Dirty Game:A Secret Baby Sports Romance(3)

I realized that, other than a little wet sand stuck to my favorite  shorts, I was fine. But I wasn't about to let my cocky assailant know  that. I was ready to launch into a verbal tirade on why he should have  been paying more attention, when I looked up and lost my words.

I took in the muscular six two frame topped with sandy hair. I had only  seen eyes that color once before. They were a grey-green I couldn't  forget. They were sexy bedroom eyes that threw every good comeback I had  out the window.

"Blake?" I sputtered, finding my voice.

He threw everything out the window. Holy shit.





4





Blake





Fuck.

"Sierra."

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Her eyes seemed to light with as much fire as I had running under my veins.                       
       
           



       

"I could ask you the same thing."

I had plowed her down. Run her into the sand as if she were a lineman on  a Sunday afternoon. She didn't want my help dusting off the sand.

"My aunt died. I'm cleaning out her house," she explained. She pinched her plump lips together. Those fucking lips.

"Right." Fuck. Why was it I couldn't think about anything except the last time I saw her?

She took me right back to high school. To college. To a time when I gave two fucks about what a girl thought.

Cole ran up behind me. "Why if it isn't Sierra Emory." He pulled her into a resistant hug. She looked over his shoulder at me.

"Hi. Cole."

"It's like a damn high school reunion     around here." He grinned. He was already drunk.

"I guess so."

"Is this your boat, Cole?" Sierra asked.

"Nah, she's Blake's. He built her himself," Cole said, as I turned up the music.

"Really? You built this?" Sierra looked surprised.

I hopped on the boat and strolled to the lineup of coolers.

I leaned back in the captain's chair, propping my feet next to the steering wheel. "Really."

"Sorry, my cousin's such an ass and a bad receiver. That was a perfect throw," Cole quipped, smiling at Sierra.

"You're crazy." I glared. "I caught that pass by the way. Which is  pretty fucking amazing considering I'm the one who usually throws it."

"No one around here gives a shit," Cole shot back.

I grinned. It was why I loved it. But now Sierra was here and suddenly  it didn't seem the same. She shouldn't be here. My boat was anchored on  shore, but I felt as if it were rocking with some new kind of current.

"Don't want your head getting too big," I egged him on.

"It was good to see you both." Sierra stepped back. "But I think Shirley  wanted me to see some other people." I wasn't surprised she was trying  to run. Typical.

"Hey, come on. Why don't you cruise with us?" Cole asked. "Like we used  to do." He waggled his eyebrows. "It will be like old times."

I retrieved my legs from their propped position. "Man, I didn't know we  were planning a cruise tonight. It's going to be crowded out there with  everyone trying to drop anchor to watch the fireworks."

I sure as fuck wasn't going to tell Cole I cared if Sierra was out on  the water with us, but I'd be damned if I would just invite her back  into my island life.

Cole shot a look over his shoulder to the Shirley Lane party, and Sierra  followed his gaze. Henry was parading around the corn hole players with  Shirley perched on his shoulders. She was screaming all the words to  the pirate tune blaring across the beach. Things at Shirley Lane were  getting rowdy. Drunk rowdy.

"It's either this or we cruise." Cole shrugged his shoulders at me. "It's up to you-your boat."

"All right. Let's pull anchor. Come on." He made his way to the bow of  the boat and started working the anchor free from the sand.

"I'm going to shove us off," Cole offered.

Sierra hadn't moved.

"If you don't want to ride, just stay here, darlin'," I called over the low rumble of the diesel engine.

I didn't need her on my boat. I didn't need her on my island. I wasn't going out of my way to make her comfortable.

"I'm going." She jogged forward and Cole helped her across the bow.

Fuck. Now what?





5





Sierra





I glanced back over my shoulder at Blake and Cole. I had settled at the  bow of the boat. The wind whipped through my hair as Blake steered us  around the island.

Cole was laughing at something Blake had said, but I couldn't hear what  the guys were discussing over the muffled sounds of the wind.

I don't know why I decided to jump on board. It was stupid and rash. I  didn't want Blake to know it bothered me. I wanted to act like things  were fine. Normal. I could handle it.

But on the inside I was dying. Falling apart. Shaking from the look in  his eye. The anger in his voice. What in the hell was I doing here?

I tried to catch my hair in a fist. It was blowing all around my face.

I edged off the bow and attempted to stand. Before I was completely upright, the boat slowed to a crawling pace.

"Be careful up there," Blake called. "I don't want my passengers going  overboard." But there was no concern in his voice. It was a definite  warning not to screw with his night.

With the boat almost still, Cole walked toward me. "You need something? Out of beer?"                       
       
           



       

"Uh, no, just wondering if you could tell me where we are." I looked  away from Cole, and motioned toward the water. I used to know every part  of the sound. All the creeks. Now it was practically foreign.

I was turned around and couldn't get my bearings.

"Why don't you sit with Blake? He knows the island better than anyone."

I didn't know if that would make the shaking stop or make it worse. Why  did seeing Blake Wyatt after all these years do this to me?

Sure I'd seen him on TV. It was hard not to. He was the biggest thing to  ever come off this island. He was one of the AFA's biggest stars. And  he was my ex.

The guy I never stopped thinking about. The one who haunted me. The one  who made it impossible to let another guy near me. Damn it. Why was I on  his boat?

I stood and balanced myself before taking a step toward the stern. I had  to prove to myself and to the guys that I could be casual about this.  What happened all those years ago didn't matter anymore. I had accepted  our fate.

Blake and I weren't meant to be. He was successful and famous. I was  living my dream in Dallas. We were never going to be right for each  other.

"Can I sit here?" I pointed to the seat Cole had vacated next to Blake.

"Go ahead." Blake sipped from his beer and cut the engine to an idle.  "We can slow it down in these calm waters. No danger of hitting sandbars  tonight."

I lowered myself onto the narrow bench next to him. He kept his eyes  straight ahead, concentrating on the channel markers. As he clutched the  steering wheel with one hand, I noticed the muscles in his arms flexing  with each movement.

"That's good."

This was fucking awkward.

"I can just drop you off. Cole's drunk. This was his idea. Not mine."

I saw his cousin propped against the bow. His eyes were closed.

"I'm fine." I felt as if I had to say it aloud. He needed to hear it. I needed to hear it. It was a complete lie.

"Sure you are. Always fucking fine," he grumbled.

I stiffened next to him. Maybe I just needed to get off this boat.

"Hey, what was that old story you used to tell?" I asked. I recognized where we were for once. "Was it the swimmer something?"

"Fuck, Sierra. You don't remember? Seriously?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"I could tell you, but I wouldn't want to scare you."

"You can't scare me," I taunted.

"You sure about that?" Blake smiled. It was sexy and smoldering. Enough to make me shiver.

He eased closer and rested his arm on the ledge above my shoulders. The  breeze swirled through my hair, and I wondered if he could smell my  shampoo, because I was drinking in every ounce of him-even though I  tried not to.

"Try me." I turned toward him, fully aware that his arm was almost touching me. Almost.

"See that light out there." He pointed to a faint flashing yellow light in the distance.

"Of course," I responded. It was as clear as any of the other markers dotting the dark waters.

He pivoted toward me. "Even if I wanted to, I can't take us to it. As soon as we head toward it, it will move."

My eyes grew big. "Oh wait. I think I remember that story."

I never believed in ghost stories or legends. "It's not real, Blake."

"It's real. The way my dad told it, a sailor was stranded on the shoals  after a shipwreck about a hundred years ago. He was able to get out of  the ship with a lantern and tried to swim to shore, but the currents out  here are unpredictable and he never made it to land. The next day, they  found his lantern, but never the body."