Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance (79 page)

She rose from the couch. “Nice try, Charming.”

“I’m good for a cuddle.”

She ignored me, covering her eyes. “I can’t believe we did something so…
stupid
.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” I followed her, but she was smart enough to stay out of arm’s reach. “We were just drunk. Trying to have some fun. I wanted to do something exciting, but
you’re
the one who refused to bungee jump off the Stratosphere.”

“A prudent decision with that much alcohol in our systems.”

“True, but we’d wanted an adrenaline rush…so we eloped.”

“God, the romance.” Elle feigned swooning. “Take me now, Romeo.”

“We
compromised
on the marriage. That’s a good sign for our future.”

She wagged a finger. “Oh no. None of that. We’re getting an annulment, Lachlan. Like,
yesterday
.”

“Are you sure?”

She sputtered, those red streaks in her hair nearly bursting into real flame. “Am I
sure
? Of
course
I’m sure! We are ending this marriage.”

“Okay, hear me out.”

“Nope.”

“Let me just say—”

“Na-uh. I know what you’re going to say.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

She nearly growled. “Could have fooled me.”

“Did you know I almost died a few days ago?” I asked.

Elle said nothing.

“A woman rescued me. This out-of-control, speeding car barreled down the road, coming straight for me. But this beautiful, fearless woman cared enough about me to risk her life for mine.”

She hummed. “Or maybe she was just concerned about jaywalkers crossing dangerous intersections.”

“Or
maybe
she couldn’t stand to see me get hit by a car.”

“Then someone better give this hero a medal—or find the driver to finish the job.”

I smirked. “This girl…she gave me a new outlook on life.”

“Something other than sexing up the first girl you spot in Vegas?”

I exhaled. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you, Elle.”

If it intrigued her, she hid her excitement behind a feisty, raised eyebrow. “This should be good.”

“Let’s try to make the marriage work.”

I expected the laughter, but I didn’t realize how much I’d like hearing it.

“Give me a chance, Elle,” I said.

“Absolutely not. Are you crazy?” Elle shook her head. “I don’t even
know
you.”

“So get to know me.”

“How?”

Easy.

If she went for it.

“We got married after spending three days together neither of us remember,” I said. “Before we divorce, let me take you on three dates you’ll never forget.”

Elle didn’t speak, but her big, beautiful eyes rounded with curiosity. Now was my chance.

I made the promise with a smile. “I’m only asking for three dates. Three of the most fantastic, amazing, and the most romantic nights you’ve ever experienced.”

“That’s a bold claim.”

“We don’t agree to divorce until
after
those dates.”

“Why after?”

“Because if you haven’t fallen in love with me by the sunset of our third date…I don’t deserve you.”

Elle wasn’t intimidated or smitten. She grinned, just as cock-sure and deliberate as the one I cracked at her.

“You think you can make me fall in love with you after
three
dates?”

I stepped closer. She didn’t retreat, and I was rewarded with the sweet tease of her scent—coconut and salt, a perfect sea-shore breeze.

“Falling for me isn’t the hard part.” I warned her.

“What’s the hard part?”

“Resisting me once you realize how perfect we are together.”

I pulled her close, and Elle let me hold her. The soft curves of her body pressed into mine. She’d drive a man crazy, especially with that teased bite of her lip. I hated every second she tormented that supple bit of sable with a nibble instead of my kiss.

“I want three dates, three nights to convince you that this is worth keeping,” I said. “And after those dates, Red? I guarantee you’ll be picking out a ring to put on that lovely finger.”

“Which one? This one?” She flashed me her middle finger. “Someone really ought to muzzle you.”

I wasn’t deterred. “I’m not hearing a
no
.”

“You want three dates?”

“And three nights.”

She stiffened. “Nights?”

“You get the whole husband package—the romance, the fun, and the sex.”

“Is there a lot of sex?”

I pulled her closer, touching my lips to hers. “More than you can handle.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

My cock flexed. She glanced down with an arched eyebrow.

“I like surprises.”

I tipped her chin, but she surged up to meet my kiss. Her tongue flicked over mine with a sexy little purr.

This was it. I had her. In my arms. Soon to be in my bed.

Three dates of sensual fun, excitement, and the absolute
rush
of making a woman fall in love with me.

And in return?

I’d get a beautiful wife. A hellcat in the sack. The only woman who pounded my heart more than a bungee jump from a bridge or cliff-diving in Mexico.

She’d be mine, and she’d love every second of it.

Elle guided me through the apartment as she devoured my kiss. Her breathy sighs and tender touch sent shocks right to my cock.

Christ, it had been too long without her.

Too many sleepless nights. Too many days spent dreaming about her.

Too many practices where I stared at her instead of the ball.

I tasted her on my lips, but it wasn’t enough. The instant I had her naked, I’d prove my devotion the best way I knew how. I’d drown in her desire. Cripple her with pleasure. Lose myself in her heated honey and the beautiful petals of her pussy, one that had clenched around me like a goddamned vice—

Elle pulled away from me.

The hell?

I wasn’t in her bedroom. I stood before her front door, opened wide, just like the zipper on my jeans.

“Sorry, Lachlan,” Elle pushed me into the hall. “Our once-upon-a-time is over.”

I
should have destroyed
the SD card when I had the chance.

It took a week before that decision came back to bite me in the butt, leaving teeth marks next to the nibble that was my marriage to Lachlan.

Monday’s practice wound down with limited requests from the team to take a shower with me, but Peter called to me before the guys shuffled off the field.

“Elle, let’s take a walk. Gotta talk to you.”

I wasn’t sure what would be harder—returning to training camp and facing the fifty-some men who’d witnessed my unintentional soapy burlesque show…or facing the one man who exposed me more than a dropped towel ever could.

Stripping could probably get me out of the conversation, but that’d be fighting fire with fire—the unethical against unethical. I kept my arms and legs in my shirt and leggings, and I bluffed an easy-breezy attitude with a quick redo of my ponytail—three times as I followed Peter off the field.

I couldn’t look at him. Peter had been a
mentor
to me. He’d taken a chance on a nineteen-year-old girl who needed a way to break into the world. Without him, I’d be trapped in some dead-end job with no way to see the cities and landmarks and natural wonders that first lured me from home.

But he was helping the team to
cheat.

The photos were damning enough, and the league wouldn’t care who had or hadn’t seen them. Everyone was culpable for a crime like this. If they found out, everything would be lost. The team. Our reputation. The championship we’d won.

And all the players, all of my
friends
, would be ruined because of it.

Peter guided me to the tunnel, out of the team’s earshot. The grey peppering his beard spread through his hair. Had he always been this old?

“Elle, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now,” he said.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. It was me. I used the eight hundred millimeter lens.” I hoped admitting that I touched a twenty-thousand-dollar piece of equipment would distract him. “But I got a really nice picture of Lachlan.”

“Clothes on, I hope.”

I cleared my throat. “All rated G.”

“Good. But that wasn’t what I needed to speak to you about.”

Moment of truth. At least I could handle a bit of pressure. My whole childhood had been a series of secrets and trouble, blown curfews and forbidden friendships hidden from my father. If I couldn’t bluff my way through this, then I’d have nothing to show for a broken family.

“Have you noticed anything missing from our office?” Peter asked.

I swallowed, resisting the urge to glance towards the relative comfort of the field. “Missing? Not that I know of.”

“Nothing of yours was moved? No equipment stolen?”

“
Stolen
?”

“Well, misplaced.”

Big difference.

My heart thudded a little too hard, and I blinked too fast, like I chased away the spots from a bright flash. He didn’t notice.

Was it better to lie? Pretend like something of mine was taken?

No. That would only open up more allegations. Nothing good would come from the team investigating a theft, especially if they placed me at the facility the day I saved Lachlan from the car. I’d lied that I was home sick with a stomach bug, and so far, no one had questioned it.

“Nope,” I said. “Everything’s accounted for.”

“Strange.” He rubbed a hand through his trimmed beard. “Well, keep an eye out, Elle. Don’t leave your gear unsupervised.”

“Gotcha.”

I smiled and headed back to the field. That hadn’t been so bad.

But Peter wasn’t done.

“Elle, one other thing.”

Damn it. I turned. “Yep?”

“I was wondering…it might be time to give you a few more responsibilities in the office.”

Uh-oh
.

“Absolutely. What did you need?” Was I talking too quickly? “I took some great shots of the defense the other day…before the vomiting. We could do something fun with those.”

“Well, actually. I had a different job for you. Something more important.”

Once, I might have loved hearing that. Now my stomach pitted.

Why couldn’t I deal with something simpler. Maybe an annulment to a drunken marriage?

Peter still hadn’t raised his voice, despite the good news of an apparent promotion. “This would be a different set of duties. Something…outside your contract. But you would be compensated for it. Heavily.”

I’m sure I would be. What sort of crime would we commit without a hefty bribe to make it all the more nefarious?

“I don’t need the money.” The hairs on my neck prickled. “Happy to help.”

“Nonsense. This calls for a raise. More responsibilities. More
trust
.”

I silently swore. “Great.”

“I need you to go on a little road trip. And you’re the only one I can count on for this job.”

That’s what I was afraid of. I bought myself some time and straighten the strap on my camera bag.

“Like…with the team?” I grinned. “Can I finally go to the London game with the guys?”

“Do this well, and you can go anywhere you like, whenever you like.” He paused. “But I need you to go solo somewhere first. Down south. To Gainesville.”

“Gainesville?” I laughed, a little too eagerly. “If I’m heading to Florida, can’t it be Miami or Key West?”

“I need you to visit the Cougar’s training camp.”

And there it was.

I wished it had shocked me more, that the affirmation of my worst fears wasn’t accompanied with his pleasant smile.

“Why would I go to the
Cougar’s
camp?”

I’d make him
say
it. Maybe if he heard it spoken out loud, he’d realize how horrible the implication truly was.

“Same reason you’re here,” he said. “I need you to take a few pictures.”

“Of the Cougars?”

“Of the Cougars. See how they’re training. What plays they’re running with Zane de la Cruz. Just head down there. Sit in with the fans. Maybe stick around if you can, get a couple other pictures.”

Did he honestly think the Rivets needed help to contain Zane de le Cruz? Sure, he was one of the league’s best rushers, but we’d signed Cole Hawthorne. We wouldn’t have any trouble shutting down another offense without any illegal pictures of their game plan.

This was it. I lowered my voice, but I stared him straight in the eyes.

He didn’t blink.

“You want me to cheat for the Rivets,” I said.

“It’s not
cheating
. It’s just a couple pictures.”

“Pictures that would give us an edge over the Cougars.”

“Elle, everyone does it. Every team has their little games they play with each other. Some coaches scout injury reports. Other will mess with headset frequencies during plays. You know that we’ve even signed players cut by division rivals, just to keep up with the intel other teams have on us. All you need to do is take a couple pictures.”

“And if the Rivets wouldn’t do this?”

“If everyone else has a leg up, we better do it too before we get pissed on.”

I didn’t believe him. “What if I get caught?”

“Not going to happen. You’re…
you
.”

Insulted? Frustrated? Trapped within the worst job opportunity imaginable?

“Because I’m a woman?” I asked. “No one would will think twice about a woman taking pictures?”

“Sure. If anyone gets suspicious, just…take some selfies with your back to the field. They’ll assume you’re a beautiful woman enjoying the sun in Gainesville. Take Wednesday and Thursday. Head down, enjoy the sights, and come back with all the pictures you can get me.”

“But what about the Rivets’ camp? I need to do my job here.”

“Elle, this
is
your job now.”

I stiffened.
Cheating
was my job…and it’d mean my job if I didn’t do it.

Damn it. This was my dream career. The perfect opportunity. I could cross the country, visit anywhere I liked, see everything I wanted. I had a good paycheck throughout the year, and plenty of time in the off-season to travel, see the sights, pick up the occasional wedding party or summer sports event to earn extra money.

I loved every part of this job.

But I valued honesty more.

“Peter, I don’t think I—”

I silenced as someone tugged on my shirt. I expected a giant linebacker or grinning tight-end.

Instead, I faced a rather respectable little boy, maybe five years old, dressed to kill in a perfectly fitted suit. A gold silk cloth tucked into his breast pocket, matching his tie—Rivets’ branded. He stared at me with green eyes the color of a swirling lagoon. His shock of blonde hair was messy, but he furiously smoothed the bangs that fell into his eyes.

He gave me an impatient scowl and shoved a flower into my hand.

“That’s for you,” he said.

The flower was partially crushed, and most of the rose petals inadvertently scattered through the tunnel. The boy had scuffed his dress shoes on the cement all the way up, and the impeccably polished black now scratched-up grey. He fidgeted on alternating legs, but I wasn’t sure if the little guy had to pee or if he was that uncomfortable in his little formal straight-jacket, all buttoned up and debonair like he was James Bond on assignment to deliver me a flower.

And I could guess which mastermind commanded the mission.

“You’re Elle, right?” the boy asked.

I glanced at Peter. He wasn’t eager to continue our conversation. Excellent.

I’d buy the boy some puppies and fireworks as a reward for the interruption.

“Yep, I’m Elle. And you must be…Sebastian.”

He took two deep breaths, started his sentence a couple times, and was still too excited to speak without slurring his words into the cutest mess.

“I was supposed…see, I was looking for you…” His tone shifted between shrill and confused. “I was supposed to tell you…um…”

He was too cute, and he was in danger of me pinching him until he popped. The most adorable five-year-old in the world stared at me with big green eyes, rosy cheeks, and the same puppy-dog wiggles that propelled Lachlan from one side of the field to the other.

“Is the flower from Lachlan?” I asked.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I
told
him to get you an X-Box cause I like Minecraft. But he said girls like flowers. But there’s flowers in Minecraft. And horses. And zombies! I like zombies. Can I go now?”

This kid needed to be stuffed with sugar,
pronto
. I shrugged towards Peter.

“Sorry. I should go check on my…husband. We’ll iron out the details of my trip later.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I offered my hand to the handsome little messenger. Sebastian scrunched up his nose.

“Do I gotta?”

“Can you take me to your brother?”

“Yeah, but…wait.” he wiggled in the suit, pulling the sleeve down to cover his palm before taking my hand. “There.”

Lachlan waited for us at the edge of the field as practice ended. He broke from the offensive guys chatting a little too close to the ankle tape. He dumped a cup of water over his head, and I pretended that I wasn’t imagining all the muscles the cool trickle touched.

“Using your little brother as a wing-man?” I asked.

Lachlan shrugged. “Did it work?”

“No.”

“Strange.” He nudged his brother. “You’re not gonna find a cuter kid anywhere.”

Sebastian took great offense to that. “I’m not
cute
.”

“Shut up. You’re adorable.” Lachlan messed with his hair.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

I laughed. “I can’t believe you’re so desperate.”

“Since when are flowers
desperate
?”

“Since you used your little brother to score you points.”

Lachlan faked an irritated glance at the kid. “What the heck. I told you to play it cool, little man.”

Sebastian was having none of it. “I found her. Can I have my twenty dollars now?”

“Oh my God, you
bribed
him?”

Lachlan rolled his eyes. “Only twenty bucks.”

“
And
?” Sebastian crossed his arms. “
Ice cream
? Remember?”

“And ice cream.”

“
With
sprinkles.”

“Oh no.” Lachlan shook his head. “I said you’d get sprinkles when you got me the date. No date, no sprinkles.”

“No fair!”

“Heartbreak hurts us all, Bast.”

Sebastian stomped his feet. “My name isn’t
Bast
.”

Lachlan winked at me. “Shush, Bast. Be chill, little man.”

“I’m
Se
bast
ian
.”

“You want that ice cream?”

“Yes!”

“Then your name is
Bast
. Here.” He tossed the kid a ball bigger than his head. “Knock yourself out.”

“When do I get my ice cream?”

“Right after my annulment,” Lachlan said.

Sebastian crinkled his nose. “Your annul-what?”

“Never mind. Just sit there and look cute. You’re helping.”

I laughed as Sebastian dove again at his brother, but Lachlan was too quick. He darted over the sideline, leaping a bench to get away from the kid. The athletic gene ran in the family. Sebastian hobbled over the bench too, emitting a high-pitched warning charge as Lachlan ducked through the offense.

Both boys twisted around Jack before the team ganged up on Lachlan. He captured Sebastian in his arms just in time, warding away the offensive line’s aimed water bottles and towels coiled to flick.

“A wing-man
and
human shield?” I shook my head. Lachlan twisted his brother onto his shoulders for a piggy-back ride. “Does your mother know you’re manhandling him?”

“Sure. I told her I’d take him for the night.”

“Did you tell her you’d give him ice cream if he successfully wooed me?”

Lachlan’s dimples needed to come with a warning. No girl should have stared directly into that charm. “You’re not going to deny a little boy his sprinkles, are you?”

I crossed my arms. “Sebastian, I’ll tell you want. If he wants me to consider his offer, he better get you
double
sprinkles
and
whipped cream.”

The boy cheered. Lachlan winked.

“You should know; I’m willing to include whipped cream on all of our dates too.”