Need You Tonight (11 page)

Maybe I should try again. Invite her to do something with other people, not just me. If only to let her know that I’m a man of my word. I promised to help her.

Picking up my phone, I pull up her number.

“Thanks for asking me.”

Before I can say more, West joins us. “We’re short a keeper.”

“Make Chris play the position.”

“Dude, I like winning.”

“I’ll play.”

Both of us turn to look at Brooklyn. “You play soccer?”

She takes the ball from West and does a combination of moves that leaves me speechless. “The correct term is football.”

“Hell, yeah.” West high fives her. “There’s an extra pair of gloves by the goal, but they might be a little big.”

“Thanks.”

I watch as she jogs to the goal, her perky little ass and lithe legs making me groan. Turning to my best friend, I ask, “Any special reason why you want to torture me?”

He grins. “It’s Saturday?”

Flipping him the bird, I take my position near Brooklyn as a defender. “Ready?”

She nods, going to the center of the goal. “Bring it.”

“That’s for cheerleading,” I point out.

Brooklyn taps her chin with her finger. “Yet,
you
know it.”

“
Oooh
burn, Morgan. Now move your ass left,” West shouts.

I sprint toward the ball, diving between West and another player. We go down, and I roll to one side, before popping to my feet. The ball goes rogue, and the offense gets into position.

“Heads up, Brooklyn,” I shout, racing her way.

Number five kicks hard and high, nearly offsides. Brooklyn dives for the ball, her body stretching as she reaches for it. The ball brushes her fingertips but it’s enough to send it out of bounds. She hits the ground with a thud and it’s all I can do not to keep running to her so I can make sure she’s okay.

“Yeah, baby,” West yells as he celebrates on the field.

Brooklyn jumps to her feet, slightly limping as she walks back to the center. “You okay?” I ask.

She nods, white-lipped. “It’s been a while.”

Taking her at her word, I concentrate on the game. Our team manages to score three times on our opponents. I glance at Brooklyn. Thankfully, her face isn’t tight. Her lips aren’t white anymore either. She looks…happy. Into the game.

“Stop staring and go with the flow. Be the river,” West sings.

“Bite my ass,” I sing back.

“Why the two of you never got married is a mystery,” Chris says as he rolls his eyes.

“Envy green is so not your color,” I say.

“Fuck you, dude. Anyway, who’s the goalie?” he asks.

“Brooklyn Reeves.”

“I’ve never seen her before. Is she new in town?”

Suppressing the urge to kick him in the throat with my cleat, I say, “Yeah. She’s renting Miss Violet’s house.” Everyone knows who Miss Violet is around here. Her desserts and sewing are that famous.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess you’ve already gotten some of that.” He jerks his head in Brooklyn’s direction once more, just as she’s bending at the waist. Her shorts ride up so high that I can almost see her ass cheeks. “Damn, that’s something to sink your teeth into.”

I take a step toward Chris. Growing up, I never liked the privileged asshole very much, and I really don’t like him now. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“You don’t own this side of town, Morgan,” Chris sneers. “If it hadn’t been for West, you wouldn’t have been on this team. Losers like you belong on the other side of the tracks.”

Lowering my voice, I grab him by the collar of his shirt, uncaring that Brooklyn is watching us. This is the real me. The guy who broke up bar fights with his brother and didn’t take shit from the men who threatened us or our mother. “Losers like me, huh? Well, let me tell you something about losers from the other side of the tracks. We protect what’s ours and beat the ever-loving shit out of the ones who threaten what’s ours.” I jerk his face around, squeezing his cheeks so tight that he looks like he’s got a mouthful of marshmallows. “You will
never
touch her. You will never
think
about her. Because if you do, you’ll answer to me.”

“You’re fucking insane, just like your brother,” he spits out, but his eyes are wide and he looks as though he’s about to piss his shorts.

“Yeah, I am. And don’t you forget it.” I shove him away, my earlier good mood ruined. “West, I’m done. Call the game.”

“Fine with me,” he says. “I’ve got a date with McKenzie anyway.”

Brooklyn walks over to me as I start unlacing my shoes. “Why did your friend call the game?”

“He has a date.”

“Oh.”

I glance up at her. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkle. “Did you have a good time?”

“Better than you did.” Tilting her head to one side, she studies me. “Do you always get in fights with your teammates when you play?”

Chris slinks past us with his tail between his legs. I shoot him an eat-shit-and-die glare.

“Only when they deserve it,” I say loud enough for him to hear. I chuckle when he breaks out into a run. “Sorry fucker.”

She sits down beside me and pulls a water bottle out from her bag. “I packed an extra bottled water, if you’d like one.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” I take the water from her, twist off the lid, and drink it down, keeping my eyes on the pitch. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

“High school.”

“Too bad we never played you. If the girls on your team were anything like you, then the game would have been amazing.”

“I don’t think we were in high school at the same time.”

I jerk my gaze to her. I never asked her how old she was. I’d always assumed she was my age or younger. “You’re not twenty-one?”

“No. I’m twenty-five.” She looks at the ground. “My birthday was yesterday.”

“Did you celebrate it?”

She shrugs. “Not really.”

“Why?” Growing up, Cole and I never celebrated our birthdays, because it was too much of a reminder of how little we mattered to anyone. But after Kelly was born, we had agreed to make every birthday special for her.

“You really want to know?”

I don’t want to know, mostly because I’m afraid of what I’ll learn about her past. “Yes.”

“I share my birthday with Braden’s death.” She bites on her bottom lip. “Not the exact date…but after Braden died… three weeks later, I turned twenty-three. I didn’t feel like celebrating. Since then, I just stopped. Celebrating, that is. I don’t even put up a Christmas tree anymore, and that was my favorite holiday.”

Although, Soon Lin was the one to suggest I do something. She was the one to remind me that helping others would get my mind off myself.

“Do you have plans tonight?” he asks.

“For my birthday?”

“Uh, sure.” He stands, holding his shoes by the laces.

I shake my head. “I planned to watch a movie and eat pizza.”

“Okay. Gotta go.”

Bewildered, I watch him run to his truck and yank open the door. His tires burn tracks in the parking lot as he races out of there.

“Where did Parker go?” his friend asks.

“No idea. I’m Brooklyn Reeves, by the way.”

“West Diaz. Nice to meet you.” He takes out his phone. “I’ll give him a call to check on him before I head to McKenzie’s.”

“Oh good, because I was going to, but since you are…”
Shut up, Brooklyn. Just because you overheard the man defending your honor to some stranger with threats of violence does not mean he wants to pick out china patterns.
Not that I want to pick those out in the first place.

“Give him time, Brooklyn.”

West walks away, and I start for my car. Time is all I can afford to give Parker. Any more than that and I’ll crack.

Parker grins at me. “Not just any tree, but a Christmas tree. Pre-lit.”

Unsure what to do, I just stand there.

“If you let me inside, we can set it up and decorate it.”

Somehow, I make my fingers work to open the storm door to let him inside. He brushes past me, leaning down a little to kiss my cheek. “Happy Birthday, Brooklyn.”

Setting the tree by the fireplace in the living room, he dashes back outside, calling over his shoulder, “I have some more stuff to get out of my truck, so prop open the door for me.”

Sparks of excitement come to life inside of me, despite the shock of seeing him and the tree in my living room. After propping the door open, I wander back to the living room to stare in awe at the tree. I touch the branches, feel the lights that have yet to be lit, and marvel at the height.

“I’ll plug it in.”

The tree blazes to life, with multicolored lights that twinkle. “You have to pull out the branches, sweetheart, so we can decorate.”

My lip trembles as I turn to face him. Only, whatever I was about to say completely rushes out of my mind when I see the stack of boxes. Some are wrapped in Christmas paper and others in the bright colors of party paper.

“Are those for me?” Tears prick at my eyes, a few escaping. I dash them away with my knuckles. “Did you do all of this just for me?”

Parker takes a step toward me, and then another until hardly anything at all separates us. “I know what it’s like not to celebrate—not for the reasons you have, but because we knew no one cared about us. When Kelly came along, Cole and I decided to make everything as special for her as we could.”

“But I’m not your family,” I whisper. “I’m nothing to you.”

He leans down and kisses my cheek. Again. “I wouldn’t say that.”

I tilt my head back a little to look up at him. “I still don’t quite understand.”

“Neither do I.” He runs a hand through his hair, making it all messy and sexy. “But I’m getting there.”

“Wait, you’re the birthday girl. Birthday girls are not allowed to do anything but eat cake and ice cream while being waited on hand and foot.”

“You brought me a birthday cake, too?”

He grabs a white box and brings it to me, flipping the top open. Unlit candles and rainbows with flowers decorate it. “I had no idea what you like, so it was either Happy Divorce Party or this—which was for a kid’s party that had the date moved at the last second.”

“Don’t apologize,” I say hoarsely. “Don’t…” I take the cake and set it down on the coffee table and grab Parker up in a hug. “This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a very long time.”

His big, strong hands run up and down my back. I know he’s not meaning to, but with every pass, he’s fitting me to him, making me melt against his hard body.

“Did your parents know you don’t celebrate anything anymore, or are you not that close to them?”

I shake my head. “I hid it from them. I was too ashamed to let them know how weak I was.”

“Oh, baby. You are the opposite of weak. You’re strong. So damn strong. Sure, you’re fragile right now, but that just means to handle with extra care. That
you
need extra care and attention. That you need a birthday cake and a Christmas tree in May.”

Even as I cry, I laugh. My body shakes, but he holds me tighter. “I missed you. Your laugh. Your smile. Every damn thing about you.”

“You did?” I lean back in his arms as he nods.

“Why wouldn’t I miss your friendship?”

I tense up. I can’t help it. I was the one who was supposed to friend-zone him, not the other way around.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“I can take the tree down. Take everything back. Your call,” he says, and it makes me want to cry harder because he’s being so sweet and understanding. “I promised I’d be here for you, to be the one you could lean on when everyone else put too much pressure on you.”

Now it all made sense. He hadn’t really come here because he missed me. He felt guilty. He felt like he had to honor a promise he made when I broke down in front of him.

“Don’t go there, Brooklyn,” he warns. “Don’t make this what it’s not. I want to be here. I want to be your friend. There are a thousand other places, thousands of miles away, that I could be, but I’m here. With you and for you. Take a chance on me. Right here, right now.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

He presses a kiss to my temple. “What would you like to do first—decorate, eat your cake, or open your presents?”

Taking a step back, I survey the room, which is practically stuffed with Christmas decorations and boxes. “You really bought me presents?”

“Yeah. It’s not much, since I had short notice, but I think you’ll like them.”

“Presents,” I blurt and then smash my lips together. I sound so greedy.

He takes one and hands it to me. “Birthday present first.”

It’s brightly wrapped and topped with a purple and pink bow. “It’s almost too pretty to open.”

“Either you rip it open or I will,” he says sternly.

I make a face at him. “Yes, sir, Mr. Morgan.”

An odd look gleams in his eye before he drops his gaze. I quickly unwrap the present and open the box. “Shin guards and keeper gloves,” I laugh, staring at the black, purple, and white shields, and the matching gloves.

“You didn’t have any on, and West said the team wants you to be our backup goalie. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Biting my lip, I let that sink in. He’s protective of me, concerned about my safety when it’s not his job. “Thank you.”

He peers at me, through lashes so thick that I’m slightly jealous. “You’re welcome. You can open the rest while I finish unpacking.”

I sit on the floor, beside the tower of presents, and begin to open each one. They are filled with candy and glittery pens, a beautiful cream-colored scarf…and a plastic tiara with fake pink and white diamonds.

Of course, I love it and immediately put it on. It’s obvious that Parker is used to shopping for a very girlie little girl.

“You have to wear it,” he says as he strings lights along the mantle.

I clear my throat and he glances at me. A smile tugs at his mouth while his eyes light up. “Ta-da!”

“Hot, girl. So, hot.” He winks at me, and my body does, in fact, become very hot.

Stupid body.

I lift the last box. “Oof, this is heavy and big.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Really?” I ask with a teasing grin he can’t see. “That’s still a thing?”

He shrugs. “Guess not.”

I snort. “I was just giving you a—” The paper falls away and I stare at the box. Then I jerk my gaze to his. “You bought me a purple toolbox?”

An uneasy look passes over his face. “Yeah.”

I flip on the locks and lift the lid. “And you filled it with tools?” Taking out a screwdriver, I hold it up and examine the purple handle.

“Yeah.”

“I love it!”

He nods, taking a large star out of the last box. “Good.”

“I want to screw something!” I chirp. “Did you bring me something to screw?”

He gives me a cocky grin. “I’m sure we could find something for you to screw.”

“Not you,” I say, my cheeks growing hot. Though the idea has crossed my mind about a million times since I met him.

“That’s a mighty big assumption you’ve just made.” His shirt lifts as he stretches to put the star on top of the tree. I can see his ripped abs from my vantage point.

“How does it look?”

“Very nice,” I sigh, still looking at his body. This is bad, bad, bad. I can’t go from these emotional highs and lows to lusting after Parker’s body. He’s not here for that.

“I meant the tree, sweetheart.”

I almost give myself whiplash as I yank my head in the opposite direction and then look up. Blinking at the lights, I can hardly take it all in, so I lay down.

“Most people would stand on the other side of the room,” he points out.

With a grin, I frame the tree with my hands. “Most people would be wrong.”

“It’s your birthday,” he says. To my surprise, he sits down beside me. My gaze slides to his profile, and my heart flutters in my chest. I have it bad. Even if he doesn’t.

But I can be okay with that. I don’t have to have a relationship with the first man I find attractive. I’m sure I’ll find other men attractive once I work through my issues and decide to date.

Suddenly, Parker stretches out beside me, one arm behind his head to prop it up. “Hmm. This
is
a nice viewpoint.”

He turns to look at me and I quickly look away, so he doesn’t catch me staring at him. “Told you.”

“I’ll take a picture.” He takes one of the tree, and then scoots closer to me and turns the camera on us. “Smile.”

“I only got to spend one Christmas with Braden, so we didn’t have any traditions yet,” I blurt while he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

“How long were you married?”

Not long enough.
“Almost three years, but he spent two of them mostly gone on missions or deployed.”

“Must have been hard.”

“Marines don’t complain and neither do their wives,” I automatically say, smiling wistfully. “That was our motto.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the holiday music Parker has playing on his cell. The scent of evergreen and cinnamon washes over me, courtesy of the candles he thought to bring and light.

“You okay, Brooklyn?” he asks in that low voice of his that sends shivers through my body.

The fleeting touch of his hand to mine startles me a little, but in my next heartbeat, our fingers are laced together. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, and my heart races.

“I am.” Actually, I’m more than okay. Or at least for the moment I am. Extreme happiness and sadness suddenly overwhelm me at his gesture and the details he didn’t overlook. If what he did here for me, in a few hours time, is any indication of what he did for his little sister, I can’t imagine what kind of life he had to deal with that drove him to this extreme.

“Tell me about your brother and sister.”

“We’re close. I love them. No one comes close.”

“Except for West.” I turn my head, and our gazes collide.

He grins a little. “Yeah, we have a bromance.”

“You’re a very cute couple.”

He gives me a look, and I giggle. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before.”

I think I’m falling for you.
“We’re celebrating Christmas in May?”