14. From the Sidelines
FOURTEEN
FROM THE SIDELINES
GIGI
Jackson and I make our way to where everyone is congregating on the beach and setting up umbrellas. I decide to sit by Kelsea to keep her company, so I park my things by her and spread out my towel. I adjust the umbrella shade so the sun doesn’t burn us, especially her, with that almost translucent skin. She was always petite, but in the chair she appears smaller, like her health issues have shrunk her.
Under a canopy next to us, Belle and Addie sit in chairs and talk nonstop about baby stuff, and I’m not quite ready for those conversations.
I want kids, but I want a man first—Jackson—and he would do nicely. Mm, a flush reaches my cheeks not from the heat, but from the idea of him filling me with his seed, putting a baby Jackson inside of me. Doesn’t help that we share secret heated glances while he tosses a football around with the Dawson boys. I’m grateful he has no idea the fantasies playing in my head. But if we’re going to spend the day like this, I’ll be dripping wet by the time he gets me back to bed.
“You’re staring at him.” Kelsea chuckles.
“Yeah.” Only that comes out like a dreamy and corny sigh at first. “Oh, I mean… it’s Jackson. What’s not to appreciate? He has to have the best body here, and there are plenty of women on the beach who apparently think so.” Don’t get jealous. Don’t. Get. Jealous.
“There’s something more to this you’re not saying. Come on, you can tell me. Parker is always so busy he doesn’t share much with me.” She elbows my shoulder. I know I should see her more often, but I don’t know what to say about my current… situation-ship for lack of a better word. Jackson and I were too busy pleasing each other in the shower earlier to stop and think about how to tell our friends we’re together or whatever. So I bite my lip and shake my head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say a thing. I always knew you two would end up together.”
“Who wants a hot dog?” Beau shouts from the grill next to us, saving me from that conversation. I jump up and prepare a plate for both of us.
Beau has cooking duty, plus making sure the two pregnant women are happy “duty”, while the rest of the guys scarf down dogs and choose teams for a volleyball match. Davis, Dawson, Cooper, and Wes make up one team, challenging Jackson, Parker, Josh, and Danny. Because Dawson and Parker are known around town as Officer Dawson and Officer Parker, and arguably the most popular on the force besides Davis, their last names are used more frequently than their first.
Parker runs over to us and checks his phone, then puts it in his backpack. “Are you comfy, sweetie? Can I get you a drink or something? Your doctor said to keep hydrated.”
“I’m fine. Thanks.” Kelsea shakes her head, her shoulder length, straight, and dirty-blonde hair swishing against her t-shirt. She used to highlight and curl it so nicely back before the incident that pulled the life out from under her.
“I’m here and happy to help,” I offer.
“Go play and have fun, Parker,” she insists.
“Fine. Here’s the sunscreen if you need more. Yell if you need me,” he instructs, a stern look on his face. He runs back into place on the sandy court.
“Hey, Kelsea. Don’t break my heart. Tell me you’ll be cheering for my team,” Dawson yells with a grin.
Parker kicks sand at him from the other side of the net, chiding, “She’s cheering for her brother, idiot.”
“I have two hands. One for each of you.” She laughs and I join in, like we’re back to those days of being giggly school girls again.
“For as long as I can remember, Dawson’s had a thing for you,” I say, gathering my knees to my chest with one arm, while my other hand mindlessly sifts through the sand to my left.
I also recall how Dawson was broken-hearted after graduation when Kelsea broke up with him. She left to follow her dream, making off for college in New York a semester early, getting a jump on freshman law classes for the summer. He stayed here and became an officer of the law. Maybe things worked out the way they were supposed to.
“Dawson was always so sweet. I can’t believe after all this time some woman hasn’t claimed him yet. My word, that boy could kiss. Whew.” She fans herself at the memory.
“Well, you live here now and he’s unattached…” I suggest, my eyes watching Jackson’s every move—with his shirt off, of course.
“Oh, no. No. I-I have too much going on now, health-wise. I mean, look at me in this chair. And, well, you probably know I can’t have children.” She shocks me by how she can say all of that and not break down into tears. How strong she must be to get through a day?
I’d heard about the extent of Kelsea’s condition through Parker lamenting one night drunk at Davis and Belle’s not long before he moved her here from New York. “Yeah, but Dawson’s already had to raise his brothers on his own. Maybe he doesn’t want kids. Have you asked?”
She shakes her head, but waves as Dawson blows her a kiss after he scores a point as if he scored it just for her. Parker scowls, spitting words at him. “It took a while for the two of them to come around at first when Dawson wanted to date me in high school, remember?”
I do. “They almost erupted into a fistfight over you in the hallway between second and third period. Two best friends willing to duke it out right there and risk getting suspended.” At the time, I thought how lucky she was to have two guys who care so much for her to fight over her.
“They’re still friends, but I think the subject of me is a little touchy. All I want is for the two of them to find good women who can love them like they deserve. Until then, I’ll be here cheering for them from the sidelines. Oh, don’t be sad for me, Gigi.” Kelsea squeezes my arm. I realize I’m frowning, nearly crying, and try to stop. It’s only that her situation makes me so sad. “Really, I’m fine. I’ve resigned myself to the fact I’ll be alone the rest of my life. I have my books and my crafts, and keep myself busy, outside of doctor’s appointments and hospital stays, of course.”
I cock my head. “Couldn’t you practice law again? You had such passion for it.” I don’t see why she couldn’t.
She inhales and leans over, lowering her voice. “Don’t tell Parker, but I’ve been studying to take the bar exam here in South Carolina.”
My eyes double in size. “That’s amazing. You can do it. In fact, I’ll help you, whatever you need. A study buddy? Research? Name it.”
“Thanks for the support. I’ll let you know, but for now, let’s keep it between us.”
My eyebrows stitch together. “Why? Wouldn’t Parker be happy for you?”
“He’s just always so stressed. Between work, my needs, and stressing over the medical bills, I don’t want to add to his pressure. I’m the first to admit that taking care of me is like a full-time job on top of his full-time job, even though everyday I try to learn new ways of taking care of myself. I tell him it isn’t fair to him; he needs a life, too. But he won’t listen. I think he feels too much grief over the loss of our parents, so he can’t let me go.”
A vivid memory comes at me how, in elementary school, they were both out for a week after their parents were killed in a freak accident. Every kid in the building drew a card to try to cheer them up when they returned. But I doubt now that the cards made a difference.
A hundred questions are on the tip of my tongue about their situation, about insurance, her medical needs, and more, but, men being men, Parker’s team scores the winning point, and a roar of hollers comes from the sand court. Kelsea puts her fingers into her mouth and whistles for them.
Jackson stares me down expectantly, with a smile cocky and wide, like he’s just slayed the dragon for the maiden, the hero once again, and expects a celebration. I scramble to my feet and jump up and down and cheer, obviously letting my breasts bounce with the motion, all for his benefit, and luckily they don’t spill out. He licks his lips, eyeing me too hard, too long; it feels amazing to have his eyes only on me.
Parker runs over then, and pulls out his phone, checking things. He shields the screen from his sister’s eyes.
“Is everything okay?” She asks.
“Yeah. Definitely.” He pockets the phone, then focuses on her. “Okay. Enough sitting around, sweetie. Time for that dip in the ocean I promised you today.” He squats down so she can climb on his back, and with my help, we make it work. When he reaches his hands back to adjust her weight and position on his shoulders, something grabs my attention.
A scar is visible on his wrist—small enough not to be noticed by most, even though it’s raised off the surface of his skin. Since it’s right in front of my face, I ask. “Interesting scar there, in the shape of a crescent moon. How’d you get that, Parker?”
“Ah, it was no big deal. We were called in to break up a fight last summer in one of the bars. A drunk guy hit me with a broken bottle. Ready, sweetie?” He takes off with her quickly, leaving me behind to gape after them.
A shiver runs down my spine. In the hospital, when Mike said he’d felt a scar on his attacker’s wrist, it had triggered the exact memory for me. I’d felt the same before I was knocked out. I haven’t told Jackson yet, but I should.
He happens to approach me then, volleying the ball from one hand to the next. “How about it, G? Want to take me on in a little scrimmage? Think you can score on me first before I score on you?” He winks.
“Sure,” I say, halfheartedly, still stuck in my head about the scar. I want to tell him, so he can assure me my instinct is wrong. This is Parker. Not some criminal. But I don’t say anything, shaking it off. There’s no way he could have anything to do with the attacks or criminal activity at the docks.
I shift gears fast and put it out of my mind. Once we enter the sandy court, I decide to give myself a competitive advantage by removing my denim cutoff shorts. I shake my ass in front of him as I shimmy them down my legs.
Coughing noises come from Jackson, standing behind me. “Uh. What do you think you are doing, flashing that beautiful ass at me and every other man out here?”
“Leveling the playing field, hotshot. Let’s go, or are you going to stand there and gawk all day?” I dare and chuckle. And proceed to beat him five to zero before he concedes. I whoop and holler when I win, making a huge deal of it.
He growls, glaring at me through the net where we’re standing face to face. “Now cover up before my cock busts through the seams of my board shorts.”
“And if I don’t?” I tilt my head, biting my bottom lip, and glance down at his ever-growing bulge.
“I’ll take you over my shoulder and dunk you in the ocean.”
“You wouldn’t dare. Jackson, do you have any idea what that water would do to my hair? It’s frizzy enough as it is today. Besides, the doctor said to be careful getting my stitches wet until about seven days, remember?”
“Are you going to cover up that sexy body of yours then?” His lips twitch and curve into a sinful grin.
“Nope.”
“You’ve been warned.” He ducks under the net, but I’m fast and evade, dashing off down the beach with a yelp, half scared, half laughing. I’m proud of myself for giving him a run for his money, at least until he catches me fifty yards or so away from our friends. Powerful arms scoop me up, and he heads straight for the water.
“Jackson, so help me, I’ll smother you in your sleep if my head gets wet.” My screech is only met with his howl. I have visions of the next headline in my newspaper. The Buzz Owner Suffocates Local Hero.
As his feet splash in the water, I’m rethinking this entire situation-ship. What did I see in him? Would we always be at odds, drive each other to the absolute brink of insanity, and would we survive it?
Finally, he comes to a halt. “Relax, darlin’. I only wanted to get you alone at last.” He slides me down his body until my feet land in between his in the sand and an inch of water. He pulls my body tight against him, his hands cupping the globes of my ass and says, “At last, I can do this.”
Our lips crash together like a tsunami. The beach activity, the families with their shouting kids and yapping dogs, the entire town washes away leaving the two of us alone to explore this tide of lust. Caught in his intoxicating embrace, he’s my lifeline. I lose myself in the storm of his passion, and I’m perfectly content to stay there, adrift with him forever.
When he moans and separates our lips at last, he says, “Don’t move.”
I feel why; a hard rod twitches against my tummy.
I chuckle. “I like having this effect on you. But if you wanted a kiss so badly, why didn’t you just say so back there and kiss me? Or… are you not ready yet to tell our friends about us?”
“I don’t care when our friends find out.” He shrugs. “Call me selfish, but I guess I just want you to myself a little longer.”
“Selfish.” I grin and kiss him again. “That makes two of us.”