Page 63 of Out of Bounds
“Pace, I’ve spent my life trying to keep my guy friends away from my sister. Tell me this isn’t part of a move on Annie because we’ve been over this?—”
I flick my club, maybe a little too dramatically, in protest. “For fuck’s sake, Quinn, you need to relax. We’re friends. She’s going through a hard time and she could do with a night off.” I have a flashback to sitting on the edge of my bathtub, dick hard as nails, my finger hooked into her belt loop, so close to stripping her down and tasting every part of her right there on my bathroom floor. “But if you want to start putting ideas in my head…”
“Fuck you, Pace.” He sets his ball on the tee and starts to wiggle his hips into position to take his shot.
“Right back at you, buddy. So we’re good? I should make it happen?”
“Let’s do it.” He takes a practice swing, then turns to point his club in my direction. “But, Pace, I swear to God, if it turns out that there’s only one double bed left at the hotel?—”
“Annie’s off limits, Quinn, I get it.”
Terry scoffs behind me and Max asks, “What did I miss?”
Now is not a time to catch on, for anyone. I need to fix my relationship,friendship, with Annie, that’s all.
With that settled, Quinn takes his shot – a long drive down the fairway, landing a chip from the green. Now, I need to switch my focus to kicking some ass on this golf course.
I call for a ball from my caddy.
27
PACE – LATE OCTOBER
Are You Sniffing Around My Daughter?
“Pace, you’re a big guy, a talented sportsman, wealthy, and so far as I can tell, a good honest man,” Sonny tells me as we stand on the porch of the ranch together, shaded from the late morning sun while we wait for Annie to bring out her weekend bag.
It feels like his words are a precursor to a big, heftybut, so I’m not surprised when he says, “But I am the man of this house. I’m still her daddy and that young boy’s granddaddy, and she’s had enough heartache in recent times.”
My palms literally start sweating. “So I’m going to ask you, son, are you sniffing around my daughter?”
I turn to face him, pushing my hands in my pockets and suddenly feeling like the class clown who got sent to the principal’s office.
I’ve no intention of playing the alpha male here, or having a showdown with Sonny Quinn, and, fuck, the guy is making me nervous as hell.
“I respect you, sir. Your whole family. So I’m going to be straight with you and tell you, I’m trying my very best to be nothing other than a friend to Annie. I like her, Sonny, but I’m working on keeping it at bay.” I shake my head. “I’m not the man for her and I’m acutely aware of that myself, even if you and Colton wouldn’t be up for killing me for daring.”
He’s still staring at me, probably wishing his shotgun was to hand right about now, when Annie bursts onto the porch, luggage in hand, and tears in her eyes. “Can we go before I change my mind about leaving Nelson overnight, please?”
My eyes rake over her in faded jeans and scuffed boots, a check shirt tucked in behind her Lonestar belt buckle, tryingreallyhard to shift my attention away from her and back to Sonny, asking for his permission one last time to take Annie away for a night. “You have my word, sir,” I tell him quietly.
I swear the man hasn’t blinked for like ten minutes, minimum, but he gives me the most subtle nod before telling Annie, “Get on your way now, Annie, it’ll be good for the both of you. Nelson’s in safe hands with Betty and me.”
I’m not convinced that Sonny would be allowing this trip if he didn’t know Colton and Sas were coming along, too. I highly doubt he’d be okay with Annie climbing into the driver seat of the Audi with me as her passenger and companion for the next forty-eight hours. But since Colton and Sasarecoming along for the trip, Sonny holds up a hand and Annie sets off driving us to my house.
Things feel back to normal between us. As if a week of dancing around each other has been put out of mind by this trip. Annie’s focusing on the road, which I think is the only reason our conversation is stilted in places. That, plus the fact I have to concentrate on not gripping onto the edges of my seat or hitting my imaginary foot brake every time Annie gets too close to another vehicle.
We talk about school, Annie’s project, Nelson, football, the ranch. About which color is our favorite Sour Patch as I feed them to Annie from the car care package Sas put together for us. Candy, soda, foot-long subs and chips – anyone would think we were driving out of state rather than Dallas.
I pretend I don’t think Annie’s body looks hot as hell in her shape-hugging jeans, as if I don’t notice the ripples in her shirt where it pulls across her chest. I attempt to ignore the flash of bright pink where her bra is exposed between the fastenings of her shirt and the way she strokes her neck every time we slow for traffic. It’s driving nerves, I guess, but the flush of her skin makes me want to press my lips to her neck the way she did mine on Sunday night in the bathroom steam.
I wonder if the skin beneath her lobe tastes as good as it smells, like piña colada.
Are you sniffing around my daughter?
A short laugh escapes me as I replay her daddy’s words. That is precisely what I’m doing, even if I’m endeavoring not to. I’m only human.
The truth is, I’m starting to lose a battle of wills between my brain and my body whenever she’s near me. Untimely, everything starts to feel too tight in my jeans and I stop listening to whatever it is that Annie’s telling me, but I am watching her full lips move, watching the way her tongue slips across them. Wondering how I had the self-restraint to jump off the train on Sunday night.
