The Way We Score: A small-town, accidental pregnancy, sports romance. (The Bradford Boys)

Lying on my back, I study my phone, thinking about everything that happened after we got to the house last night. Rolling onto my side, I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty sure that’s the only time I’ve passed up sleep to be with a woman.

When we finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion, it was early.

Then when I woke up, she was fully dressed, standing over me, and very apologetic.

My younger brother’s not letting me off that easy.

Is it possible to walk bowlegged from having too much sex? Is there such a thing as too much sex? These are all questions I’d be asking the brothers in the chat, and yeah, I’d be a little braggy about it… But I don’t think Liv would like it. She wouldn’t want me discussing our sex life with them, so I won’t.

I rub a hand over the back of my neck. What makes me think she even cares?

“What the hell?” Craig sits back on his stool when I enter the kitchen. “Why does your face look like that?”

The tall slim guy I didn’t officially meet last night, but who I know to be formerly closeted Clint stands beside him. They’re both dressed in jeans and T-shirts, and their hair is neatly messy. If we were in that kind of town, they’d look like hipsters on the way to a specialty coffee shop.

As it is, we’re in the kitchen of Cooters & Shooters, and the only coffee here is drip.

I can’t say for sure, but I think we’re all a little tired and-slash-or hungover.

“Good morning to you, too.” I walk over to the pot of coffee and pour me a cup.

“Why do you look like somebody kicked your dog? Did Liv throw you out of bed? Were you snoring too loud?”

My brows quirk, and I shake my head. “Actually, I think she was trying to slip out without waking me.”

Clint’s lips twist in an empathetic frown, but he doesn’t say anything, thankfully.

Craig, by contrast, who grew up with all of us and who has known everybody since forever, including Liv, sits back and crosses his arms. “So what happened? Liv doesn’t play games, and she was all up in your grill last night.”

I take a long, slow drink of comforting, hot coffee, and I kick around all the thoughts that have been warring in my head since she said she’d better get going when I caught her with one foot out the door at five a.m.

She was so pretty in the morning glow. Her cheeks were scuffed from my beard. Her lips were swollen from all the kisses… all the many, many kisses. I ate her pussy, she sucked my cock, she rode me backwards and forwards. At one point, we came so hard, we made monkey noises. Yet, there she was, barely making eye-contact as she thanked me for a nice evening.

A nice evening.

“I think it was sort of a rebound-type deal. You know, for both of us.” I put the mug down and stare at it, not wanting to meet their eyes.

Rebound. It’s what I settled on after she left with a polite smile, and an even more polite kiss.

It was so fucking nice, you’d never have known I’d had the tip of my dick in her ass for a good ten minutes while she yelped like a puppy.

“What does that mean?” Craig’s face squints with a disapproving frown. “Rebound from who?”

I take another long sip of coffee, thinking how this hot, dark liquid sort of helps. I’m not about to tell him I wasn’t rebounding from anyone. I haven’t seriously dated anyone since I moved to New York, and being with her last night had me thinking all kind of crazy long-term, rekindling thoughts.

I was all in. Still…

“I don’t want to share her private business, but I think we all know she was married.”

Craig shakes his head like duh. “So? She hasn’t had a ring on the whole time she’s been here.”

“Well, she told me she’d just signed the papers before she came.” The day she left town, she’d said.

“Doesn’t it take a while to get to the signing papers part? She’s had plenty of time for a rebound.” Craig crosses his arms. “I’m not buying it. You are not a rebound, my friend.”

“Look, all I know is if you went through a painful divorce, it makes sense that a reunion-type situation with an old high school boyfriend would be a good way to get over it. Right?”

“Wrong.” Craig shakes his head. “That is not how you get over it. A hottie in the club with a big dick is how you get over it.”

“You’re thinking like a guy, and a gay guy at that.” This coffee really is helping me focus on reality. “Liv is a woman. Women like to feel safe in their sexual relationships.”

“What the fuck?” Craig cries. “When did you turn into Esther Perel?”

“That’s a total stereotype.” Hendrix strolls in talking like he’s been here the whole time and goes straight to the coffee pot. “Some women love to be sexually adventurous, take it from me.”

I’m about to take it from him—and stick it down his throat.

“It’s closed-minded to think all women are looking for their daddy,” he continues. “Also, what’s this about her mom and the walker?”

“Yeah,” I exhale a laugh, distracting my urge to pick up my younger brother and throw him in the dumpster. “Apparently, Ms. Plum pretended to be lame so Liv would stick around for Dylan’s wedding.”

She didn’t explicitly say it, and I don’t know for sure, but I think her mom wanted us to have a “reunion” weekend as well. Ms. Plum was always on my side. It’s probably because I always mowed her grass and helped her move furniture around and cleaned the limbs out of her yard after storms. She would say I was the son she never had.

The thought makes me smile.

“The important question is did you give her that BDE?” Hendrix waggles his eyebrows.

Craig makes a groaning noise. “Incorrect usage. You have BDE. You slip her a BD… or a BBD, depending on your persuasion.”

“I’m not talking about having sex with Liv with you two big mouths.”

“Uncle Grizzlaaaay!” That little voice shuts down all our locker-room talk.

“Lord, I love that little girl, but somebody turn down her volume.” Craig puts his hands on his face.

Small shoes slap against the tile floor, and my niece bursts through the double doors, heading straight to me. Bending down, I scoop her onto my back, feeling a lot better since I had a mug of coffee.

“You’re up early, Peanut. What are you doing?”

“Daddy said Uncle Craig was making omelets, and he said everybody was coming here for breakfast, and Aussie gave me a ride.”

“I don’t know about omelets, but I’ll scramble up some eggs.” Craig opens the door of the industrial size refrigerator and takes out a cardboard box.

“You’re here with Austin?” I glance over to the doors. “Where’s your dad?”

Our phones light up with a text.

I glance up to see my younger brother’s fingers moving over the screen, so I don’t worry about it. I bounce Kimmie over to where Craig and Clint are dragging out shredded cheese, a bag of minced onions, green peppers, spinach.

It only takes a few minutes for the rest to reply.

I half expect my formerly dark-horse older brother to include a selfie, but if he did it would be one of those artsy-fartsy ones with the sheet billowing around their entwined bodies with nothing showing.

Damn, my brain is fucked-up this morning.

Rubbing my forehead, I don’t want to think about Liv leaving. I don’t want to think about how it was only a rebound for her. I don’t want to think about how she smiled as she thanked me so politely for a fun night.

The fucking earth moved under my feet. It was a fucking Carole King song, and she was so cool about it all. Sure, she was annoyed with her mom, but she actually gave me a hug and a smile. She was sorry she had to get back, but she’d been out of the office for almost a month. She didn’t even want to think about the pile of work on her desk.

She acted like last night didn’t count. That was my dumb, made-up rule, wasn’t it? I could kick my own ass. All of it counted, from that kiss to the dancing to every single moment.

My head tilts to the side, and I glance back at Kimmie on my back. “What do you want for breakfast, Peanut?”

“Eggs! Eggs! I want eggs!” She bounces the stuffed, red turtle on my shoulder with every word.

“I’ve got all the eggs coming right up. You two head out and set the tables.”

“I know how! Miss Allie showed me!” Kimmie wiggles, and I put her on her feet as she takes off like a comet through the double doors again.

“If only there was a way to bottle that.” Craig shakes his head, turning to the stove and clicking on the fire.

“I’ll make more coffee,” I volunteer.

Lord knows I’m going to need some more. I’m going to need a lot more of a lot of things to get over last night, and the only person I have to blame is myself.

“I loved that Hot Cherry drink.” Rachel’s head is in her hands. “A little too much.”

“Kinda like what happened when Zane got your hot cherry,” Allie stage-whispers, leaning into her side.

“Oh my God, Allie!” Rachel gives her a push then immediately grabs her head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My brother puts his arm around her, exhaling a chuckle as he hugs her closer. “Have some toast.”

She snuggles into his side, and I remember when I thought they were cute. Sunny Rachel who finally dragged my grumpy older brother out of his shell. Now they need to get a room and stop being all happy in our faces.

“Try the cooter special with a side of sherry,” Hendrix teases. “Or skip the soup and just do a shot of sherry.”

“I have three cooters!” Kimmie hops onto her knees in the chair beside me.

My little brother snorts, dropping his chin. “It’s too much.”

Kimmie’s eyes sparkle like she knows she’s doing something, and she tries to stand. “Miss Olivia said their names are Snappy, Happy, and Earl!”

Reaching out, I hold her waist, wondering when Liv might’ve told her that. “Easy there. That’s not safe.”

She crawls into my lap. “She said I was just like Aunt Deedee when she was my age.” Her amber eyes sparkle, and I can tell that makes her happy.

“You are.” I give her a little pat.

“Like Dylan on crack.” Hendrix laughs.

Kimmie makes a face at him before scooting higher to put her hand on my shoulder. “Crack is wack, Uncle Grizz.”

“Oh, yeah?” For once today, I don’t have to force a smile. “Who told you that?”

“Uncle Hendrix.”

“Well, he’s right, but don’t let him teach you all his grandpaw slang. He looks slick and edgy, but he’s not. He’s a dork.”

Hendrix flips me the bird. “I’m auramaxxing. You should try it.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Develop an aesthetic. Sit in nature.” He locks eyes with me. “Make eye contact.”

“Knock it off, freak.” I lift my hand as if to ward him off.

“Have a social life outside your love life,” he continues.

“Pretty sure I’m already doing all that.”

“If Garrett gets any more aura, he’ll explode,” Craig calls from the other end of the table.

“That’s my boy Cray.” I lift my hand to do an air high-five. “Always got my back.”

Looking around, I notice Jack talking to Austin at the back of the room near the pool tables. Rachel’s brother Edward is holding Smokey, the resident gray kitten, while he watches his friend Benji shoot pool.

“I think I’ll head back to the house.” I collect all the plates around me, while Kimmie climbs into Hendrix’s lap.

“Snappy has aura.” She crosses the red turtle’s legs. “He’s doing an athletic.”

“Aesthetic,” Hendrix corrects her. “It means your vibe.”

“He has a vibe.” She crosses the turtle’s leg the other way.

“Don’t teach her that crap.” I give him a nudge.

“I don’t have to teach her. KJ’s smart.”

“I make all fives in school.” She nods, looking up at him.

“Good work.” He pats her back. “Now, let’s just get this straight. You don’t have permission to like any boys until you’re an old lady… except your dad, Uncle Zane, Uncle Garrett, and me.”

Her little face scrunches. “What about Uncle Logan?”

“And Uncle Logan… Oh, and Uncle Craig.”

“Uncle Craig only likes boys. That’s why he’s so gay.”

Holding my nose, I do my best not to snort.

“That’s correct, little queen, and don’t you forget it.” Craig touches her shoulder as he passes with Clint, and she nods.

“I’m going to marry Aussie.” She lifts her chin with a confident smile.

Hendrix shifts in his seat, looking to where Jack and Austin are talking. “Does Austin know that?”

“I think so.” Kimmie shrugs. “He takes care of me, and he’s a quarterback like my daddy.”

“Ahh… that doesn’t necessarily mean⁠—”

I decide to leave my youngest brother to untangle that mess, and I head for the kitchen. I’m halfway there when Jack catches up with me, holding the door so I can carry the plates to the industrial dishwasher.

“You okay?” His brow lowers. “I saw Liv on the way out of town. She was driving pretty fast.”

“I guess she had to get back to Birmingham.” I don’t know what else to say, and I don’t really want to talk about it, even though it seems everybody knows.

My oldest brother crosses his arms, watching as I finish loading up the dishwasher. I know he’s waiting to walk with me to the house, and I’m tempted to clean the pots and pans as well just to see if he’ll give up and go away.

I know he won’t. Jack’s took over the role of dad after we lost ours years ago, and he’s not going to let any of us off the hook if we’re hurting. Looking around, I decide to get it over with and head for the screen door down the hall from the kitchen.

He follows me out, down the short flight of steps to the path leading to our home.

“I’d say that was a pretty interesting development last night, but you don’t look too happy about it.” He cuts those blue eyes up at me. “It didn’t start with Liv, though, did it?”

This guy. He doesn’t miss a thing.

“I don’t know.” I shove my hands in my pockets, taking the path at a slower pace.

I said Liv used last night as an escape from the things that were troubling her back home, but hell, I did the same damn thing.

“What’s on your mind?”

We take a few steps, and I guess if anyone would understand how I’m feeling, it’s Jack. He didn’t retire because he was injured. He was at the top of his game. He was a superstar on the way to being a legend when he walked away and moved back to Newhope with a little girl and a shitty divorce.

“I’ve been thinking,” I start. “In a few short months, I’ll be looking at another season. I’m not so sure my heart’s in it anymore.”

His hands are in his pockets, and he looks down at his boots. “You have one season left in your contract. Have you thought about what you might do when it ends?”

“I’ve actually thought about it a lot.”

Glancing up at me, his brow quirks. “Radio?”

“Nah, that’s Logan’s thing. And Zane’s. And yours, I guess.”

“Not mine,” he laughs. “I’m glad to stop in and chat every now and then, but I don’t want to have to talk for ninety minutes every week. I can’t believe Zane does.”

“No shit. I couldn’t believe it either.” Looking up, we’re almost at the house. “He’s good at it, though.”

“So what are you thinking?” He stops, turning to face me.

“I got my degree in criminal justice.” Reaching up, I scrub the back of my neck. “I kind of always wanted to work in law enforcement. Maybe be a sheriff here in town. I just need to do the training. Hell, maybe I could even do it on the job.”

His brows rise, but as he thinks about it he starts to nod. “I can see that. You’d be a damn good sheriff. You’re intimidating as hell, but you’re actually pretty even-keeled and fair.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Nodding, he takes a step and we continue up to where his old Ford step-side is parked in front of the house. “I’ll talk to Rodney and see what you’d need to do. I bet in a year we could have something lined up if that’s really what you want.”

An unexpected weight lifts off my chest. It’s so surprising, it actually makes me want to laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

“All right.” Jack smiles, smacking his palm against my shoulder. “Now you’re looking more like my baby brother.”

“Baby brother, my ass.”

“For a few minutes you were a baby.”

“Now I’m the man.”

“You’ve still got some training, and I’m pretty sure there’s a test at the end.”

“I’ll be ready. I was born ready.”

“Okay, big shot.”

“I’m also ready for you to do something about that Allie situation. Need me to help you like I helped Zane?”

“You helped Zane?” He makes a scoffing laugh, and I can’t resist.

“Need me to draw you a diagram?”

His jaw tightens, and he doesn’t say a word as he climbs into the truck. Still, I’m pretty sure I catch the hint of a grin.