But she only shrugged and watched the action on the field. “You’ll just have to use your imagination for that one.”
Oh, he was using his imagination all right. Only her leg was over his head instead of hers. Setting the borderline dirty banter aside, Brandon had no doubt she’d been the best dancer on the stage. Because Stella threw her heart and soul into whatever she did. She was too competitive to allow anyone to show her up. Being forced to give up her passion had to have been crushing for her. Brandon had never given it much thought, beyond his good fortune that her retirement ultimately led her to Blanco Valley. But after everything she’d been through, and then having to walk away from the only thing that had given her sanctuary? She was a thousand times stronger than he’d ever given her credit for.
“Do you miss it?” he asked her.
Stella’s gaze followed the Bobcats as they intercepted the ball from Alamosa. The crowd around them surged to their feet and the band fired up. “All the time,” she answered after they retook their seats.
Brandon placed his empty nacho tray at his feet. “You were the best, weren’t you?”
She looked at him, the melancholy darkening her usually bright eyes punching a hole in his chest. “You know I was.”
Without thinking, and disregarding the game and fans around them, because Stella had a way of making everything else melt away, Brandon cupped her chin. She didn’t protest when he tilted her head up. Didn’t pull away when he stroked his thumb over her lower lip. Perhaps her willpower was as weak as his. Perhaps she was as tired of fighting the pull between them that seemed to grow stronger every time they were around each other. Whatever it was, Brandon wasn’t about to question the silent permission her eyes were giving him. Because they dropped closed in anticipation, waiting and inviting him to kiss her. And who was he to deny a beautiful woman? They both wanted it, both craved it, both needed it more than their next heartbeat.
Their lips pressed together, fusing with a sweet, yet burning desire. Stella moaned and dug her fingers into his forearms when he teased her slick lips with his tongue. A shiver ran through his body, surprising him because a woman had never made him shiver before. Weren’t the ladies the ones who were supposed to shiver? Stella had a way of forcing his body into a strange territory of the unknown. It turned him on and scared the shit out of him at the same time.
Just as he was about to release her, because they were surrounded by cheering football fans, Stella’s mouth parted and her tongue sought his. Not one to disappoint, Brandon kept the kiss going, meeting the stroke of her tongue with one of his own. He chased her, exploring the heat of her mouth and swallowing her surprised gasp.
Then she jumped back and yelped.
What the hell?
“Oh, I am so sorry,” Rhonda Powell exclaimed as she brushed her hand over Stella’s back. “The kid behind me bumped into me. I swear I didn’t mean to dump my ice all over your back.”
Biggest line of shit if Brandon ever heard one. Rhonda was as devious as they came and had been trying to shove her number in Brandon’s back pocket for months.
Stella turned and eyed the pile of ice on the concrete behind her. The withering look she tossed Rhonda could have melted said ice into a puddle. “It’s all right,” she told the woman with a sweet smile. “Some of us just aren’t blessed with grace and balance.”
Brandon managed to hide his chuckle as Rhonda’s fake-as-shit smile faded and was replaced with a ripe reddening of her cheeks. He eyed the patches of moisture on Stella’s back and was surprised Rhonda hadn’t dumped the stuff inside Stella’s shirt.
Then Rhonda turned her attention to Brandon, dismissing Stella with a flick of her gaze. She placed her hand on his shoulder, which quickly turned into a slow caress. “I didn’t get you, did I?”
He wrapped his hand around her wrist and removed it. “No, Rhonda, your aim was spot on.” Then he faced forward, shrugging her off the same way she’d done to Stella. “You all right?” he asked Stella.
Stella lowered her head and chewed her lip. Did she have any idea how damn cute she was?
“The steam coming out of Rhonda’s ears was worth that entire thing.”
And what about the kiss? Had that been worth it too? Before he could question that further, the crowd ceased cheering, then groaned in unison. His attention whipped toward the field just as Beverly Rowley whacked him on the knee with her orange and black pom-pom. “Hey, that’s Matty down there.”
Brandon yanked his attention to the field to see the play action had stopped, and the team was gathered in a cluster near the end zone. His son was on his back, both hands gripping his right shin as blood poured down his leg.
Beside him Stella gasped. “So much blood,” she whispered.
Brandon was just about to haul ass to the field when his cell vibrated from his back pocket. With his attention still riveted on his kid speaking to Blake and clutching his leg, Brandon retrieved his phone and saw a text from Cameron.
Don’t rush the field just yet.
Yeah, Cam knew him. Knew Brandon would get a look at his child’s bloody leg and need to be right there next to him.
As though sensing the panic quickly building and tensing his body, Stella placed her hand on his leg, squeezing with silent reassurance. She loved Matt; he knew that. She’d do anything for his son and he loved her for that. Her devotion to him was more than Trish had ever given Matt and Matt deserved that devotion. The kid deserved more than Brandon could give him on his own.
“He’ll be okay,” Stella muttered.
He leaned forward and gripped Beverly’s shoulder. “What happened?” He hated that he even had to ask. Damn it, he should have been paying closer attention. That was his kid out there, playing the game he loved, trying to land a scholarship, and he’d been too busy falling more in love with Stella. Drowning himself in her crystal-clear blue eyes, trying to imagine a future with them together.
“Couldn’t tell,” Beverly answered. “It looked like he collided with another player. I saw the other kid’s leg fly up; then Matt went down.”
The only thing Brandon could think of was that Matt had taken a cleat to the leg.
On cue, his cell buzzed and Brandon pulled Cam’s text up.
Took a cleat to the shin. Pretty deep gash, looks like he’ll need stitches. Blake’s releasing him from the game if you want to come grab him.
Stella must have read the text message over his shoulder, because she stood at the same time as he did and followed him down the bleachers. Brandon reached the bottom as Matt limped off the field with the help of two other players. His stomach twisted at the sight of blood oozing down Matt’s leg. The crowd applauded, showing their support for their player as he exited the game.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Brandon told Stella, but secretly absorbed her strength next to him.