Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (52 page)

BOOK: Power Play (Play Makers Book 4)
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“You speak from experience?” She rustled his
hair with her fingertips. “Poor clueless Uncle Wyatt. Give me a
kiss.”

Without hesitation, he lowered his mouth to
hers. Not exactly a power kiss, but something just as familiar.
Their first kiss during their first football lesson. So much
promise with a nice dose of chemistry thrown in.

“I missed this,” she told him dreamily.

His steely eyes assured her he had missed it
too.

“Uncle Wyatt!” Gail called out from the
porch.
“Bring
her!”

“Well,
that’s
a little scary,” Darcie
said with a laugh as she waved back at his niece. Then she looped
her arm through his, enjoying the nearness as he escorted her to
his family home, where both Gail and her brother Danny embraced her
like their long-lost aunt.

“We saw the press conference,” Danny told
her. “You did good.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you really meet Aaron Spurling?”

“In the flesh,” she confirmed. “We’ll make
sure
you
meet him too. And soon.”

She thought she was ready for the rest—after
all, Tony wasn’t
her
uncle—but the sight of his chair in
front of the fireplace choked her up. Not that the chair was empty.
Not even close. Wyatt’s cousin Chrissy was in it, rocking her
little Nathan, while the little girl who had sat with Tony last
time hovered nearby.

Still on duty.

“Hey, Chrissy,” she called out weakly.

The lovely young woman waved back.

“She left that jerk of a husband again.
Hopefully for good this time,” Wyatt told her under his breath.
“Turns out she wasn’t pregnant after all.”

“Thank God she has Nathan,” Darcie said with
a sigh, imagining Chrissy’s thought process, which probably
consisted of a simple:
life’s too short to spend with a crap
husband
.

In the kitchen, Bea and her three daughters
sat at the table, while the little boys with the action figures
dominated a large marble island. As Darcie passed by, she noticed
they were polishing silver serving spoons, so she stopped to admire
their work. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“It’s a secret,” the oldest said solemnly.
“So we don’t know.”

“Well, let me know if you need some help.”
She moved over to the table and embraced Bea, then Jenny and her
sisters, and then sat in a chair while Wyatt stood behind her. The
women all talked at once, mostly about Wyatt. What a blessing he
was.

What a rock.

Bea summed it up when she said, “You should
have seen my husband’s face when Wyatt walked into that hospital
room. Like he could die in peace, knowing Matt’s son was there to
take over.”

“But when Wyatt told Dad he was an LA
Rustler,” Jenny interrupted, “you could see he wanted to stay a
while longer. See him in action.”

Touched, Darcie glanced back at Wyatt, half
expecting him to look suffocated. Ready to bolt. But something had
changed. Or maybe he was just better at faking it.

Bea must have been thinking the same thing
because she said wearily, “I should rest my eyes. And Wyatt needs
time alone with Darcie.”

“I’ll help you, Mom,” Mary told her, adding
to Darcie, “Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t.”

After embracing Bea, Darcie and Wyatt stayed
behind with the other two aunts.

Jenny sighed. “Can you believe the funeral
is tomorrow? You know why Mom picked it, don’t you?”

“So the children wouldn’t miss school?”

Jenny’s eyes misted. “She’s afraid Wyatt is
missing all the excitement over his new job. Because he’s stuck
here with us.”

“Oh, my God, that’s so not true,” Darcie
protested. “He’s right where he wants to be.”

“That’s true, Aunt Jenn,” Wyatt assured her.
“And if that’s the only reason—”

“It’s what Dad would have wanted,” Jenny
insisted tearfully. “A Bourne playing for the Rustlers? What could
be better?” Before anyone could respond, she added in her bossiest
tone, “Mom’s right. You two should spend some time alone. Starting
now.”

“Fine by me,” Wyatt said in a husky voice.
“Darce?”

She nodded, feeling shy but excited as she
told her aunts, “If you need us, we’ll be in the stable.”

 

• • •

 

“Nice call,” Wyatt told her as they walked
hand-in-hand toward the abandoned building where Tony and Bea had
had their trysts so long ago.

She swayed closer to him. “It comes highly
recommended, right?”

“Yeah.” Stopping short, he pulled her into a
hot embrace. “Let’s give them a thrill, shall we?”

“Yum.” Her arms curled around his neck as he
kissed her, his tongue sparring playfully with hers.

“Let’s go inside,” he urged. Darcie’s
love-starved body didn’t feel like talking. She wanted him to bar
the stable door then have his way with her. It felt as though it
had been forever. But she couldn’t imagine what
he
was
feeling, so she followed him in wary silence until they were alone
in the simple wooden building.

“Ask me anything,” he suggested, nuzzling
her neck.

“Why are the little boys polishing
spoons?”

“Huh?” He pretended to glare.
“That’s
what’s on your mind?”

She laughed happily.
“You’re
the one
who wants to talk. I’m hot for the kissing. We have lots of time to
figure out the rest, right? Now that the deal’s done, the romance
can finally have normal pace.”

“You talk like they’re two separate things,”
he complained. “But
you’re
part of the Rustlers deal. You
made it happen. I don’t mean because you introduced me to Murf, but
because—”

He exhaled sharply, as though gathering his
thoughts. Then he explained, “When I met you, a new world opened
up. Falling in love. Waking up next to you for the rest of my life.
Raising our children together. These were things I never thought
I’d have. And once I opened my mind to them, the rest just fell
into place. Suddenly my career wasn’t torture anymore. The Super
Bowl loss didn’t matter.” He grabbed up her hands. “Before you? I
could have run into Aaron Spurling in the park, exchanged
pleasantries, then moved on. Instead, I could see more.
Want
more. Because of you.”

“Is that what you meant? When you kept
saying it was all me?” She kissed his hands gratefully. “Thank you,
Wyatt. That means so much.”

“You gave me everything. Now I want to do
that for you.”

“Oh, Wyatt . . .”

He was pulling her into the fantasy again,
and she wanted to give in. To lose herself in it. Take the
risk.

But not for an innocent child.

She knew she should forget about Matt
Bourne, but that image of him, looking at his son—the child he had
raised from infancy—and seeing only Denny St. Claire? She could
never,
ever
shake that.

As though reading her mind, Wyatt told her,
“I can’t stop thinking about you. And there’s another female who’s
been on my mind, too.”

“Your mom? That’s understandable.”

“Not my mother. This is someone else. A baby
girl with golden brown curls and honey-colored eyes.” His voice
caught in his throat. “I love her already, Darce.”

“What?” she asked weakly.

“I’m standing in the doorway. Watching you
nurse her. And I can’t believe how lucky I am. How beautiful she
is. How beautiful
you
are.”

“Oh, God . . .” She burst
into tears against his chest.

“Hey.” He forced her chin up and stared into
her eyes. “She might not look anything like me.
Or
you. But
she’s ours. And I love her.”

“Wyatt . . .” She wasn’t
ready for this. Not now. Not when she had her little speech
prepared about slowing things down. Managing expectations.

Instead he was talking about limitless
possibilities.

“Uncle Wyatt!” Danny’s voice shouted from
outside the building. Then he pounded on the door for emphasis.
“Hey, Uncle Wyatt.”

“I’m gonna kick his ass,” Wyatt growled.

“Be good,” she warned through her tears as
he walked over to admit his nephew.

Danny gave Darcie a sheepish look. “Sorry to
interrupt. Grandma made me do it.”

“It’s fine.”

“Were you guys fighting again? We thought
you were just kissing.”

“What’s the emergency?” Wyatt demanded.

“There’s a coach here. The guy you played
for in high school. I guess he heard about Grandpa Tony so he
wanted to pay his respects.”

Wyatt turned to Darcie. “I didn’t know he
was coming, but this is great. Bad timing but great. I’ve wanted
you to meet him.”

“Me too.”

Danny stepped closer. “He said you told him
about me, Uncle Wyatt. That I was born with Stickum on my hands.
That’s a compliment, right?” the boy added teasingly.

Wyatt grinned. “Yeah, it’s a compliment.
Tell him we’re on our way, will you?”

“Sure thing.” The boy seemed ready to leave,
then he stepped over to Darcie instead. “Don’t be mad at Uncle
Wyatt. He
really
likes you.”

Darcie giggled. “I’m crying because he said
something sweet, so no worries. But thanks for telling me.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Just give Coach Emmanuel
the message, will you?”

“Sure thing, Uncle Wyatt.” He flashed a
mischievous smile and hurried back outside.

Wyatt’s smile faded. “I know we need to
talk—”

“Not today. Today is for visiting and
kissing. We’ll have plenty of time after—well, after the funeral.
Right?”

“Tomorrow night? Yeah, it’s a date.”

She moved into his arms and buried her face
against his rock-hard chest. If only she could give him his answer
now. Tell him what he wanted to hear. He had done everything he
could. Placed his entire future—his best shot at happiness—in her
rookie hands. Trusted her in a way she hadn’t earned yet had
somehow needed. He had even fallen in love with an innocent little
girl who looked nothing like him but who gazed up at him with
innocent, honey-colored eyes and knew beyond a doubt he was her
daddy.

The ultimate leap of faith for a guy like
him.

If Wyatt could do that—make
that
leap—Darcie would never doubt him again. But the scars ran deep
with this guy . . . “We shouldn’t keep your coach waiting,” she
told him, wiping her eyes then taking his hand in her own. “And
then tomorrow night? I agree, we’ll figure this out once and for
all.”

 

• • •

 

A private gathering of the Bourne family was
scheduled for two thirty on Sunday afternoon with the funeral open
to all well-wishers at five. Given the remote location of the
ranch, they didn’t expect much of a crowd, but when it came to
food, Aunt Jenny believed in hoping for the best but planning for
the worst.

Or at least that was the rumor, since Wyatt
had warned Darcie and Murf to bring their appetites.

She had decided on four o’clock as the
perfect time to arrive, and since her boss was acting as her
escort, she spent the ninety-minute drive briefing him on the
various family members. True to form, he was already threatening to
sign Danny and Joe someday. Maybe even Annie if the rumors about
her excellent aim proved true.

“It’s gotta be rough for Wyatt,” he murmured
as he helped her out of his rented Lexus in the crowded driveway.
“Career upheaval, family tragedy, dating a firecracker. It’s a
miracle he’s still standing.”

“You’re a riot,” she said, straightening the
jacket of her black linen suit. Then she patted his cheek. “Thanks
for bringing me.”

“My pleasure.”

On their way to the porch steps, they
spotted one of the little boys who had played at Tony’s feet with
his action figures, so they detoured to where he knelt near a
rosebush.

“Hey, honey, whatcha doing?” she asked.

He held up a small plastic sandwich bag and
one of the polished spoons. “Burying my uncle,” he said mournfully.
“He likes Thor best so he’s gonna keep him company.”

As they watched, the child dug out a few
lumps of dirt with the spoon, poured the small amount of ashes—his
allotment, apparently—into the hole, then crammed a colorful
plastic Thor in after him.

“It’s not deep enough,” he said, his lip
quivering.

“Here, partner. Let me help.” Murf knelt
down and helped the child scoop two more spoonsful of dirt from
alongside the existing hole, broadening it to accommodate Thor’s
hammer.

“Thanks.” The child brushed a tear from his
eyes then finished smoothing the dirt. “Bye, Uncle Tony.”

“This kid’s killing me,” Murf whispered to
Darcie. “Are they all this way?”

“Like I said,” she murmured through her
tears, “they have some amazing traditions.”

They worked their way through the family
members, stopping for introductions and chats, until they found
Wyatt with Bea on the back porch. He was dressed in black slacks
and a dark gray dress shirt, and as always, was the tallest Bourne
in the place.

And now she knew why: Denny.

On the other hand, he was taking good care
of his aunts, and that was Matt Bourne all the way.

He strode over to greet them, shaking Murf’s
hand then pulling Darcie into a quick, sexy kiss.

“Hey, Uncle Wyatt. This is a
funeral,”
Annie warned him. “Keep it clean.”

“Such a mouth,” Wyatt said with a laugh.

“Yeah, who does she remind me of?” Murf
joked.

“Hush, you two.” Darcie gave Wyatt a wary
smile. “How are you doing?”

He stepped closer then admitted under his
breath, “It’s been a long day. And the neighbors will show up in a
few minutes. So I’m counting on you two to take over. I’m all
out.”

“Small talk is my specialty,” Murf said with
a chuckle. “You guys sneak away to the blueberry patch. I’ve got
this.”

“He means the vegetable garden,” Darcie
explained to Wyatt. “And I should eat something first, just to be
polite. And say ‘hi’ to everyone.”

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