Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (9 page)

I want to ring his neck!
And as that thought runs through my mind, I hear his voice. “Mittens! Hey, wait up! Where you going?”

Spinning around, it is impossible not to notice the muscles bulging on his arms tensing and flexing with every move he makes. What the hell is he doing in here? He jogs across the parking garage, in a loose fitting pair of training shorts and tight gray muscle shirt. He looks insanely sexy, all freshly showered and breathless, his brow glistening as he pulls his earbuds out from his ears.

I let out a deep sigh, turn around and unlock my car. I jerk open my door and throw my purse on the passenger seat. As I am about to slide in and drive off, a strong hand catches my door.

Feeling his hard warm body pressing against my backside ignites tingling warmth starting at my navel, spreading between my thighs. I turn around, shoving my tiny finger into his chest. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

Cash lets out a laugh. “Ruin your life? What are you talking about? Christ woman. I was just hoping to make your day at little better by taking you out for lunch, since you still haven’t let me take you out for dinner.”

His smug smile makes my blood boil. I shove my palms flat on his chest and shove him backward. “Did you forget that I am an employee of the American Hockey League? And that when you show up with roses, send me cupcakes, or invite me to your stupid drunken sex parties, that you’ve put me in a very compromising position. My father showed up here and insinuated I could lose my job, by getting messed up with you. Do you know how humiliating that would be?” I shout, chest heaving up and down.

Cash lets out an arrogant laugh. “Relax Mittens, Daddy’s not going to let anyone fire you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your father is new to the scene. He doesn’t want a scandal. He doesn’t want the press riding his ass. He wants a stress free ride and all the administrative power he can get. And because of that he doesn’t want me anywhere near you. He’s still mad at me over the last intern Kimberley. She quit on Theo after I told her I wasn't interested in taking things further, if you know what I mean...”

I straighten up, refusing to meet his eyes. “He’s my father. He’s simply looking out for me.”

With a smirk to his voice, he changes the subject. “Did you enjoy your free show this morning, watching me run the stairs?”

I roll my eyes. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”

His dimples pull deep into his cheeks when he lets out a chuckle. “Fine. I’m sorry, okay. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No. What I want to hear from those sleazy lips of yours is that you’ll promise to stop blurring the lines of our player employee relationship with your inappropriate behavior. I don’t want to end up like Kimberly.”

An impish grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry, Quinn. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“What’s your angle here, Brooks?” I ask, rapping my knuckles on the roof of my car. “Are you always this irritating when you try to charm the new girl into bed?”

He shakes his head, laughing. “Christ, Mittens. I don’t have to charm the new girl into bed.” He leans in a little bit, and says in a soft, low voice, “She’s comes, willingly.”

“That’s gross.”

“Why are you so hostile?” He grins, tilting his head to the side, utterly amused at my disgust to him. “Don’t you want to learn about the all-star hockey player you’re working for?”

“I don’t work for you. I work for the Bruisers.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and follow Cash’s gaze as it wanders down to my cleavage. “Up here, asshole.”

He offers a cocky grin. “If you don’t want guys looking, then you should cover those puppies up.”

“Puppies? Really? Come on, how do you even get laid talking like that?”

He chuckles, staring at me like I’m the most amusing person in the world.

This only infuriates me more. “If you’ll excuse me, now…I’m headed off for lunch.”

“Do you like tacos?” he asks.

“I’m not going for lunch with you.”

He grins, and takes a step forward. To which I instinctually take a step back, trapping myself against my car. “If you go out for lunch with me right now, I’ll call it even, okay. I won’t bother you about dinner ever again and we’ll keep it professional, all right? You were going to grab a bite to eat anyway. Why not accept my invitation for decent taco?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t trust your ways, Brooks. That’s why.”

He presses one hand on the roof of my car, placing his lips inches away from mine. “Or maybe, you don’t trust yourself around me.”

I nervously chuckle and place both my hands against his chest, pushing him away to a safe distance. My heart flutters around a little too fast and my face gets a little too hot, knowing he is right.

I nod over to the passenger side. “Fine. Get in.”

Cash rubs his chin with his thumb and index finger, studying me. “You’re not driving anywhere.” He turns around and calls over his shoulder, “Come on, Mittens. Let’s go.”

I grab my purse and slam my car door shut, jogging slightly to catch up to him. Once I do, he glances down at me with a smile, which causes my traitorous body to heat up and send a tingling warmth all over my skin. When he stops in front of a Harley I immediately regret taking him up on his offer. “I’m not getting on that thing. Don’t you have a car like a normal person?”

“I haven’t driven a car in four years.” He pulls an extra helmet out of a hidden compartment and thrusts it into my chest. “Now, put this on. I promise I’ll go slowly.”

I put my hand on my hip, glaring at him. “I’m wearing a skirt.”

“I’m wearing shorts. What’s your point?” He climbs on seat of his bike.

Sliding the helmet onto my head, I roll my eyes and straddle the back. The streets fly by in a blurry haze, but Cash’s honors his word, stopping at yellow lights and driving the speed limit. His intoxicating scent and his rock hard body cause goose bumps to spread all over my skin from being this close to him. Fifteen minutes later, he pulls us into a parking lot of the downtown business district, where five different food trucks are set up. My hands are numb from the vibrations from the bike and from gripping his shirt with all my might. It was the only way I could stop my fingers from wandering. I try to undo my helmet, but the tingling in my hands makes it impossible to use my fingers. Cash pulls off his helmet and shakes out his wavy hair, causing his scent of honey and cinnamon to wash over me.

He turns around and catches me fumbling with the strap of my helmet.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He leans over and unbuckles the strap. Pulling the helmet off my head, he looks down at my chest and then into my eyes. “Your blouse is unbuttoned.”

My cheeks heat and I bunch my shirt above my breasts. “Thanks, pervert.”

He stares at me with an amused grin. “You’re welcome.”

We stare at each other in silence while he waits for me to button up my blouse.

“Turn around,” I order.

A small smile touches his lips, and I can tell he is trying his hardest not to laugh. When he turns his back to me I quickly pop my button back into place, then rise to my feet and move up to his side.

“Are you decent?” he asks.

I glance up at him, screwing my face into a look of impatience. “Alright, where is this amazing taco you promised me?”

He points over to a silver food truck a few feet away. “Jesus. I’ve never met a girl more eager to eat a taco.”

“Or maybe I’m just eager to wrap this up,” I say.

“Ah, come on, Mittens. Just admit I’m growing on you.”

As we join the line at the truck, I hear giggles to my right. Five girls are smiling and pointing over at us from a picnic table, one of the girls gives Cash a coy wave. He smiles back and gives them a wink, causing them all to giggle more.

“I’m pretty sure I just lost my appetite,” I mumble, hearing the sound of their heels clicking our way.

“Cash Brooks?” a tall, slender brunette asks, stepping between us. Her four friends wait behind her, batting their eyes in his direction.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He puts his arm around her. “Who are your friends?”

I glare at Cash and the brunette as she introduces her blushing friends. He looks over at me and grins. I force myself to look away, hoping the awkwardness of it all disappears.

My ears tap into the conversation when I hear, “Will you sign one?”

The girl practically flops out her boob as her girlfriend passes Cash a pen. He looks down at her tits, unaffected by the large bust inches away from his face, signing his name in a black felt tip pen.

“Thanks Cash.” She sighs.

“We’re up.” I push my way between them to the ordering window.

The girls shoot daggers at me when Cash says his goodbyes and joins me. “We’ll take two tacos dorados and two shrimp tacos.” He pulls out his wallet and places a bill on the counter. “What do you want to drink, Mittens?”

“Water, please. And I can pay for myself.”

Cash shakes his head. “I’m paying, and we’ll have two guava aqua frescas,” he says to the lady at the window. “You’re at a Mexican food truck. You can’t just order water.”

“Guess I’m not up to snuff on Mexican food truck etiquette,” I sniff.

“Hey, Cash!” the brunette calls from the distance.

Both Cash and I turn in her direction. Her bare breasts are pressed up against the passenger side window of her friend’s car as they drive off honking down the street. I wait for him to laugh, or to show some sign of disgust, but his expression is more one of smug conceit.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You know if you’re looking to clean up your reputation for the majors you should probably stay far away from girls like that.”

“They’re just harmless fans. They come to me. I don’t come to them.”

With a smile, Cash carries our food to nearby picnic table.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, collapsing on the bench.

“Yeah, right,” I snort, taking a sip of my fruity water. “I think it’s pathetic that those girls have their panties in a twist because some hockey player beats up other guys on the ice.”

Cash shrugs, and takes a bite of his taco. “You said it yourself. I’m not the only thing that attracts the crowd.”

“People can’t wait to see the hotheaded fighter. If you want to prove me wrong, then what you should do is play a good clean game instead of beating the shit of your opponents and getting tossed into the penalty box.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the kind of player I am now.”

“And you weren’t before?”

He shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t. But we’re talking hockey, Quinn. In the majors I was a scorer. In the minors I’m an enforcer. The crowd loves it. I give them what they want. Besides, fighting will always be part of the game.”

“An unnecessary part.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not the one who ends up bloody and battered. Trust me I’ve got all my real teeth to prove it.” He flashes me a wide grin.

“You’ve got a piece of lettuce stuck in there,” I say, taking another bite of my taco.

Cash laughs. “What’s your story, Mittens? Why had I never heard about the other Ashby sister?”

“My story?” I catch his baby blues admiring my lips. “What about you? You’re the one who was a first round draft pick. Now you’re here, booted down to an affiliate instead of playing in prime time for the Tornados. I think the real question is what your story, Brooks?”

Cash raises a brow. “You Googled me didn’t you?”

I blush. “Don’t flatter yourself. I thought after I accepted this position that it might be in my best interest to find out what I was dealing with.”

“And? What else did you find?” He takes a bite of his taco and washes it down with a sip of his aqua fresca.

I shrug. “Not much really. Just that you’re a small town Canadian boy who happens to be a talented jackass with an undiagnosed sex addiction.”

He takes another drink. Watching the muscles in his throat move as he swallows is mesmerizing. He sets his drink down on the picnic table, without taking his eyes off of me. “Is that all?” he asks.

“I would say that pretty much sums it up,” I say, swallowing my snarky reaction to the fact that he is gloating. “But what I can’t seem to figure out is why they kicked your ass to the curb. It doesn’t make any sense. On paper you come across as one of the most talented players in the history of the game. And for some strange reason, not even the Internet can tell me how the world’s most sought after hockey star ended up here. Why is that?”

A strange silence descends, and for a split second I think I hit a nerve. His lips tighten, and we stare at each other, his intense eyes clouding with…. pain or maybe even guilt? Which only makes the look he gives me more complicated to decipher…have I offended him?

Cash wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Listen, Mittens, there’s a reason why I don’t let people in. I don’t hold onto anything for too long, because I can’t. I’ve got more baggage than a 747. I don’t kiss and cuddle. I fuck and I chuck. And I never share the details of my life with anybody. And I’m not about to start now.”

We finish our lunch in silence and walk back to his motorcycle while Cash sips on what’s left of his drink.

“Hey, Quinn. Is that you?” a familiar male voice shouts from behind me.

I spin around and see Aiden, an old friend from high school, cutting across the parking lot. His blonde hair shines and bounces with every step he takes. He looks quite sharp in pair of gray slacks and a checkered button up shirt as he approaches with heavy steps, eyeing Cash up and down.

“Aiden?” I ask, walking over in his direction as Cash follows me.

Aiden’s eyes brighten as I lean in and give him a hug. “Quinn, you look”—he pulls back to scan from head to my toe— “beautiful.”

“You look great too,” I say. When I glance at Cash, his eyes are narrowed.

“Vaughn told me you recently moved back to Bexley. I was wondering when I’d finally get to see you. I am interning a few blocks away at Gramercy Communications.” His gaze shifts over my head and he takes a step back when Cash places his hand on the small of my back.

“You ready to go?” he interrupts.

Aiden extends his hand. “Cash Brooks, right?”