“I don’t live my life to please my dad.” She sounded more bitter than she’d intended, so she softened her tone. “Let’s not talk about him. All I want to think about tonight is you and me.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sounds like a plan.”
Hayden stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, and he made her laugh by giving her ass a firm squeeze.
“Save it for later,” she warned.
“Spoilsport.”
The drive to his Hyde Park home was a short one. When they pulled up in front of his place, Hayden was genuinely shocked to see a large Victorian with a wraparound porch and a second-floor balcony. Flowers were beginning to bloom in the beds flanking the front steps, giving the house a cheerful, inviting air.
“Weren’t expecting this, were you?” he said as he shut off the engine.
“Not really.” She smiled. “Don’t tell me you actually planted all those flowers yourself?”
“Fuck no. I didn’t choose the house, either. My mom flew out here when I was drafted by the Warriors, and she found the house. She did all the gardening, too, and she visits once a year to make sure I haven’t destroyed her handiwork.”
They got out of the car and drifted up the cobbled path toward the front door. Inside, Hayden’s surprise only grew. Decorated in warm shades of red and brown, the interior boasted a roomy living room with a stone fireplace, a wide maple staircase leading upstairs, and an enormous modern kitchen with two glass doors opening onto the backyard.
“Want something to drink?” he offered, crossing the tiled floor toward the fridge. “I don’t have that herbal tea you like, but I can brew you a cup of Earl Grey.”
“How about something stronger?”
He gave a faint smile. “You really did have a bad day, huh?”
He moved to the wine rack on the counter and chose a bottle of red. Grabbing two glasses from the cupboard, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Are you going to tell me about it or do I have to fuck it out of you?”
“Hmm.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m kind of leaning toward the fuck.” Her expression sobered when he shot her an evil look. “Fine... I’ll tell you.”
Brody poured the wine, handed her a glass and then led her to the patio doors. The backyard was spacious, adorned with more flowers that Brody’s mom must have planted. The fence surrounding the area was so high she couldn’t see the neighboring yards, not even from the raised deck on the patio. At the very far corner of the lawn stood an idyllic-looking gazebo surrounded by thick foliage.
They stepped onto the deck, where a surprisingly warm breeze met them. It was a gorgeous night, the warmest she’d experienced since coming home, and she breathed in the fresh air and tilted her head to admire the cloudless sky before finally releasing a long breath.
“I paid a visit to my stepmother today,” she said.
She filled him in on the details, leaving her conversation with Doug for the end. Brody’s jaw tensed at the mention of Doug’s name, but as he’d promised her the night they went skating in the deserted practice arena, he didn’t freak out about it. When she finished, he set his wineglass on the wide rail ringing the deck and gently caressed her shoulders.
“You didn’t have to tell him about us,” he said.
The remark surprised her. “Of course I did. I told you about him. Doesn’t he deserve the same courtesy?” She lifted her glass to her lips.
“You’re right.” He paused. “So it’s over between you and Doug?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “He hung up on me, which is very uncharacteristic of him. I don’t think he’s happy with me at the moment.”
When Brody didn’t answer, she put down her wine and reached up to cup his strong chin with her hands. “You’re not happy with me, either, are you?”
He looked her in the eye and said, “I am happy.”
“You are?”
“I love being with you, Hayden.” He blew out a ragged breath. “And I’m glad it’s over with Doug. It was frustrating as hell, knowing there was another potential man in your life. And not just any man, but one who works in your field, who shares your passion for art and is probably much better at those intellectual conversations you’re always trying to have with me. I feel like a dumb oaf in comparison.”
A pained look flashed across his handsome face, and it took her a moment to realize it wasn’t really pain she saw in his eyes, but vulnerability. The idea that Brody Croft, the most masculine man she’d ever met, could be vulnerable stole the breath from her lungs. God, did he actually feel inadequate? Had she made him feel that way?
Her heart squeezed at the thought, and she found herself reaching for him. She twined her arms around his neck and brushed her lips over his.
“You’re not a dumb oaf,” she murmured, running her fingers over the damp hair curling at the nape of his neck.
“Then you won’t mind if I make an intelligent, rational point about how difficult you’re being.”
She raised her chin. “And what on earth am I being difficult about?”
Brody let out a breath. “Come on, you think I don’t see that look in your eyes whenever I have a plane to catch? Every time I’ve left town for an away game, you’ve withdrawn from me. I felt it.”
Discomfort coiled inside her belly, causing her to drop her arms from his neck.
“See, you’re doing it again,” he pointed out, smiling faintly.
“I just...” She inhaled slowly. “I don’t see why it’s an issue.”
“If it keeps you from entering into a relationship with me, then it is an issue.”
“We agreed to keep things casual,” she reminded him.
“You agreed to keep an open mind.”
