by Carrie Elks
“You want a soda? Come inside for a bit. Take the weight off.”
Michael’s face lit up. “That’d be great.” He kicked the grass from his boots and walked over to where Cam was standing in the doorway. “I’ll leave these by the door,” he said, toeing his boots off. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem. This is my brother, Logan.”
Michael looked over his shoulder and gave Logan a nod. “You’re twins? Cool.”
Logan patted the stool next to his. “Come and sit down. I need to apologize for my brother. He’s an asshole and has no idea how to treat employees.”
“I treat Brian just fine,” Cam pointed out.
“No, Brian treats Brian fine. You forget all about him. He messaged me the other day to check that you were still alive.”
Cam swallowed. “I might have missed a couple of calls.” Maybe a few more. Not just from Brian either. But some from Derek as well.
“Can you put the kid out of his misery? He thinks you’re ignoring him because he asked if he could work for another player.”
“I’ll call him.” Cam rolled his eyes. “Brothers, right?” He grinned at Michael.
“You got a brother?” Logan asked him.
“Yeah, my kid brother. He’s eight.” Michael went to sit down on the stool, but then reached out for something. He lifted his hand, a long strand of blonde hair pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
Logan started to laugh. “You been bringing women home, bro?” Taking the hair from Michael’s hand, he held it up and inspected it. “Let me guess, a twenty something. Blonde, of course, though probably not naturally. Curvy, pretty, and won’t stop blowing your phone up which is why you won’t answer it.”
Cam pressed his tongue against his cheek, sweeping his gaze over Michael. There was no recognition on his face, even though Cam knew the hair had to be one of Mia’s.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Logan turned to Michael. “Take a tip from me. Don’t grow up and be a manwhore like my brother.”
Michael laughed. “If Soraya fell at my feet wearing that swimsuit, I’d probably head that way, too.”
“And now you’re corrupting minors,” Logan said, elbowing Michael in the arm. It was clear from Michael’s smile that he was enjoying being one of the guys.
Logan was still holding that damn hair. Sunlight glinted off the strand, highlighting the soft waves that exactly matched Mia’s style. Cam snatched it out of Logan’s grasp and walked over to the trashcan, pushing his foot on the pedal and depositing the hair inside.
Sliding his gaze to Michael again, Cam’s jaw twitched. If Mia found out he’d seen her hair she’d probably go crazy.
Best not to tell her. Because if she knew, she almost definitely wouldn’t come over to his place on Saturday.
And he really wanted to see her. Needed to. Since yesterday morning, he’d felt more alive than he had in years. She was a beautiful enigma he wanted to solve. A game he wanted to win more than anything else.
He’d always loved games, and he’d always been a winner. Until his latest injury. But injuries didn’t matter when he had her pinned against the shower wall. Nothing did. Just the sweet sensation of her lips against his as his hand curled around her ass, giving and taking all at the same time.
Damn, he needed to stop thinking about her, especially with her son sitting six feet away. “You want something to eat?” he asked Michael, clearing his throat to stop his voice from sounding so low and thick. “I have a few bags of chips in the cupboard.”
Michael shook his head. “I’m trying to cut down on saturated fat.”
Logan laughed again. “Kid, you don’t have an ounce of fat on you. You’re too young to worry about putting on weight.”
Michael shrugged. “I read an article about macros.” His eyes flickered up to Cam’s. “I heard you try to follow them when you’re playing.”
Cam blinked. Michael had been reading about him? That was weird. And maybe a little flattering. “I do try to eat better when I’m training or playing,” Cam agreed. “But a few chips never hurt.”
Michael shrugged. “I’m still good.”
“You know what?” Cam drained the last of his coffee. “I think you’ve done enough yard work for today. Why don’t we go throw the football instead?”
“Seriously? Yeah, that’d be great.” Michael grinned.
“If you can put the mower away, I’ll grab a ball,” Cam told him.
Michael was out of the kitchen like a shot, leaving his half-drunk Coke on the counter.
“He’s a nice kid.” Logan gave Cam a strange stare. “I think he has a bit of a hero complex about you, though.”
“Are you going to come play ball?” Cam didn’t want to think about any kind of complexes.
“Yeah, I’ll throw a few. But first you need to tell me who this blonde is. Somebody I know? Or did she come visit you from Boston?”
Cam looked away from his twin, in case he could read the truth in his eyes. “It was nobody. Just a one time thing.” Grabbing a ball from the closet, he hitched it under his arm and headed toward the yard. “You coming?”
How’s your shoulder? – C xx
Holding up. I’m thinking it might only be $5000 worth of damage. – M
That’s reduced by 50% in a few days. By next week I’ll owe you nothing ;) – C xx
That’s not how reducing something by 50% works. It’ll be reduced to a quarter by next week. Then an eighth after that. Do you need a math refresher? – M
You can give it to me on Saturday morning. After I’ve made you come. – C xx
Who says I’m coming on Saturday morning? In either respect? – M
You’ll be there. – C xx
So sure of yourself. – M
Yep. And sure of you, too. I’ll see you on Saturday. – C xx
Not if my shoulder’s still hurting, you won’t. - M
“Coffee’s up.” Becca craned her head around Mia’s office doorway. “You want me to bring it in, or are you joining us in the kitchen?”
Mia shut the lid on her laptop and pushed herself up to standing. “I’ll drink it with you guys. I could do with a break. I don’t think I’ve moved from my desk since I got in this morning.”
“That’s why I could never do a desk job.” Becca wrinkled her nose as they walked down the hallway. “I can’t sit still for five minutes. If I do, my legs start twitching.”
Mia laughed.
“It’s true,” Becca told her. “When I have to do any kind of desk work, I have sleepless nights. I prefer standing and doing something.”
That was something Becca had in common with Cam. Mia had noticed how he didn’t like sitting still, either. He’d called her last night while he was running, his breath as regular as the sound of his feet hitting the pavement. She’d asked him how far he was running, and he’d told her he was doing a half marathon.
“And you can still talk?” She’d widened her eyes in shock. “How is that possible?”
He’d either called or texted her every night. And if she was honest, she liked it. Maybe too much. Especially when he asked if she was coming to his place on Saturday, and she demurred.
The chase was fun. So was he. And she was enjoying it for a while. It didn’t mean anything, and it damn sure wasn’t going anywhere. But it made her feel desirable, and she was going to enjoy it while she could.
“Hey!” Naomi, one of G. Scott Carter’s accountants, smiled as Becca and Mia walked into the kitchen. It was full to bursting. There were eight of them in the coffee syndicate and the kitchen was pretty small.
“Hi, how’s it going?” Mia asked her.
“This is making it better,” Naomi said, lifting up her coffee cup. “We got donuts, too. They’re on the side over there.” She gestured at the far end of the counter. “Make sure you take one before you leave, because if the guys see them, they’ll steal them all.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Becca muttered. “They kno
w they’re our donuts. If they want some they can buy their own.”
Mia bit down a smile. The rivalry between the coffee syndicate and non-members was legendary in the distillery. The guys had refused to join, yet bitched every time the coffee arrived that nobody had asked if they wanted to order.
“They can make their own damn group,” Naomi muttered. “Donut stealing assholes.”
“Mia?”
She looked up from her coffee up, a smile still threatening her lips. The receptionist was standing in the hallway, and behind her was a woman wearing dark training pants and a white polo shirt.
“Hi Sandy, everything okay?” Mia shot her a smile.
“I tried calling your office, but you weren’t there. This lady has been asking for you.” Sandy pressed her lips together. “Did you order a masseuse?”
Becca burst out laughing. Behind her, Naomi choked on her coffee.
“Um, no.” Mia shook her head. “I really didn’t.”
“Mia Devlin, right?” the masseuse asked. She looked like she was barely out of college. “I have you down for a shoulder massage. Sports injury?”
“You play sports?” Becca asked. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s your left shoulder, is that correct?” the masseuse asked. “Suspected pulled ligament. Injury happened on Saturday. If you give me thirty minutes of your time, I can make it feel a lot better.” She smiled widely. “It’s already paid for.”
The penny dropped. She knew exactly who’d arranged this. “I really don’t have time,” Mia told her. “I’m working all day.”
“You have lunch coming up soon,” Sandy said, trying to be helpful. “Why not take it a little early?”
“Girl, if you don’t want a free massage, I’ll take it.” Naomi grinned at her. “My shoulders are stiff as heck. I keep leaning too far over my keyboard.”
“That’s really bad for you,” the masseuse told Naomi. “You should think about getting some ergonomic advice.”
Mia finished her coffee. “Can you stay here for one moment?” she asked the woman. “I need to make a quick phone call.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll leave you here,” Sandy said, giving the masseuse a nod. “I shouldn’t leave the front desk unmanned for too long.”
Pulling the door to her office closed, Mia picked up her cellphone, taking a deep breath as she pressed the call sign next to Cam’s name. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Seriously? A masseuse?”
“You said your shoulder was still hurting. Fifty percent pain, wasn’t it? I figured a massage could get it down to, say, twenty. Have you been icing it like I told you?”
“No.”
“You need to ice it, Mia. And keep it rested as much as you can.”
“A massage isn’t exactly rest.”
“The therapist I sent is the best in the area. She works with professional teams. Let her massage you, and then tell me if it hasn’t helped.”
“Cam…”
“What, baby?”
His endearment sent a shiver down her spine. “You can’t be sending masseuses to my workplace. I have a reputation here, and I’m trying to keep it.”
“I’m just trying to make you feel better. So you can have a good time with me on Saturday.”
Damn, he was persistent. She hated that she liked it. “I still haven’t said I’ll be there,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, but you will. And this way you can leave with no pain. Just pleasure. Now hang up and get that massage, okay? I’m busy.”
She laughed. “You are not.”
“Yep I am. I’m trying to work out how I’ll take you first. In the kitchen, maybe? But I’m not sure I’ll be able to wait that long. Maybe in the hallway as soon as you’ve walked in. Then we can save the second time for the bedroom.”
Mia shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“If I knew what that meant, I’d agree.”
“I’m going now. Some idiot sent a masseuse over. I’m going to have to let her touch me all over.”
“You can tell me all about it on Saturday.”
“You’re annoying, you know that?”
There was a grin in his voice. “So I’ve been told. See you Saturday.”
“Maybe.”
“I like maybe. It’s better than no.”
She shook her head. “Goodbye, Cam.” Throwing her cellphone on the table, she rolled her neck and headed back to the kitchen.
The masseuse was leaning against the counter, sipping a coffee that one of the ladies must have given her. She looked up with a smile as Mia entered. “Are you ready?”
“Yep. Shall we do it in my office?” There was no point in sending her away. And though she’d exaggerated the pain to mess with Cam, there were still twinges that shot through her every time she raised her arm.
“Great. Lead the way.”
“So how was school?” Mia asked, as they ate dinner at the kitchen table that night. It was a rare evening when Sam wasn’t expected at the bar until later, so he’d sat down to join them, shoveling the spaghetti Bolognese into his mouth with gusto.
“Fine.” Michael twirled his spaghetti around his fork. She could remember teaching him how to do it at their favorite Italian restaurant in Kansas City. Niall had laughed at them, telling Michael he should just cut the damn noodles like everybody else did.
Josh, on the other hand, was hacking at his pasta with his knife, then using his fork to shovel it into his mouth.
She had some work to do with him.
“I have a project to do,” Josh announced, a piece of pasta flying out of his overstuffed mouth.
“Try not to speak with your mouth full, honey,” Mia reminded him. When he’d swallowed the food and had taken a sip of water, she asked him, “What kind of project?”
“Science. We have to make a life size human, then add in all his organs and bones and stuff. We’re getting the supplies this week and it’s due next Friday.” He grinned, and loaded more spaghetti on his fork, lifting it to his mouth. Then, remembering he wasn’t supposed to eat and speak at the same time, he dropped the fork to his plate. “We get to draw all the blood and guts and stuff. And then we have to present it to the class.”
Mia pressed her lips together. If there was one thing she didn’t need right now, it was a school project. She was already working hours each night on her proposals, plus they had football and church on the weekends, not including the work they were doing together on Sam’s house. Over the next few weeks they were going to paint the hallway.
“Maybe you should miss pee wee practice this week,” Mia suggested. “So we can get a headstart on the project.”
“No!” Josh frowned. “I really want to go to football. Noah says I can stay over again. Can’t we do it on Sunday?”
Mia sighed. “I don’t think we can complete it in one day.”
“I’ll work on it every night next week,” Josh promised. “Please, Mom.” He looked over at his brother. “Michael will help, won’t you? If Mom’s busy with her own work?”
Michael twirled another forkful of spaghetti. “You don’t need my help. You’re big enough to do it on your own.”
Mia caught her eldest’s eye. “It would really help me if you could work with Josh,” she told him. “I have a presentation next Friday I need to prepare for.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “What about my assignments?”
“You told me you had hardly any homework,” Mia pointed out.
“Okay, I’ll help him. But he has to listen and do as he’s told.”
“I will.” Josh’s face lit up. “I promise.”
Mia gave them a gentle smile. “Thank you,” she said softly. “That will help a lot.”
“You eating the rest of that?” Sam asked, pointing at Mia’s plate. She blinked because she’d almost forgotten he was there.
“It’s yours,” she said, passing her plate to him.
“Did practice go
okay tonight?” she asked Michael.
“Yeah. I’m officially in junior varsity.” Michael beamed proudly. “I get to play in the game next week.”
“That’s wonderful.” Mia leaned across the table and hugged him. He took it good naturedly, his face flushing with pleasure. “Congratulations, I’m proud of you.”
“I… ah… got a call from dad, too,” Michael told her, looking down at his plate as though it was the most interesting thing on Earth.
“Your dad called you?” Mia swallowed. Niall hadn’t spoken to either of her sons since he’d left. Hadn’t spoken to her, either. Only through their lawyers.
“Yeah. He’s called a couple of times.” Michael shrugged. “He wanted to know if he could visit soon. I told him about being on the football team, and he wants to see me play.”
“Is he coming to see me play, too?” Josh asked, his voice small.
Michael glanced at his little brother. “I didn’t tell him about your pee wee lessons. I should have. Sorry, kiddo. I’ll tell him next time he calls.”
Sam put his silverware on his plate and looked over at Mia. Running his finger along his bottom lip, he gave her a questioning look.
She shrugged at him.
“Did he say when he was coming?” she asked Michael.
“I dunno. He asked me to send him the game schedule. I guess he’ll see when he can fit it in.”
“Is he still living in our house in Kansas City?” Josh asked.
“No, dummy. We sold it, remember?” Michael rolled his eyes. “He’s living in Wichita right now.” He glanced up at Mia. “He’s still with his girlfriend.” His voice was wary, almost afraid.
She smiled at him. “I know, sweetie.”
Michael’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Do you think it’ll be okay if they come watch?”
“It’ll be fine,” she reassured him. Whatever happened with her and Niall had nothing to do with the children. He’d always be their father, and they deserved to be noticed by him.
If that meant putting up with him while he was here, she’d do it. As long as her boys didn’t get hurt.
“Did I hear somebody say something about ice cream?” Sam asked. She shot him a grateful smile.