys,” Mom said. She tugged my braid. “Behave.”
The game started, and Brax fired three fastballs in a row for the first strike out. I watched in fascination as he collected, stretched, and pitched. It was a thing of beauty, to me. The ball popped the catcher’s glove so loud it sounded like gunfire. He had a grimace on his face that showed every ounce of strength he used to shoot that pitch, too. I thought it was the sexiest growling face. Ever.
“Damn that boy,” Seth said low. “Jace.”
“I know,” he agreed. “Son of a—”
“Hey,” Mom said.
“Wait ’til you see him bat,” I added.
After three consecutive outs, the Silverbacks were up to bat. The first two batters hit singles, leaving Brax with runners on first and second. He found me in the stands, pointed his bat right at me.
“God he’s cocky,” Kyle said. “I like that.”
I only grinned.
“Could you be a little more sickening?” Tessa teased. “Chica, please.”
My brothers laughed.
Brax crowded the plate on the first pitch and swung. He loved to hit fast balls, and that’s exactly what had crossed the plate. His bat cracked the ball, sending it out to the left field corner. He took off in that arrogant, bow-legged swaggering run. One player scored, one was on third, and Brax made it to second by sliding. We all jumped to our feet and hollered.
“Okay, baby,” Tessa yelled as Cory strutted to the plate. “You know what to do!”
“He’s a moose!” Seth commented. “Is he even human?”
Tessa grinned. “Mostly.”
On the second pitch Cory smacked the holy hell out of the ball for a homerun, sending Brax and the other guy over home plate. Again, we all cheered.
“Okay, here comes big brother,” Tessa said.
Cole hit a single, and after four more batters, the inning ended. We were up five to zip.
By the sixth inning the score was nine to two, Silverbacks. The crowd in the stands was ecstatic, and Brax was at his best. Pride filled me, and I was glad that my family was there to witness it. The day couldn’t have gone any better.
Brax made his way to the mound, picked up the chalk bag and tossed it a few times, then threw a few pitches to the catcher. The seventh inning began, and Brax fired his first pitch. It was then a muffled drone caught my ear, coming from the visitor’s side of the stands. Ignoring it, my attention was fast on Brax, the fluid motion of his athletic body, his perfect pitching form.
“Oh, hell,” Tessa murmured beside me. “Liv?”
“What?” I responded. I didn’t look at her. My eyes were glued to Brax.
Tessa’s elbow dug into my side. “Liv!”
“Tess, I swear—” I stopped, mid-sentence, as the drone caught my attention again. It’d grown louder, more distinct, and it made me look away from Brax, to the visitor’s section. I saw him then. Kelsy Evans, his buddies. And the words rose above the cheers of the Silverbacks fans.
Gutter-fuck. Gutter-fuck.
Realization punched me in the gut, and my eyes darted back to Brax. I knew the second he heard it, too. He’d just thrown a pitch—it’d no more left his hand when his head turned to find me.
And that’s when it happened.
The ball cracked against the bat as a line drive shot out of the batters box and straight for the mound.
The ball hit Brax in the temple as he searched the crowd, and he dropped so fast to the ground he looked like a rag doll.
My breath left my lungs and I leapt to my feet. “No!” I started down the bleachers as fast as I could move. From my peripheral I noticed my brothers moving, too. To the visitor’s side. My eyes stayed forward then, on Brax’s body. Unmoving. Still as death. I slammed into the fence by the dugout. Cory was already at the mound, kneeling beside Brax. He was quickly joined by the catcher. Soon all of the starters were hovering over him, and I couldn’t see anything except his cleats. No movement. My heart nearly stopped.
I tried to open the dugout, but I couldn’t budge it. Locked. “Let me in!” I yelled.
Mom and Tessa came to stand beside me, and Mom put her hand on my shoulder. “Back up, sweetie. EMS is here. He’ll be okay. He’ll be fine.”
Mom had to pull me back; I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Brax’s cleats. It was the only part of him I could see, and I wasn’t losing sight of him. Oh, God. Oh God! “Mom,” I said, frantic. My voice quivered. “That ball … it had to be going at least ninety.”
