Fumbled (The Girls of Beachmont #1) (6 page)

Gracie sat on the floor
next to me and opened the screen, cycling through the various pictures of
JT Hunter—Football Star—Most
Eligible Bachelor—Sexiest Man in the City
. “Do you see this?”

“I see it, but what’s
your point?”

“Dani, you freakin’ met
JT Hunter. JT Hunter changed your tire. And you gave your phone number to JT
Hunter and now you are going out with JT Hunter,” she shouted before jumping around
excitedly.

“Say ‘JT Hunter’ again
and maybe I’ll get it,” I joked.

“JT Hunter,” she said
and I laughed.

“Nope,” I argued. “I met
Tabor.”

“Please don’t act stupid
right now,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“For whatever reason, he
introduced himself as Tabor. So let’s just leave it at that for now. Okay?”

“Fine,” Gracie said,
raising her hands in surrender.

“You know, it makes
sense now,” I offered.

“What does?”

“When I asked him to
take his sunglasses off, he was hesitant. I guess now I know why.”

“And that is?”

I shrugged. “He thought
I’d recognize him.”

“Um. Yeah! That’s
because
most
women in San Diego
would. But then again, you’re not most women.” She smiled.

I grabbed her laptop and
brought it to the couch where I scrolled through all of the images of Tabor.

Correction:
JT Hunter.

JT Hunter with a group
of kids.

JT Hunter shirtless.

JT Hunter at practice.

JT Hunter with a woman.

JT Hunter wearing
sunglasses and smiling.

I couldn’t help but grin
when I saw that last one. Gracie nudged my leg, and I looked to see her
watching me with amusement and I shrugged.

“Why do you think he
introduced himself as Tabor?” I asked.

“Maybe you’ll find out
when he picks you up tonight.” She smirked. “And I hate you, by the way.”

“What am I supposed to
do?” I asked. “I’ve never been on a date with anyone remotely famous. And now
I’m going out with Tabor—JT Hunter? Maybe I should cancel.”

I was fighting my own
insecurities and I hated it. And I think I hated it more that I needed my big
sister to assure me that I deserved to have some fun. It’s amazing that one bad
relationship can deplete your confidence. I grabbed my purse off the floor and
pulled out my phone so I could scroll for his number, but Grace took it out of
my hand.

“Gracie, give me that,”
I demanded, but she stood up to get distance from me.

“You need to calm down,”
she ordered. “You were excited about the date before you knew who he was,
right?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“So you’re going to hold
his status against him? That’s not fair, is it?”

“You are not fooling anyone.”
I lunged for my phone, but she moved. “You just want to live vicariously
through me because he’s on your list.”

She crossed her arms and
raised a brow. “So what if I am?”

I started laughing and
jumped at her again, but she moved to the other side of Cleo.

“Don’t use my niece as a
shield,” I laughed.

She held up my phone and
started scrolling through the recent calls and turned the screen to face me.

“See! You already added
his name to your contact list. You
want
to see this guy, regardless of who he is or who you
thought
he was. You owe it to yourself to go…you owe it to him,”
she said before handing me the device. “You used to be the bravest person I
knew. What happened to that girl?”

Her words stung more
than she realized. I never told Gracie how bad things had gotten with Philip.
As far as everyone was concerned, I was the bad guy in the situation.

But I wanted to be
brave.

I righted my posture and
watched as she walked back to the floor and sat down with Cleo. I stood in the
same place, staring at the screen and Tabor’s name. I did want to see him. I
liked talking with him and wanted to see if maybe there was something more.

At least I did before I
knew who he was.

“You know I’m right,”
she said, staring at Cleo. And she was right.

“I guess one date won’t
hurt.”

“Exactly,” she answered.

I sat down on the couch
and sighed. “Do I tell him that I know who he is?”

Gracie looked at me and
shook her head. “That’s up to you. But for whatever reason, he wanted to be
Tabor with you. I’d just let it play out. From everything I’ve read, he’s a
really good guy, so I don’t think he’s trying to screw with you.”

I nodded my head and
took a deep breath. “I guess I’m going out with JT Hunter tonight,” I muttered
as a door shut.

Grace and I both turned
our heads to see Trevor standing in the doorway with his mouth hung open.

“You’re going out with
Hunter?” His eyes were so wide and I think he might have started to twitch at
the mention of Tabor’s name. He was a huge fan. “What the hell is going on? I
come home from work and the world ends?”

“Get this,” Gracie
snorted and waved Trevor over.

Cleo started clapping at
the sight of her dad, who picked her up and tossed her into the air.

“She didn’t even know it
was him.”

“Are you surprised? She
hates football,” Trevor answered and Grace simply laughed.

“See, I told you.” She
pointed at me. “I think you might be the one person in this city who hasn’t
jumped on the
I love JT
bandwagon.”

“Whatever,” I said,
picking up my purse and heading to the door. “But
I’m
the one who has a date with him.”

I wiggled my fingers at
Cleo, who was still smiling and running all over the place, and blew a kiss to
Grace. She and Trevor were standing side by side, watching my departure.

“Call me,” she called
out as I closed the door behind me.

T A B O R

The afternoon I saw
Dani, I had no idea what possessed me to turn down that street. It wasn’t my
normal route home, but I’d been distracted after a conversation I’d had with my
agent. He was pushing me to endorse a clothing line that my sister Abbi had
told me about. It would take me a while to sort through the endorsements being
thrown my way, and at the time I hadn’t wanted to think about it. Though I
couldn’t think of anything else.

And then I saw her.

I thought nothing of the
classic car on the side of the road; after all, people have flats all the time.

But as I got closer I
spotted the attractive woman bent on the ground next to it, changing the tire.
I slowed my speed and watched this messy, determined woman as she used all of
her weight to loosen the bolts on the tire, and I couldn’t help but smile at
her tenacity.

I felt like an ass as I
sat in my car, watching her work the tire iron. But I couldn’t take my eyes off
of her. Her wavy auburn hair was falling into her face, strands no longer
contained in her small ponytail.

At that moment I just
wanted to meet her, and if helping her change that tire got me the
introduction, I was all for it.

Then came the lie…or
half-truth.

I don’t know why I told
her my name was Tabor. I kept that name exclusive to close family and friends.
But seeing her, I didn’t want to be
JT
Hunter, football player
, and everything that went with the name. Funny
enough, though, she didn’t seem to know who I was—or if she did, she hid
it well.

Her jeans were covered
in dirt from her attempts at changing the tire, and when she argued that she
had it, I didn’t doubt she would have been fine without my help.

I could have walked away
then and left her alone. But I didn’t want to. The moment those blue eyes
stared up into mine, I knew that I was where I needed to be.

“Hey,” Abbi all but
shouted over the phone when I answered. She had successfully stopped me from
thinking about Dani—though in truth, I didn’t mind thinking about her at
all.

“What’s up?”

“Can’t I just call my
brother up to talk?”

“Yeah, you could,” I
laughed, “but I can tell something’s going on.”

“You haven’t talked to
Mom, have you?”

“No. Why? Is everything
okay?” I asked, momentarily alarmed.

“Yeah, she’s fine.
Sorry. I just meant, has she said anything to you?” She sounded nervous, her
voice shaky, and I didn’t understand why.

“About what, Abbi?
What’s going on?” I pushed, not liking the tone the conversation had taken.

“I sorta hoped she did
call, even though I wanted to be the one to tell you myself.” She was quiet and
I was beginning to regret taking the call.

“Abbi, just say it
already!” I tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled.

“It’s about Marshall,”
she said quietly.

“What about him? Did you
two break up?” I asked.

Of all the guys she’d
ever dated, he was the one I hated the least. He was a decent guy, but I’d only
met him a few times. He was good to Abbi, and that was all that mattered.

“Not exactly,” she
laughed and then the phone went quiet again. “He proposed. Last night.”

“Proposed what?” I
stupidly asked, certain it wasn’t what I was thinking.

“What do you think,
dumbass? He asked me to marry him,” she said, her voice rising in excitement.

“Are you serious? You’ve
been dating, what—four months?” I asked, trying to figure out when I’d
first heard of him. “You barely know the guy.”

“Wow, you really suck.
We’ve been together for almost a year, so thanks for paying attention,” she
said, amused with my questions. “And yes, I’m very serious. We want to get
married next spring. Football will be over and you’ll be able to give me away.”

I sat down on the edge
of my bed as I let the new information sink in. My sister—my
little
sister—was getting married?

“Are you still there?”
she asked timidly. “You’re happy for me, right?”

It was as if there was a
delay from her question to my brain and then to my mouth as I tried to
formulate a response.

“Is this what you want?”
I finally asked as I tried to leave my own concerns aside.

“It is,” she said, and I
could almost hear her cheesy smile.

“Then yeah, I’m happy
for you,” I told her truthfully.

“And you’ll give me
away?”

There was a picture on
my dresser of Abbi and me with Mom. It was taken the day I’d signed with the
Quakes. Those two women were the most important people in my life, and even
though they lived thousands of miles away, some things would never change.

“No,” I said.

“What?” she asked
stunned. Abbi wasn’t used to me telling her no, and her disappointment was
noticeable.

“I won’t give you away.
You’re my little sister, and I’ll never give you away. But I will walk you down
the aisle.”

“Thank you!” she
practically shouted into the phone. “I love you, Tabor.”

“You too,” I said with a
smile.

“Now we just need to
find you someone who isn’t a gold-digging whore,” she said in that serious way
of hers.

“Don’t start with that
again,” I warned, hoping to avoid the list of potential dates. “You don’t need
to worry about me.”

“Why?” Her voice was
hushed. “Did you meet someone?”

“Not really.”

“What kind of answer is
that? You either met someone or you didn’t,” she stated with finality.

Abbi could always read
me like a book—a boring, plain, stale book that had no plot whatsoever,
yet she was always interested. Stupidly, I remained quiet too long and she
jumped on it.

“Okay, you better start
talking now,” she barked, leaving little room for argument.

“Nothing to tell,” I
admitted. “I met someone the other day and don’t know much about her.”

“Not even her name?” she
questioned, surprise registering in her tone.

“Dani,” I answered
simply. Just saying her name made me smile.

“So what else do you
know about her?” she asked.

“She’s a school teacher.
Runs an after-school program. And…I told her my name is Tabor,” I confessed,
feeling like an idiot. I sat back, pinching the bridge of my nose, and closed
my eyes as I recalled the panic I felt when her blue eyes landed on me.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think this Dani
chick is for real?”

“I think she might be,”
I said, smirking to myself.

“Be careful,” she said,
sounding a lot like Mom at that moment. “You don’t want to end up with someone
like Natasha again. That woman was pure evil.”

“You know me,” I
scoffed.

“Yeah. I do. So I
repeat: be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to
mean?” I asked.

“You wear your heart on
your sleeve and you’re so quick to believe the good in people. Promise me
you’ll play it cool—at least until you get to know her.”

“I promise. But look, I
need to go. I’m supposed to pick her up in an hour.”

“You’re seeing her
tonight?” Her gasp made me laugh. “Where does she live? Is it far from you?”

“About thirty minutes, I
guess,” I said. “So I need to get going.”

“Are you nervous?” she
teased.

“Abbi,” I groaned,
frustrated with her giddy tone.

“You
are
nervous,” she laughed.

“Goodbye, Abs,” I
groaned, hanging up the phone before she could argue.

It was typically how our
phone calls ended: one of us would annoy the other until someone hung up the
phone. And neither of us held grudges; it was part of our Hunter charm.

But truth be told, I
didn’t remember the last time I
was
nervous about picking someone up for a date.

My phone buzzed and I
looked down to see a text.

Abbi: Call me later. I
want more details on this girl

Me: Will do

***

As I made my way down
Dani’s street, I took notice of the string of townhomes along the way. It was
an older neighborhood, but by the looks of some of the people out for an
evening walk, the tenants were young.

My speed slowed as the
street numbers got closer to hers, and I knew I was at the right place when I
noticed a garage with Dani’s Bel Air parked in front of it. I found it cool
that she was into classics and wondered if it was something she had always
loved or a passing fad.

I stepped out of my car
and straightened my shirt as I walked to her front door. It had been a long
time since I’d experienced the anonymity of dating—something I would have
to explain before long. The only drawback to going out in public was the fact
that there were limited places I could go and enjoy a quiet evening without
being noticed.

Metropolis Grill was a
thirty-minute drive, but well worth it for the anonymity alone

I rang the doorbell and
stepped back while I waited for her to answer. A silhouette approached the door
and she moved the fabric away from the window to look out. When she opened it I
found myself speechless, staring at the woman from the side of the road in a
simple black dress that showed off her legs. Her hair was down, thick waves
resting on her shoulders, and a small amount of makeup on her face.

“Wow, you look…” I said,
trying not to sound too eager. “…beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She
grinned, glancing down at her feet. She looked up and I watched as she shifted
nervously on her feet.

Dani wearing jeans and a
T-shirt would be sexy; something told me that was her norm. Dani in a sexy
black dress—gorgeous.

“You don’t look so bad
yourself,” she said with a smirk.

The side of my mouth
curved up in a smile and I cocked my head to the side. “You clean up nice.”

“Yeah, thanks for
pointing out that ‘smudge’ on my face,” she laughed.

“I thought it was kind
of sexy, actually,” I defended.

“Is that so?” Her cheeks
flushed and she turned, pointing behind her. “I just need to grab my purse.”

“We have a few minutes,”
I said, hoping to get a look at her place. It was small, but seemed to fit her.
I pointed to her living room when I noticed her walls covered with various
framed pictures.

“Go ahead.” She motioned
to the black and white photos I showed interest in.

“These are cool,” I said
as I looked at the images. Some were of the beach, others of
people—possibly strangers—in random places.

“Thanks. My sister
Gracie loves taking pictures. I started framing them when I saw they were
stuffed in a closet collecting dust at her place.”

She sat on the arm of
her oversized beige couch and I could tell she was watching me. I could see her
reflection in one of the frames so I pretended to stare at it. In reality, I
was looking at her, longer than necessary.

“Nice place,” I said as
I turned to look at her.

“Thanks,” she answered
easily, laughing. “It’s only taken two years for it to feel like home.”

“I’ve been in my place
for about that long and it still feels pretty empty.”

“Why is that?” she
pried.

Because I’m really JT Hunter and I don’t have time.

“When I’m home, I like
to relax. Shopping for house stuff doesn’t fall into the
relaxing
category for me.”

I could have told her
then, but I wanted to hold onto my secret a little longer. It was nice to just
be a regular guy to someone besides myself.

I walked toward her, and
she started to get to her feet but managed to stumble in her heels. I quickly
reached out and caught her elbow, steadying her.

“Are you falling for
me?” I teased with a wink.

Her cheeks were bright
pink, and when I looked down where my hand was touching on her arm, goose bumps
appeared. I liked that I had some effect on her.

A waft of her flowery
perfume—or maybe it was her shampoo—hit me, and with our proximity,
I’d never been so tempted to steal a kiss. But I tore my eyes away from her
lips, remembering I was supposed to be a gentleman.

“I—I’m good,” she
finally said, swallowing hard as she gained her footing. “Like I said…klutz.”

Dani walked over to grab
her purse and turned off the lamp on the hallway table before we walked
outside. I was waiting for her to lock up and extended my hand, something that
took me by surprise.

“I don’t want you
falling down the stairs,” I said playfully, attempting to alleviate the
tension.