Chapter 8
EIGHT
RYKER
Iwish I’d known how many damn footballs Casey would bring to this coaching session. I’d spent the last hour chasing after them while they threw long passes across the field. Casey’s arm was incredible, but I wasn’t sure what the aim of this drill was.
As I bent to pick up yet another ball, shouting filled the air. I stood, and a ball smacked me in the ass, a twinge of pain running down my leg. “Goddamn it.” With a snort and a shake of my head, I twisted around.
Casey and Wes cackled, holding their stomachs and pointing at me, Wes saying, “Now that’s what I call good aim.”
“All right, you two. Who threw that?” I plucked the new ball from the grass and jogged toward them. When would we get a break?
“Casey threw it.” Wes stepped away from Casey.
“No, Wes threw that one.” He covered his smiling mouth with his hand.
“Did not.” Wes gave Casey a playful shove.
“Oh, you want a piece of me?” Grabbing Wes around the waist, Casey tackled him to the ground. “Sack!”
“That’s not fair.” In a fit of giggles, Wes tumbled in the grass with Casey.
“I’ll show you fair.” Casey tickled Wes’s sides, sitting on top of his thighs. “Next time, admit what you did.”
“I didn’t do it.” Laughing, Wes shoved Casey’s hands while wriggling on the ground.
As warmth bloomed in my chest, a smile swept my mouth. Casey was so good with Wes, so patient. I hadn’t seen Wes this happy in a long time. “Okay, I don’t care who did it. I’m ready for a break.” I stopped beside them as Casey rolled off Wes.
“Sandwiches?” Casey lifted his brows and gave me a lop-sided grin. “Hell yeah.”
“You've got it.” I strode to the picnic table under a mesquite tree, where we’d left our gear, and opened a cooler. Casey was getting to me, no doubt about it. And last night’s kiss? Hell, it about did me in. I rummaged through the grocery bag, set paper towels on the table and then the sandwiches.
“I’m starved.” Wes threw a leg over the bench seat, grabbed his already half-drunk Gatorade bottle and gulped it down.
“Me too.” Casey fell in beside me and opened his sandwich bag. “These will taste so good.” He bit into his sandwich. “Mmm…”
“They’re not that special.” Dropping onto the bench, I slid my ham and cheese sandwich out, my mouth watering. Yeah, I was hungry too.
Bumping his shoulder into mine, Casey said, “They were made with love, and that makes them special and extra tasty.”
“Dude.” Wes rolled his eyes. “That’s pretty cringe, Casey.”
“It’s part of my charm.” He wagged his brows at me. “Right, Ryker?”
I took another bite of the food. “Whatever you say.” Sometimes, I didn’t know what to think of him. But he had a way of making me smile. Few people did, besides Dylan.
“See? Your brother likes it, and that’s all that matters.” Casey sipped his Gatorade.
“Since you seem so happy with each other, tell me about your date last night.” Wes took a big bite of his sandwich.
My heart about stopped. The little fucker. I’d already told him it had gone well the night before. What was he trying to do? I peeked at Casey.
Flinging his arm around my shoulders, Casey hauled me to his side. “It was the best date I’ve ever had.”
Why, because it was the only date he’d ever had? No, he’d fallen for some guy at football camp. But had they gone on a date? I picked some crust off the edge of my sandwich.
“What about you, Ryker? Was it the best date you’ve ever had?” Wes’s eyes twinkled at me.
With a shrug, I said, “Yeah, guess so. I mean, we went to a car show. It doesn’t get better than that for a mechanic.” I glanced at Casey. Was it mean to say? But it was difficult to know when Casey was serious.
Casey’s grin fell, and he dipped his gaze toward the table. “I enjoyed being with you last night, Ryker.”
I had to recover. But what? Leaning in, I kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand as it rested on his thigh. “Me too.”
As his gaze met mine, his grin returned with a vengeance. “Can we have a repeat tonight?”
“Ryker was supposed to make a pot of stew for dinner. Why don’t you come over and eat with us?” Wes smirked at me.
The little fucker. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure we’d be together. “Yes, there’ll be plenty. Come on over.”
“Okay, when?” Casey sipped his drink. “I promise I won’t stay too long. I know you’re up early for work, and I have training in the morning.”
“We eat early on Sundays, so how about five?” I bit into my sandwich. After this, I’d start on the stew, allowing it to simmer while I showered.
“Works for me.” Casey squeezed my hand. “Looking forward to it.”
I checked the pot of stew on the stove, inhaling the aroma of beef with a hint of garlic and rosemary. I’d gotten this recipe online, and it had quickly become a favorite of mine and Wes’s.
After shaking my damp bangs from my head, I peeked at Wes, resting on the couch and watching an episode of South Park. Would he hang out with us the whole time? Knowing him, he’d find an excuse to leave us alone. “So, what are your plans for tonight?”
“Probably Xbox in my room.” With a smirk, he twisted on the couch, facing me. “You know, I don’t care if you take Casey into your room.”
My chest squeezed. It was Mom’s room, and all the mom shit might look odd to Casey. “I don’t know. We’ll see.” At some point, I needed to explain a few things to him.
Knocking sounded at the door.
“Shit, he’s here.” I checked the clock above the stove. Ten minutes before five. The fucker was always early.
“I’ll let you get it, so you can kiss him when you great him.” Wes freed a soft snort.
With a huff, I strode to the door and opened it. “I won’t kiss—”
Planting his mouth against mine, Casey grabbed the back of my head and caught me in place, then let me go. “Here.” He held a brightly colored bouquet between us.
“Oh, um…” I fought to control my breath. What the hell had just happened? He kissed me on the mouth, just like that. I gaped at the flowers. Holy shit. “Thanks.” Grabbing the bouquet from him, I stepped aside. “Come on in.”
He waltzed into the room, patted Wes on the shoulder and said, “Damn, Ryker, it smells heavenly in here.”
“Yeah, it’s a recipe I’ve been making for a few years now.” I found one of Mom’s vases in an upper cabinet, filled it with water and added the flowers. Casey was full of surprises.
“What are you watching?” Casey stood next to Wes and faced the television.
“The new South Park. It’s funny as hell.” He glanced at me. “Is dinner ready yet?”
“Almost.” I placed the flowers in the center of the table. I’d already set it with spoons and napkins. No one had ever brought me flowers. “Are you ready to eat, Casey?” I opened the lid of the pot on the stove and peeked inside. The stew had finished cooking.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” Casey strolled into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around me from behind and nuzzled the back of my ear. “The stew isn’t the only thing smelling delicious.”
His body heat shivered down my back and lodged in my balls. “Yeah?” I never quite knew how to reply to his flirtations. “Let’s eat then.” I stirred the stew and then filled the top bowl of the stack, resting next to the pot. “Here.” I handed the bowl to him.
“Thank you.” As he ambled toward the table, he said, “Wes, I’ve got some stew for you.”
“Oh, great.” Wes shut off the television, jumped from the couch and sat at the table as Casey placed the bowl in front of him.
“What do you want to drink?”
“There’s lemonade in the refrigerator, and can you grab some bread?” Wes scooped stew onto a spoon and blew across it.
“Of course.” Casey ticked his brows at me.
“Wes, Casey is the guest. Get the bread yourself.” I tsked and filled another bowl with stew. Maybe I needed to assign him some chores.
“No, that’s fine. Where is it?” Casey pulled a bottled lemonade and two canned beers from the refrigerator. “I’m assuming the beer is for us?”
“You assumed right.” I hadn’t been sure he’d want one, with his visiting the gym in the morning. “You can find the bread in the upper cabinet by the fridge.” I filled the last bowl with soup.
After piling the drinks in the crook of one arm, Casey grabbed a loaf of bread and brought it all to the table. “Here’s your drink and bread, Your Highness.” He bowed to Wes and sank into a chair.
“This is fun, like having two dads.” With a chuckle, Wes twisted his lemonade bottle open.
“I’m not nearly old enough to be your dad.” Casey snicked a beer can open.
After placing bowls of stew down for me and Casey, I said, “How about some butter for the bread?” Wes either forgot about it or thought it’d be too much to ask Casey for.
“Yes, please.” Wes opened the wrapping of the loaf of bread. “Ryker splurged and bought a loaf of sourdough since you were coming over.”
“Oh?” Casey threw a peek at me.
“Wes…” I scoffed. Fuck, he didn’t have to give everything away. So what if I typically made do with the cheapest bread in the store? I took the butter dish and then sat near Casey, opposite Wes.
“Next time I’ll bring sourdough and flowers.” Casey buttered a slice of bread and dunked it in his stew.
“You don’t have to bring anything. It’s our treat.” Casey had done enough for us already. I opened my beer and sipped it. “Damn, nothing compares to a cold beer after being in the heat all day.”
“And the hot stove, cooking?” With a smirk, Casey buttered another slice of bread and handed it to me.
“Thanks, and yes.” I dipped the bread into the stew and stuffed it in my mouth. Rosemary and garlic mixed with the creamy beef broth to glide across my tongue. This recipe’s gravy was almost the best part.
“Damn, Ryker, you can cook.” Casey tapped his spoon on a potato floating in his stew. “My friend Eli would be jealous.”
“Eli?” I spooned stew into my mouth. Wasn’t he the guy I’d met at The Thirsty Lion? The guy I’d stupidly thought was a hookup?
“Yeah, you met him.” Casey sopped up more broth with his bread. “He’s taken to giving me dating advice.” He glanced at Wes, fully engrossed in his dinner.