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

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  But she wants an annulment and I promised I’d give it to her. If I were good at keeping promises, I would have already called up my own lawyer and passed the relevant information along.

  But as the days go on, I can’t get the look of her flushed cheeks out of my mind, the sound of her sighs on our wedding night. I can’t forget the feel of her skin. The taste of her lips. Her one-of-a-kind scent.

  I keep going back and forth on this. One minute, I’m ready to dive right in and claim Sera for myself. The next minute, I just want to run screaming in the opposite direction.

  I’m not a relationship kind of guy. I witnessed my parents piss all over the institution of marriage.

  My mother has a serious issue with fidelity. The woman has never had a husband she hasn’t cheated on. And trust me, she’s had more than a few husbands.

  As for my father, the past twenty years have been his ongoing midlife crisis. Every few years, he upgrades to a younger wife and in a matter of months, he’s practically using his wedding vows to wipe his ass.

  Neither of my parents were ever interested in raising a kid. Granny—Dad’s mother—was the only adult in my life who made it a priority to ensure that I always had a roof over my head, food in my belly and that my half-brother and I maintained a relationship.

  Anyway, my childhood experiences showed me that the whole ‘marriage and happy family’ thing is virtually a farce. And I promised myself I’d never be a part of it.

  Until I woke up one morning with the most perfect woman in the world staring at me in horror, with her hand on my dick and my wedding band on her ring finger.

  My family history is telling me to run far, far away. But my heart is telling me to fight for her even though I have no clue what’s supposed to come next. Well, I think…I think I’m going to fight for Sera.

  It’s not going to be easy, though.

  I won’t pretend I know what I’m doing or what I’m hoping to get out of this. All I know is I don’t want Sera shutting the door on us. Not without giving me a shot.

  It’s been torture getting through the past few days without seeing her pretty face. So, I’ve been taking every excuse to check in on her since I left town. Sometimes, several times a day. We keep the conversation light and playful. We don’t shy away from the long, comfortable silences. We even fell asleep on the phone together two nights in a row.

  So, when her name pops up on my phone as I’m sitting here at the back of the plane, my whole body perks up.

  Sera: How do I adjust your thermostat?!

  Sera: I think I’m gonna need an astrophysics degree to figure this thing out. Why is it so complicated????

  Sera: I’m a frozen popsicle over here. help!

  I chuckle at the photo she attaches of herself. She’s sitting on my bed with my comforter draped over her like a mummy. She’s all bundled up from head to toe. Her lips are pouted at the camera and the tip of her nose is adorably red.

  I video-call her right back.

  As usual, she answers with a frown. “Can’t you ever just text back like a regular person?” She peeks an eye out from beneath the blanket-cape over her head.

  I try scowling through my quiet laughter. “I’m a busy man, Sera. Do you want help adjusting the thermostat? Or do you just wanna sit there and whine?”

  She makes dagger-eyes at me. “Help adjusting the thermostat, please.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  She drags herself over to the panel on the wall and I walk her through the process. Keeping my voice low so as not to draw the attention of my teammates, I stay on the phone with Sera while she jabs at the buttons and I insist on keeping her on the line until the temperature in the apartment starts to climb.

  She sits on the edge of the bed and she squints at me through the screen, a soft smile playing on her mouth. And I just want her. I want her all for myself, in every single way and I resent everything in the world that’s keeping me from her right this minute.

  Rocky is a fool. How could any man with even half a brain walk away from that gorgeous perfection?

  After a long, quiet beat, I ask, “Has he called?”

  I don’t even have to utter his name. Immediately, she knows who I’m talking about.

  At the pained look on her face, I’m pissed at myself for mentioning him but I need to know how much of an obstacle Sera’s ex still is. Does she still want him?

  She nods distractedly as she fiddles with the edge of the comforter. “Yeah, Rocky called. I answered. I was oddly calm about the whole thing. I told him I'd call him when I'm ready to talk. He said he'd respect my space. The whole thing was so...formal. Polite.”

  I sound like an absolute Neanderthal when I growl. “That fucking bastard. I want to use his face as a punching bag right now.”

  Sera tilts her head to the side. “Jace…”

  “No seriously. What he did to you was fucking disgusting. He’s trash.”

  She sighs steadily. “I’m okay now. I promise. And I’ve been thinking…I should have known that things were going to fall apart with me and Rocky. It was all just…too good to be true, y’know?”

  “What do you mean by that?” My eyes narrow down to angry slits and if she says what I think she’s about to say, I’m going to be really pissed.

  “I’m not the kind of girl who ends up with someone like Rocky. He’s a pro-athlete. He’s good-looking. He’s—”

  “Stop talking, Sera…”

  “No, I can take it. I can face the truth. We were always a mismatch. I’m plain and I’m okay with that. I may not have the longest legs or the biggest boobs, and I’ve got the nerdy glasses and boring brown hair—”

  “Sera, I said stop talking.”

  “I’m the safe girl, the good girl. The girl who ends up with Ken from accounting. Or at best, Dale, the assistant regional manager at a paper distribution company in the warehouse district and—”

  “Sera! Shut. Up.” My voice cracks like a whip, drawing a glance from Knox who’s watching YouTube videos on his phone across the aisle from me. I lower my voice and hiss. “Fuck that guy. Fuck him. Take him off the fucking pedestal in your mind. I don’t care if he’s a pro athlete, or if he’s ‘good-looking’, or if he’s got a three-foot dick covered in diamonds and he shits rainbows and Super Bowl rings when he sits on the toilet every morning. He’s a spineless coward. He doesn’t get to shape the opinion you carry of yourself.”

  Her bottom lip is quivering now. Shit. What the hell am I doing?

  “I don’t have him on a pedestal, Jace. I’m just saying…I understand why he didn’t want to be with me.”

  “Listen to me. You are beautiful. You have the body of a goddess and the face of an angel. Plus, you’re a real-life genius. And your heart, Sera, you have a heart that’s way too big for your tiny body.” I growl. “This is his fuck-up. Not yours. You don’t have to own it and you don’t have to let it become a part of who you are.”

  These are the things I wanted to say to her when we were sitting face to face in the nightclub and she was wearing that wedding dress and crying into her fishbowl cocktail and doubting everything she thought she knew about herself. I couldn’t get the words out that night. But somehow I can’t stop talking now that there’s a phone screen and a thousand miles between us.

  My jaw ticks with anger and I force myself to suck in a breath. “I wish he’d never been a part of your life, Sera. I’m so glad you didn’t marry that asshat. He didn’t deserve you.”

  She’s sniffling, blotting her eyes with paper napkins. “I see that now.”

  There’s so much more I want to say. I want to tell her I’m the only man who’d be good for her. I want to tell her that she belongs with me alone. Accident or not, I’m her husband, dammit.

  But I need to pull the brakes before I go too far. As much as I want to utter the words and claim her once and for all, it terrifies me.

  So, instead I wish her a good day and I end the call. But long after we’ve hung up, I’m still th
inking about her.

  I can’t get the image of her out of my head, all wrapped up in my blankets looking absolutely adorable. I love to keep my place cold as fuck, so no doubt, she has been walking around like a damn popsicle these past few days. Especially since she’s been wearing nothing but my jerseys all day. She’s been avoiding going to Rocky’s condo to pick up her stuff and she doesn’t have any clothes at my house. I love seeing her in my stuff but she must be sick of wearing clothes that don’t fit right.

  I should do something about that.

  I slide my headphones down to my neck and pull my phone out of my front pocket. I run a quick internet search for women’s clothing stores in town. I start browsing through the photo gallery but I get overwhelmed. Fast. I have no clue what she needs or what she’d even like, and I don’t want to insult her by sending her something that’s the wrong style. So, I buy her a gift certificate for a thousand dollars.

  Hell—is that even enough? I don’t know how much women’s clothes cost. So I throw in another thousand.

  I email the gift certificate to her along with a note telling her to go out shopping and buy whatever clothes she needs. She’s been through so much over the past week. I just want to make her life easier.

  Another idea hits me. I continue frantically tapping away in my internet search bar.

  Knox leans across the aisle from where he’s sitting in the back of the plane with me. “Dude. You okay? What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing,” I mumble, not looking away from my phone.

  “Doesn’t look like nothing. You look like you’re seconds away from a nervous fucking breakdown. You’re shaking the whole row of seats with your annoying leg tapping.” He points at my knee.

  I smooth a palm down my thigh, forcing my leg to quit bouncing. It takes more effort than it should. “Sorry,” I say, still distracted. “Hey, do you remember the name of the spa the team masseuse works at? Do they do home visits?”

  Knox leans forward, drumming his fingers over the back of the seat. “Yeah. It’s…Harmony. Harmony something or other.”

  I start typing that into my phone, clicking through companies that sound familiar in the Sin Valley area.

  Jude turns around in his seat, a cautious look on his face. “You trying to fuck the team masseuse?”

  “What?” My head rears back and I glare at my friend. He’s seated just in front of Knox. I thought he was too busy playing video games on his phone to eavesdrop. Apparently, he’s into multitasking.

  He winces and rubs his knee. The one he injured not that long ago. “Just know that I won’t hesitate to kick your ass if the poor woman has to quit on us when you break her fucking heart,” Jude says casually, like he didn’t just threaten to beat me. “Don’t make things awkward for the rest of us, dude.”

  “Seriously. What the fuck? I’m not that bad, am I?”

  I look to Knox for reassurance, and the asshole just shrugs. Damn.

  “I’m not trying to fuck the masseuse, dickheads. I’m trying to hire somebody to go to my condo and give Sera a massage.”

  That earns me a few raised eyebrows. Now, I feel the need to explain myself.

  “Girls like that sort of thing when they’re stressed out and stuff. Right?”

  The two massive defensemen in the seats ahead of mine turn around to join the conversation. “Since when do you care about any girl’s feelings?” Cora asks, raising his ugly eyebrows at me.

  Great. I’m the team spectacle for the day.

  Doesn’t matter though. I’m on a mission to claim the girl of my dreams. It’ll all be worth it in the end.

  Ignoring the meatheads all around me, I make the call to the masseuse. I purchase the ‘Savage Goddess Queen’ deluxe at-home spa package, whatever that means. I don’t know. It sounds like exactly what Sera needs.

  When I finish setting up the in-home appointment, my fidgeting muscles relax. Finally, I fall back into my leather seat, not bothering to hide the shit-eating grin on my face.

  “Sera’s going to be so surprised when the masseuse shows up. By the time that massage is over, she’ll be so fucking relaxed, she won’t remember Rocky’s stupid name.” Wait—did I just say that out loud?

  The amused expression on Knox’s face seems to confirm it. He lowers his ball cap to hide it.

  Fletcher cackles like a hyena, his hot breath washing over my face. He smells like Doritos. “Looks like the playboy of Sin Valley is going soft on us, boys!”

  I’ll admit it—when he says that, terror flashes through me.

  “Bro, you should see your face right now.” Fletcher laughs some more.

  Cora holds up his phone and snaps a picture of my face. “Collateral.”

  The terrified feeling doesn’t last, though. Fine. I’m going soft. The mere thought of my beautiful wife makes me granite-hard in an instant so that’s the only thing that matters.

  This is Sera we’re talking about. Not some random chick I had a fling with on the road. Not some bar hookup, hungry for a one-night stand. Or an overeager groupie ready to drop to her knees for any athlete.

  Sera is more than that to me. She always was. Even when I couldn’t see it.

  More and more, I realize that I don’t want to forget about my wild fucking night with her. I don’t want to let her go. And I don’t want to ignore all the possibilities we have to choose from.

  Ending this marriage is not the only option for us.

  “That’s fine. More pretty ladies for the rest of us.” Cora waggles his ugly eyebrows.

  Yo! That guy’s eyebrows really bother me.

  Anyway, the two doofuses high-five each other and fall back into their seats, still cackling.

  “Don’t listen to those idiots,” Jude says, flipping off our teammates. “I think it’s time you start growing up. You’re almost thirty. It’s about time you had a real girlfriend.”

  He’s one to talk. Jude Kingston used to be an even bigger scoundrel than I ever was, until not that long ago when he lost his head for his hot roommate and they tied the knot. The guy still has that dewy-fresh newly-wed glow about him.

  I groan. “Fucking thirty. Don't remind me.” Twenty-eight isn’t that close to thirty, is it?

  Knox nods. “He’s not wrong, man. I should tell you. We have a running bet on how many more one-night stands you have in you before your dick falls off.”

  I roll my eyes, letting my head drop back against the plush seat. I have to admit, I’ve fucking wondered that, too.

  Knox eagerly rubs his hands together. “So, you’re finally making your move on Sera, huh? Good for you. I’m proud.”

  “I’m…taking it slow.” I don’t think I’ve ever uttered that sentence before.

  Jason Bellino likes everything fast. Fast cars. Fast money. Fast girls. But with Sera, I wouldn’t mind going slow. All night.

  Now, I’ve just got to convince her to give me that.

  And maybe more.

  Eleven

  Sera

  I stand back with my fists on my waist and sweep my gaze over Jace’s luxury open-concept bachelor pad. If he stays gone much longer, he won’t recognize the place when he gets back. It was a dangerous decision to leave me alone here, fresh off of being dumped, with nothing in the world to do.

  I’ve been bored out of my mind.

  Earlier, I was sitting on the floor distractedly rearranging Jace’s sizeable movie and video game collection. Before I even realized what I was doing, I managed to organize all the DVD cases by color, creating a gorgeous (but impractical) rainbow-themed spread. As pretty as it may be to look at, I’ve completely screwed up the alphabetical arrangement.

  Jace is gonna be so pissed when he can’t find the second season of Seinfeld, because it’s nestled neatly among the dark blues.

  I begged Desiree to let me secretly work on some of her projects remotely, but she’s keeping me out of the loop, too.

  Boss’s orders, she says.

  To soften the blow, she sent me a little care ba
sket, something she said that helped her through her own divorce. Junk food, a stack of trashy Blakely Hamilton romance novels, a vibrator that would definitely raise eyebrows with HR. Plus, a creepy voodoo doll with Rocky’s name taped across the body.

  I’ve dipped into the snacks and smacked the voodoo doll around a little but shoved the rest in a corner.

  Since my boss won’t let me return to work early, I’ve been entertaining myself by obsessive-compulsively organizing and redecorating to keep busy. Amazon Prime Delivery really is a hermit’s best friend.

  Minka and Katrina have been blowing up my phone, trying to coax me into a girls’ night out. Meanwhile, Mom has made every attempt to get me to come over for dinner. Plus, there are the incessant calls from my brother, who seems to be irrationally afraid of me running out into oncoming traffic. But I’m not feeling all that sociable at the moment. I’d rather drown my mind in tasks that don’t require me to engage in conversation about how fucked up my life presently is. So, I left my phone on the charger in the bedroom while I’ve been busy in the kitchen all day.

  Earlier, I completed weeks and weeks of meal prep. I even typed up a handy little calendar to stick to the front of the stainless steel refrigerator, planning out each day’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Knowing Jace, he’ll probably whine that he doesn’t have time to cook everything that I’ve mapped out. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind cooking for him. I’d enjoy it, actually. I just really want him to eat properly. He eats like shit when he’s on the road.

  At the moment, I’m reorganizing the walk-in pantry, carefully shifting around boxes, canned goods and other non-perishables, making sure each shelf houses a different food group. I make sure to systemize everything by protein count.

  Tedious? Yes. Anal-retentive? Maybe.

  But at least when I’m analyzing dozens of nutrition labels, my head is firmly here in this pantry…not thinking about men. Men I’d like to get naked with.

  Okay, not ‘men’—because that sounds a bit reverse harem-y. There’s only one man on my mind. And he really shouldn’t be.