Chapter Thirty-Four
Pepper
I wake before the sun, in the same favorite position in which I’d fallen asleep. Being spooned by Clay. His arm is heavy around me, his big hand palming my breast. His erection rests against my butt, and his thick thighs cradle the backs of mine. I lie still, reveling in the gentle puffs of his warm breath on my shoulder and neck, the way his chest and stomach press against me with every inhalation. I want to melt into him and stay in his arms forever. But time is moving quickly, and before long he’ll be reporting to his team. I’m still trying to work out what that will mean for us. I’ve never considered myself needy, but I’ve gotten used to spending so much time with him, I hate the idea of us being apart. And his family? I’m falling just as hard for them as I have for Clay. They’re warm, loving, and kind, and they value the things I treasure most. Family and helping others.
Last night when we headed downstairs to watch Heart Stories , a truly incredible documentary about our fragmented world, I expected to find a posh media room. Because who has a media room in their home? But it was just a big room with a projection TV and several worn leather love seats, with butt indentations from years of use, blankets draped over the backs, and throw pillows with kids’ names scrawled in permanent marker on them. The walls were covered with dozens of photos of Clay and his family throughout the years, but none of them as adults. There were pictures of him as a little boy sitting high up in a tree he’d climbed and arm in arm with his siblings, all of them covered in mud. There were pictures of Clay huddled in the grass with dark-skinned kids, holding a football, and of his family around bonfires and dinner tables with dozens of people of varying nationalities. I realized there were no pictures anywhere in the house of Clay playing professional ball or of his siblings in their careers, and I asked his parents why. His mother said, Because at home we’re not a producer, a football champ, or a woman who runs an entertainment empire. We’re a family, and we leave all the noise behind.
Talk about a wall of love. This house is built from them.
Clay stirs behind me, hugging me tight. “Your heart is beating fast.”
“You’re naked against me. Of course it is.”
He kisses my shoulder, sliding his hand down my belly and between my legs. I inhale shakily, his touch alighting flames within my core. “Are you sure my girl isn’t overthinking?”
He knows me so well now. It’s a blessing and a curse. But I don’t want to get lost in logistics when we’re having such a beautiful weekend. “Only about how much I want you inside me.”
He presses a kiss to my neck. “Think you can be quiet?”
“I can try.”
He nips at my shoulder, and I shift higher as he guides his cock to my entrance and thrusts into me. I moan. “Shh, baby.” He thrusts again, sending sparks shooting through me, and I swallow a moan, my inner muscles clenching around his shaft. A husky growl rumbles from his lips. “So tight and greedy for me.”
He moves his hand from between my legs, guiding my hand there. “Touch yourself while I fuck you.” He knows his dirty demands get me even hotter, and pushes two fingers into my mouth. “Suck them like they’re my cock.” My entire body ignites, and I alternate between sucking and swirling my tongue along his fingers as he pumps them in and out of my mouth. His hips thrust harder and faster, and I work myself to the same pace. He seals his mouth over the crook of my neck, licking and kissing and sucking. Scintillating sensations come at me from everywhere, riddling me with desire. It pulses inside me, burning beneath my skin, until my body aches and throbs with the need to come. I whimper around his fingers. He reads me perfectly, thrusting faster as he sinks his teeth into my shoulder, sending me spiraling into ecstasy. With the next thrust, he follows me over, pumping and grinding, his muffled groans coalescing with my stifled cries.
After we float down from the high, he turns me in his arms and whispers, “ My love ,” and then he kisses me, holding me like I’m too precious to ever let go.
A long while later, we clean up and dress in our #teamplay sweatshirts to watch the sunrise. I put on leggings and he puts on sweats.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I whisper as we gather blankets.
“Absolutely.”
We sneak quietly downstairs and out the French doors in the great room to the deck. We’re met with the cold breeze from the sea and the scent of a bonfire, and find his grandparents cuddled beneath blankets on the circular sofa surrounding the fire pit.
His grandmother lifts her head from his grandfather’s shoulder and says, “We wondered if you lovebirds would get up this early.”
“Mind if we join you?” Clay asks.
“Not at all,” his grandfather says in that endearing sandpaper voice. “Get comfy and keep your sweet gal warm. We’ve got about half an hour before the sun graces us with her beauty.”
We settle in on the couch, bundling up beneath the blankets, with the fire warming us. As Clay puts his arm around me, drawing me tight against his side, his parents come out the French doors. They’re wearing thick sweaters over turtlenecks and jeans and carrying their own blankets. It makes me happy to have more time with them.
“Looks like we weren’t the only ones with a good idea,” his father says. “Morning, everyone.”
We all greet him at once.
Clay’s mother kisses the top of his head. “Morning, honey.”
“Morning, Mom,” Clay says.
She puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Good morning,” I say as they come around the couch.
They sit between his grandparents and us, and his father tucks a blanket around their backs and another over their laps. Then he puts his arm around Clay’s mother, drawing her tight against him, and kisses her temple, just like Clay did with me. I catch a loving look between his grandparents. It’s no wonder Clay is so affectionate.
“What a nice way to greet the day,” his mother says.
“It’s the best way.” Second only to making love with your son.
“I’ve gotten more sunrise photos from Clay this past month than ever before,” his grandfather says.
“It’s not the sunrise that’s so special, Gramps,” Clay says. “It’s who you watch them with.”
My heart squeezes.
“That is very true,” his grandmother says. “I’m glad you get to share it with Pepper. I never heard the story about how you two got together.”
“You know I had to chase her for a year, Gram,” Clay says. “She wasn’t interested in me. Can you believe that?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not exactly true, and I never wanted you to chase me.”
“She did,” Clay says. “She just didn’t know it.”
“Okay, I admit it. You’re not wrong.”
His grandmother watches us fondly. “What kept you from going out with him?”
“I thought I knew who he was based on his reputation, and I didn’t give him a fair shot. Then I got to know him in Paris, and I realized how wrong I was.”
“She tried to break my heart when she left Paris, so I chased her to Virginia, and I refused to leave until she admitted we belonged together.” Clay flashes a coy smile. “Right, Pep?”
“You were determined.”
“It was the only way to break down your walls.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” his grandfather says, eyeing his wife. “This one made me jump through hoops to get her to admit what I knew from the very first time I saw her.”
“Oh, Bradshaw. You got your girl. Let it go.” His grandmother reaches up and touches his cheek. “You know I love you.”
“I know you put up with me.” He kisses her, and we all chuckle.
“If I’ve learned one thing about the Braden clan, it’s that they are fiercely loyal and relentlessly determined,” his mother says.
“When a Braden finds their true love, they’ll stop at nothing to make them theirs,” his father adds. “Just look at Victory.”
“I believe that,” I say. “My sister Morgyn is married to Graham, and he’s been all in from day one.”
“Well, they’re not all in from day one,” his mother says. “Flynn was so thrown off by his feelings for Sutton, he tried to get her fired. Some Bradens need more time to process and understand their feelings than others.”
“So do some Montgomerys,” Clay says, and then he kisses me.
“Your father told me he’s going in on your new foundation with you and Seth,” his grandfather says. “I understand it was Pepper’s idea.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I say quickly. “We came up with it together.”
“Guess you’re both bleeding hearts,” his grandfather teases.
“You say that like you’re not one,” his grandmother says.
His grandfather scoffs.
“I’m proud to be a bleeding heart,” I say. “And I’m glad Clay helps others. That’s one of the many reasons I’m with him.”
“Better keep the other reasons to yourself, babe. It would be inappropriate to name them,” Clay jokes.
The doors open again, and we all turn to see Sutton, wrapped in a blanket and wearing fuzzy slippers, and Flynn and Seth, both dressed in hoodies and sweats. “Hey, look who’s here,” his father cheers.
“You’re having a party without us?” Seth jokes.
“They’re probably talking about us,” Flynn teases as they all squeeze onto the couch.
The French doors open and Noah comes out wearing shorts and a hoodie, his hair askew. “So we’re really doing this? At the butt crack of dawn?”
“Nobody made you come downstairs,” Sutton says.
Noah comes around the couch. “I heard you guys going down the hall and had FOMO.” He squeezes in between me and his mother, flashes an endearing smile, and lifts the blanket from my lap, scooting closer to get under it.
“Dude, you better keep your hands to yourself,” Clay warns.
“It’s not his hands I’d be worried about,” Seth says.
Noah smirks. Clay glowers, and his brothers crack up.
The door flies open again, and Victory runs out of the house bundled up in a blanket, wearing a hat and fuzzy socks. “I was worried I missed the sunrise.” She stands behind me and shoves Noah’s shoulder. “Move over.”
“If you say so.” Noah scoots even closer to me.
Victory smacks his shoulder. “ Other way , mongrel.” He curses under his breath and scoots away from me. Victory climbs over the back of the couch and wiggles between us. She points at Clay and says, “You owe me one.”
Everyone laughs.
“It’s good to have everyone home to celebrate Flynn and Sutton’s big event,” his father says.
“Here comes a dad speech,” Seth jokes.
“It’s a short one,” his father promises. “Your mother and I are proud of all of you, and not just because you’re more competitive than we could ever be and have risen to the tops of your fields.”
Clay and his siblings exchange incredulous glances.
“Did our father just say he and Mom aren’t competitive?” Clay asks.
“Yeah. What kind of BS is that, Dad?” Flynn asks.
“Who do you think we learned from?” Seth asks. “You dragged us all over creation in order to discover new species of animals and get award-winning photographs.”
“That’s a different type of competitive,” he says. “We weren’t out there publicly clawing our way to the top against the world’s best athletes or billion-dollar entrepreneurs or putting out documentaries for the world to pick apart. You kids have the type of courage that blows us away on a daily basis. And you’ve all used your success to help others. That’s what we’re most proud of.”
“You taught us that, too,” Victory says. “When we were traveling, not a day went by when we weren’t doing something for another family or for animals or for the community.”
“That’s true, honey,” his mother says. “I think what your father is trying to say is that as parents, we can lead by example, but how kids turn out is kind of a crapshoot, and we got lucky. We’re proud of how you all turned out.”
Clay holds me a little tighter, and I can tell how much his father’s praise means to him. As I look around the fire, I see how much it means to each of his siblings, too. Having that support, someone who’s always in your corner, is everything. I know how that feels, because my father has been that person for me. But now it’s Clay. The apple did not fall far from the tree.
After watching the sunrise, while Clay helps his family make breakfast, I go upstairs and shower. I dry my hair and dress in my favorite leggings and a comfy oversized cable-knit sweater Clay packed for me. I still can’t get over how sneaky he was to have pulled this off, or how incredible this weekend has been. I have no idea how we’re getting home.
I head downstairs wondering if we’re in for another helicopter ride. I hear his family talking, and then I hear Clay and Seth in a heated conversation and stop before I reach the bottom step.
“What the hell have you been doing all this time?” Seth asks sternly. “Distracting yourself with her to avoid making a decision?”
My chest constricts. What decision?
“Let it go,” Clay seethes. “It’s none of your business.”
“Clay,” Seth pushes.
“Jesus Christ, Seth. Maybe I was using her as a distraction. Who fucking cares?”
Blood rushes to my ears, and I feel sick. I run upstairs on shaky legs. Tears blur my vision as flashbacks to my college heartbreak slam into me. I can’t think, can’t hear past my hammering heart. I have to get out of here. I order a ride to the airport. The car is seven minutes away. Thank God. I throw my things into our bag with trembling hands and hurry into the bathroom to get my toiletries, shoving them into the bag. I thought this was real. I trusted him. Clay’s voice roars through my head. Maybe I was using her as a distraction. Who fucking cares? I zip the bag, feeling like I’m going to throw up.
I rush down the front staircase and reach for the front door. But I stop myself. I’m not doing this again. I’m not running and hiding. I never made that jerk pay for what he did to me in college. I’m not going to be that scared girl again.
I drop my bag, lift my chin, and with my heart in my throat, I march into the kitchen. Clay is pacing, and his family is sitting at the table chatting amiably. That cuts me to my core. They heard every word he said. It’s college all over again.
“Excuse me.” My voice comes out strangled.
Clay spins around, his face a mask of distress. “Reckless? What’s wrong?”
He hurries over to me, but I hold up my hand, stopping him. I look at his family, and my heart breaks anew. “Thank you for a lovely time, but I have to go.”
“Go? Go where?” Clay asks as his family gets up from the table, confusion riddling their faces.
“Oh, honey, we’re sorry to see you go. Is everything okay?” his mother asks.
Nothing is okay! It takes all of my strength to hold myself together. “I have to go home. I called for a ride.” I rush out of the kitchen, making a beeline for the front door.
“Pepper, wait .” Clay follows me out. “What’s going on?”
I turn on him, my heart shredding in my chest as his family piles out the front door, just as the car I ordered pulls into the driveway. It’s all too much. Tears break free, and the truth pours out, fast and cutting. “I trusted you. You made me believe this was real.”
He steps closer, splaying his hands. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know what decision you have to make, but I am nobody’s distraction.” I head for the car.
One of his brothers says, “Oh, shit.”
“Pepper, stop !” Clay runs after me. “Guys, block the car!”
His brothers bolt past me, and Noah dives onto the hood. The driver gets out of the car, shouting at him. Flynn and Seth run to Noah’s defense, and their words turn to white noise.
“Don’t do this to me, Clay,” I warn. “All I ever asked for was honesty. I heard you tell Seth you used me as a distraction, and I heard you say Who fucking cares? That’s not love. That’s…” I turn away and cover my face as sobs steal my voice.
“You’re right. I did say that.” Clay steps in front of me and moves my hands away from my face, his eyes imploring me.
I grit my teeth to try to keep them from chattering.
“But you didn’t hear the rest of what I said. I said maybe I was using you as a distraction in Paris, because at the beginning it was probably true. I’d just come off a shitty loss, and my contract is ending, and I have to decide whether I’m going to keep playing football. With my shoulder acting up and another guy gunning for my position, I couldn’t think straight. I needed a distraction. When Dash suggested I meet him in Paris, I said no . Then he said you were coming.” The muscles in his jaw bunch, his eyes serious. “The only thing that got my head out of that fucked-up place was the thought of seeing you. And the reason I said who fucking cares is because the distraction didn’t last. It might have started out that way, but I fell head over cleats in love with you. I told you I’ve been falling for you since day one, and I meant it. We are real , baby. If I’m guilty of anything, it’s not telling you about the contract extension, but I didn’t lie. My love for you is as real as the ground we’re standing on.”
“It’s true ,” Seth shouts. “He told me he’s madly in love with you.”
“He did,” his grandfather says. “The boy’s a goner.”
Swallowing against my thickening throat, I swipe at my tears, choking out, “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just talk to me about it?”
“Because I’m terrified of making the wrong decision,” he says vehemently. “The egotistical asshole in me wants to go out on top and play another season. I hope the glove you’re making will work, but I’m scared of permanently injuring my shoulder, or playing shitty because of it and letting everyone down. But I’m also sick of all the public bullshit that goes along with playing, which doesn’t just affect me. It affects you. And football has been my life for so long, I’m afraid of retiring and not knowing who I am without it. But most of all, I’m scared of losing you.”
More tears fall at the gut-wrenching pain in his voice and the overwhelming love in his eyes. “That’s a lot for anyone to try to figure out alone. Why do you think you would lose me?”
“Because you made it clear that you don’t want a long-distance relationship, and if I decide to play, we practice in Jersey. I’ll be gone more than half that time.”
“Don’t you know that’s changed? You’ve chased me. I think I can do a little chasing. I love you, Clay. I love us , and the life we’re building together. I respect your career, and more importantly, I want you to be happy. If that means playing for another year or ten , then I support that and I’ll make time to be there on the weekends.”
One of his brothers hisses, “ Yes! ” and “ Aww s” ring out from Sutton and the other women.
“If I play, the schedule is grueling,” he says.
“Where there’s a will…”
He smiles, his brow furrowing. “I can’t promise there won’t be more annoying headlines. Especially if I fuck up on the field. They’ll try to blame you and our relationship.”
“I survived being your flavor of the month and being embarrassed by everyone I grew up with. I think I can handle just about anything at this point.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “You and I have both been alone for a long time. I had no idea who I was outside of work. You showed me that it’s okay to figure things out as we go. Football isn’t who you are. It’s what you do. I know who you are, and your family does, too. You’re a loving, smart, generous, competitive man, and you’re allowed to be unsure when you make a big change. Love is supposed to be scary, and football was your first and longest-lasting love. It’s going to be scary no matter when you do it, but you won’t be doing it alone. Whether you retire tomorrow, next year, or five years from now, I’ll be here to help you take the next step.”
“God, I love you.” He draws me into his arms, and as his lips cover mine, cheers and whistles ring out around us.
“So much for my chance with Pepper,” Noah jokes, and his family converges on us.
“I’m sorry for the outburst,” I say as his mother embraces me.
“No need to apologize, honey,” she says. “Real love takes hard work. You just stole another piece of our hearts.”
We’re passed from one warm embrace to another. When I finally land back in Clay’s loving arms and those blue eyes find mine, the pieces of my fractured heart come back together, and I know that no matter what Clay decides, we’re on the same team.