The Way We Touch: or Wrangling the Wide Receiver (The Bradford Boys)
The Way We Touch: Chapter 14

“He’s Number 12.” I lean over the iPad looking at the online store for a jersey with Logan’s number on it. “Look, it even has his name!”

“I can’t believe you’re just discovering this.” Craig frowns standing beside me. “They’re all over the stadiums during the games. You really never watch any of them?”

Pain twists in my stomach, and I shake my head. “I still wouldn’t watch them, but it means a lot to him.”

“You don’t like long distance. You don’t like watching football…” He’s counting on his fingers.

“Correction, I’m afraid to watch the men I love play football.” I rub my palms up and down my arms. “I don’t want to see them hurt. And long distance just sucks any way you cut it. But a lot of people do it. What if he was in the military?”

“I suppose.” My friend exhales heavily. “He’d be in scarier situations, and you wouldn’t have the option of visiting him or seeing him on TV.”

“You’re right. That would be worse.” I play with a thread on my sweater.

My bestie straightens, reaching for my hand. “The time will pass so fast. You’ll be teaching and running the restaurant, and he’ll be playing every week and practicing. Hell, you’ll blink, and it will be February.”

“I hope so.”

I’ve never been in this situation, where the thrill of new love twists painfully with the aching dread of separation.

Last night, I slept in his bed, not that we did much sleeping. After our declarations on the beach, he told me how all of my brothers and Craig and Thomas had pretty much threatened his life if he hurt me. It was sweet, and it made me laugh.

It also made me realize I’m a grown woman, and I can sleep with whomever I want in my own house. When I opened my eyes this morning, two strong arms were wrapped tightly around my waist. My head was tucked beneath his chin, and I’d never felt so cherished.

When I had to get up to get ready for work, he playfully wouldn’t let me go. He kissed the top of my shoulder, and it was a shock of joy all the way to my stomach.

I thought about how rigid I used to be. I thought if I made the rule never to date a football player, I’d never be in danger of falling in love with one.

It’s too soon to talk about love. We’re only dating, but it’s there, just waiting to consume me. I can’t. We need to take it slow. We need to get to know each other better, despite all the promises. I will be smart.

“I’ve never even googled him.” I laugh, taking out my phone. “I don’t even follow him on social media!”

“Don’t.” Craig is at my side, eyes wide.

I frown up at him. “Why not? It’s fun.”

Opening my Instagram app, I tap in Logan’s name and navigate over to his profile. I hit the Follow button as soon as I’m there, then I begin to scroll. Image after image of him and different women. One is a statuesque blonde in a shimmering dress. In fact, almost all of them are tall blondes. They’re all so thin, they could be dancers. I spot one brunette like a fly in the buttermilk. She’s wearing a chambray shirt tied at her waist and pantyhose for pants. An inch of light is between her thighs.

“So many models…” I try to laugh, but even I can hear it’s forced. “Oh, he dated Natalia van Norse, the influencer. All the way up to… now.”

“He’s been here a month, so it couldn’t be now.”

My neck is hot, and I wish I had never started down this silly path. “You’re right! It’s really none of my business.”

I put my phone facedown on the metal work table, and I feel Craig’s eyes on me. I also hear a shrill, small voice echoing through the dining hall.

“Aunt Deedee!” Kimmie yells. “Where are you? Aunt Deedaaay!”

I try to forget what I’ve just seen, but it’s too late.

Looking up, I see Logan walking through the kitchen door with my niece riding on his back. His dark hair is messy, and his straight white smile seems to glow. He’s in faded jeans and a gray T-shirt that stretches attractively across his muscular chest, and his muscles flex as he holds Kimmie behind his back. Dammit, he’s so hot, and I’m sure my poker face is not working for me.

“Lightning McQueen got me ice cream, then he said we had to come see you before you get too busy.” She tilts her little head to the side, speaking right in his face. “Are you going to marry my Aunt Deedee, Mr. Lightning?”

Logan’s eyes are on me, and his brow quirks at my expression. “I’m not sure she’ll have me.” He sits Kimmie on the counter and walks to where I’m standing trying to get myself together. “What’s that face about?”

“She looked at your Instagram,” Craig answers before I can play it off or even say a word.

I cut my eyes at him, but Logan only laughs. “Oh, man. What have they posted now? I had to pass that account to a handler. The online gamblers were pissing me off⁠—”

“Models.” Craig continues. “Lots and lots of models. Sooo many models…”

“Will you stop?” I widen my eyes at him.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Honesty is imperative in relationships, especially long-distance ones, and if I’m going to root for you two, I’m going to sing like a stool pigeon.”

“Do stool pigeons sing?” I snip at him. “I thought they just blabbed their big mouths.”

“What’s a stool pigeon?” Kimmie’s little nose wrinkles, and Craig grabs her by the waist.

“It’s a bird. Now come with me, big ears. We’re going to the playground.”

“My ears aren’t big!” She shouts as he picks her up. “Your ears are big!”

“Not as big as your mouth.” He tickles her waist, and she squeals louder.

“Aunt Deedee said you have a big mouth,” she argues.

I wince, looking up at Logan, who is studying my expression. His lips tighten, and he closes the space between us, standing directly in front of me and caging me in with both hands on the metal counter. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”

“Nothing!” My voice is too high, and my stomach is churning.

“Somehow I’m not convinced.” He dips his chin to replace my eyes.

I turn to the side, but there’s no escaping his strong arms. “It just… it looks like you have a type is all.” And I’m not it, I don’t say out loud.

“I haven’t looked at that account in a year, but I get invited to a lot of events that require a date. I don’t remember half of who I take to them.”

“Natalia van Norse is in a lot of the photos all the way up to now.” I hate that I sound like a jealous girlfriend. Waving my hand, I duck under his arm and walk around so the counter is between us. “You know what? This is silly. It’s not like we didn’t both have lives before you came here.”

“It’s true. I still haven’t met that golfer.”

“Hopefully, you never will.”

He walks around the counter to where I stand. “Look at me, Dylan. I don’t give a shit about Natalia van Norse. She was in Europe all summer, and the last night we had dinner, she proposed a threesome with the guy she’d been cheating on me with.” He slides a finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “There is nothing there.”

I blink a few times, trying to be strong and not get lost in his blue gaze. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I’m not.” His hand moves to my waist, and he pulls me against his chest, lowering his face to my ear. “You were my type from the moment I saw you… fucking me with those pretty amber eyes, dancing around here in those hot little cutoffs, teasing me with that ass.”

“Stop.” I laugh, feeling my ears heat. “I was not.”

“You were. Then you melted my face off. I should sue for sexual harassment.”

“You don’t work for me.”

“Wouldn’t that be interesting.” He winks, reaching down to lift my hand. “I got you something.” He takes a delicate, woven-leather bracelet from his pocket and slides it on my wrist. It has dark-blue glass beads threaded in the strands, which he pulls to tighten it. “Kimmie and I were walking along the bay, and a girl was selling them.”

I turn my hand side to side. “I love it!”

“I’ll get you something nicer, but I couldn’t resist. Look.” He turns my hand so I can read the word Mine stamped on the side.

My nose wrinkles, and I slide my finger over it. I love it so much, it might as well be made of twenty-four-karat gold. Reaching forward, I slide my arms around his waist, pulling us together.

“Logan,” I sigh heavily. “I’m afraid we’re moving too fast.”

His hands are on my back, one at my waist and the other sliding higher until his fingers thread in the back of my hair.

He presses a kiss against the top of my head, and my eyes close as he takes a long inhale. “We might be, but I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my life. Besides football.”

Leaning back, I look up at him. “Maybe we should just keep in touch and not call it dating. That way nobody gets hurt.”

A half smile lifts the side of his mouth. “Is that possible for you? I’d be pretty pissed if some golfer came along and stole you away from me while I was gone.”

Exhaling a frustrated growl, I press my head against his chest. “Nobody’s going to steal me away from you.”

“We’ll just call it dating then. To keep things straight.”

My eyes close, and my head is still against his chest. “I’m afraid. What if you get hurt?”

His large hand slides over the back of my neck again, and he kisses my head once more. “Your brother would never let that happen.”

Miss Gina sits on the black, wrought-iron bench in the middle of her sweet olive bushes. She’s in a straw hat, and she has a pink shawl around her narrow shoulders. Kimmie runs back and forth behind her, trying to catch an orange kitten, who’s hiding under the outdoor patio.

“Come on, kitty-kitty, I have a treat!” My niece rubs her little fingers together as if she has something in them. She doesn’t.

“I’ve found that if I sit very still, eventually, she’ll come out and attack my shawl. Try that.” Miss Gina calls to her before turning to me. “Your brother has done so much around here since he started, I’m almost glad Steven retired. I’m not sure he was doing anything!”

Her blind eyes narrow with her laugh, and she stands slowly, reaching for me. I take her hand, leading her to where Logan stands beside Zane, holding the side of a pergola while my brother finishes attaching the roof.

Climbing down slowly, he slaps Logan’s back. “Thanks for stopping by to help me with this. It’s really more of a two-person job.”

“No problem.” Logan takes the hammer while Zane packs up the rest of the tools.

The wooden structure stands at the back corner of the patio over a slightly raised platform, and Miss Gina slides her hand up the smooth wooden posts. “Rachel is going to love this. She can set up her massage table here and take clients. Wouldn’t a flowering vine be nice wrapping around these columns, Zane? What do you think? Maybe a Bougainvillea or a Sweet Pea?”

“Sure.” My brother nods, squinting up at her. “Whatever you want.”

“Is that the friend of your niece?” I’m so excited. “When do you expect her?”

“Not until the fall, but she’s going to love all the new additions.” The old lady’s eyebrow arches, and I glance over to see my brother’s back is turned.

He motions to Logan, who helps him carry the tools to the small shed behind the house.

“I’m really glad it’s working out. Zane had me worried.”

The old woman nods, pressing her lips together. “He’s still carrying some baggage, but he’s a hard worker. Like you!”

“Help me, Lightning McQueen!” Kimmie yells from where she’s on her hands and knees at the side of the patio. “The kitty is right there!”

“He’s lovely.” Miss Gina slips her hand into the crook of my arm. “He sounds very handsome.”

“I don’t know how someone can sound handsome.” I tease her.

“Are you saying he’s not?”

“No, he’s really hot.” I duck my head, and we both laugh.

“A football player.” Her brow arches. “I remember when you said you’d never date one of those.”

“I was always so worried after we lost our dad, and after all he went through and suffered. The guys are all I have left.”

“I know.” Her voice is quiet, and she pulls my hand into her arm as we walk back to the bench. “But loss can happen anywhere at any time. You have to face your fears to learn they can’t defeat you. You’ve survived all the pain life has thrown at you, and here you are, replaceing new happiness.”

Chewing my lip, I watch as he pulls the small, orange feline from under the patio for a cheering Kimmie. The tiny cat’s claws are visibly digging into his hand, but he doesn’t even flinch as my niece pets its little head, cooing at it and showering it with unwanted affection.

He looks up, and when our eyes meet, it’s an electric charge through my entire body.

“I’m not sure I’d survive if something happened to him.” My voice is quiet.

“You would.” The old woman pats my hand. “But you can’t live thinking that way. You have to know that you would, then let it go and enjoy the time you have together. That’s what makes life worth living.”

He finally releases the small cat, and it dashes under the patio again with my niece right behind it. Standing, he walks over to us, gorgeous in those faded jeans and a maroon tee.

His dark hair is brushed away from his face, and his possessive smile sends heat rising in my body. “What are you ladies talking about?”

He wraps a muscled arm around my waist, and I tilt my head against his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent of citrus and sandalwood.

“I heard Dylan took the job at the high school.” Miss Gina lifts her chin in our direction. “I’m sure the students are so excited. You were such a beautiful dancer.”

“Now you’re just being nice.” I laugh, nudging her side. “You never saw me dance.”

“But I was in the audience. I heard the music and the gasps of the people around me. They were amazed.”

“It was all Craig.”

“Don’t believe her.” Logan leans down, taking a deep breath at the top of my head and sending chills skating down my arms. “Craig was good, but Dylan was breathtaking.”

The old lady’s eyes shine with delight, and she presses her lips into a satisfied smile. “Yes, you are quite lovely. It’s all going to work out.”

Logan gives me a confused smile, but I shake my head. There she goes again.