“How did it go?” she asked as he took her hand in his.
“I kicked well,” he said. “But he didn’t like the look of my knee.”
“Well, you expected that,” she said.
“He said I should work harder on rehab and then give him a call in a month.”
“Are you going to do that?” she asked.
Brody shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It would give me more options.” He smiled. “I can kick the damn ball. At least the next time one of their kickers goes down, he’ll be thinking of me.”
They drove back to his apartment, his mind distracted by the traffic. Every now and then, he caught Payton glancing over at him. He wanted to tell her how he was feeling-the frustration and the doubts-but his problems were his own. This afternoon, they’d find something to do that would take his mind off his troubles. And tomorrow, he’d figure out a plan.
As they drove up to the apartment, he reached out and took her hand. “Why don’t we go surfing this afternoon.” He looked over at her to see her gaze fixed on a car parked across the street from his building.
“What’s wrong?”
“Keep driving,” she said.
“Why? We need to get our gear if we’re going surfing.”
“Just keep going.”
He did as he was told. After a few blocks, Brody drove in to an empty parking spot and pulled the truck out of gear. Then he turned to her. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?”
She gnawed at her lower lip, avoiding his eyes. “Yesterday, after I came back from the market, I saw Sam. My ex. He was parked in front of your apartment building waiting for me.”
Brody felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. This didn’t make sense. “You talked to Sam?”
She nodded, then risked a glance over at him. “I wanted to tell you yesterday, but you had the tryout today and I didn’t want you to be upset. Besides, when I got home we got distracted and I guess I just forgot.”
“You forgot?”
“Well, not exactly. It wasn’t the right time.”
“Which is it, Payton?”
She cursed softly. “What difference does it make? I’m telling you now. He asked if I’d come home. I told him no.”
“Then what’s he still doing here?”
“I guess he thinks I might change my mind.”
Brody’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “And will you change your mind?”
“No,” Payton insisted. “I don’t want to marry him. I told him that. But he doesn’t like to lose. And he certainly doesn’t like to be embarrassed. He and my parents seem to think I’ve had some sort of mental breakdown and that if I just get a little help, I’ll regain my senses.”
“We’re going back,” Brody said. “I’ll talk to the guy. I’ll tell him to back off.”
“No,” Payton said. “This is my problem. I’ll-”
“It’s my problem now. He’s screwing with my life.”
“I know where he’s staying. I’ll call him tonight and tell him to go home. And I’ll call my parents and let them know I’m going to stay in Australia for now.”
Brody didn’t like leaving it up to Payton. She’d obviously tried to convince Sam the first time they’d talked and it hadn’t worked. Either Sam wasn’t listening or she hadn’t been forceful enough. But there would be no denying Brody’s argument-either the guy would leave Fremantle immediately, or Brody would give him a thick ear.
“So what does this mean? We can’t go back to the apartment?”
“Why don’t we go get some lunch and maybe he’ll be gone when we return.” She reached out and pried his hand off the wheel, then laced her fingers through his. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’m not very good with confrontation.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve told me off plenty of times.”
“It’s different with my family and with Sam. They make me feel-” Payton searched for the word “-small. They make me feel small.”
He turned to look at her, noticing the uneasy expression on her face. Hell, he never wanted to do anything that made her feel that way. “You’re one of the strongest, most determined people I know,” he said. “Don’t let them do that to you. Think of everything you’ve done over the past weeks.”
Brody paused, carefully considering his next suggestion. He was tired of all the wondering-did she love him, would she stay, how did she really feel about Sam? There were too many unanswered questions that she had to settle once and for all. “I think you should go see him,” Brody said.
“Really?”
“Why not? He was an important person in your life. Hell, you were going to marry him. Maybe he just needs some…what do they call that?”
“Closure?” she suggested.
“Right. Closure.”
A long silence grew between them. “All right,” she said softly. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go see him tomorrow.”
It wasn’t exactly what he wanted. But it was the quickest way to get to what he wanted. And for that, he was willing to take a risk. He’d give Sam Whitman one last chance to plead his case and if he didn’t leave after that, Brody would personally escort him to the airport.
He wasn’t about to let Payton go. At least, not without a good fight.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?”
Brody frowned, staring down at the assortment of towels. He winced, then ran his hand through his hair. Payton could see the confusion in his eyes, but she suspected it had nothing to do with his choice of towels.
Payton had called Sam and agreed to meet him the next morning. Since she’d made the decision, she and Brody hadn’t spoken of it. In truth, she’d carefully avoided the subject. But she could see that it was killing Brody. He’d been hovering over her all day, obviously wanting to ask her what she would say, but afraid to bring up the subject.
“Ah…well, they’re towels,” he said. “I’ve never really had an opinion on towels. They’re just sort of there when I need them.” He nodded. “That’s what I think.”
“I mean the colors. Your bathroom is so neutral.”
“Is it? What does that mean?”
He was going to make this difficult, Payton mused. She’d wondered if buying new towels for him was really a good idea. But she wanted to contribute something to the home they’d made together, even if it did mean spending a bit of his money. “Neutral means there’s a lack of color.”
“And color is good?”
“Yes. Now, do you like the ice blue or the burnt sienna? These are both masculine colors, but one is cool and the other is warm. I like the burnt sienna.”
“Then I like that one, too. Don’t I have towels?”
“Yes. But they’re a little worn. And they’re kind of mismatched. I just thought these would be pretty. And they’re really soft. One hundred percent Egyptian cotton.” He nodded mutely. Frustrated, Payton picked up the towels and shoved them back into the bag. “Never mind. I’ll return them.”
“No, no. Don’t do that. I like them. I like the burnt sienna. And the blue, too. Maybe we could keep both. One color for summer and one for winter. Cool and warm, right?”
Payton gave him a grudging smile. “I just thought I could make your apartment look a little more homey.”
“It doesn’t look homey?”
She shook her head. “No. It looks like a bachelor’s apartment. It’s very nice, but very sterile. And if we’re going to live here together, then I want it to be like a home.”
A slow smile curled his lips. “A home. With me and you.”
“Yes. I like it here.”
“Is there anything else that needs fixing?” he asked.
“Well, the kitchen could use some nice towels. And a few accessories, maybe a bowl for the island, for fresh fruit. And some nice wineglasses to put in the china cabinet. Those refrigerator magnets have to go.”
Brody chuckled softly. Then he dragged her into his arms, kissing her squarely on the mouth. “Do whatever you want,” he said. “As long as you’re staying, you can paint the place pink. And if you need more money, just ask.”