Fumbled (The Girls of Beachmont #1) (12 page)

Tabor: I was hoping to
see you today

I was grinning like a
teenager at his text.

Me: Oh yeah? Why?

Tabor: Dani…I thought
you said you don’t fish.

Me: Touché

Tabor: J/K

Me: Are you flirting
with me?

Tabor: When have I NOT
flirted with you?

Me: Can I ask you a
question?

Tabor: Should I call?

Me: Okay

I answered the phone on
the first ring and found myself adjusting my clothes as if he could see me. He
made me nervous in the best possible way, and yet it terrified me.

“So what do you want to
ask me?” he said, his deep voice making me turn to mush.

“I’ve been thinking
about this dating stuff,” I admitted.

“And…”

“How does that whole
thing work out? I mean, if we’re trying to keep it secret and all, does that
just mean lots of quiet nights in, just the two of us? I mean, we can’t really
go anywhere because people know you
everywhere
,”
I admitted.

“Do they?” Tabor
challenged good-naturedly.

“Tabor, I was at the
grocery store last night and wherever I looked, you were there,” I laughed.
“How did I not notice those ads before?”

His response was so
perfect that I found it hard not to cave right then and there. “Because you
weren’t looking for JT Hunter.”

I smiled and leaned
against my headboard. What he said was the truth. Plain and simple. “I guess
you’re right.”

“I know you’re
apprehensive about whatever this could be between us, but I’m not.”

“How are you so sure?” I
asked. “What makes you think I’m worth the effort?”

“What makes you think
you’re not?” he lobbed back.

“I think I might like
you, Tabor,” I said, despite my efforts to keep the word vomit from escaping.

“Good,” he answered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,”
I said quietly, embarrassed at my earlier admission.

“Looking forward to it,”
he said. I began to hang up the phone when I heard him call my name.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Can you send me that
picture of us?”

I began laughing,
because it was like pulling teeth to get him to take it in the first place. But
I liked that he wanted it too, because when I looked at it, I couldn’t help but
smile.

“I think you like me, too,”
I teased.

“I thought that was
pretty obvious,” he answered without skipping a beat. “Goodnight, Dani.”

“Goodnight,” I said
before hanging up.

I found the image of the
two of us and sent it over, but kept staring at it with a smile on my face. I
took the opportunity to really look at him and admire his physique. It was
obvious that he worked out—hell, he was a football player. Even though
his size was intimidating, he was nothing more than a teddy bear. I closed the
image and was about to set my phone on the nightstand when it buzzed, alerting
me to a text.

Tabor: Cute couple ;)

D A N I

The entire day, all I
could think about was the evening ahead.

That and Tabor’s use of
the word “couple” to describe us. I hadn’t committed to that title, or even
dating, though I felt like I was close to caving. But those were put on the
back burner to the questions plaguing me.

Are my parents going to act weird?

What are the chances they embarrass me?

Will Tabor behave?

I knew the answer to at
least two of those questions, but the last one, I just needed to see how it
played out. I texted my mom and told her we might be a little late because I
wasn’t sure where Tabor’s house was. Since he was a famous athlete, I figured
it would have been in a gated community with armed guards and the promise to
give up your firstborn. At least that’s the way everyone made it sound.

But as I turned down his
street, I was pleasantly surprised. Modest but lovely homes lined both sides of
the street, with trees all over the place. It was almost too picturesque, with
dads playing catch with their kids in the lawn while other children ran between
yards. I smiled, remembering my own childhood when Grace and I would run wildly
all over the neighborhood.

My phone speaking directions
dragged me back to the present. “The destination is on your right. 1701
Greenbriar Avenue.”

I looked for the house
and noticed a large home set back away from the street. It was a sprawling
landscape with huge trees and modest gardens. I wondered if Tabor actually
maintained them himself, or if he had a crew. Knowing who he was, it was hard
to picture the man gardening, or pushing a lawn mower around. Not because he
didn’t seem the type to do it, but because he was larger than life in San Diego.
Celebrities don’t attend to their own personal stuff.

At least that’s what I
figured. But then again, Tabor, the athlete—
the celebrity—
had gotten dirty and changed my tire for me. So
who was I to judge?

I pulled into the long
driveway and leaned forward in my seat to take in the expanse of the home. It
was larger than the home I grew up in, but not nearly as large as I thought
people would assume he’d own.

I got out of my car and
closed the door behind me. As I made my way up the sidewalk, butterflies began
swimming in my stomach, causing me to exhale loudly to calm my nerves.

“Friends,” I muttered to
myself over and over. If I said it enough, maybe I’d believe it.

I lifted my fist to
knock on the door, only to have it open before I could even make a sound. In
front of me stood an overdressed Tabor. He took in my worn, fitted jeans, white
T-shirt, and Converse, quickly realizing his mistake.

“You better come in.” He
grinned, stepping aside to let me pass.

He was wearing dress
slacks and a button-down shirt, looking very much like he had on our date. He
was very sexy, and would be
very
out
of place dressed like that.

“Sorry,” I chuckled.
“You look nice, but yeah, a little overdressed.”

“You think?” he said
sarcastically.

“What made you think it
was something to get dressed up for?”

“I don’t know,” he
laughed, disappearing around the corner.

I stayed in the entry
until he peeked around.

“C’mere.”

I followed his path and
walked into a modern, beautiful kitchen.

“Nice digs,” I teased,
waving my hand at the state-of-the-art appliances. “Do you actually use this or
is it for looks?”

He looked around, and
when his eyes met mine he flashed me that adorable grin of his and I returned
it easily.

“When I was drafted, my
mom and Abbi flew out to help me find a place to live. Actually, I was burned
out on day one, so I gave them the reins and this is what they found.”

“You still didn’t answer
the question.” I raised a brow.

“I didn’t realize you
really wanted an answer,” he said. “But yeah, I’m actually a good cook.”

“Okay,” I said, throwing
my hands up in surrender. “I believe you.”

I looked at the time on
the oven and he followed my gaze. “I’ll just be a minute.” He walked around the
corner and called out, “Make yourself at home. There’re drinks in the fridge,
and the living room is across the hall.”

When he was gone, I
stood in the room feeling oddly comfortable in his place. I went into the
living room, stepping onto the hardwood floors, and the first thing I noticed
was how plain his walls were. Despite the few feminine touches,
hopefully done by his mom and sister
,
the place screamed “bachelor pad.” I leaned against the wide threshold, taking
it all in, when I heard him walking back.

His cargo shorts were
hung low on his hips and he was in the middle of pulling the shirt on, giving
me front row seats to the gun show. And the abs show. And the holy shit he’s
ripped show.

I swallowed thickly,
trying to avoid eye contact, but he’d already caught me looking. And if he
didn’t, he’d know by the redness in my face.

“I like your…couch,” I
said, pointing over my shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Tabor walked toward me
and I stood up straighter and raised my chin. He was close enough that I could
reach out and touch him, but far enough that I could still breathe. Just his
proximity had my pulse racing. When he stepped closer, my breath hitched and I
noticed that he clenched his jaw.

“You know…you could use,
your walls…” He stepped closer and I stammered through the rest of the
sentence. “…they’re plain.”

Tabor nodded, remaining
quiet as he stepped closer.

“Just some pictures,” I
whispered. “Or a clock.”

He lowered his face, his
lips dangerously close to finding their destination, and I was torn. Our
breaths mingled in the space between us and I felt my resolve deteriorating. In
that moment, the battle was over and I was about to give in as his breath
tickled my ear.

“So what did your
parents say?” he asked as his lips grazed my earlobe.

“About?” I mumbled.

“Us.”

His one-word answer made
my legs feel heavy and numb—not the response I expected.

“Us?” I repeated before
reality smacked me in the gut.

There is no
us
.

“I told them we’re
friends,” I answered, feeling disappointment wash over me at the words.

“Friends,” he repeated,
nodding his head. “I guess I was just hoping…” He trailed off.

“Hoping what?” I asked,
a little too eager, even though I knew the answer.

He looked down at his
watch. “Hey, we better go.”

Tabor retreated across
the hallway to the kitchen, the moment between us long gone.

Idiot! That was your chance
, I mentally scolded.

I walked to the front
door where Tabor joined me, wishing I could rewind ten minutes just to have all
of those feelings again.

“Ready?” he asked
cheerfully, as if completely unaffected by what had happened. I wasn’t able to
say anything, fearful my voice would crack with disappointment, so I nodded and
walked out the door.

***

“Fair warning, my
parents might freak out,” I told him as we turned down the street. “I told them
to act like you were any other guy, but I apologize in advance if my dad cries.
He’s a big fan.”

“Are you sure it’s okay
that I’m here?” He smirked.

“I think Dad would
disown me if I didn’t bring you.” I grinned. “Besides, you’re old news.”

Despite the pushes from
my friends and family, I was still not prepared to take the leap with Tabor.
And the almost-kiss would go down as one of my regrets. I’d kissed him already.
I knew what I was missing. He hadn’t pushed too hard since I’d said the dreaded
F-word, and that both relieved and disappointed me.

Tabor insisted on
bringing a bottle of wine, even though it wasn’t necessary. There was no
arguing with him, so I let it go. We met at the front of my car and walked the
short distance to the front door, which Mom opened before we had a chance to
knock.

“You’re finally here,”
Mom gushed, waving us inside.

“Mom, Dad, this is
Tabor,” I said, stepping aside.

“Tabor, this is Tessa
and Neil—my parents. And Grace is probably somewhere inside with Trevor
and my niece, Cleo.”

I had begged Grace to
play it cool and not make a big deal about Tabor, but I saw her trying too hard
sitting on the couch with Trevor next to her. Her leg was bouncing nervously
and her toothy smile made her look creepy. Still beautiful, but creepy
nonetheless.

“It’s a pleasure to meet
you,” Tabor smiled, shaking my parents’ hands. “Oh, I brought this for you.”

He handed Mom the bottle
of wine and she looked from Tabor to me with an impassive mask on her face.

“Dani, didn’t you tell
him that we don’t drink in this house?”

I bit my lip, watching
his reaction to the news, as if he’d just been told he smelled like shit. He
looked down at me and Mom and I both burst into laughter.

“I’m just kidding.”

Tabor’s nervous laugh
was the sweetest thing I’d heard all day, but his unease vanished quickly as he
followed my dad inside.

“Ignore her,” he scolded
playfully. “She thinks she’s funny.”

“Dani laughed,” Mom
defended.

“You should have seen
the look on your face,” I said behind Tabor.

“Are you sure you want
to be friends with this one?” Dad challenged, nudging his thumb in my
direction.

Tabor looked over his
shoulder, his eyes locking with mine. “No sir, I don’t. But I’m not going
anywhere.”

I felt lightheaded at
his words, my stomach flipping in a million different directions. He winked and
turned around to follow my dad back into the living room, leaving me standing
still. Mom walked past me, bumping my shoulder on her way, acknowledging the
moment.

***

The initial awe of JT
Hunter wore off after about an hour of “what’s so-and-so like,” followed up by
a short round of “have you met this guy?” It was pretty impressive to watch
Tabor handle the questions and not miss a beat. He was charming and sweet, and
everyone quickly realized what I already had: he was just a really great guy.

My brother-in-law Trevor
worked as a realtor and discussed the housing market, something that seemed to
interest Tabor. The three men congregated around the grill, drinking beer and
laughing at whatever lame jokes my dad managed to tell. Dad was cooking the
burgers while Mom and Grace chatted inside.

And where was I? I was a
floater.

I stayed with my niece,
Cleo, who needed constant supervision. But my ears were alert, waiting for
anything that might give me some insight into Tabor’s life. I’m sure he would
have told me anything I asked, but I was looking for some imperfection to justify
my friend logic.

“Jeez, Dani,” Grace
gushed, interrupting my inspection of Tabor. “The way he looks at you…damn.
It’s no secret he likes you.”

“No—especially
since he told me so himself,” I said to a squealing Grace.

“Then what are you
waiting for?”

“Gracie, I don’t know
what to do. I told him that I’m not ready for his fandom.”

“Then throw him back and
let some other lucky girl have a chance at catching him,” she teased. But when
she saw the look on my face she quieted her voice. “Holy shit, you
do
like him—I mean, like-like him,
and you want to date him. Don’t you?”

“He’s so sweet and
funny. I like talking to him and spending time with him,” I admitted.

“Then you should tell
him that, sweetie,” Mom said, joining the conversation.

“I just need a little
time,” I said truthfully.

Mom wrapped me in a hug
and kissed my temple. “What happened to my daughter who isn’t scared of
anything? Have you seen her?”

“I’m right here, Mom,”
Grace waved. “But sadly, I’m already taken.”

“You wish,” I muttered.

“Then go get your man,”
Grace challenged.

I narrowed my eyes and
wrinkled my nose before turning my back and heading outside to join my company.
Dad and Trevor walked past me with the platter of burgers as they went inside.
Cleo came running out the door with her doll, throwing herself against my leg
while Tabor looked on. I’d never met anyone famous and wondered if they were
all as down to earth as he was, or was he some sort of anomaly. It’s
funny—as a kid, you imagine your heroes being larger than life, and
though Tabor wasn’t a hero of mine in the traditional sense, he was still
larger than life.

“How old is she?” he
asked, walking over and squatting in front of Cleo.