Playing House: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance (The Playboys of Sin Valley Book 1)

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Playing House: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance (The Playboys of Sin Valley Book 1) Page 1

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller




  Playing House

  The Playboys of Sin Valley Book 1

  Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Playing House (A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance)

  Copyright © 2021 Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents appearing therein are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status of the various products referenced in this work.

  Amazon’s Kindle Store is the only authorized distributor of this ebook. If you have downloaded or purchased it from any other distributor, please note that you have received an illegal copy. This not only violates the author’s copyright, deprives the author of royalties due and puts the book at risk of being removed from Kindle distribution, but it also exposes you to computer viruses, theft of your personal information by book pirates and potential legal prosecution.

  Cover photo: Furious Fotog/Golden Czermak

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Stories by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  About “Playing House”

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Epilogue

  So, what to read now…?

  Dirty Cameos & Easter Eggs

  Stories by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  The Playboys of Sin Valley

  Playing House

  Playing Pretend

  Playing Along

  Playing Rough

  The Bad Boys in Love Series

  Mister Billions

  Mister Baller

  Mister Baby Daddy

  Mister Bossy

  The Blue Collar Bachelors Series

  Lover Boy

  Play Boy

  Bad Boy

  Hot Boy

  Rich Boy

  Dream Boy

  Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set

  The Dirty Suburbs Series

  Dirty Neighbor

  Dirty Player

  Dirty Stranger

  Dirty Favor

  Dirty Lover

  Dirty Farmer

  Dirty Silver

  Dirty Forever

  Dirty Christmas

  The Esquire Girls Series

  Amber Nights (Amber – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)

  Madison’s Story

  For Madison, Always (Madison – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)

  Ruthie’s Story

  Ruthie’s Desire (Ruthie – Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)

  Hailey’s story

  Moments with Hailey (Hailey - Books 1, 2, 3 & 4)

  Esquire HEAT Series

  A Very Eager Intern

  A Very Frustrated Attorney

  Standalone Novels

  Holiday Hookup with the Rockstar

  Happy New You

  Psst…Join Dirty Folks, my Facebook reader group, to always be in the loop about what I’m working on next!

  About “Playing House”

  I only showed up to crash my best friend's sister's wedding. So how did I become the groom?! Oops!

  When I charged up those courthouse steps to stop Sera's wedding, I didn't exactly have a plan.

  But there's no way I was letting my best friend's little sister marry some no-good tool who doesn't deserve her.

  Let's just say things got out of control. Fast.

  Now, the wedding is off. And Sera is crushed. And I'm just trying to be a good friend.

  "Come stay at my place. Until you're back on your feet."

  "Have some tequila. It'll ease the pain."

  "And what's a few much-needed orgasms between friends?"

  Well, maybe I crossed the line with that last one.

  Oh, but it gets worse...

  Because we just woke up naked and hungover. And Sera's wearing a big, ugly diamond ring.

  On second thought, "oops!" might be an understatement.

  I mean--I'm Jason Bellino. Confirmed bachelor. Pro football's ultimate playboy...I don't do relationships.

  And she's my complete opposite. A good girl. A rule-follower. The Sweetheart of Sin Valley...She doesn't do no-strings-attached flings.

  Talk about 'opposites attract'.

  Now, we've got this whole accidental marriage situation going on. Hot damn. I'm completely in over my head.

  But married life isn't half-bad, I guess. I could get used to the wall-shaking orgasms, the laughing and bantering together over our breakfast cereal, her cheering me on at my football games.

  I should be trying to get rid of her. But more and more, I just want her to stay.

  So how do I convince my oopsie-wife to play house with me...forever?

  Playing House is a steamy, laugh-out-loud, best friend's sister, accidental marriage small town romance. It is set in small town Iowa and is book one in the Playboys of Sin Valley series.

  One

  Jace

  Electric undercurrents flood the glittering Strip. Lights and billboards and flashing things everywhere.

  Glitzy casinos. Gorgeous women. Endless booze...A playboy's dream.

  I drive past the Welcome to Sin Valley sign…

  And a giant glob of bird poop splatters my windshield—a pretty accurate representation of my feelings about this day.

  “Well, shit... " Declan leans forward from the backseat and braces an arm on my headrest to observe the damage, a sloppy hamburger clutched in his fist.

  Next to me, Knox drops his skull against the back of his seat and groans. The bird crap is further confirmation of what he's been saying all along. "I'm telling you guys—this whole wedding thing is gonna be a drag."

  I flip a switch and windshield fluid spritzes the glass as my sleek sportscar coasts down the traffic-jammed Strip under the waning sun.

  My face strains into a mile-wide grin that feels like concrete on my lips. “Bird shit is good luck. The wedding’s gonna be great.” I push the words past the football-sized lump lying sideways across my throat. I tug at the tie strangling my windpipe. “Sera’s getting married. It’s gonna be great. So won
derful and…great.”

  My stomach muscles wring hard at the lie.

  I’m trying to act like my usual, easygoing self. I’m not sure I’m pulling it off. The truth is, my palms are sweaty against the steering wheel, my scalp is tight, my nervous system is buzzing like I’ve been doing laps in a swimming pool of extra-strong coffee all day.

  Play it cool. Grin and bear it.

  I grab my takeout cup from the drink holder and take an icy swallow to wash down my anxiety. Up to this point, I’ve been playing the role of the bride’s supportive friend.

  I showed up at her dress fitting for moral support.

  I kept her fed while she was running around looking at wedding venues, forgetting to take care of herself.

  I made it my job to keep the mood light when the pressure of the wedding planning was weighing her down.

  I agreed to walk her down the aisle when her older brother said he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it home in time for the big event.

  The courthouse is just around the corner and two streets down. No sense in dropping the nice guy act now.

  Suck it up, man. You can do this.

  My dashboard lights up, notifying me of an incoming call from Rocky Pfeiffer—the groom. Instantly, my jaw clenches. I casually hit ‘decline’ on the screen like it’s no big deal.

  Wordlessly, Declan and Knox share a look. I ignore them, too.

  Declan pounds the back of my headrest with finality, causing mayonnaise from his sandwich to drip onto the shoulder of my suit jacket. “That’s it! As soon as this wedding is over, I’m dragging your sorry asses to the strip club. You both need a little pick-me-up.” In my periphery, I see my idiot half-brother grinning like a baby crocodile and waggling his eyebrows in the creepiest way possible.

  Normally, I'd share Declan’s enthusiasm. I'm no stick in the mud. I know how to have a good time. And under regular circumstances, a night-out in Sin Valley is fun.

  But this is not 'regular circumstances'. This is not business as usual. This day is my personal apocalypse.

  I'm just trying to keep it together on the outside, trying to keep the simmering panic from leaking out onto my face. But my stomach is rumbling like I’ve got a troop of baby elephants mud-wrestling around in there as I drive toward a reality I'm not ready to face.

  Keep it together. Hang in there. It’ll be over soon. My inner life coach is working overtime today.

  I make a right turn off of the Strip, onto Willis Street. It’s like driving into a whole different universe. Dull, outdated, unsexy government buildings flanking one side of the quiet road. Crumbling mom and pop storefronts cluttering the other side.

  Sin Valley is like any other small town across America. Quiet, friendly, sleepy. With gossipy neighbors peaking over their hedges and familiar faces in the aisles of the pharmacy. But the Strip is different. The Strip is a playground for debauchery. A place for excessive gambling, spontaneous weddings and other ill-advised life choices. A lot like Las Vegas. But cooler. Way cooler. People from all over the country show up here looking for a good time.

  “I don’t need to go to a strip club,” Knox mumbles up at the sunroof.

  Declan’s not having it. “I beg to freakin’ differ. Your divorce is final. At last. You need to stop moping. It’s time for you to start living again, man. At the strip club.”

  “Deck, give the guy a break,” I chuckle weakly.

  Knox is my teammate on the Iowa Paragons. He’s had a rough year. Divorce. Custody battle. That kind of stuff. He’s not handling it too well.

  Declan turns his attention my way. “And as for you, you must be exhausted from all that fake-ass smiling you’ve been doing these past few weeks, watching Sera plan this wedding. You deserve a night of fun. At the strip club.”

  I shrug Declan off my shoulder when another drop of his mayo leaks onto my suit jacket. I unroll that big, ol’ grin again. God—my face is gonna need months of physiotherapy by the time this wedding is over. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I casually grab my burger from the brown paper bag beside me and take a big bite. My stomach screeches like a race car doing a Formula One circuit. I don’t feel that great. I take a sniff of my sandwich. “I think this burger meat is bad. Does yours taste funny?” I glance at my brother.

  “The burger meat’s fine,” he states matter-of-factly. “That’s just the sound of your stomach trying to tear itself apart because the woman you love is about to marry somebody else.” Declan tosses his empty wrapper at my head. “You did this to yourself. I told you to claim her while you still had the chance. You didn’t listen. Now look at you.”

  Knox lifts an eyebrow at me from beneath the bill of his baseball cap. “He’s right, bro. You’re not fooling anybody with the Mr. Congeniality shit you’ve been doing. I know you. I know you’ve been wanting to rip Rocky’s face off with your fingernails this whole time.” He shoves a few French fries into his mouth and his big, brown hand brushes salt off the front of his rumpled suit jacket.

  I dump the sandwich back in the bag and grab a mozzarella stick. “For the last freaking time—I’m not in love with Sera.” I scramble for a logical explanation. “It’s just…Rocky. I don’t like the guy, okay? There. I said it.” Frustrated, I shove my fingers into my wavy dark hair and pull. “He’s a self-centered asshole. And he’s all wrong for Sera. He dumped all the wedding planning on her. Forced her to get it all done in just a few weeks so he could focus on the football season. And when the pressure of it almost cracked her, he pressed fast-forward on the whole thing and made her settle for a courthouse wedding when that’s clearly the last thing she really wants.” I growl. “Selfish. Bastard.”

  “Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now. You missed your shot with Sera. It’s very sad…but it’s time to move on. At the strip club.” Declan displays that goofy, infuriating grin again. “The one we went to last night for Rocky’s bachelor party was awesome. Topless chicks on a merry-go-round. Private dances in blacklight rooms. The dancers even had these payment processor thingies on their ankles so you could tip them with credit or debit if you ran out of dollar bills. And some of the girls had great personalities.” He nods slowly, a solemn, faraway look on his face. “I met this chick who works part-time as a doula. Another one read my astrology chart for free! And I had a really deep conversation with this other dancer—Carrie—about climate change.”

  Knox picks up his head and swivels his neck to gape into the backseat. “I worry about you, Deck…” He shakes his head and chomps down on another French fry.

  Declan keeps rambling on but all I can think about is Rocky hanging out with freaking strippers the night before marrying the most amazing woman on the planet. What a fool!

  I glare at my brother over my shoulder. “You realize that your whole stripper fascination is just a distraction from your real issues, right?” I wipe my shoulder with a crumpled up napkin, sounding like a resentful old man, grumpy after a Viagra bad-trip. But I’m annoyed—my brother’s been in denial about his feelings for his ex-bandmate’s sister for a decade. He just refuses to see it. “The party boy life is gonna get old eventually. And then, you're gonna wake up one morning and..."

  My words trail off, swallowed up by the grating sound of the windshield wipers still swiping back and forth over the window. I keep my eyes straight ahead on the road but I feel my smile slowly starting to peel off at the corners as the reality of Sera’s wedding becomes really, really real. Too real.

  “I'm gonna wake up one morning and what?” Declan challenges as he grabs his suit jacket from the seat beside him and tugs it on.

  And your favorite person in the world will be marrying some asshat who doesn't deserve her, and it'll be too late for you to do a damn thing about it.

  That’s what I want to say. But my tongue is dry and heavy like a plank of lumber as the mental image of Sera silently tortures me.

  She's standing at the front of a dreary courtroom, under a blinking fluorescent light. She's f
loating in a cloud of white silk and lace. She's saying 'I do' to a man who isn't me. I stand by helplessly as some lethargic judge uninterestedly pronounces her another man's wife.

  She deserves better than that. Dammit!

  Scrubbing a hand down my face, I try to chase away this anxiety. I hate to admit it but I really am a dumbass.

  Because this is not some sob story about a guy who's been in love with the same girl since grade school but couldn't work up the guts to tell her.

  For years, Sera really was just my friend. Nothing more. I was living my life, doing my thing, running around like, 'I'm Jason Bellino, bad boy football player. Look at me running through random women like it’s a professional sport.’ And then Sera got engaged.

  That’s when it started creeping up.

  Feelings. Strange feelings. Deep feelings. They jumped out from behind the shower curtain when I was leaned over the toilet taking a piss. These feelings snuck up on me by surprise.

 

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