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Authors: Ellen Hartman

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BOOK: Out of Bounds
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It reminded her that she was mad. He was going to win, but he was not going to hand her a freebie. When she shot, she bounced the ball off the backboard, missing on purpose and letting him get the rebound. Two could play the deliberate screwup game.

He was taking his time, dribbling with his back to her while she sweated to keep up with him. He could have skirted her and they both knew it. He was messing around, keeping things nice, the way her mom did. She wanted him to notice how hard she was working. She wanted him to get serious and
compete.

This time she gave him a real shove, her hand low on his back. His skin was hot through the thin fabric of his shirt and she pushed harder than she should have, relishing the power in her body against his. Her fingers slid dangerously low over the waistband of his shorts.

He noticed that one, even though he didn’t stumble.
Damn.
He put the ball through his legs and spun to face her. He kept up his dribble as he studied her, the same sharp intelligence in his eyes she’d noticed before when he was grilling her about her mom. It was the moment when she should have backed off. She didn’t need him to think about her or her mom. She needed to be background, less than background, while she got her mother out of this mess. He spun again, putting his back to her, and then he backed up and looked at her over his shoulder as he slowed his dribble. Was he daring her to do it again?

Posy moved closer, drawn in against her will by his taunt. He picked up speed, but she stayed with him. She put one hand on his left shoulder and used the other to grab a handful of shirt near his hip. With a powerful twist, he pulled away and then dribbled past her, but not before she registered his biceps and the muscles in his waist flexing against her fingers.

He scored.

She didn’t care. The focus of the game had changed. All she wanted was another opportunity to touch him. Playing this game with Wes, she wasn’t an overgrown, overaggressive freak of nature. He was bigger and stronger and he could take everything she had to give. He didn’t just take it, he asked for it. He wanted it. Wanted it all.

* * *

S
HE
WAS
PLAYING
DIRTY
. E
very time she connected with him, an elbow to the side, her foot on the instep of his shoe, her hand on his hip, he felt another jolt of adrenaline.

His skin was alive with electricity, anticipating her touch, and then jumping when it came. He was so turned on, it was hard to concentrate on the game, but when his focus slipped, she took advantage.

She kept upping the ante, hitting harder, holding more blatantly, almost as if she was daring him to stop her. But he didn’t want to stop her.

He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but he knew he wasn’t dominating her. It was as if he was absorbing her strength.

She was losing and he thought about pulling back and letting her win, but she didn’t want a pass. His brother used to do that to him when he was little. He wouldn’t insult Posy that way. He took a shot, jumping up and over her, but he missed, and not on purpose. He knocked down the rebound, but couldn’t control it, and the ball careened away. She touched it, but missed and then dived as it headed out of bounds. She batted at the ball, driving it over her shoulder and directly into his nose. The ball bounced off his face and off the court, landing near her bag under the picnic table.

“Holy—” He clapped his hand over his face as blood dripped onto the toe of his shoe. “Out on me,” he muttered. “I fully intend to finish kicking your butt as soon as I can staunch the bleeding.”

He sat on the asphalt and pulled the neck of his shirt up to press against his nose. Sweat trickled down his back and dried on his legs, the chill reminding him that it was still early spring. Good. He needed to cool down.

She was quiet and he didn’t know what to expect when he finally looked up. The Posy from the meeting—contained, cool and businesslike? Or the bold, antagonistic...sizzling woman he’d just been sweating with on the court.

He thought the blood might have stopped, so he risked tilting his head up. She had one hand over her mouth and he could swear he saw tears in her eyes.

Damn it.
His
face was hurt. Posy wasn’t allowed to cry. Absolutely not.

“You arrange this kind of orientation for all the new Kirklanders?” he asked.

She didn’t respond. She was so still, but tense and poised away as if she was about to bolt.

He patted the ground next to him. “Sit. It’s making my neck hurt to look up at you.” Deacon would kill him if he reactivated the concussion from the accident.

She sank onto the macadam near him, but not close. She bent her knees with her elbows propped across them. “I’m sorry,” she said simply.

He touched his nose to confirm that the blood had stopped. It hadn’t been much of a nosebleed in the end. A few spatters on the neck of his shirt. He lifted the hem and wiped it across his hand to get the blood off his fingers.

“Sorry,” he repeated. He hoped she wasn’t one of those people who got sick at the sight of blood.

“You’re ruining your shirt.”

“If I were an old guy, I’d have a handkerchief.” He shrugged. “Guys my age have to use what we can find.”

“But—”

“Damage is done.” He dragged his shirt off over his head and wadded it up behind him. “Let’s talk about what just happened.”

She jerked backward. “I said I was sorry.”

“No, I meant what happened between us.”

She was on her feet almost before he finished speaking.

“I got caught up in the game,” she said. Her eyes were fixed on a point just over his head.

“I got caught up, too,” he said. But it hadn’t been in the game.

“Listen, I have to go. My mom will be in touch as soon as she gets back. A few days at the most. You have my cell, but texting’s better. Or email. Email is fine.”

He pushed himself up.

“We don’t have to talk about what it was. But I had a good time.” He wanted to be sure she heard him. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, picked up her bag and gave him a quick wave over her shoulder.

“Hey, Posy,” he called. She stopped. “We’re doing an Equipment Day on Sunday. It’s this thing the Fallon centers do where they give sports gear away to kids. My brother and his wife will be here and we’d really like to thank the folks who ran the fundraiser. You think your mom will be back by then?”

“I’ll find out,” she said before walking away.

Well,
he thought,
that was instructive.
Posy Jones was an enigma. A tall, aggressive, fierce enigma.

With really sexy taste in bras.

CHAPTER SIX

P
OSY
LEFT
THE
PLAYGROUND
with as much dignity as she could manage. Luckily, her role in quality assurance required her to occasionally act a part. She didn’t look back at Wes as she walked to her Jeep. As soon as she was around the side of the building out of his sight, she picked up speed until she was jogging when she reached her parking spot.

She pulled out, allowing herself one glance toward the court where she saw Wes, stretched out full-length on the foul line. She shivered because, God help her, she wanted very badly to be stretched out under him.

Her cell phone rang and she grabbed it, hoping it would be her mom telling her everything was settled.

It was Maddy.

“I’m so glad you called. I just made a huge mistake.”

“Did someone find out about the money?”

“No.” Posy banged her fist on the steering wheel. “Not yet.”

Maddy didn’t answer right away. “Can you come out here to the Knoll?”

“I’d love to see you. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

The Knoll was about ten minutes outside Kirkland. It was a pretty drive, but Posy spent the whole time reliving the debacle of her game with Wes.

She asked at the desk and was told she could find her cousin in the grotto carved into the hillside under the main chapel. She took the outside route, walking down the shallow stone stairs while watching a pair of sisters pushing hand mowers across the lawn in front of the visitor center.

The air inside the grotto was cool and infused with the scent of the thousands of candles that had been burned there over years of services. Posy inhaled deeply. Ever since she’d been a little girl following the responses in the missal, the familiar traditions of spiritual ritual had calmed her.

“Posy,” Maddy called softly. “I’m up here.”

Her cousin, dressed in the loose woven pants and smock the sisters wore for work, was kneeling in front of the small altar at the left side of the grotto. Visitors lit candles there for special intentions and several were flickering in the dim light. Maddy had a case of candles open on the floor next to her and she was gently prying spent stubs off the stone and replacing them with fresh ones. She and Maddy were the same age and had always been as close as sisters.

Maddy handed her a thin, metal paint scraper. “You want to help me work on these?”

Posy grabbed the tool and set to work on a candle stub in front of her. It wasn’t as hard to remove as she’d expected and it flipped in the air when she shoved the scraper under it.

“Sorry,” she said as she gathered the fallen candle and put it into the discard bucket.

Maddy slid her own scraper under a candle and lifted it out. “The reason I called—”

“Wait, can I tell you what happened with Wes first? If I don’t spit it out now I won’t be able to think.”

Posy remembered the charge she’d gotten when she pushed her hand against Wes’s back and he didn’t move. Her hand slipped and she knocked a fresh candle flying. She managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

“Something happened with Wes?” Maddy asked. “Absolutely tell me that story.”

“What? Why are you saying it like that?”

“Just... There’s been a dry spell since Pete.”

“It was recovery time. Pete was—”

“A nice guy, but not right for you.”

“I was going to say a wimp and a subpar lover, but we can go with your phrasing if it fits in better with your duties as a professional nice person.”

“I was nice long before I took my vows,” Maddy said. “But we’re talking about Wes.”

She bent to get a new candle and Posy took the opportunity to rush out the story while her cousin wasn’t looking at her.

“I went to see him. I was going to bluff him. Get in and get out.”

“Get to the mistake, Posy. I’m dying.”

“I think I came on to him...?”

Maddy raised her eyebrows and looked impressed. Posy stared at the lit candle in front of her, remembering how Wes’s dark blue eyes mocked at her as he wiped the blood off his face with the hem of his T-shirt. Then she remembered the casual, but incredibly sexy way he took off his shirt and continued to sit there with every single muscle and contour of his body in view while they
chatted.

“You...came on to him?”

“Can you talk about this stuff at work?” Posy asked, suddenly aware that they were in the grotto where the very air felt like church. “They don’t monitor your conversations, do they?”

“The sisters are aware that people have sexual feelings, Posy. The vow is celibacy, not prudery. Tell me what happened.”

“I was angry and feeling trapped by all this stuff with my mom, and Wes. He’s, oh, man, you know the guy he is. He’s handsome and successful, he just retired from playing professional basketball, and he knows how to use that smile. Five bucks says he was prom king in high school, the fraternity social chair and the guy every one of his girlfriends’ moms was hoping they’d end up with. He’s never struggled for anything in his life. Never not been loved. He’s that guy. And you know that guy is never worth a second look.”

“And yet, you came on to him.”

“I know,” Posy practically wailed. “He said we should shoot around so we did. He’s tall, Maddy, and strong.
I kept trying to push him around. And then I realized I didn’t care so much about pushing him around. I mean, I wanted to push him around but it was because I wanted to touch him.”

“Wow.”

“Right.”

She might be confessing to Maddy right now, and might be full of shame that she’d lost control, but later tonight, alone in her room, she’d be remembering exactly how he’d felt under her hands.

“So did he...respond? Reciprocate?” Maddy gave a short laugh. “Did you have to lock the gym doors?”

“We were outside.... I hit him in the face with the ball.” Posy shuddered. She could hear the smack all over again. “It didn’t break his nose. But there was blood.”

Maddy dropped the candle she was holding and wrinkled her nose. “A bloody nose? In the middle of your big seduction? Oh, Posy.”

Which got on his T-shirt. Which he’d taken off.

“Hard to keep up a seduction once there’s blood,” her cousin added.

“It wasn’t even a seduction, though,” Posy said. “I wasn’t seducing him, it was—wild.”

Posy wished she could roll the tape back and get a redo on the whole day. “I should have brought him a cupcake from the Lemon Drop or potpourri from Wonders.”

“That’s what I’m curious about,” Maddy said. “You’re good at covering up the parts of yourself that make you uncomfortable, but this guy brought it out.” She put her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “Was he interested?”

Posy couldn’t meet her cousin’s eyes. She didn’t want Maddy to know how badly she’d wanted Wes to be interested.

“That’s beside the point,” Posy said. “My mother stole from him.”

“Can I meet Wes?”

“Why?”

“So I can have my evil way with him.” Maddy rolled her eyes. “Because I want to meet the guy who let loose your wild side.”

“I’m not going to repeat that performance.”

“But I love your wild side.”

Posy sighed.

Maddy put her scraper down and pulled a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “I’m glad you went first because I liked that story and there’s a chance you’re going to stop talking to me right now.”

Posy waited.

“Your mom checked in this morning for a silent retreat. She gave me a note for you.”

Maddy held the note out and Posy took it. It was the same thick paper with the Christmas border and Wonders logo she’d used for the first note. Was it only a few hours ago that Posy read that one and counted down the days until she’d be out of this trouble?

Dear Posy,

I’m sorry I lied to you. Aunt Denise wasn’t able to lend me the money, but I couldn’t face telling you that. I am going to continue my retreat until the police come for me, unless you have a better idea.

Your loving mother,

Holly

P.S. Give Angel a kiss for me.

“Holly?”

“We allow our silent retreat guests to choose a name that’s symbolic of their journey.”

“What is she thinking? She’s waiting for the police to get here? Does she know what happens after the police get to you? Can you imagine my mom in jail? No,” Posy said. “I have to fix this.”

Maddy took the note from her and read it through. “You don’t
have
to fix it.”

“I should let my mom go to jail?”

“Your life isn’t your own as long as you’re being pulled back into hers every few months.” Maddy put her scraper down and set another candle into a spot on the rocky shelf in front of her. Then she faced Posy. “I think you’re afraid of yourself. You’ve spent your whole life trying to be smaller and less competitive and more like the daughter Trish thought she wanted. Someone who fit in and didn’t make waves and kept everything nice. But something about this guy stirred up the real Posy. You have a chance to get to know a guy who might be really good for you. Tell him the truth and let your mom work this out herself. Don’t let her stand in your way.”

Posy’s palms felt hot and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

“If he wasn’t scared by you, maybe it’s time for you to figure out why you are.”

“Maybe he’s a kinky weirdo who likes the taste of his own blood.”

“Maybe,” Maddy said. “Or maybe he wasn’t scared because he’s a guy who likes a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to fight for it. Your mom is hiding out here, Posy, hoping everything will work out somehow. Are you hiding, too?”

“It’s not that easy, Maddy.”

“I was there right with you when we were kids and you were always on the outside. I know how hard Trish made it for you because she doesn’t understand you. But you’re twenty-eight. You need someone to stand up to you—someone strong enough to stand with you.” Maddy touched her shoulder. “Maybe Wes isn’t that guy. But you deserve to find out.”

“I can’t let my mom go to jail,” Posy said. “I’m going to help her one more time and then that’s it. I’m going to get a loan to cover this and pay myself back when I sell the house.”

“You’re sure?”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

Maddy hugged her. “I have a little money. A bit more than three thousand dollars. Let me lend it to you.”

Posy hated taking her cousin’s money, but she was in no shape to turn down a loan.

“Thank you. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. Where is my mom? I need to talk to her.”

“She’s requested no visitors and no calls. I can’t let you in.” Her cousin’s mouth twisted and she sighed. “It’s my job to help her set boundaries around her retreat.”

Which Trish would know. She was using Maddy as a shield. “She knows I won’t get you in trouble. Can you deliver a note?”

Maddy took a pen out of her back pocket. Posy flipped the note from her mom over and wrote:

Dear Mom,

I will pay the Fallons their money. Don’t tell anyone what you did. I suppose that won’t be difficult while you’re on your SILENT RETREAT. I would appreciate it if you could wrap your retreat up quickly so you can come home and help me deal with your house and Wonders.

If you don’t, I’m selling everything.

Love,

Posy

* * *

W
HEN
P
OSY
DROVE
BACK
to her mom’s house, she kept the radio off. She wasn’t really crying, but for some reason, tears kept leaking down her cheeks. Every time one escaped, she rubbed it away with the heel of her hand, rubbing hard. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want any of it. Her mom’s mess was enough, but now she’d met a guy she really liked who was making her look deeper at herself—and her mother—than she was prepared to look.

She opened the front door and waited for Angel to rush her. When the dog didn’t appear, Posy wondered if she was lying in ambush somewhere, ready to leap out from under a chair to attack her ankles or steal something else from her bag. But the dog still didn’t appear when she poured kibble into her bowl in the kitchen. She kicked the bowl a few times to make the food rattle, but no Angel.

“I don’t like your poodle games, Angel!” she called. There was no answer from the silent house. No skittering of tiny toenails on the floor of the hall.

She walked through the house and finally, in the laundry room, found a window where the screen had been pushed out from the inside. She pulled the curtain to the side.

She was shocked to see Angel staring back at her from under a fern near the grill on the edge of the patio. She went back to the kitchen and opened the door to call Angel. The dog came out from under the plants, her head cocked to one side. Angel’s mixed heritage was most evident in her mismatched ears, one of which flopped neatly and obediently forward. The other ear stuck straight out to the side, the long fringes of fur flying from the edges giving it the appearance of a medieval battle flag.

That one wild ear swiveled and Angel took a step toward Posy. She had a piece of shiny red fabric clutched in her teeth.

“What in the name of heaven is that?”

Posy stepped out onto the porch.

The dog dropped the fabric, barked once and took off running through the Nickersons’ yard next door—her white fur glowing in the late-evening setting sun.

Posy found a twig on the porch and used it to lift the fabric. It was a bra. Victoria’s Secret red satin with a clothespin still hanging from one strap.

For half a second she considered trying to find the bra’s owner, but couldn’t face the thought. She slid it off the stick into the garbage can at the corner of the house.

Her mom was in hiding. The dog was stealing lingerie. Posy was left holding down the ranch house.

Perfect.

* * *

E
ARLY
THE
NEXT
MORNING
, she sat at the counter in the kitchen and went over her own finances. She was a diligent saver, but unfortunately she’d just pumped almost all her money into a down payment on a condo in Rochester. The rest of her money was tied to her 401(k) account, which meant a penalty if she robbed it to pay the Fallons back. She did have a twenty-thousand-
dollar line of credit that she’d opened because she wanted to upgrade the kitchen in her new place. She could use that, plus a few thousand she had in her emergency savings and the three from Maddy.

BOOK: Out of Bounds
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