Melting Into You Page 10
Practice went well. Hunter was looser and played with heart. Robbie Dalton joined Alec on the sideline watching the scrimmage, his dog Avery settling between them. Alec absently dropped a hand to the dog’s head for a pat, never taking his eyes off Hunter.
Dalt stared out at the field. “Whatever you’ve been doing with Hunter, keep it up. He’s a different player out there today.”
Dalt and Logan were the closest things Alec had to real friends. Yet it had been a long time since he’d confided in anyone. His words flowed haltingly. “Dude … I think Hunter’s situation is worse than we thought.”
“What’s going on?” Dalt crossed his arms over his chest, focusing his laser attention on Alec. “And does the fact you look like you’ve been in a bar fight have anything to do with Hunter?”
Alec fingered the road rash on his left cheek. “His brother Will tackled me. Too bad that kid never got into football. He’d have been an outstanding linebacker.”
“Football could’ve have saved Will Galloway. Now I’m not so sure anything can save him.” Dalt’s voice was at once harsh and understanding. His childhood had been a nightmare, and he credited football—particularly his football coach—for showing him a way out. It was something he shared and preached to every incoming class.
“Hunter’s been studying and maybe even sleeping out in the woods to avoid going home. Some middle-aged white druggie named Bone-man is living at the Galloways’. Last night I took Hunter to Lilliana Hancock’s, and she put him up.”
Dalt’s blue eyes narrowed and he muttered a curse. “Can Lilliana put Hunter up for a few more nights?”
“Not sure.”
“If you have a favor to call in with her, do it.”
A favor? Obviously, Logan hadn’t spilled about Alec and Lilliana’s afternoon escapade. He had no doubt Lilliana would take Hunter in without him having to beg, but the box of tile in his truck might smooth the way.
Dalt whistled and gestured Logan over. Logan threw his arms over both of their shoulders. “What can I do you for, gentlemen?”
“You ever heard of some white druggie named Bone-man?”
“Can’t say that I have, although he sounds absolutely charming.” Logan’s mouth twisted into his customary, good-natured smile.
“He’s living with the Galloways. Could you find out what kind of shit he’s involved in?”
“Sure thing.” A frown replaced Logan’s smile, and he dropped to his heels to give Avery a good rub behind the ears. The three of them watched Hunter scramble out of the pocket and throw a perfect downfield pass on the run.
“Two more college recruiters contacted me this week. Big-time programs.” Dalt’s voice rumbled, full of worry. “If Will’s lifestyle bleeds into Hunter’s, no one will touch him. This is not about the Falcons making the playoffs, this is about that kid having a decent life.”
Alec shot Dalt a wry half smile. “But if we make the playoffs on the strength of his arm?”
Dalt’s smile changed the entire character of his face, making him look less intimidating. “I wouldn’t complain.” He clapped Alec on the back. “Let me know if I can help.”
The scrimmage wrapped up, and after Alec had gathered his things, he loitered at his truck in a side lot, organizing various boxes of building supplies and tools as a cover to wait for Hunter.
Hunter emerged from the locker room with a scrum of other players. He laughed and strutted, the king of the team, the leader, admired by everyone. Alec had been that kid once. It only took one hit on the field or off for everything to evaporate.
Everyone separated and moved toward their cars. Hunter hung back. His beat-up car wasn’t in the lot, but he didn’t ask anyone for a ride. Instead, he hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and turned toward a shortcut between the school and the field. Mill Town was a good three-mile walk from the stadium.
The kid might not be getting enough food or sleep, but he had pride to spare. Getting him to accept charity would be difficult. Alec ran a finger over the jagged edge of a piece of tile.
Will Galloway’s jacked-up brown sedan pulled into the main lot. Hunter pivoted back around. A bass beat rattled the contents of Alec’s truck, the clanging disharmony adding to the tension thickening the air.
The window rolled down. The music sounded even louder before diminishing to an echo of itself. A man stuck his head out the window and banged his fist on the door. Bone-man. “Yo, Hunter. Let’s go.”
Hunter’s gaze darted between the car and the grassy shortcut. Alec didn’t give Hunter a chance to decide his fate.
He strode into the scene and mimicked Bone-man’s authoritative voice, holding up the piece of tile. “Yo, Hunter, don’t forget you agreed to help retile Miss Lilliana’s guest bath.”
Confusion wrinkled Hunter’s brow, and he picked at an eyebrow. Alec tensed. A corner of the tile broke under the tight grip of his fingers and fell into the grass.
Finally, Hunter bent over to see inside the brown car. “I’ll catch you guys later. I have to make some money to get my car fixed.”
Will Galloway’s deep voice came from the car. The windows had been blacked out and Alec couldn’t see him. “I’ll pay to fix your car, bro.”
“No!” Hunter’s exclamation was loud and forceful. His voice dropped to normal levels and a smile came to his face. After seeing Hunter’s true smile earlier, Alec could tell this one wasn’t one of happiness but appeasement. “Thanks, but it’s my responsibility. Coach will give me a ride.”
Hunter shot a questioning look toward Alec. He nodded.
Bone-man and Will had a discussion too quiet to hear. Finally, Bone-man leaned back out the window and pointed a finger, his tone somewhere between threatening and fatherly. “Don’t stay out too late, Hunter.”
Hunter didn’t answer, but shook his head as his brother and Bone-man drove off, the bass music pumping again. The car was out of sight before it was out of earshot. Hunter scuffed his sneaker at a clump of grass, his face down. “Thanks for the save. I’ll catch you later.”
Before Hunter got more than two steps away, Alec called out. “Hold up. That wasn’t an excuse. You’re coming with me, and we’re retiling Lilliana’s horrible pink guest bathroom.”
Hunter turned back around, one hand tight around the strap of his backpack, the other picking at his eyebrow again. “You were serious?”
Hunter’s car being broken gave Alec the leverage he needed. “Yep. I was going to pay you, but how about this instead. I’ll get Jeb to fix your car and you can work at Lilliana’s to pay me back.”
Hunter dropped his hand from his maligned, sparse eyebrow and shifted his backpack around. “I don’t know how to tile.”
“I’ll teach you. Trust me, it’s not as hard as calculus.”
Hunter looked dumbfounded, shifting on his size-thirteen shoes.
“Well, come on then.” Alec nudged his chin toward his truck and walked to the driver’s side, hoping like hell Hunter was on his heels.
Two seconds after Alec slid behind the wheel, Hunter opened the passenger door and plopped onto the seat. An eagerness belying his unaffected slouch threaded Hunter’s words. “Do you think Miss Lilliana will cook for us again?”
“She’s not exactly expecting us.”
“Ah, shit, Coach. Did you not call her today?”
“Why would I?” Alec cranked the engine.
“Dude, I’m discreet, not blind. You were totally sneaking out of her room this morning.”
What Hunter didn’t know was that they’d spent the night fully clothed and cuddling. Cuddling for Christ sake, and even more, he hadn’t wanted to leave. But maybe he should have called.
“How about we pick up pizzas and surprise her?” Alec gripped the steering wheel, his palms slipping along the leather. Damn, he wished he could be a little more confident as to their reception.
Hunter shrugged and grinned, his enjoyment of Alec’s predicament obvious. After picking up two larges with everything—the girl behind the
counter assured her it was Lilliana’s favorite—they rolled to a stop in front of her house ten minutes after five. Hunter grabbed the pizzas, and Alec grabbed the box of tile.
He rang the doorbell and chewed his lip, waiting. Her battered SUV was parked on the side in its usual spot. He rang again. A shadow passed on the other side of the stained glass before the door swung wide.
“Hello there.” Her hand slid up the edge of the door making her oversized T-shirt list off her shoulder, her black braid partially obscuring the strap of a pink bra. Her jeans were ripped at both knees. A variety of paint colors streaked across the thighs in finger patterns, and a smudge of red decorated her cheek like war paint.
A small smile offset the crinkle at her nose. Her gaze darted between the two of them. “Is it dinnertime already?”
Hunter held out the boxes like an offering. She took both and headed toward the kitchen. Alec and Hunter exchanged glances and stepped inside. Alec set the box of tile inside the door and followed her into the kitchen.
She dropped the pizza boxes in the middle of the kitchen table, flipped the top one open, and fist-pumped the air. “Yes. Everything. How did you know?”
He smiled, her simple happiness contagious. “I asked the girl behind the counter.”
She grabbed a slice, the cheese stringy. Her smile was teasing and sweet and made his stomach flip. “I get around, haven’t you heard? Chinese delivery boys, pizza girls. What do you fellas want to drink? I’ve got beer, water, tea, or milk.”
“Milk, please,” Hunter said.
“I’ll take a beer.” Alec motioned Hunter over to the table, both of them grabbing a slice.
Lilliana set down a beer, an iced-tea, and a mason jar with milk licking the brim. Hunter killed half the milk and reached for a second slice before Alec was halfway through his first. They ate in silence.
“You got homework, Hunter?” Alec asked after Hunter pushed back from the table.
“Calculus problems and a story to read for English.”
“You can use the desk in my office if you want.” Lilliana pointed to the mudroom, and Hunter gathered his backpack, retreating.
Lilliana shifted toward Alec. “What do I owe you for the pizza?”
“Nothing. Consider it a bribe.”
“For what?”
He glanced over at Hunter who was pulling out books and paper at her desk. Alec motioned with his head and walked into the parlor, grabbing the tile along the way. She followed.
“Hunter and I will redo your guest bathroom. I’ll get the wiring up to code and teach Hunter how to tile.” Alec turned a jagged piece of tan-speckled tile in his hands. “I brought some leftovers from a different job to see if you liked the colors.”
She took the tile from him, their fingers brushing, hers shaded with paint remnants that had defied her washing. “It’s lovely, but I looked at this tile, and it’s out of my price range.” The corner of her mouth pulled back with her sigh, and she handed it back to him.
“I can get it wholesale. Don’t worry about that.” Even wholesale the tile would probably be out of her range, but she didn’t need to know that since he planned to pay for it anyway. Somehow that made asking for help easier. Help wasn’t something he was used to needing, much less asking for. He’d worked hard the last few years to make sure he was a hundred percent self-sufficient—monetarily, physically, emotionally.
“Look, Alec, if this is a guilt thing because of”—she flicked a finger between them— “then please don’t.”
Alec’s worries for Hunter had superseded his own, but her reminder that his problem hadn’t disappeared and might even be growing by the day made the pizza burn back up his throat. “It’s not … that. I need to keep Hunter occupied and out of trouble. He has enormous potential on the field and could get a major scholarship, but only if he stays out of his brother’s trouble.”
“I know how good he is. I come to all the home games.”
“You do?” The traditional alpha-male pomp of Southern high school football didn’t mesh with her carefree, bohemian artist vibe.
“There’s not much else to do on a Friday night. The noise from the stadium carries to the house. Anyway, I’ve always liked football. Hunter reminds me of your playing days at Alabama.”
“You saw me play in college?”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth worked but no sound came out.
“But you went to school up north, right?”
Her mouth opened and closed, her gaze dropping to the tile in his hands. “I’ll need a pretty steep discount on that tile. That bathroom is small but my forbearers slapped pink tile on anything standing still.”
He couldn’t pinpoint his niggling suspicion. Was she hiding something? Before he could formulate a question, Hunter shuffled into the room, tucking his phone into his back pocket and rubbing a palm down the front of his jeans. His voice cracked from unsure adolescent into prideful grown-up. “Look, I’m not a charity case. I don’t want—”
Lilliana barked a laugh. “You’ve seen the bathroom you’ll be working on. Now, tell me who’s the charity case around here? If you and Alec don’t help me”—she threw her hands up— “I won’t ever get this B&B off the ground. And, if that doesn’t happen, I’ll probably have to sell. Not only will I never be able to show my face at another family reunion, I’ll probably be excommunicated from the Falcon First Baptist Church.”
Hunter’s shoulders relaxed. “Coach and I won’t let that happen, Miss Lilliana. We’ll get started tonight, right Coach?”
Alec wanted to pull Lilliana into his arms for a hug for many reasons, but the biggest right now was making Hunter truly believe he was the one doing her a favor.
She continued. “Of course, I’ll pay you. You can come on over after football practice and I can feed you while you work on your schoolwork. Then, in the evenings, you can chip away at my pink-tiled nightmare. What’s the going rate for subcontractors these days, Alec?”
She flipped her braid off her shoulder and directed flirty side-eyes toward him. Although, he suspected she wasn’t trying to be flirty. Her almond-shaped sloe-eyes were naturally sexy and come-hither. The slash of red paint on her cheek only added to her exotic appeal.
Lilliana cleared her throat and stared at him expectantly.
What the hell had they been discussing?
Chapter 9
Hunter’s phone rang. Lilliana switched her attention from slack-jawed, dead-sexy Alec to suddenly tense, stressed-out Hunter. The undercurrents the two men were putting out were starkly opposite.
After glancing at the screen, Hunter silenced the ringer and slid the phone back into his pocket.
Lilliana glanced back at Alec. Blank emotionlessness had replaced his I-want-to-sex-you-up expression. Maybe she’d imagined it. She shifted. Nope, her still-tingling lady parts had not misread the signals.
“I’m ready to get to work if you are, Coach.” Grim determination underlay Hunter’s words. Alec nodded, mumbled something about tools, and led Hunter out the door.
Alec returned with a clanging toolbox while Hunter palmed a sledgehammer and grinned at her like a kid with a new toy. She retreated to the kitchen for another slice of pizza to cover the fact tears stung her eyes. Alec had morphed from a hated one-night stand to a layered, caring, sexy man, and she wasn’t sure how to process the abrupt shift.
The destruction of her bathroom went on for two hours. The pounding made it difficult to concentrate on her book, and she required silence for painting. She was into the fine brushwork on the portrait, and any jostle could prove disastrous.
Around nine thirty, she tiptoed up the stairs and into the guest room to check their progress. A tarp covered the floor, catching the larger pieces of crumbled pink tile, but a hazy pink fog of dust hung in the small room. Hunter and Alec had on masks. The space looked even smaller with their bulk. They’d removed a majority of the tile, revealing discolored, pocked sheetrock.
She knocked on the doorjamb, waving her hand in
front of her face. “It’s getting late, gentleman. Hunter has school and you both have a game tomorrow night. You want to crash in here, Hunter?”
Hunter pulled the mask to hang around his neck, glancing at the bed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’d better not. Will wants me home tonight.”
Alec was staring at Hunter, his eyes crinkled, obviously worried, but he nodded nonetheless. “How about you plan on working with me Saturday morning. That okay, Lilliana?”
“Yep. If you get here before nine, I’ll even cook you breakfast.”
Hunter’s smile erased a portion of the tension from his face. “Bacon?”
“Of course,” she said as if he were crazy for even asking. She saw them out the door. Alec stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to look over his shoulder.
“I’ll swing back by and haul the old tile out to the truck if you’ll still be up.”
“Sure.” She bobbed her head as if being alone with him was no big deal.
Once his truck rumbled off, she sprinted to her room and took a quick shower, scrubbing at the red paint on her cheek and reducing it to something that resembled overzealously applied blush. A blast of the hairdryer left her hair in damp waves down her back. Standing in white cotton panties and bra, she riffled through her closet.
He would expect casual attire, not a sequined cocktail dress or a lace teddy. She settled on yoga pants and a T-shirt. A knock sounded on the door, followed by his voice as he let himself in. “Lilliana.”
“Up here.” She quickstepped to the top of the stairs. He didn’t say a word, but his gaze travelled from her feet to her face on his climb. He stopped a couple of steps down, leaving them face-to-face. Something broke the stoniness of his expression, maybe appreciation, maybe lust, maybe simple friendship.
His mouth parted and his tongue darted along his bottom lip. She wet her lips in response. His gaze dropped to her mouth and then lower. Instead of pulling at her T-shirt, she forced her hands to stay down. The Alec in front of her wasn’t the same one from college. He hadn’t run away or blabbed all over town. He was here, so close she could lean forward and kiss him without even craning her neck. She swayed, like a pendulum gaining momentum.