Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5) (25 page)

With a sincere smile on his face, Brett
stepped forward and shook Tyler’s hand. “Hey, man, I couldn’t have
done it without you. You were with me every step of the way.”

Tyler’s ruffled feathers smoothed back a
little, and he smiled, first at Brett, then for the cameras. He put
his arm across Brett’s shoulders and mugged for the cameras, the
perfect example of team unity. Estie shrank into the background,
fully aware she’d screwed up one more time by making a scene in
public. Hopefully, Tyler and Brett covered up well enough that no
one noticed her argument with her brother.

Helplessly, she watched as a sea of
reporters engulfed Tyler and Brett, pushing her further and further
until she couldn’t even see the tops of their heads.

Lavender touched her arm and guided her away
from the crowd into the tunnel where prying eyes and cameras didn’t
reach them. “Get used to it. That’s the way it’ll be as long as
they play this game. They don’t belong to us. They belong to the
game. It’s all about the game.” Lavender spoke honestly and openly
with no resentment in her voice. Her sympathetic gaze said it all.
Lavender knew exactly what Estie was going through—and then
some.

Estie nodded. “How do you do it?”

“You take what little piece you can and be
grateful for it, knowing this is their time, and it’s such a brief
moment in an entire lifetime that I would never begrudge Tyler the
effort he puts into it. If you’re thinking of making this a
permanent thing with Brett, you’d best realize you’ll be in the
backseat as long as he straps on a helmet every season.”

“It’s not like I haven’t been around
football in one form or another all my life, but this is
different.” Estie stared toward the field where Brett fended off a
herd of reporters.

“It’s not easy. You spend a lot of time by
yourself, which is why I’m working on my degree.”

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Lonely is pretty much a given when you’re
committed to a pro athlete in any sport. I’m okay with it. It won’t
last forever, and I have my animals, friends, and family.”
Lavender’s gaze drifted to Tyler, surrounded by another group of
equally rabid reporters. Estie knew Tyler ate up the attention,
while Brett only seemed to tolerate it. Lavender’s eyes lit up as
she watched her boyfriend in action, totally devoted to him.

Estie didn’t know if she had such devotion
in her. And what about all the lonely nights? Could she handle
them? Sure, she’d still have her animals, but if she moved with
Brett to another team, she wouldn’t have her support system she had
here. In her heart, she wanted to follow him to his new team, be
the wife he deserved, the lover he craved, and the best friend he’d
ever had.

But she had her hopes and dreams, too, just
like he did.

She’d already begun to investigate the
pre-vet program at UC Davis. Brett couldn’t know that because it
would influence what team he chose, and she couldn’t be responsible
for that decision.

This was Brett’s dream. The choice needed to
be Brett’s and Brett’s alone, even if it meant the end of their
relationship.

* * * * *

After waiting in the car for a half hour,
Estie texted Brett a few times but got no response. They’d avoided
making prior plans to celebrate in the fear they might jinx the
team, yet she’d assumed they would do something if the team won.
Finally, she left the stadium and drove home alone. Tonight was
Brett’s moment, and she’d let him have it without any interference
from her, even though it did hurt just a little that he hadn’t
taken the time to text her. Such selfish thoughts weren’t allowed,
and she swatted them away.

Looking for a distraction, she sat down at
the counter to identify the steps needed to carry out her immediate
plans. Only her plans didn’t match her desires, and so much of her
desires had to do with Brett.

Estie had a radical thought. Maybe if a
person just let life happen—which was damn hard for someone who
needed to control every minute detail—said life would have a way of
working out.

She’d have to let that thought simmer for a
while. It was way out of her comfort zone.

After taking care of her animals, Estie
wandered downstairs to be nearer to Brett by being near those few
things he held so dear in his life. Marilyn followed her, but the
rest of her menagerie didn’t interrupt their beauty sleep.

As soon as she walked into Brett’s apartment
Bongo started his repertoire of swear words and obscene phrases
until she distracted him with his favorite classic rock. The parrot
chirped and sang and did his own little parrot dance to the beat of
the music.

Estie had to laugh, somewhat cheered up by
the little guy. Humphrey wagged his tail from his spot on the dog
bed snuggled next to Risky. The two emotionally scarred dogs had
become fast friends and gave each other confidence to face their
little world. She also had to credit Brett for Humphrey’s recovery.
Even though his spare time was severely limited, he’d coaxed the
big dog partway out of his depression. Estie smiled at the
brightness in Hump’s eyes, compared to how dull they’d been in the
clinic. The big guy got better day by day.

Impatient, Estie paced the floor. She wanted
nothing more than to share the victory, hold Brett close, gaze into
those pale blue eyes that’d be lit up like the Space Needle on New
Year’s Eve, and congratulate him on making it to the Super
Bowl.

Estie went back upstairs. Another hour
passed, one long, excruciatingly lonely hour. Estie stared out the
window at the long driveway, but not one set of car lights could be
seen all the way to the county road. She picked up her cell to text
Brett then set it back down. She missed him and wanted to celebrate
with him. Her conversation with Lavender came flooding back, and
she wondered if she was really cut out to be involved with an NFL
player, especially a quarterback. Despite Lavender’s words, she
didn’t know how she did it. A future with Brett would most likely
involve giving up her dream or putting it on hold even longer for
Brett’s dream. Would their love withstand all the pressures put
upon it? Already, despite Tyler’s devotion to Lavender, she saw
cracks in their relationship. Estie didn’t have the answers, and
part of her wanted those answers now, wanted them to fall into neat
little compartments.

And what about his dark places, those places
that brought on the nightmares? Could she handle the
unpredictability of that? Could she deal with something she
couldn’t control?

With a deep sigh, Estie wandered back down
into Brett’s bedroom. Usually, they were ripping off each other’s
clothes, and she never took the time to really examine this most
private of rooms. The rest of the apartment had taken on a generic
quality, giving away nothing of the person who lived there.

Nosing around like a stalker, she explored
the room, looking for little keys to the Brett she didn’t know, the
quiet man who never gave away much, the man with sadness always
lurking in his gaze.

She discovered an old photo album stuffed in
a drawer and thumbed through pictures of a young Brett and his
family. Sadly, he didn’t look too happy in any of the pictures;
even his mother and father’s smiles were strained. In a few photos
disapproval clouded his father’s features as he looked at his son.
She counted two brothers and two sisters, both older and younger.
Brett never talked about his family and rarely if ever visited
them, at least not since she’d known him. Her family, as annoying
as they could be, were everything to her.

Estie stashed the album back in the drawer
and opened a small, carved wooden box on the particle-board
dresser, one more clue that Brett was a man who didn’t care much
for appearances, unlike her. Carelessly tossed inside were two
Super Bowl rings amidst some receipts, a couple pens, a broken
watch, and spare change. Picking up one of the heavy rings, she
examined it closely. Most football players would give their
firstborn for a ring, but Brett hid his as if he were ashamed of
it.

“What are you doing?” came an oh-so familiar
voice from the doorway.

Estie gave a guilty start at being caught
red-handed. The ring fell from her fingers right back into its
former resting place, nestled among the relatively worthless items.
Instead of snapping the lid shut, she fished it back out and held
it up for him to see, as if he didn’t know what was in there.

Brett frowned, his lips forming a tight,
tense line while his eyes fixed on the piece of gaudy jewelry in
her palm. He said nothing, but that revealing muscle ticked in his
jaw.

“Why do you keep your Super Bowl rings
hidden away in box?”

Not taking his eyes off the ring, Brett
walked across the room until only a few feet separated them. He
plucked the ring from her hand and rolled it around on his palm, as
if testing the weight and genuineness of it. Finally, he dropped it
in the box and shut the lid. He raised his gaze to meet hers.
Instead of anger over her nosiness, his expression turned to one of
regret and sadness. “Because I didn’t earn them.”

“Of course, you earned them.” What a crazy
thing to say. Estie didn’t understand, not one bit.

Brett frowned and crossed his arms across
his chest, his typical defensive stance. “I never played a down in
any of those playoff games.”

“But you were there. You supported your
teammates. You watched game film and pointed stuff out to them. You
practiced with them, made them a better team because of your
efforts.”

He shrugged, not looking the least bit
convinced. “Yeah, but any jackass could do that.”

“Not any jackass.” She pointed at his chest.
“This jackass. And now you’re getting your chance. Promise me
you’ll wear that ring when you earn it.”

“
If
I earn it.” A little of that old
uncertainty crept into his voice and was reflected in his downcast
eyes.

“No, Brett.
When
you earn it.” She
moved into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him
soundly. “You are going to do this.”

He returned the kiss and drew back. A smile
tugged at one corner of his mouth. He sat down on the bed and
pulled her into his lap. Determination once again etched in his
ruggedly handsome features demonstrated by the jut of his jaw and
narrowing of his eyes. “With you at my side, I believe I can do
anything.”

“You can do anything with or without me.”
Estie ran a finger across his cheek, and he sucked in a breath,
just like he always did when she touched him.

“I’d rather do it
with
you.” Brett
grabbed her hand and sucked her index finger into his mouth. Estie
groaned, and he flashed his white teeth in a female-melting grin
then his expression sobered to one of utmost seriousness. “Are you
going somewhere?”

“Not right now.” She shook her head so hard
her hair fell across her face.

He tucked it behind her ears and held her
face in his hands. “But later?”

“One game at a time, remember? Your
rules.”

“Our rules,” he reminded her.

“We both have things we need to do, and they
may not sync with each other.” She grabbed those big hands from her
face and squeezed them tightly.

“I’ll wait for you. Forever.” His intense
gaze burned into her, taking no prisoners, as it conquered every
last cell in her body.

“Brett, please don’t make promises you can’t
keep.”

“I’ll keep them.” He stared at her as if
trying to gauge her intentions, and whatever he gleaned from her
face caused him to frown. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Estie considered his words only briefly.
“I’m coming to terms with change. It’s not easy for me.”

“Change is often good.” Freeing one hand, he
wrapped a lock of her hair around a finger and held it up to his
nose. “Your hair always smells so damn good. Just like you.”

“I’ll show you damn good, Brett Gunnels.”
Seeing a way out of this nowhere conversation, Estie pushed Brett
down on the bed. “Right now getting you naked is my priority. Then
winning the Super Bowl is yours. The rest is up for discussion at a
later date but off limits for now.”

With her best wicked girl smile, she knelt
between his knees and unzipped his pants. Glancing up, she
witnessed the already glazed look in his eyes. She’d properly
distracted him from places she wasn’t ready to go to yet. If
ever.

Brett raised his hips as Estie pulled off
his pants and shorts, sliding them down his thighs, past his knees
to his ankles. She yanked off his shoes and removed all clothing
from the bottom half of his delectable body. Then she slid herself
back up his thighs and took his erection in her hand. Brett groaned
and threaded his fingers in her hair, tugging downward until her
mouth was a breath away from the velvety skin on the tip of his
penis.

She flicked her tongue across the tip, and
his entire body went as rigid as his dick. Estie smiled with
satisfaction, loving the power she had to make this man taut with
tightly controlled passion. Gently holding the base, she took him
in her mouth and sucked in a soft, sensual rhythm guaranteed to
send the man to places he’d never gone before. Or at least hadn’t
gone since the last time they’d fooled around.

She took him deeper to the back of her
throat until her gag reaction kicked in. Her head bobbed as she
slid her mouth up and down the length of his shaft until she swore
the man would implode from the tension.

“Ah, fuck, Estie. I’m gonna come. I am. I
can’t stop it.” He held her head tightly in his hands, as if she
might run away any moment. The only thing she wanted to run away
with was his heart and his passion.

“Do it. Come for me, Brett. Let me taste
you.” She licked the length of his penis and sucked on the tip,
swirling her tongue around all that velvety maleness.