Red Zone: Boys of Fall

BOOK: Red Zone: Boys of Fall
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Red Zone

Boys of Fall

 

 

 

 

By Mari Carr

 

 

Red Zone

Copyright 2015 Mari Carr

Formatted by
IRONHORSE Formatting

 

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

Dedication

 

To Mandee

From Sunday school student to dear friend.

Here’s to secrets, game nights and unexpected limo rides.

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Free Agent by Mari Carr

Other Hot Reads

Other Titles by Mari Carr

About the Author

 

 

Chapter One

 

Sadie Milligan was drunk. Well, okay. Maybe not
drunk
drunk, but she was definitely walking a thin line between tipsy and wasted.

Wait. Is that a thin line?

Damn weddings. They always depressed her. Not that she was unhappy for the couple who had just said their “I do’s” a few hours earlier. She liked Wade and Charlene a lot. She figured if anyone had a decent shot at making it all the way to happily ever after, it was those two. God knew they’d walked a rough enough road to get to this day. Especially considering Charlene had already taken a trip down the aisle with Wade’s brother, Colt. Sadie suspected there wasn’t anyone at the reception who didn’t believe that this time, Charlene had gotten the right brother. She and Wade fit together in a way she hadn’t with Colt.

Sadie did a mental eye roll. Yeah. Like she was capable of judging anyone’s chances for success when it came to romance. Her batting record was a big fat zero. She’d struck out at the plate every single time. Enough times, in fact, that she’d decided to take herself out of that particular game. She wasn’t destined for a forever kind of relationship. So she’d just settle for sex.

“That’s a dangerous grin.” Joel Rodriguez, the living and breathing embodiment of tall, dark and handsome, walked up and handed her another glass of champagne. It was his fault—as well as Oakley’s—that she was three sheets to the wind. They’d been plying her with wine all night.

“I’m trying to pick out my hookup for the evening. Isn’t that what wedding receptions are all about? Getting toasted and maudlin and desperately reaching out for some potential love match only to wake up naked the next morning in a strange bed, hungover and filled with regret.”

Joel’s brows creased. “Are you serious?” he asked.

At the same time, his best friend Oakley stumbled next to her and said, “Did I hear someone say ‘hookup’?”

Sadie laughed as she tried for the gazillionth time to figure out how in the hell the two guys in front of her managed to remain friends. They were as different as tequila and water. Not that she’d mind a drink of either from time to time.

Oakley was just her brand of tequila, wild and uninhibited. She’d enjoy getting a buzz with him between the sheets. And, of course, after that, she could chug a gallon of Joel’s refreshing, soothe-you-straight-to-the-soul water. Joel was the rock and Oakley the roll in their friendship. Somehow, it worked.

But Sadie wouldn’t indulge in either. Both men had made their interest in her known, but she had no desire to come between them. They were closer than best friends, more like brothers. And she wasn’t going to have the bad karma of messing up something like that riding on her head for all of eternity.

“Sorry, Oak. Neither one of you guys is even on my radar,” she lied. She’d lived in Quinn her entire life and, sadly, she was too familiar with the items on the sexual buffet tonight. She’d sampled more than a few already and decided they weren’t worth the calories. In all honesty, Oakley and Joel were the only guys she’d consider going home with. Which was why she was sleeping alone.

Dammit.

Oakley pretended to be listening for something. “Really? Because I’m sure I heard the
beep beep beep
of a sonar getting louder when I walked over here. Wait.” He raised his finger and tilted his head. “Yep. There it is again.”

She raised her glass, her lips lifting as she launched into one of her typical teasing refusals. “There’s not enough champagne in the world to make me want to sleep with either one of you guys.”

Joel placed his hand over hers, guiding the glass to her lips. “Let’s keep trying, just in case you’re wrong.”

She broke free of his grip, trying to ignore the tiny shiver of excitement that raced through her. Both men were always finding friendly, playful ways to touch her, be it Oakley ruffling her hair or Joel placing a protective hand at her back as they walked across the grass to find their seats at the wedding this afternoon. Worst of all was the way her body reacted every time they got too close. She found Joel’s jet black hair and eyes as well as Oakley’s bear-like, muscular physique irresistible.  She was seriously attracted to both of them.

Fucking karma.

It was just her luck the only two guys she wanted to sleep with these days were the ones she’d sworn off.

The three of them watched the throng of wedding revelers going “just a little bit softer now” on the dance floor. They grinned when one of the more respectable, older ladies of Quinn dropped a bit too low, then needed her husband to help her get back up.

“What is it about weddings that bring out the crazy in everybody?” Oakley asked.

Sadie jiggled her half-drunk glass of champagne. “I’m going to say it’s the open bar.”

Joel studied her glass. “How are you getting home?”

“Cab, I suppose. I caught a ride here with Lorelie and her dad, but they just cut out a little while ago. Coach was getting tired. What about you guys? I wouldn’t say either of you is fit to drive.” Joel and Oakley had matched her drink for drink.

Oakley shrugged. “We had the same plan as you. We were going to leave our truck here and ride back to the ranch with Coach and Lorelie, but they left too early. Guess we should have told them they were our designated drivers.”

Sadie laughed. “The taxi route was always my backup. Lorelie warned me when we got here that she didn’t see her dad going the distance. He couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Yeah,” Joel said. “She told us this morning. He’s chomping at the bit to get back to work and depressed that the doctor hasn’t cleared him to do it yet. I suspected she’d get him out of here early. She worries about him getting too tired.”

Sadie appreciated Lorelie’s concerns. Like her, Sadie only had her dad left, and while they butted heads on a daily basis, Sadie didn’t want to consider what life would be like without him. 

Oakley finished his beer. “You mind sharing your cab with us? We can get the driver to drop you off at your apartment, then take us out to the ranch.”

“We’ll see,” she said noncommittally. The idea of sharing the backseat of a taxi with the two muscular, sexy-as-fuck cowboys currently sporting their Sunday best would be too damn much for her champagne-induced horniness. Damn wine never failed to trigger some dirty,
dirty
needs in her. “I haven’t discounted the possibility of a hookup yet.”

Oakley laughed.

Joel didn’t. In fact, his typically gentle smile faded as he leaned closer. “You don’t want to go home with any of these yahoos. Shit. I wouldn’t
let
you go home with them.”

If she hadn’t been so taken aback by his outright possessiveness, she would have raked him over the coals. Instead, she found herself incredibly turned on by his sudden dominant stance and dark tone. Her nipples budded and her pussy clenched.

Fucking champagne.

Oakley stopped laughing, clearly as shocked by Joel’s comment as she was. The silence hovered for one beat too long as Sadie waited for the punch line. It didn’t come.

“You wouldn’t
let
me?” she asked when she finally found her voice.

He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with this, Sadie. Sick of watching you take guys to your bed who don’t deserve you. Who won’t treat you right.”

“So, what’s your solution, hotshot? I’m just supposed to be chaste for the rest of my life? Because I can tell you right now, I am not—”

“No,” Joel cut her off. “You take me up on my offer to go out on a date.”

“What about
my
offer?” Oakley asked. “Or do I fall into that yahoo category?” There was no heat behind Oakley’s question. Yet.

Sadie’s chest tightened. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid by rejecting their invitations.

“You’re cool, Oak.” Joel turned to look at her. “You have two decent guys standing right in front of you, Sadie. Why don’t you stop messing around with losers and just pick one of us? You know we’re both crazy about you.”

If only it were that easy.

“I’ve told you a million times before. I’m not going to come between you two.”

“What if we promise to accept your choice? No sore losers. I know I’d sure as hell rather see you with Oakley than any of the other guys around here.”

Sadie didn’t doubt for a minute Joel was sincere. But it didn’t matter. He was forcing her hand. Forcing her to say something she’d so far managed to keep secret.

She wasn’t rejecting them simply to protect their friendship. She was staying away because the truth was she
couldn’t
choose. She was completely attracted to both of them. It would be like trying to decide between sour cream or bacon on her baked potato. Who the hell wanted one and not the other? She was a glutton—always ordering extra of both.

But there was no way in hell she’d tell the cocky bastards she was hot for them. With that knowledge, they’d probably double their efforts, her weak ass would succumb to one—or both—which would cause them to get into a fight and then she’d have that damn bad karma thing to deal with.

So, like a true coward, she dodged the issue entirely. “Actually, I don’t think sex or dating or anything else is on the table for me tonight. This champagne is giving me a wicked headache. I might go ahead and get a cab. You guys can stick around and take your own chances with the crop of carbon-copy blonde beauties who’ve been batting their eyes at you all night.”

Oakley laughed. “No thanks. We prefer our women with purple hair, tattoos and pierced noses.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d added the neon purple streak to her auburn hair as a lark because it matched the dress she was wearing to the wedding, but she kind of liked it. She was considering keeping it for a while. “Nice try. I’m still going home.”

Joel nodded. “I’m done too. How about you, Oak?”

Oakley agreed he was getting tired, so Joel called for a cab. So much for her great escape. She may have managed to shut down the dating conversation, but she was still going to have to survive the ride to her place with Joel and Oakley’s strong legs pressed against hers. Truth was, her morality was paper-thin and not up for that kind of test.

Neither man pressed her for an answer in terms of who she wanted to date. Thank God. So instead they continued to watch the dancers as they waited for the cab. The crowd had thinned a bit, as the older attendees had already taken their leave.

What was left was the hardcore,
came to the wedding to
get wasted and dance until I drop
contingency. The playlist had drifted away from the old standards meant to get Grandma on the dance floor, to the younger bump-and-grind beats meant to get the rest of the group laid.

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