Maybe he just didn’t measure up. Maybe she was biding her time until some other man caught her eye. Brody rolled over on his back and pressed his palm to his chest, aware of the ache in his heart. He’d never loved a woman before, so he’d never risked getting hurt. For the first time in his life, he was afraid. What if she didn’t want him? Would he ever be able to forget her and move on?
He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and pushed himself to his feet. Raking his hands through his hair, he wandered over to the windows and stared out at the river and the lights twinkling from the opposite side.
If he was going to make this work, he needed a plan. Hell, Callum was the planner in the family. Maybe he ought to go to his older brother for advice. Worst-case scenario, he could always work the station. They’d have a home and Payton seemed to enjoy living there. Best case, he’d find a job that allowed them to live wherever they wanted, on the station, in Fremantle, in Manhattan, if they chose.
Sighing softly, Brody walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabbed a jug of orange juice and unscrewed the top, then took a long drink. Suddenly, he was wide awake, his mind spinning with the possibilities. If he couldn’t play, maybe he could coach. Or he could be an analyst for one of the networks. Or a sports presenter on the local news.
Brody strode into the living room and picked up the remote, then flipped through the stations until he came to ESPN Australia. The network played mostly American sports, but there was a nightly program that focused on Aussie sports. He could talk football and rugby and make a paycheck doing it. And if ESPN didn’t want him, perhaps he might convince someone to hire him at Seven Network.
He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. His coaches and friends had all told him he could find a career outside football, but he’d been too stubborn to listen to them, too angry about his injury to even consider the alternatives. But now he had a reason to get serious about his future.
He switched the telly over to a DVD of his rookie season, listening to the analysts as they described the action. His attention shifted to the twenty-year-old kid in the green guernsey. It was hard to believe he’d ever been that young. Though it was only six years ago, it seemed like a lifetime.
“What are you doing out here?”
He turned to see Payton standing in the bedroom doorway. She’d pulled on the Dockers jumper he’d bought her at the game and she looked irresistible in it, her hair a riot of curls around her face.
“Just watching some telly,” he said. He patted the sofa cushion next to him and she crossed the room and curled up beside him.
“Is this your team?” she asked.
“Yep. See, there I am. Number fifteen. Watch. I’ll score a goal.” He waited, knowing every play by heart. This was the game when he’d broken the season scoring record for rookies. “There. There it is.”
“Yay for you,” Payton said, patting his belly. “Good onya.”
He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss into her fragrant hair. “I want you to stay with me,” he murmured.
“I’m not sleepy,” she said, mistaking his request.
“No, I mean, I want you to stay with me. I want you to live with me, here, in Australia. I don’t want you to go back to the States.” He’d made the same request back at the shack that night she got lost in the bush. But then, he’d just wanted reassurance. Now, he wanted to focus on the future.
She pushed back and looked up into his eyes, her brow creased in an intense frown. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise me,” he said. “I don’t want to wake up some morning and find you gone. I want to make this work.”
She sighed softly, then glanced away. “I’m here because I want to be, Brody. If I didn’t want to be here, I’d tell you.”
“Would you? You ran out on your wedding. You didn’t tell your fiance that you didn’t want to be there.”
“That was different,” Payton said.
“How? Tell me how.”
“I-I…” She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “I should have been brave enough to tell him the truth. I don’t have any excuses for that. But I’m different now. I’m not afraid to speak up for myself, for what I want. I promise, I’ll tell you if I want to leave.”
It wasn’t the promise he was looking for, but it was as good as he was going to get. Brody would have to be satisfied that it was enough. And yet he wasn’t. Until Payton faced her family and her ex-fiance, he’d always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone to turn up and lure her back to the States.
Did he really want to live with that kind of doubt? A sensible, secure guy would tell her to go back and clear up the mess she’d made and then return to him, free of any entanglements. But Brody had never cared for any woman the way he cared for Payton. And he didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a moment, much less send her toddling back to Mr. Moneybags.
“Do you ever think about him?” Brody asked.
“Sam?”
Sam. There. She’d said his name. How many times had she said that name? How many times with love in her eyes and how many times with passion in her touch? She had a whole history with this man, a life that Brody knew nothing about.
“Never mind.” He pushed to his feet. “I don’t need to know. I really don’t want to know.” He raked his hands through his hair again, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable, standing in front of her stark naked. This was exactly why he couldn’t allow himself to believe in a future with Payton.
She might be able to handle it, but he’d surely find a way to fuck it up. “I’m going to go for a run,” he said.
“But, it isn’t even light out.”
Brody shrugged. “It will be by the time I get back.”
“I could come with you.”
“No. I just need to clear my head.” He walked back to the bedroom and put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, then grabbed his trainers from the closet floor. When he returned to the living room, she was sitting where he’d left her, her knees pulled up beneath the oversize jumper.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” he said. “Why don’t you get a little more sleep and then we’ll go to breakfast.”
Brody slipped out of the door before she could reply to his suggestion, then strode down the hall to the lift. He stepped inside, releasing a tightly held breath as the doors closed in front of him.
There was no sense trying to plan his future right now. Until he found work, it would be best to keep his feelings for Payton in check. He could enjoy their time together, enjoy the passion they shared, but anything beyond that would be a risk.
8
PAYTON STROLLED slowly through the Fremantle Market, searching for inspiration for the evening meal. She’d already purchased prawns at the fish market on the harbor and now she was studying the vegetables that filled the stalls.
Though they’d only been in Fremantle for a week and a half, she’d already settled into life with Brody. They’d spent their days touring the city and surfing and trying new restaurants. Yesterday, they’d sailed a friend’s boat to Rottnest Island and ridden bicycles over the picturesque roads. Brody had even rented a room at the old hotel where they had their lunch and enjoyed a “nap” before continuing their tour.
Payton smiled to herself. Though they’d stripped off their clothes before crawling into bed, neither one of them had had any intention of sleeping. Instead, they’d spent a lazy hour kissing and touching before they made love.
It had been a wonderful day filled with long walks and quiet conversation. Brody was a complicated man, troubled by his own doubts and worries. He’d confessed that he was toying with the idea of calling the NFL scout and talking to him about a job.
Though she could sense his tension over scheduling a tryout, Payton tried to reassure him that even if it didn’t
