Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (11 page)

“Come on, Uncle Wyatt,” Annie pleaded, even
after her brother elbowed her to stop. “Tell us about the olden
days.”

Darcie’s nerves crackled, and before she
knew it,
she
was talking. “Do you mind if I give it a try?
I’m not a Bourne, but I know a story about one.”

Bea gave her a grateful smile. “We’d love
that, Darcie.”

“Is it about Uncle Wyatt?” Joe asked, his
tone so guarded she had the feeling he was warning her to desist
before it was too late.

“I’m afraid so,” she said with a laugh.

The Bournes laughed too.

Taking a deep breath, she sent a playful
glance at Wyatt, ignored the steely-gray stop sign on his face, and
began. “As some of you know, Wyatt and I met on an airplane. We
were seated next to each other in first class for a cross-country
flight. Him on the aisle, me at the window. We chatted for a bit,
and it was fun, but he’s a fairly private person so he eventually
went back to his reading. Which was for the best, since I was
flying to LA for an important business party and didn’t want to
have circles under my eyes. So I curled up, hoping to get some
rest. Still, I knew I couldn’t actually sleep. Because I just can’t
sleep in public. Not ever. I have some irrational fear that
strangers are looking at me. Silly, right?” She flashed a sheepish
smile. “It put me at a disadvantage in law school because all the
other students could hide in corners of the law library and get a
quick nap, but I just couldn’t. Even for slumber parties when I was
a kid, I just brought a book and a flashlight and read all night.
But airplanes and trains have always been the worst. All those
strangers going up and down the aisles? Ugh.”

She could see she was confusing them, so she
explained. “So there I was, curled up in the window seat, hoping to
rest my eyes. Then the next thing I knew, Wyatt was waking me up.
Telling me we were landing.” Her voice grew unexpectedly husky.
“Somehow I had actually fallen asleep for five straight hours. In
public.
For the first time in my life. It took me a while to
figure it out. Then I realized it was Wyatt. Sitting there beside
me. So formidable, no one walking down the aisle would
dare
look at me. And the coolest part was, I knew Wyatt wouldn’t stare
at me either. He’s so protective of his own privacy, I knew he’d
respect mine too. So somehow, subconsciously, I felt safe enough to
relax.”

The Bournes stared at her as though
mesmerized, so she finished with a wistful, “That’s my Wyatt Bourne
story. Ta-da.”

“Wow,” Gail said with a sigh.

“He’s so much like our Matthew,” Bea
insisted tearfully. “So protective. Using his strength the way God
intended him to use it. Just like his father.”

“It’s true,” Jenny said, dabbing at her
eyes. “Matt was our baby brother, but if anyone dared say or do
anything to us—well, they were sorry fast. Remember, Mary?
Ann?”

The two sisters nodded. Then Mary echoed her
mother, saying, “You remind me so much of him, Wyatt.”

Darcie didn’t have to look at him to know
this was too much. And so, when he stood up and announced, “I’d
better get Darcie home. She has a big day tomorrow,” she jumped up
too, nodding her agreement and admitting, “I need to impress Bam
Bannerman in Portland at ten a.m. sharp. Wish me luck.”

Her tote bag hung on a hook near the door,
and she was tempted to make a run for it, since saying good-bye to
dozens of Bournes seemed anti-climactic.

Still, when her date strode over to his
grand-uncle, she followed, hoping to catch another glimpse of the
other
Wyatt. The one with the heart.

“Hey, Tony,” Wyatt murmured, shaking the
man’s frail shoulder to rouse him from a half-asleep state. “We’re
heading out. Don’t forget to watch the Dodgers play the Yankees. It
should be sweet.”

“You’re leaving?” Tony murmured. “So
soon?”

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

The old man sighed. “You look like your
father.”

“You look like him too,” Wyatt said, his
voice choked with emotion. “Take your pills, okay? Don’t fight
Jenny on that anymore.”

“They taste like metal.”

“Have ’em with a beer,” Wyatt said
firmly.

To Darcie’s delight, Tony laughed.

“Okay, then. See you, buddy.” Wyatt patted
his arm then backed away.

Darcie touched her date’s shoulder. “I want
to say good-bye too. Okay?”

When Wyatt nodded, she stepped up to Tony
and took his hand. “Mr. Bourne? Thanks so much for having me. I had
a great time.”

He eyed her curiously. “Have we met?”

“I’m Wyatt’s friend,” she reminded him,
tempted to call herself “the Reyes girl” just to get through to
him.

But the old patriarch was full of surprises,
saying with a smile, “The football girl who never heard of the
Surgeon?”

Darcie rolled her eyes gleefully. “I’ll
never live it down.”

Tony chuckled. Then he seemed to glaze over,
prompting Wyatt to tug at Darcie’s arm and mutter, “We’re out of
here.”

“Charming,” she said with another eye roll,
but she willingly allowed him to propel her past the Bournes,
murmuring good-bye without breaking stride, knowing he was at the
end of his rope.

On the porch, Wyatt gave Bea a hug, then
hurried off toward the car without bothering with the three aunts
who had assembled there like the judges on a three-panel court.

Darcie wasn’t so lucky. Instead, Jenny
corralled her before she could get to the steps. Then she touched
Darcie’s heart by saying, “Thank you for telling that story. It was
just what we needed.”

Darcie looked her straight in the eye. “Your
nephew is a great guy.”

“I thought he paid you to come here today,
but after that . . .” Jenny sighed. “It brought back
memories for all of us.”

“I’d better go. Big day tomorrow,” she added
dutifully.

“And you’ll see Wyatt again?”

“Absolutely,” she said, ignoring the fine
print that Wyatt
had
to see her again, whether he wanted to
or not, since he owed her three football lessons

“Take care of him.”

Darcie wasn’t sure what to say to that, but
luckily, Wyatt shouted her name from the car, so she told Jenny
with a grin, “If I don’t kill him first.” Then she hurried to join
him.

He held the passenger door open and herded
her into her seat while waving to the throng that had gathered on
the porch. Then he came around to his side, got into the car, and
burned rubber getting them away from the house.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Which part?”

He sent her a doleful look. “What did my
aunt say to you? There at the end?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. She thought you
paid me to come with you. Until I told that adorable story. So
you’re welcome.”

To her relief, he chuckled. “Yeah, that was
a helluva save. How did you come up with it?”

“Pardon?” She took a moment to recline her
seat, then admitted, “It was true, Wyatt. Just don’t let it go to
your head.”

After a moment of silence he admitted, “You
were cool with Uncle Tony. With all of them, actually. So
thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, he drove
toward home, again in silence, and she wondered if he thought this
fake date had ended.

What a burn.

“So?” she asked with a sniff. “Is the
debrief officially over?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you want to know what your other
relatives said about you?”

“Not really.”

“Fine.”

They drove for a few more minutes, and then
as they reached the freeway he said teasingly, “Go ahead.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re dying to tell me what they said,
right?”

Darcie bit back a smile. “I’m thinking about
your niece Gail. She thinks she bores you.”

He seemed honestly shocked. “She said
that?”

Darcie nodded. “She said you can relate to
Danny and Joe because of sports. But not to her.”

“What did
you
say?”

“I told her you aren’t bored. You’re
terrified. Like we all are. Because she’s a teenage girl, the most
feared species on the planet.”

Visibly relaxing, he said, “That’s actually
true. I have no idea what to say to her. Or Annie for that
matter.”

“Next time, just ask them about school. Then
sit back and listen. They’ll have a litany of gripes, believe
me.”

He seemed impressed, but didn’t say anything
more.

So Darcie tried again. “Did she tell you she
gave half of the money from her birthday check to an animal rescue
shelter?”

He turned to look at her, clearly surprised
again. “No, she didn’t mention it. That’s impressive.”

“I agree. She volunteers there
apparently.”

Without missing a beat, he asked, “Is there
something I should be doing?”

“No,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.
“You’re doing fine.” To her surprise, she believed it. His family
clearly loved the five-minute drills, the gift cards, and the
clueless-uncle routine. And even if he
had
brought a paid
date to an anniversary party? They’d get a kick out of that
too.

More silence ensued, which was fine with
her, since she needed to process the last three hours. So much
love, which could be expected when multiple generations gathered.
But so much loss too. Judgments and jealousies, all minor, all
endearing.

And that kiss.

Whatever else this guy did wrong, he
definitely did that right.

Then he said in a casual tone, “Talk to me
about these football lessons. Any reason we can’t do them by
phone?”

Surprised, then hurt, and then angry with
herself for being wounded so easily, she insisted, “I need to see
your face. To see if you’re being sarcastic or just teasing. I
can’t do that over the phone.”

When he winced, she thought he might
actually apologize. But instead he demanded, “Do you think my
family feels that way? That I’m sarcastic?”

“No. You’re very respectful with them.”

“Good.”

She pretended to glare. “So it’s okay that
you’re sarcastic to
me?”

His eyes twinkled. “A guy has to protect
himself, doesn’t he? Especially with women like you.”

She had no idea what he meant by that. Women
like her? Also known as lawyers? Or was he referring to the fact
she had been a little too chummy during the kiss?

Guilty as charged,
she decided in
frustration. She was so hot for this guy, even the Bourne toddler
must have noticed it.

So why deny it?

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” she
asked playfully.

“Hardly.” His tone softened. “You’ll make a
good agent someday.”

“I’m a good agent already.”

He laughed, then returned his attention to
the road.

She wanted to keep up the banter—or at least
pin down the details about the football lessons—but she reminded
herself the party had been stressful for him and he too needed to
process it. If only he would let her help. The first advice she
would give him? Putting up barriers the way he did created a
self-fulfilling prophecy.

Why didn’t he get that?

Because there were all those years when he
lived far away. His dad was in the service. His mom wasn’t a Bourne
fan. Then his dad died and the link was a source of pain. Maybe he
never got past it.

It made a certain amount of sense. From the
outside looking in, Darcie could wallow in the beauty of Bea’s
adoration of Matthew Bourne. Even Tony, with his fading memory, was
a testament to the nephew who had become a son to him. So was Aunt
Jenny, remembering her impish little brother.

What could be better?

But for Wyatt, it must be so different. He
had missed the actual bonding, but wasn’t an outsider either. So he
did his best to participate while also keeping his distance,
geographically and emotionally.

They still had a long drive ahead of them,
and she knew she should try to sleep. But there was always the
chance he’d say something, and she had an odd craving to continue
the dialogue, whether teasing, sarcastic, or just football. If she
hoped to get to know him better, they
had
to talk.

And kiss. A
lot.

Or maybe he was the type who wanted to go
straight to bed. She usually frowned on that, but for him she might
make an exception because his strong jaw and silent treatment were
driving her crazy. She even tortured herself by combing back
through their interactions on the plane, looking for signs he felt
the same way.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t given her an actual
compliment in all that ridicule.

Find another career? Did you get the job
because you’re Patrick Murphy’s girlfriend?

And the ever-popular earbud routine.

Bottom line? He had ignored her, made fun of
her, and then ditched her at the first opportunity. She even
suspected he had known she’d be at the concussion awareness gala,
and had intentionally avoided the need to touch base with her
there.

Hopefully, things had changed. She had been
an asset at the party except for a few miscues. And she hadn’t been
the only person involved in that kiss. He could have phoned it
in—like the football lessons—but instead, he had kissed the hell
out of her.

And then walked away like nothing
happened
.
Doesn’t that tell you something?

He was a confusing guy, no doubt about it.
But there was something between them. Not romance, or at least not
exactly. And definitely not business. It didn’t fall into a neat
category. Mysterious? Edgy? Obnoxiously hot?

Or just a figment of her imagination? That
would be embarrassing. Not that it mattered. Because she had to
find out, hopefully when she invited him in for coffee.

Chapter Four

By the time he pulled up in front of her
house, she felt discouraged, mostly because he had barely spoken
another word to her, the exception being when he switched the radio
on, chose a sports interview show, then told her, “This guy’s
usually decent. Maybe you’ll pick up some pointers.”