Rough Love (Tannen Boys 1)

Standing in front of me, he’s so much more than I remember. Larger and sexier, but stonier and colder. It’s messing with me, my head and my body at odds in their responses, and I don’t know which to listen to.

The confused uncertainty breeds anger, and I don’t give a thought to the words that spout forth from my mouth. The unfiltered rain feels cleansing, even as snarled and ugly as it is.

“Seriously? It was almost ten years ago, Bruce. Something tells me you haven’t been locked away, pining for some girl you used to know.” I let my eyes drop heavily over every inch of him. “No, you’ve probably been just fine without me.” It’s an accusation that I know more than I’m letting on—not about now but about back then.

His upper lip curls. “Jealousy looks good on you. See something you like, baby?”

He poses, holding his arms wide to let me get an unobstructed view of his body in all its glory. But the sarcastic endearment stabs my heart so painfully and suddenly that I can’t stop the gasp before it passes my lips. I cross my arms over myself protectively.

“Don’t do that.”

I mean the nickname he used to call me by, but deep inside, I know I don’t want to answer his question because I do see something I like.

A lot of somethings I like.

Six feet, three inches of tanned and tattooed muscle, maybe a bit bigger than the 240 he used to be, but even harder, if possible. Dark hair curling from underneath his cap and a dusting of stubble across his cheeks and sharp jawline. Full lips that, even though they’re not smiling, look kissable and soft. Large hands that could span my waist or lift me into his arms with ease. And I know that behind that zipper is a thick cock that stretched me the very first time.

Even as what he’s grown into registers in my mind, I can feel his dark eyes licking over me. Does he like what he sees now? In some ways, I’m the same blonde and blue-eyed girl he once knew every inch of. In other ways, I’ve changed so much. I’ve got curves I didn’t used to have, my hair is shorter and more practical, and I’m already battling the faint lines trying to appear on my forehead. And that’s just the stuff on the surface. More has changed inside me than outside. But his gaze sears me, rooting me in place as he leisurely looks his fill.

I’m definitely hot and bothered, and it’s not anger now. But I wasn’t enough once, and that was when I was whole. The woman I am now, with shatters throughout my soul that have been repaired with determination and grit, is definitely not enough.

I can’t do this, especially not with him when he’s got the clear advantage. Flirting or even playing at it in antagonism has stakes that are simply way too high.

I take a steadying breath, willing my shoulders to drop and my eyes to lift to meet his. This is just like a negotiation at work. Stay cool and calm, and never let the other guy see you sweat.

“Bruce, you don’t know me anymore.” I can see his mouth opening to interrupt me, and I hold up a staying hand. “And I don’t know you. It’s been a long time, and we have months of practices and games coming up. I don’t want things to be uncomfortable . . . for Cooper. You and I are adults. We can handle it, but I need this to be okay for my son. He wants to play football and I want to give him that.”

It’s all I have. Blunt honesty laid bare at his feet with only a shred of hope that he won’t destroy Cooper’s dream because of our past.

He looks across the field, and I follow his sightline, watching Cooper and Liam. They’ve worn themselves out and are lying sprawled out in the grass, pointing at the streaks of clouds painting the sky as the sun sets.

“Where’s his Dad, Allyson? Who’s his dad?” The questions are gritted from behind clenched teeth, and the muscle in his jaw pops out beneath the shadow of his beard. His arms resume their position across his chest, and I wonder if it’s a defense mechanism, like he’s preparing himself for my answer. But there’s no way he cares, not after all these years.

I blink against the sting in my eyes, not looking at Bruce but keeping my attention on Cooper. “I shouldn’t answer that, but I will. He doesn’t have one. I’m all he’s got. All he’s ever had. All that mattered, anyway.”

Furious at the tears escaping, I swipe at my eyes with the back of my hands as I walk across the field, leaving Bruce behind me. I’m not crying for the loss of my ex-husband and Cooper’s father. He can rot in hell for all I care. The tears are for my son who will never have more than me.