The Way We Touch: or Wrangling the Wide Receiver (The Bradford Boys)

Standing in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs waiting, I haven’t felt this way since I was in high school waiting on my prom date. My palms are sweaty, my collar is too tight, and I keep expecting Allie or Zane to step out with a camera.

Okay, not Zane. All of Dylan’s brothers have given me a version of the “hurt her and die” speech. I expected it from them. I did not expect it from Craig, who I think might be the most dangerous one of all.

I can actually imagine Craig sneaking up on me in a dark alley with a knife. He’d shank me and wouldn’t even look back, and old Thomas said something about bringing a shovel. I think they’re in cahoots.

“Hey, sorry I took a little longer than I expected.” Her voice is soft, and as she skips down the stairs, I have to reach out to hold the rail for support.

She’s so fucking gorgeous. Her long hair flows in smooth waves down her back and over her shoulders. Her lips are glossy pink, and her full lashes are lowered over her eyes.

She’s wearing a dress as requested, but it’s not just any dress. It’s red with a zipper that runs all the way up the front, filling my head with images of unzipping her, and she’s pulled a light denim jacket over it.

Her shapely legs end in high-heeled, strappy black sandals with laces wrapped around her ankles, and those red toenails again…

“Damn, girl. You really are dangerous.”

She stops on the bottom step, putting her face almost level with mine. Her nose wrinkles with her smile, and she shakes her head. “I’m not so dangerous.”

Her hand is on my shoulder, and I put both my hands on her waist, unsure what to make of these feelings she stirs in my chest.

“Yeah, you’re dangerous.” Leaning closer, I slide my nose along the side of her hair, speaking low in her ear. “To my mouth and my heart.”

She shivers, and a shuffle on the landing above draws our attention. “Drive safe, kids. Don’t stay out too late, and don’t get into trouble.”

We move apart, and her expression brightens at the sight of Zane leaning heavily on the railing at the top of the stairs.

Lifting her chin, she teases, “Don’t worry, Dad.”

He’s coming out a bit more, which I know is a relief to all his siblings. He was even at the restaurant last night for a little while, until more people started approaching his table wishing him well, and he said goodnight. I’ve learned he doesn’t like to be fussed over.

I don’t blame him.

“Thanks for loaning me your Jeep,” I call up to him. “Sure you don’t need it?”

“Nah, I’ve got an early day tomorrow, heading over to Miss Gina’s. I know it’s more fun to drive than Garrett’s big rig.”

“You’re going to Miss Gina’s tomorrow?” Dylan’s voice rises excitedly.

“Yeah, so don’t bring it back empty.”

“I won’t.” I give him a wave before catching his sister’s hand and leading her out the door. I’m ready to get her fed and get her alone.

Garrett recommended a restaurant on the bay south of town. The drive down the old highway takes us through the sweeping live oak trees and blooming crepe myrtles. The top is on the Jeep, but the doors aren’t. I drive slower, so the wind doesn’t beat us up too much.

“It’s so different here from Texas.”

“How so?” She glances up at me, and I hesitate a moment, watching the wind lift a curl around her cheeks.

Then I shake it away. “It’s greener, closer together.”

“Texas is pretty huge.”

It’s a nice night, not as hot as it has been, and I pull into the gravel parking lot. Hustling around, I help her out of the vehicle, holding her arm as we walk on the rocks so she doesn’t turn an ankle.

“Not the best footwear for gravel.” She clutches me, and we take it slow.

“I like those shoes. They’re nice.”

They’re practically invisible with the thin straps over her red toes, and I consider sweeping her off her feet and carrying her inside. But I don’t.

The small restaurant is in a renovated old house with a weathered wood exterior and deer antlers for door handles. Inside, the place is all exposed wood, from the floor to the walls. The wide-plank ceiling is adorned with twinkle lights wrapped around long branches of driftwood, and a brick fireplace is in the center.

It feels like an old hunting lodge, and it smells like expensive food.

We take a seat at a square table covered in a white tablecloth. The waiter takes our drink order. Dylan orders a smoked Old Fashioned, and I have a plain ole scotch.

The dining room is very small and dimly lit with jarred candles on the tables and shaded lamps mixed with the twinkle lights overhead. It’s cozy and romantic, and only a handful of other diners are present.

She leans forward, eyes sparkling in the light. “We’re not in Cooters & Shooters anymore, Toto. This is fancy!”

I exhale a laugh. “Let me order for us. Garrett gave me the inside scoop.”

“He would know.” She lets me take her menu. “He was sweet to cover for me tonight. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he likes to hang out with Craig and Thomas. They’ll turn the whole night into a party.”

“He has a tendency to do that everywhere.” I think about his dance moves on the field after we score a touchdown.

The waiter returns with our drinks, and I order marinated crab claws and halibut for her, the five-ounce filet for me, and two glasses of their best pinot noir with our entrees.

Before he goes, he takes out a small blowtorch and lights the top of Dylan’s old-fashioned. I guess that’s the “smoked” part.

Her eyebrows rise, and she cups one hand beside her mouth. “Now that’s dangerous.” She points at the flaming tumbler.

“Not as dangerous as you.”

Lifting it, she holds it out for a toast before bringing it closer and blowing on it. “How do I drink this?”

“Here.” I lift a metal lid off the table and slide it over the top of her glass until it extinguishes the flame.

“I didn’t see that.” She lifts it again and takes a sip. “Mmm… it’s warm and spicy.”

“Just like you like it.” My hand slides across the table, and this time she doesn’t hesitate.

She puts her hand in mine, and it feels so natural, so good.

“Tell me about your parents. I know your dad was a big football star, but what about your mom?”

Dylan’s head tilts to the side. “She was the head cheerleader in high school. They were the total stereotype, and when they graduated, he was prom king and she was his queen.”

“They were the same age?”

She nods. “They went to the same college. Dad played ball, and she got a business degree.”

“Smart.”

“They got married right after graduation, and he went pro while she stayed home having babies.”

“Was that okay with her?” My brow furrows.

I’ve heard too many stories about women sacrificing their careers for their husbands, and I agree it’s unfair. I wouldn’t ask Dylan to do it.

If I were asking Dylan to do anything… What the hell?

“Yeah.” She looks up at me with a smile. “Mom loved babies. She wanted a big family, and she really, really wanted a little girl. I was her last chance. If I’d been a boy… Well… She probably would’ve tried one more time.”

She starts to laugh, and I smile, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad she got you.” She blinks down, shyly, and I thread our fingers. “How did the restaurant happen?”

“Mm…” she nods, sipping her drink. “After Dad retired, he didn’t know what to do with himself. They were going to open it with some friends, but the friends fell through. Mom said they could do it themselves, so they took a leap of faith and put us all to work, Thomas too.”

“Ready-made crew?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes drift over my shoulder. “I think that place was as much for her as it was for him. Mom put her business degree to work, and it really took off—helped, of course, by Dad’s celebrity status.”

“Of course.”

The waiter returns at that moment with our entreés, which he places in front of us. Cracked pepper for Dylan, none for me. I slice a piece of perfectly cooked steak, and it melts in my mouth. Dylan picks up a crab claw in her fingers and expertly slides the meat off with her teeth.

“This is really good.” Her eyes widen, and she turns the plate. “We should have crab claws at our place. They’re not hard to make.”

“Garrett does want you to go to cooking school, after all.”

She shakes her head. “Garrett.” Then she tilts her head to the side. “What about you? What did your mom do?”

“She was a beauty queen. Miss Texas.”

“Wow.” Her eyes widen. “That’s impressive. Texas is a big state.”

“Then she went into broadcasting. She was the six o’clock news anchor. It’s how she met my dad.” Lifting my glass, I study the light red wine. “From what I’ve heard, he really loved her. Maybe that’s why he acted the way he did.”

I’m starting to feel like I could understand not getting over someone, how their loss could cast a long shadow over everything good in your life.

Only, if I still had a piece of her, a child we shared, I can’t understand not loving that piece as much as the whole.

“I think that’s what happened to our dad, too.” Her brow furrows, and she studies her wine glass as well. “He went downhill really fast after Mom died… Or maybe it was already happening, and we were too young to know? Now that I’m older and I’m at the restaurant all the time, I realize she covered for him a lot. He wasn’t there nearly as much as she was.”

Setting my glass down, I reach out and take her hand again. “I’m sorry for what happened to him. From what I’ve read and seen, your dad sounded like a great guy, and now that I know you, I’m sure your mom was amazing as well.”

“They were.” Her voice is soft as if remembering.

A moment passes, she sips her wine then presses her lips into a smile, looking up at me. “And you’re up for the MVP award this year. That’s exciting.”

“I’ve never been this close, and I owe a lot of it to your brother. If that giant weren’t on the field blocking for me, I wouldn’t be able to make half those plays.”

“I don’t know. He says you’re the fastest receiver he’s ever seen, Lightning.” She gives me a wink. “How fast are you?”

Grinning, I take another bite of steak. I’m usually pretty cocky when it comes to my career and the game and my stats, but Dylan comes from football royalty. She’s surrounded by star players—whom she doesn’t even watch play.

“I’m pretty fast for a tall guy.”

“You’re being humble.” Her eyes narrow. “I’ve never known a league player who didn’t brag about his abilities.”

“Yeah, but you’re from a family of great athletes. I know it doesn’t impress you. But if I could play golf…”

“Not that again!” She covers her face, but her eyes glow.

She’s so pretty. I think about what it would’ve been like to have her cheering for me in high school. I think about her in a cheerleader uniform, and damn, that’s a new fantasy.

Then I think about her in my box watching me play, maybe even wearing my jersey. I wonder how it would feel to look up to see her there. It’s something I’ve never had or even really thought about, but I like it.

I like it a lot.

It’s only a few miles down a narrow, two-lane road until you reach the end of land and the start of the ocean.

I pull the Jeep into a public parking lot near an abandoned beach bar one of the hurricanes ruined. It was never rebuilt, and now it stands as a monument to the past.

Taking her hand, we walk down the sand to where the water rolls gently onto the shore. It’s a constant, soothing rush, like the ticking of a clock or the swinging of a pendulum.

The wind is stronger here, right on the front lines of the Gulf, and when we reach the end of the dry sand, I drop to my knees, pulling her down to my lap. She sits in front of me, her legs wrapped over mine, bare feet in the sand. We left our shoes and her denim jacket in the Jeep, and I’m thinking about that zipper on her dress.

She’s so beautiful with the briny air turning her hair to waves. She’s so sweet and funny and unexpected and fucking sexy. I can’t deny it any more. Dylan Bradford is in my blood. She’s in my veins, and all I want to do is make her happy.

Tonight is the start of something—or I really want it to be. Yet, a growing frustration churns in my chest when I think about what she’s told me and how she feels.

My feelings for her have grown so fast and so strong, but I can’t ignore the truth. We have a problem, and no matter how I turn it over in my mind, I can’t find the solution.

We laugh and joke about it, but I see the sincerity in her eyes when she talks about her father. She doesn’t want to be with a football player, but I can’t give it up.

Not that she’s asked me to give it up. She doesn’t ask anything from me, and that almost makes it worse. I want to give her everything. I want to make her as happy as I am when I imagine us together.

At the same time, I can’t just turn off what’s driving me, my unfinished business.

Reaching up, I thread my fingers in her hair, but when our eyes meet, her brow furrows. She can see it in my gaze. I’m as turbulent inside as the waves being tossed about by the wind and gravity and the pull of the moon.

“What’s wrong?” she asks over the sound of the surf.

“I told you before I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How would you do that?”

“I’m not ready to quit, Dylan.” I cup her face in my hands. “It’s still inside me. I still want to play.”

Her lips part, but I don’t give her a chance to speak as I continue. “I have to prove to him that I’m better than what he thinks. That I’m the best, and he missed out on not wanting to spend time with me.” I look up at the black-velvet sky full of stars. “Inside I’m still that dumb kid wanting him to love me.”

The waves crash, and I exhale heavily. These are words I’ve never said out loud to anyone other than my therapist. To be honest, I can’t believe it still matters so much to me, but it does. To this day.

Soft hands cup my neck. Slim fingers thread in the back of my hair. I swallow the thickness in my throat and meet her pretty eyes. They’re full of acceptance and warmth.

Her lips press together, and she smiles. “Okay.”

I blink several times before repeating it back to her. “Okay?”

“I understand.”

“You do?”

“You’re not a dumb kid, Logan. You’re so much more than that.” Her fingers tighten on the back of my neck, and she scoots a little closer. “I want to say forget about your father, but I also understand needing to prove yourself—if only for yourself. We’re a lot alike in that way.”

She blinks a few times, and I reach up to touch her chin. The moon is full tonight, and I see the sparkle on her lashes. It’s like a punch in the chest.

“Are you crying?”

Her eyes roll, and she tries to look away. “No?”

“You are.” I cup her face in my hands, sliding my thumbs over the tops of her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not that. I want you to be honest with me about who you are. Honesty doesn’t hurt me.” She looks at the sky, doing her best to quell the tears.

“What is it, then?” I feel like an asshole.

How could I be so forceful with her on our first date, when we’re just getting close? Now I really want to kick my ass.

“I’m crying because you’re leaving. There’s no point to this. I knew it from the start, but I did it anyway.”

Energy rises in my chest at her words. She did it anyway? “What did you do?” Her head is turned, so I gently catch her chin, guiding her gaze to mine. “Tell me.”

She blinks up at me, and I’m on edge, needing to hear her say it. “These past few days have been a dream, but I told myself not to get attached. When it’s over, you’ll go back to New York and forget all about me.”

I almost laugh. “Forget? Do you honestly think I could forget you? You’re the first woman who’s ever made me struggle with who I am and what I want to do with my life.”

It’s too soon to tell her she’s the first woman who’s made me think about things like having a wife and kids. She’s the first woman who’s made me feel like I deserve those things or that I might even be capable of having them and not fuck it all up like my dad did.

I think with Dylan by my side, I’d be able to do anything, and even more, I’d want to do everything.

“When I close my eyes, I see your face. No matter where I am, something reminds me of you.” My hands are on her shoulders. “Don’t you see?”

Her pretty lips pout, and a fresh stream of tears lines her cheeks. “What are you saying to me?”

“I want you to be my girl, Dylan. I want you on the sidelines cheering for me. I want you at home watching me when you can’t be at the games. I know I’m asking for something you said you’d never to do, and it kills me that you’ll say⁠—”

“Okay!” She cuts me off, and for a moment, I can’t speak.

We’re sitting in the sand holding each other with the noise of the surf crashing before us, and my chest breaks open.

“You will?”

She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine, as if she’s making a promise. I know this girl will keep it, too, because this girl is not like anyone I’ve ever known.

So I make my own solemn promise. “I’m going to win that trophy, and I’m going to retire. Then I’m coming back here for you.”

A smile lifts her cheeks, and her eyes are glassy. “I’ve never had a long-distance relationship before.”

“Me neither, but I want it with you. So that’s what we’re doing.”

Her chin drops, and she exhales a laugh. “Oh, we are?”

“Yes, now kiss me.”

Reaching for her, I slide my hands under her soft ass and pull her closer. Her hands move between us, and she grasps the zipper at the hem of her dress, sliding it higher, until I see she’s not wearing underwear. Desire surges straight to my dick.

“Dylan,” I groan, and my hand tightens on her ass, lifting her even closer.

She’s off the sand, sitting on the tops of my thighs, and she takes my hand, moving it between her legs to her bare pussy. “I’ve been thinking about you touching me here all night.”

Fuck me, this girl.

“You’re so wet.” I slide my fingers up and down, and her eyes close as she moans.

I quickly strip off the linen blazer I’m wearing and place it on the sand before rolling her onto her back. She’s so beautiful. Her knees are bent, and she’s looking up at me as I loosen my belt and jeans, easing the pressure on my straining cock.

She grasps the top of the second zipper and slowly lowers it to allow her bare breasts to spill out, and with a groan, I drop to my forearms, dragging my face over her beautiful body.

I cup her breasts in my hands and lift them, holding them together as I pull a nipple between my teeth gently. She squirms and moans, and I can’t resist.

“Your body is so beautiful.” I kiss across her breasts and repeat the ravaging on the other side. “I think I’m more a fan of Coyote Ugly Dylan than Nutcracker Dylan.”

“Nutcracker Dylan didn’t have her boobs yet,” she laughs, threading her fingers in my hair.

“Don’t get me wrong, you were always beautiful.”

She hums softly. “I know what you like.”

“I know what you like.”

I talked her through coming in her bed, and I’m going to give her the fantasy. My mouth moves down the center of her chest to her soft stomach, and her sighs melt into moans.

I pull her skin between my teeth, giving her a little nip as I make my way lower. She gasps my name, and I lean forward, wrapping my arms around her thighs and lifting her to my mouth. Then I slide my tongue up the center of her pussy, tracing slow circles over her clit.

“Logan!” Her fingers stab into my hair, and her back arches as she moans loudly.

Her words in her bedroom echo in my ears, and I slide my tongue hungrily over her clit as she moans my name. It’s the best sound, and my cock is so hard.

Everything is different now. Now is the start of something new. It’s the start of something I’ve never had yet always tried to find.

I built a family with my teammates, but that was different. I had no idea how good it could be to have it with a beautiful girl whose eyes are warm whiskey and whose body is sweet honey.

Sliding my palm over her stomach, her muscles quiver beneath my touch, and soft whimpers rise to louder moans. I slide my mouth higher, dragging my beard across her sensitive skin as I kiss my way up her stomach.

Her knees jump and sexy noises fall from her lips. When I reach her face again, I look down at her, wrapping my arms under her shoulders and pulling her tight against my chest. “I’m going to kiss you gently, then I’m going to fuck you hard.”

Her chin lifts and she cups my face in her hands. “You can kiss me hard, too.”

I start to laugh, but she rises off the ground to meet my mouth. Our lips seal together, and we fall back, sliding our tongues along each other’s. It’s the hottest, most amazing feeling. Her hand is on my bare stomach, and she moves it lower, rubbing my cock through my boxer briefs.

“It’s so big.” Her voice is husky, and her eyes are blazing. “I want to see it.”

I rise onto my knees, looking down at her sexy body on my jacket in the sand. Sitting on my heels, I shove my underwear down my hips, and my cock breaks free, hard and heavy.

Her eyes are on me in a way that has precome slipping from my tip, and I slide my hand over my erection, giving it a slow tug.

Her eyes widen. Her bottom lip goes between her teeth, and her knees rub together as she watches me.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” I groan.

“As sexy as you?” A naughty grin is on her lips, and I quickly take the wallet out of my pants to grab a Magnum, rolling it on fast.

Gripping her thighs, I spread her out before me. “Touch yourself.”

Her eyes are on mine as she does what I say, and I hold my cock in my hand, guiding it to her slippery core. She’s circling her clit, and when I insert the tip, her lips part. She exhales a deep sigh, and her fingers move faster.

“It’s so big,” she gasps, and a pulse moves through my cock.

I slide deeper, watching her body stretch to take me. Feeling her quivering as her orgasm rises.

“Fuck, Dylan,” I groan softly. “You take me so good.”

When at last, I’m fully seated, I hold, allowing her to get used to my size. Leaning forward, I kiss the base of her neck, that little space between her collar bones, and her legs start to shake.

Lifting my head, I meet her eyes, and she moves beneath me. “Fuck me, Logan,” she whispers. “I’m about to come.”

At that, my control slips. My hips move, and I thrust easy, steadily, until she’s ready. Soft whimpers slip through her lips, and she’s so warm and soft and wet and perfect. I kiss her lips before moving my cheek to hers.

Her knees rise, and she bucks against me, meeting my thrusts. Her whimpers turn to low moans, and her body clenches and tightens around my cock. My eyes squeeze shut, and the pleasure radiating through my pelvis is undeniable. I can’t hold back anymore.

Three more thrusts, and I hold, gripping her body as a violent orgasm rips through me. I pulse, filling the condom, and she moans, shuddering beneath me. My arms are around her body, and she’s flush against me. We’re soaring to the highest altitudes together, wrapped in each other’s arms. It’s incredible.

I hold through the final pulses, through her soft whimpers, and as we drift down together, I lift my chin to claim her lips again. Her tongue curls with mine, and it’s so good. It’s everything.

Sliding her hair away from her face with my fingers, I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her damp eyes. “Yep,” I whisper. “This is what we’re doing.”

“It’s going to be hard to be apart.” A wistful note is in her tone.

After that orgasm, I know it’s true, and I’m doing the math on how to get around it.