Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1 (7 page)

That was a big fish. “Wow. What do you do with them? Did you eat it?”

“No, we let it go.”

Abby jerked at the sudden interruption of Brack’s voice. He stood in the open door of the room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. The light-gray sweater and green-collared shirt beneath hugged his muscular form to perfection. Dark jeans and work boots made him so completely male, she nearly stopped breathing. “I didn’t see you there.”

Jonathon followed her gaze and immediately started signing. Abby ignored the conversation between father and son and waved to Meagan when the interpreter left. She cleaned up the workspace to keep busy, uncomfortable with their occasional glances. Jonathon signed her name once, and she cursed her slow retention of the signs.

Brack chuckled. “Abby said that?”

Okay, she couldn’t ignore that.

Accidentally knocking her bag from the table, she crouched to clean up the mess. “What did he say?”

With a wide grin, he knelt down to help. “He said you like fishing.”

“That’s not exactly what I said.” The subtle aroma of coffee and…fresh-cut wood assaulted her senses. Mercy, it wasn’t enough that he looked delicious? He had to smell amazing too? “I did enjoy his story about striper fishing.”

“He reads people’s reactions.” He helped her to her feet with a hand at her elbow. “Then he assumed that you would like fishing too. That’s why I asked if you actually said it.”

“Gotcha.” She tried to move away, but the bookshelf behind her stopped her progress. Being in close quarters with him made it difficult to breathe. All her promises to keep her reactions controlled after the mud fight four nights ago withered under his gaze. It was no use.

“So? Want to go sometime?”

“Go?” Now she was a parrot? Great.

“Fishing,” he supplied, still way too in her space for coherent thought.

Jonathon stepped into the conversation then, his hands on overdrive. Brack laughed. “He thinks you’ll do better than me. I’m not lucky with the fishes.”

How could she say no? Two sets of absolutely beautiful eyes stared at her. One with youthful joy, one with something she couldn’t read but so wanted to. “Sure. I mean, I guess I could give it a shot.”

Jonathon grabbed her shoulder. With slow movements, he signed for her to ask his father about softball. She steadied herself to meet Brack’s gaze again. “Right. I’ve asked Jonathon to manage the softball teams for me. He’s very excited, and I’d be willing to give him a ride home if need be.”

Jonathon signed quickly to his father. All she could make out were several, very drawn-out, very pathetic,
please
s. It didn’t take long. Brack signed back, and she didn’t have to guess his answer. Jonathon tossed his papers in the air with a silent yell, then gathered them up a moment later under his father’s stern glance.

Just as quickly, a grin broke on Brack’s face, and Abby sucked in a sharp breath. That easy quirk of his lips turned her insides to a seamless current of electricity.

Centering herself, she focused on anything besides how good he looked. “Is it possible, sometime soon, to have me officially inducted onto the team?”

“Everyone wants something.” His easy chuckle softened the statement. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

“I know what I want.”

His gaze held hers for a long moment, the heat percolating her blood. “Do you?”

She nodded, licking lips suddenly dry under the low, husky tenor of his words. “I love what I do.” She let her eyes roam over the firm line of his jaw where a faint shadow of whiskers begged for her touch. She could easily imagine the bristled texture, the warmth of his skin, and crushed her hands into fists. “I’m also not one for boredom.”

“Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“Yeah, guess so.” His eyes lit with devilment and he leaned a hip against the table, keeping her blocked in the corner. “Of course, this means you have to help out at the annual auction.”

Gag. She hated fundraising, but she’d weather one weekend if it kept the peace.
Mental note, chocolate martini ingredients needed before fundraising hell.
“No problem. Count me in.”

His smile held a tinge of secrecy, and she shivered in response. It truly wasn’t fair that all he had to do was smile and she was mud. If he smiled like that during drills she’d be the best-behaved member of his team. Now if he’d just ask for something like a night of roll-your-eyes-back-into-your-head sex, she’d cave without hesitation. After all, what good was her temporary freedom if she couldn’t enjoy it?

“Good. I’ll make sure I put you on the list.” He turned to Jonathon, signing that he’d give him a ride.

Jonathon waved and headed for the door. He nearly collided with Rand as he entered the room. Jonathon lit off on a flurry of signs, and Rand laughed. “Thatta boy. Makes an uncle proud to know you’ve weaseled your way into an activity that includes all girls.”

“’S’got to be the Elliot blood,” Brack added.

This was the first brotherly banter Abby had seen since meeting the men. She had to give it to their poor mother. Disciplining these two and Jacob must have been hell on the heart. “Your mother must have had to drink.”

Both Elliot gazes landed on her, but it was Brack who spoke. “Why’s that?”

“Keeping you two in line.”

The brothers laughed. Rand clapped Jonathon on the shoulder and signed goodbye before looking back at Abby. “She didn’t have to worry about us. It was Lawson who gave her all her gray hair.”

“Lawson?”

Rand nodded. “Our littlest brother.”

Really, there were more of them?

As if she’d asked the question out loud, Brack smiled. “There are five of us all together. Gage is in the military.”

Wow. For the smile and the number. “And I thought the two of you were enough.”

Jonathon grabbed Brack’s arm and gave him a tug toward the door. With a parting glance, Brack followed his son out. Abby dropped down on the closest chair and sighed. Elliot men were exhausting.

“What’s got you so happy?” Rand grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet near the window and poured himself some of the strong brew left over from that morning. He cringed slightly when he took a sip.

“Brack agreed to let me join fire and rescue.”

Rand sat in the chair across from her with a sharp laugh. “He didn’t have a choice. If he hadn’t agreed, Allen and Linda, as chief and assistant chief, would have overruled him.”

Did it matter how she was accepted? Not in the least. “Well. I’m just happy. I even agreed to do this auction-fundraiser-thingy, and trust me when I tell you I’d rather have a root canal.”

The second sip of coffee he took sprayed across the table. Swiping at his spill, he chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to thank Brack for that. And save my next paycheck.”

Confused, she reached over to grab him a napkin. “Why?”

He stood and dumped the coffee in the sink. “Because
you
are what’s being auctioned, my dear. Highest bidder gets your services for the day.”

She dropped her forehead to the table, ignoring Rand’s laughter.

The next day, Brack pulled his truck into the parking lot and looked down the hill at the sports complex.

In the middle of the mud and lingering snow that caked the softball field, Abby and about twenty filthy girls ran the bases. The girls’ clothing colors couldn’t be distinguished through the grime, but not one of them seemed to care. He was about to open the truck door when Abby was pushed to the front of the line by the girls. Laughing, she pulled her ponytail tighter and sprinted down the first-base line.

He should have known she’d be into the fun up to her ears. She rounded first with graceful strides, heading to second base where she slid through the muck, sending a spray of mud and slush into the air.

Determined to keep his eyes off her, he tried to locate Jonathon. His son stood just on the other side of the farthest dugout, his mop of hair tucked beneath a baseball cap. But this time, he’d tipped it back, his smile focused on a young blonde who leaned against the wooden frame of the dugout.

Her fingers traced over his shoulder when she tried to gain his attention, and an easy happiness filled Brack at the joy on Jonathon’s face. God, he worried about him.

Leaving the Hatten School had made things different. But in a good way. He liked having his son home. Conversation still came stilted, but he hoped that would change with time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so tense if he’d been there for Jonathon. He’d tried to help his son through their loss. But he’d been consumed as well. Looking back, Brack realized there were so many times when Jonathon had needed him. Hell, it was no wonder the kid acted out. Brack had left him to his own devices, then sent him off to school. Even on the weekends Jonathon had been home, the fire department calls had taken Brack away.

“Lynette likes him.” Abby laughed when Brack jerked in surprise. “Sorry to sneak up on you.”

His smoky, brooding eyes made a slow perusal down her body. “You’re a mess.”

Shaken by the touch of his gaze, she stepped back as he climbed out of his truck. “Yep. But it was so much fun.”

“Who likes who?”

“Lynette.” Abby knew he’d been watching and wondered why he hadn’t come down. She’d never met someone so reluctant to engage in his child’s life, yet so obviously craving the connection. “She likes Jonathon.”

Brack walked past her to lean his elbows against the hood of the truck. “And she’s not—embarrassed by him being deaf?”

“Children are more accepting than adults any day.”

“He used to be teased.” Fatherly anger furrowed his eyebrows. “A lot. But his mother used to tell him the other kids were just jealous because they couldn’t speak in code. That worked until he was nine.”

“Then what did he do?” She could imagine Jonathon as a young boy, his feelings trampled by the other kids in his class. But the mention of his mother sparked her curiosity again. No ring. No mention of Jonathon visiting her… Shit. She needed to focus. “How did he manage?”

“He punched the first kid.” Brack chuckled. “That didn’t go over well with his mother, but I couldn’t have been more proud. ’Course, I had to curb that and handle the situation like a grown adult.”

“I would have punched them too.” She leaned against the truck next to him, then stepped away when she remembered her filthy clothing. “Sorry.”

“She’s seen worse.” He didn’t spare a glance at the truck, and Lynette’s laughter drew his attention. “So, this Lynette. Is she the reason he wanted to manage the team?”

“In part. Though at the time, he really didn’t have one particular girl in mind.” She noticed the tiny smirk that turned the corner of his mouth.
Men
. Pride came in such simple fashions for them. “Lynette’s just recently decided she’s tired of waiting. Girl doesn’t have a shy bone in her body.”

His easy glance turned on her, and she forgot to breathe. “A lot like her coach.”

“I never had the opportunity to be shy.” She shrugged, not sure if the trepidation she used to experience when she entered yet another new school would qualify as shyness. “When Dad left, my mother and I started moving. She liked adventure and new places. We never stopped.”

“So you get it from her?”

“What?”

“Your penchant for breaking the rules?”

It was the only thing she’d gotten from her mother—so far. She flashed him a smile to hide her discomfort with the topic. “You’re judging again. But yes. She did things her own way. It wasn’t until later, in my teens, when I realized there was more to her bizarre behavior than just a flighty personality.”

Genuine interest sparked in his gaze. “What do you mean?”

The words just wouldn’t come. Any number of descriptions could fit, but she didn’t want to think about her mother right now. Not when she could enjoy Brack’s presence and the easy conversation they shared. “Nothing. She just did things differently.”

He seemed ready to ask more, but to his credit, he held silent on the matter. “So Lynette and Jonathon are a—thing?”

Fastening on the change in topic, she let thoughts of her mother melt away. “I’d say it’s headed that way.”

“Smart kid.”

“Girls aren’t the only reason he’s helping me.” She’d wondered how to broach this subject. Brack’s eyebrows rose expectantly, and she rushed on, “He’s interested in trying out for the baseball team next season. Thought maybe he’d pick up some time on the field.”

“I didn’t know.” Rapping his knuckles on the truck hood, he stared at his son. “That’s great.”

“I told him I’d work with him, you know, teach him some of the basics.”

His body stiffened. “I can do that.”

Good, she’d hoped for that reaction. “That’s great. I know he’d much rather have you than me, anyway. He was just worried about your schedule.”

“He told you that?”

The anger in his voice surprised her. “Yes. He said you were busy with work and calls. Didn’t want to add to your schedule.”

“He’s not a damn job.” His hands fisted. “I can always find time for my son. I spend as much time with him as I can.”