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Brant clearly wasn’t expecting that. He blinked, his pale, hazel eyes sliding from anger to confusion, then back. “You don’t believe me? He was the best football player this town’s ever seen—went to Ohio State on scholarship. Heshouldhave gone pro, but a couple of teachers didn’t like him and they scr—fuckedhim over, cost him his scholarship.”
Yeah, Travis thought. He bet that was how it happened.
Instead of answering, he shrugged, then glanced at the basketball hoop. “You into football, too? Or you prefer basketball?” The kid had the long, lean frame for it, that was certain.
“I’m good at both,” he said with a cocky curl of his lips.
“Yeah?” Travis gauged the distance to the hoop, the healing wound in his side. Then he shot.
It sailed in, not even kissing the metal hoop.
Brant’s eyes popped wide. “Nice.” Immediately, he recovered, the appreciation fading from his features like it had never been there and he shrugged, giving Travis a once-over. “Not bad for a pretty boy, I guess.”
Travis smirked. “You should see my brothers.” Pulling his keys from his pocket, he tossed them up and caught them, still holding Brant’s gaze. “Your dad play much with you?”
“He can’t.” A sullen look came over his face. “His back. Plus, he’s always hustling to find some work. Too many places can’t take him on cuz of it.”
Travis wondered how often the boy heard all of that. Often enough that it had become routine for him to parrot back whatever his father said, that much was certain.
“Maybe if you can lose the attitude with the kids across the street and act like you got some decency, I’ll shoot a game or two with you here in a few days.”
“Why not now?” The question seemed to surprise Brant even as he voiced it.
It didn’t surprise Travis. The boy was so lonely, it was practically written on his face.
“I’ve got a meeting.” He shrugged, careful not to let any sign of pain show. He shouldn’t have shot that basket. But he felt sorry for the kid. Maybe, just maybe, if somebody showed him a better way, he could get off the path he was on before it was too late. “And I’m still healing up from a work injury ... another few days before the doctor wants me doing anything.”
“So you won’t be doing shit,” Brant muttered. “I know that story.”
“I’ll be up to a couple of games in a few days.” Travis caught his gaze and held it. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have said anything. The question is ... can you stop being a dick to those kids?”
“What do they matter to you, anyway?” Brant’s reddish-blond hair, tangled and damp from the heat, fell into his eyes. He shoved it back impatiently as he waited for an answer.
“They’re good kids who’ve been through a hard time. They don’t need a bigger kid pushing them around for kicks and giggles,” Travis said in a blunt voice. “That’s dick behavior. You want to go through your life being a dick who pushes around people who are smaller than you? That’s not what being a man is.”
Brant’s cheeks went a harsh red and his mouth quivered on an angry response. But he said nothing, not for several long seconds.
When he finally did speak, there was no sarcasm or vitriol. “Why do you cuss so much?”
“Because you clearly aren’t going to stop cussing yourself, so what does it matter? I might as well speak to you in a language you understand.” He cocked a brow and Brant’s gaze slid away.
Brant opened his mouth, then closed it. After a minute, he jerked his chin. “They don’t matter to me none anyway.”
Travis didn’t believe that for a minute but since he seemed to have gotten what he wanted, he was content.
“Then we’ll have a game here in a couple of days.” He nodded to the boy and headed back to his truck. As he started the engine back up, he glanced at Brant.
The boy offered a tentative smile. Travis lifted a hand and waved before throwing the truck into drive.
It wasn’t until he turned onto the main road that would take him into the small town of Blessing, Maine that he realized he’d have to hang around a little while. He’d made that kid a promise, and he wasn’t in the habit of breaking promises.
But Isabel had already told him he wasn’t leaving, hadn’t she?
And as far as she was concerned, she owned him, heart and soul.
If she wanted him to stay, he’d stay ... for as long as she allowed him.
Miles looked everybit as worn and tired as he had the week before, but as he rose from the bench to greet Travis, there was a lightness to him Travis hadn’t seen before. A peace, he realized.
