Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5) (28 page)

“You love me?” Brett didn’t seem to hear any
of her other words but those three. She’d give him points for
single-minded optimism.

“I love you.” Her resolve wavered a little,
and she gave it a stiff kick in the ass.

Brett scowled, the type of scowl her brother
would be damn proud of. Instead of begging and swallowing his
pride, his face grew hard, almost angry. “We can make this work if
we both try hard enough. Estie, you are the woman of my dreams. The
one I’d never thought I’d find. The missing piece of my life’s
puzzle. We can work it out because perfect is boring, and we can
muddle through the rest.”

Estie believed this man, believed he could
do anything he put his mind to. Look what he’d done with his
football career. He’d risen from a man who was never supposed to be
a starter to one of the NFL’s projected top free agents. But if she
gave in, where did that really leave her?

With shitload of regrets for both of
them.

She steeled herself, dug in her heels, and
held firm, and then she dropped the final bomb on their
relationship, the one he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You have
secrets. Places you’ve been, things you’ve seen that you’ve never
shared with me. I had a man once with secrets I didn’t even know he
had. I can’t do this. I can’t live with the uncertainty.”

Brett met her gaze with a closed-off
expression. He nodded, crossed the room, picked up Bongo’s
cage—even the bird was quiet for now— tucked Blackjack under his
arm, and headed for the stairs. He whistled to Risky and Humphrey
who hurried after him.

A second later he disappeared down the
stairs with his kids and out of her life.

Forever.

Estie crumpled to the floor and gave into
sobs that racked her body worse than the ones the night she’d been
told her father had died.

* * * * *

The week passed quickly, giving Brett very
little time to obsess over his lost love. He dropped into bed so
exhausted each night that he didn’t have much time to think about
the woman lying in the room directly above him and all the things
they’d done in that room.

In some unspoken agreement between animal
lovers, Estie still cared for his animals while he was at the
facility. He’d text her before he headed home each night, and
they’d be firmly ensconced in his little apartment by the time he
got home.

If Brett dwelled on it, the loneliness would
overwhelm him. He couldn’t let it wipe out the confidence he’d
gained in the past several weeks. Hell, he’d lost before,
experienced the depths of despair, seen carnage and tragedy, and
risen above it. He’d rise above this despite how hard it hit
him.

The team counted on him, and right now,
nothing mattered as much as the team. A few weeks from now would be
a different story.

Harris didn’t say a word if he was even
aware of Brett’s now-single status, but then Brett didn’t expect
him to mention it. Harris might be an asshole most of the time, but
he didn’t find the guy to be cruel or mean unless it was a member
of an opposing team who got under his skin.

That week spent in the apartment below Estie
couldn’t end soon enough. The Monday before the Super Bowl, the
team boarded their charter flight for San Diego and a week of what
promised to be extreme chaos and frenzy. In some weird way, he
welcomed it, even as he steeled himself against the panic and
claustrophobia. He was about to be put to the ultimate test of his
recovery.

And he wasn’t wrong; the first day of Super
Bowl week was chaos to the extreme. Everyone wanted a piece of him
until he didn’t think there were any pieces left unclaimed. And
somehow in the midst of all the media hype and ridiculous hoopla,
he and his teammates were supposed to prepare for a football game.
Yeah, right.

The only consolation was that New England
was going through the same bullshit. Only their quarterback had
been there before. Multiple times.

Have faith, Brett. Have faith.

Estie had had faith in him.

Oh, crap, fine time to be thinking about
her.

Brett crammed his clothes in his locker,
grabbed his helmet and jogged to the practice field. Thoughts of
Estie were not allowed. Not now. Later, but not now. Later when he
was in the darkness of his hotel room with Bruiser snoring in the
bed across the room, he’d allow himself to think about her.

He strode onto the practice field and felt
the determination etched on every line of his face. He’d earned
those lines and he’d earned this moment. He didn’t dwell on the
naysayers, all those people who claimed he couldn’t do it,
especially his father. He wouldn’t win this ring for them, he’d win
it in spite of them, and he’d do it for himself and his future
because at the end of the day, Brett Gunnels was a winner.

Brett stared at the group of guys, every one
of them depending on him, and despite how destroyed his personal
life might be, he’d dedicate the week to being everything they
needed him to be.

After the Super Bowl he could grieve the
loss of his relationship and figure out how to move on.

Alone.

Brett went through the game plan, just as
the coaches had outlined it. His passes hit their targets with
bullet-like accuracy. His handoffs were so smooth, he fooled his
own defense several times into following the fake instead of the
real ball handler, and their first practice in San Diego wrapped up
before he knew it.

As they headed into the locker room, Zach
caught up with him. “You’re peaking at the right time, Gun. Lookin’
good. You fooled me on that last play, caught me sightseeing like a
rank tourist.”

“You’re doing pretty good for an old man.”
Brett grinned, feeling almost giddy for the first time since Estie
broke it off with him. His goal hovered within reach. He could feel
it, taste it, smell it, and he liked the smell of victory. They had
to get through this week first and then past New England’s
formidable defense.

“There aren’t too many years separating us,”
Zach pointed out.

“Yeah, it’s not the years, it’s the
miles.”

“You’re that Cadillac the little old lady
keeps in her garage and takes it for a spin once a week to go
grocery shopping.”

“Yup, that’s me. A pampered Cadillac.” Brett
chuckled and so did Zach. Damn, it felt good to laugh and let off a
little tension. Brett couldn’t picture himself as a pampered
anything, let alone a luxury car.

Showering and dressing, Brett followed his
teammates out of the locker room into the warm California sun.
Several reporters milled around like sharks in a pond. One
particularly attractive woman separated herself from the group and
approached him. Brett recognized her immediately as a sideline
reporter for a major sports network. She looked even more gorgeous
in person than she did on TV, but she didn’t hold a candle to
Estie’s classic beauty.

She smiled at him, and politely he smiled
back.

“Ah, the elusive Brett Gunnels.” Tammy Parks
slid up close to him and clutched his elbow, as if she feared he
might bolt any second.

He’d sure as hell like to do just that. “I
doubt I’m elusive.” He met her gaze with a direct one of his own.
She stood an inch or so taller than him in her high-heeled boots.
He’d avoided her since they arrived in San Diego because Harris
told him the woman made it her personal mission to notch her
bedpost with as many pro athletes’ names as possible. Apparently
Tyler’s name was there from back in his single days. Harris
mentioned she wasn’t worth the drama that came with a night in her
bed. In fact, when they walked out of the locker room, the injured
quarterback gave her a wide berth.

Her cameraman shoved a camera in his face,
while Tammy shoved a microphone down his throat. HughJack hovered
nearby and caught Brett’s eye with one of those play-nice glowers
that HughJack perfected after years of working with an
unpredictable Tyler Harris.

“Brett, you’ll be a free agent in less than
a week.”

Brett nodded and offered no comment. Tammy’s
reputation on and off the field proceeded her. She twisted any
responses to fit the story she chose to tell, next thing you know,
it’d be all over Twitter, the blogs, and SportsCenter.

“Have you been exploring your options?”

“The only thing I’ve been exploring is
Sunday’s game plan.”

“Surely, you must be thinking of your
future, too. That’s human nature. Give me a little something. What
team are you leaning toward?”

“I can’t discuss that at this time, and you
know it. I’m not a free agent, and I can’t be officially contacted
by teams until I am.”

“Hypothetically speaking then, if Miami were
interested would you make them your top choice?”

Brett glanced at HughJack who made a slicing
motion across his throat. “I can’t answer that. Ask me about the
game if you want to ask me something.”

Tammy’s blue eyes flashed with anger. Brett
guessed she didn’t like being crossed or denied. Then her
expression changed and a slow smile spread across her face. She
nodded and asked him a few of the usual questions. Brett gave the
usual answers then she turned to her camera guy. “Let’s get to
Murphy next.”

Her partner headed in Murphy’s direction.
Tammy hesitated long enough to slide a business card a little too
deep in Brett’s pocket. “If you change your mind and want to talk
or engage in a little after-hours workout, my personal number is on
the card.”

Brett only nodded. Tammy strutted off, ready
to attack Murphy, who already looked like a cornered animal.

Brett had to smile as he managed to skirt
the other reporters and board the team bus back to the hotel. He’d
never call that woman, not now, not for a long time.

Not as long as his heart belonged to
Estie.

Chapter 17

Estie sat in a small café in Kirkland having
lunch with her mother and sister. She’d been avoiding them for
days. Finally Freddie had shown up on her doorstep, fully dressed
for combat with her
take-no-prisoners-especially-when-it-comes-to-sisters scowl. Estie,
who truly did value her life, accepted the lunch invitation, though
not exactly gracefully.

“You aren’t going to the game?” Freddie’s
voice dripped with disapproval as if she’d been forced to drink
coffee whose grounds came from a can. She narrowed her eyes and
assessed her sister with barely disguised annoyance—her normal
expression when it came to Estie.

Their mother, Trisha Harris, sipped her tea
and watched her two daughters with undisguised interest. Their
bickering never got a rise out of her, but she often stepped in to
prevent bloodshed and carnage, especially when innocent bystanders
might become involved.

“No, I don’t see any reason to go. Ty’s not
playing.”

Freddie raised one eyebrow and that one
eyebrow registered more disapproval than most people registered
with their entire bodies. “We have tickets. Ty’s paid for
everything. You can’t treat his money so cavalierly.”

Estie gritted her teeth and ignored her
sister’s criticisms. She’d dealt with them all her life. Freddie
didn’t suffer fools easily, and she considered Estie a fool. Sure,
she loved her, and Estie loved her back, but there’d never been
room for someone like Estie in Freddie’s black and white world. “I
don’t think it’s a good idea if I go.”

“Why not?” Freddie pushed.

“Haven’t you heard?” Estie couldn’t stand it
any longer. This wasn’t her family’s way. They usually attacked at
the first sign of noncompliance and weakness.

Freddie frowned and glanced at their
mother.

“Heard what?” Trish Harris’s brow furrowed
in complete confusion.

“About Brett and me.”

“Oh, that,” Freddie dismissed it as if the
news were as common as a rainy day in Seattle. Perhaps it was.

“That nice backup quarterback? Ty said
something about you two getting together.” Her mother’s expression
smoothed out.

“But now Brett and I are through.” Estie
choked on the last word as a sob broke free. She turned away,
hating them seeing her like this.

Freddie rolled her eyes. “You have to be
kidding me.” No sympathy from that corner.

“Oh, honey, what happened?” Trish put a
comforting hand on Estie’s arm, and Estie resisted the urge to
throw herself into her mother’s arms and cry like a
two-year-old.

Instead, she squared her shoulders and
fought off the tears, like a true hardass Harris. “We couldn’t work
out the logistics. Right guy, wrong time and place. I want to go
vet school. He’s going to another team. A good team.”

“All I’ve ever asked of you is that you
follow your heart. If you want to go to vet school, that’s an
excellent choice. I’ve always believed you’d make a great
veterinarian, but you were hell-bent on going into finance.”

“Yeah, the work you do with animals is
great.” For once Freddie said something positive, but Estie had no
doubt she’d find a way to flip it before the conversation
ended.

“I thought finance was what I wanted.” What
she’d thought was it was safe. And look how that turned out.

“Honey, you need to listen to your heart.
Now what happened with Brett?”

“You didn’t try to control him until he
couldn’t take it anymore, did you?” Freddie added. Another
chastising look from their mom to Freddie, not that it ever
penetrated Freddie’s thick skin any more than it did Tyler’s.

“It’s just not going to work.”

Her mother smiled. “I can ease some of the
pressure a little. At least financially, and I know how you fret
about finances. There’s money from your dad set aside for you after
you marry or turn thirty. I was waiting for your wedding to give it
to you. It’s not a lot, but it should give you a nice little
financial boost along with what you have saved.”