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

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  I snoop around a little bit, trying to piece together a picture of what Sera’s life was like before she and I got together. I’ve been in this house before but as I scan the place through the lens of everything that’s gone on over the past month or so, I’m realizing that Sera barely has a stamp on the place. It doesn’t look like a woman ever lived here at all. Nothing but Rocky’s shit all over the place. Signed sports memorabilia. College football trophies. A huge flat-screen and a bunch of video game consoles. A total bachelor pad.

  It’s worse than my place. In fact, in the days that Sera’s been staying with me, she’s added a splash of her personality to every corner of every room. Now that she’s living with me, there’s this intangible layer of softness to the place. I want more of her in my space. When I walk through the front door, I want every inch of my condo to say it belongs to the both of us. I want it to be as much mine as it is hers. I want her to know that it’s her home.

  I’m about to poke my head into the hallway bathroom to look around, when I hear a muffled gasp from the master bedroom down the hall.

  “Sera…?”

  I immediately stalk off in that direction. I shove my way through the half-closed door, nearly tripping over a kicked off boot on my way in. I find Sera standing over the bed, hands cupped over her mouth.

  “What? What’s going on?” I ask, my hands immediately on her shoulders.

  My eyes cruise around at the scene in front of us. The bedroom is a wreck. Mens’ clothes and shoes are scattered on the floor. There's another pile of shirts on the bed still on their hangers, half-laying across an open suitcase. It looks like someone started packing but then left in a huge fucking rush.

  Rocky, you fucking slob.

  But Sera’s attention is focused on one thing in particular. She’s staring at pictures scattered across the unmade bed. Pictures of Rocky with a woman. Pictures of…

  My mouth hangs open. “Is that the—?”

  “The stripper,” Sera finishes for me, her voice cracking. “That’s the stripper Rocky was with on our wedding day.”

  She’s right. The woman in these pictures looks a hell of a lot like the woman who was hovering over Rocky’s shoulder the day he was at the airport, about to make his great escape.

  She looks younger in the pictures, though. And she doesn’t have the wild purple hair. But I recognize her anyway.

  “I don’t understand,” Sera squeaks.

  Neither do I. I don’t know what any of it means, other than the fact that Rocky is a complete asshole. It’s clear that he didn’t just meet that stripper at his bachelor party or in the marriage department cafeteria moments before the wedding that never happened. Rocky and that woman have history.

  Sera’s reaction to this discovery guts me in an unexpected way. Her shoulders tremble next to me and I don’t like how pale she looks. Clearly, she’s devastated.

  When I pull her tiny body into my arms, she breaks down. Tears soak through my shirt, and I hold her tighter. “Fuck,” I exhale into her soft hair.

  She’s crying and she can’t stop.

  I don’t like the feeling of dread coiling deep in my belly. It feels a lot like jealous and doubt with a dash of resentment. I’d suspected it all along but was scared to even entertain the question.

  What if…what if Sera is not completely over Rocky? What if my wife is still in love with her ex?

  Twenty-Nine

  Jace

  We go around the table, revealing our cards as the dealer stands by, face stoic and unreadable.

  Declan smirks and slaps down his cards. He has two pairs—kings and threes. As always, he was bluffing the whole time and everyone knew it.

  I lean across the table and lay down my cards—a flush of spades. I’m feeling pretty confident about my chances of winning.

  But my eyes turn to Liam and the second I see the way his lips curve upward, I know I’m fucked.

  The bastard slaps down a full house, aces and tens.

  Shit.

  Declan tosses his head back and groans. “Seriously, dude? You win again? I don’t know how I feel about handing over all my hard-earned money to a billionaire.”

  The attendant gathers the chips to cash them out. The man hands Liam his winnings, then excuses himself, disappearing into a back room.

  Right on cue, Liam’s phone starts buzzing in his hand and he slides an uninterested glance over the screen. “I’ll give you boys a moment to cry in private. I need to take this call.” He glides out of his seat like he thinks he’s James fucking Bond. Declan continues to grumble as Liam stalks off.

  I chuckle under my breath. “Sore fucking loser, you are.”

  I can think of at least three other places I’d rather be right now. In my kitchen, eating a late dinner with Sera. On the couch, getting handsy under the blankets as we watch awfully cheesy rom coms. Or back in my bed, where we never should have left this morning.

  But instead, I’m seated in a secluded corner of one of the casinos on the Strip with Liam and Declan on a Saturday night.

  Liam rarely takes a break from counting his money bags these days and I don’t get to see my rockstar brother too often this time of year when our schedules are all sorts of fucked up. So as much as I’d prefer to be buried inside Sera’s warm little body, I guess I don’t mind catching up with my boys. Every now and then, we like to meet up here for a game of poker.

  Between the three of us, ladies are popping out of the woodwork tonight. I can’t help but feel like I’m getting too old for this shit.

  “Saturday night in this place is crazy,” Declan comments, lifting his beer to his lips.

  “Tell me about it,” I grumble. “If you just wanted to chat and catch up, we should have gone to an Applebee’s or some shit.”

  When Declan bursts out a laugh, he spits up lukewarm beer all over the tabletop.

  “Jeez, bro. Keep it together.” I shove a wad of napkins at him.

  Tonight’s game is blaring on the screens around the bar. Rocky’s team, the LA Boomerangs, is playing and I don’t have a lot of interest in that game. Unless the sucker gets sacked. I wouldn’t mind watching that on repeat a few dozen times.

  I’ve never liked Rocky a whole lot because I knew that Sera deserved better. But I definitely never thought he’d screw her over like he did.

  “Have you put on some weight, dude?” Declan quips when I’m tipping back my second beer.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I shouldn’t be drinking like this a few days before a game, but thinking back to the way Sera broke down this morning at Rocky’s apartment is making me a broody asshole right now.

  I hate admitting it but watching her crying like that over another man had me feeling insecure for a minute. I had to take a step back and evaluate the situation objectively. I mean, who could blame Sera for falling apart? Finding pictures of another woman at her ex-fiancé’s place is a whole next level of fucked up. Sera is the strongest fucking woman I know and I hate the way Rocky has made her question her worth.

  Her reaction was totally normal. She’s not still pining away for Rocky. She’s not planning to leave me.

  This is not like my parents. This is not like my parents.

  Declan cackles in amusement. “You’re looking a little soft. Is it from having a woman around the house, cooking and doing shit for you?”

  “You’re one to talk, in your skinny ass jeans.” I chug some more of my beer.

  “Hey, these jeans make my ass look good. All the ladies say so.” He flashes a wicked grin.

  I’d tell Declan he’s lost his mind, but out of the corner of my eye I see three tall ladies gawking at him, so what do I know? To each their own, I guess.

  Declan catches me up about the music he’s been recording and he fills me in on his plans to go on his first solo tour now that his band, the Rockhard Butterflies, have officially called it quits. He’s busy making a life for himself. I can respect that, and I’m proud of him.

  When he’s not
looking though, I’m busy texting Sera. It’s getting late, and she’s already in my bed. Waiting for me. It’s the best kind of torture.

  “I spoke to Dad today,” my half-brother announces.

  “Yeah? What’s he up to?”

  “He’s headed back to divorce court again.”

  I roll my eyes. “Why are you surprised?”

  It’s what our Dad does. He falls in love hard and fast, then he rushes into holy matrimony, only to run off screaming in the opposite direction a year or two later. And somehow, he’s always the victim when he recounts the story. The man refuses to take responsibility for his poor decisions and I don’t want to hear his bullshit anymore.

  Declan leans an elbow on our table. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, have you noticed anything strange going on with Granny lately?”

  I straighten in my seat, already on high alert. “What do you mean?”

  Declan scratches his head. “Well, when I went to visit the other day, I found a huge pair of men’s boxers on the bathroom floor. I asked her about it and she said it belonged to her new cat. It just left me wondering…is her mind deteriorating or something?”

  I roll my eyes. “Dude. She’s lying her sneaky little ass off. I think she has a new boyfriend and she’s trying to keep it from us.”

  “Whaaa…?” My brother wails, agonized.

  I nod. “Yeah, she’s probably got some old guy hidden in a sex dungeon over there and she’s trying to be slick about it.”

  Declan’s expression turns inside out. “Could you not mention ‘sex dungeons’ and my grandmother in the same sentence please?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “I’m immune to the trauma. In the words of Granny herself, ‘Every woman loves basket-weaving’.”

  “What?” my brother asks.

  “Fadoodling,” I try again.

  Declan gives me a blank face.

  I sigh like he’s a hopeless case. “Playing tangletoes…Shaking the sheets…Boiling the cabbage…Taking the intimate journey…Raveling up the little ball of yarn…” With each phrase I utter, my brother turns a shade greener.

  “Okay, I get it. Stop.” He holds up a hand and stumbles out of his seat. “I have a mental image of my grandmother shaking her ball of yarn with her new man-friend. I’m gonna be sick. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be curled up over a toilet in the men’s washroom.”

  Bringing my bottle to my lips, I chuckle into my beer. As soon as Declan disappears to the bathroom, I’m begging Sera to send me a picture.

  “A naughty one,” I tell her over text. “I’ll reward you for it later.”

  Three little dots come up right away, making my heart race. But then they disappear just as quickly. Dammit. Maybe she just needs a little extra encouragement before she goes snapping dirty pictures for me.

  Before I can tap out another text, a dainty hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to find a tall, curvy woman at my side. She’s one of the three that were staring at my brother earlier.

  “Jason Bellino, right?” She bats her freakishly long lashes while gathering her shiny golden hair over her shoulder.

  I nod warily.

  “Oh I knew it.” She looks back at her girlfriends. “They said it couldn’t be you, but I just knew. I’d recognize you anywhere. Can I get an autograph?” As she asks, she yanks down her top, exposing a whole lot of fleshy tit. She holds out a felt-tip marker. “Pretty please.”

  I scowl like she just offered me a tray of week-old deviled eggs that have been sitting out on the counter. I keep my eyes above chin level. This is nothing new. I’ve signed more tits than I care to recall. But the idea of getting my hands anywhere near this stranger’s body leaves a sick taste in my mouth.

  Instead of these dull gray eyes in front of me, I see Sera’s large dark gaze. Instead of this woman’s tall, lithe body, I see Sera’s supple curves. Don’t get me wrong, the lady is attractive in her own right and back in the day, I would have been all over her. But right now, she’s not for me. Not anymore.

  I shake my head, turning back to the TV screen on the wall in front of me. “Sorry, lady. Not the Jason Bellino you’re looking for.”

  I feel her eyes stabbing the side of my head for several long moments. She knows I’m full of shit. I’m bracing myself for her to argue, but with a huff, she stalks off. When she’s out of my personal space, I can finally relax.

  Christ, these women are fucking vultures. Seriously. We’re going to Applebee’s next time. Fuck what Declan says.

  “You get her number, right?” he says a second later when he slides back into the seat next to me.

  I eyeball him, wondering if he was lurking around, watching that shit go down or if his timing is just that good.

  “What would I need her number for?” I grumble, eyes on the TV screen.

  “Well, either you’ve officially switched teams, or you’re interested in somebody else, ‘cause that chick was a total ten.”

  I dismiss him. “You go get her number then.”

  When he makes no move to get up and go after her, I chuckle. He’s all talk. He gives me crap for not flirting up a storm but I haven’t missed the fact that he hasn’t been reciprocating what all these women are trying to hand out tonight.

  Declan looks around the room for the waitress. “Fuck that shit, bro. I fall in love too easy. These girls are always breaking my heart.” He spins a poker chip around on the table.

  “You’re crankier than usual,” I point out, ready to change the subject. “Hmm. Where is Minka these days? Your favorite frenemy still holding out on you?”

  I expected to get the usual laugh out of him. The usual rise that comes along with mentioning the woman that drives him batshit crazy. But tonight, Declan rears back, almost tipping off his chair.

  “What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with Minka. Why would you even bring her up? I haven’t seen her since the night we were all at the nightclub.”

  “Damn. So touchy tonight. All bent out of shape over a joke. You can dish it out but you can’t take it, huh?” I should cut him some slack. He’s had this love-hate thing with Minka forever. Maybe he’s just finally growing up and trying to move on from something that’ll never happen.

  The waitress discreetly clears our table and places fresh drinks in front of us.

  “I just…” Declan slumps and wraps a hand around his glass. “Minka’s been avoiding me. There’s something important I want to talk to you about, but not tonight. This place is too loud, and I’m too tired.”

  I’m about to press him for details when my phone buzzes on the table in front of me. Eager to see what Sera has finally sent me, I unlock my screen.

  Holy shit, she did send a picture. She’s not completely nude, but she’s not exactly covered up either. She’s wearing another one of those lacy little lingerie things. Hot pink this time. She looks so goddamn good, I’m ready to ditch this bar and race home.

  I feel my brother leaning over my shoulder, all up in my business like always. I immediately swipe to close my messaging app.

  I slide my phone into my pocket, glaring at Declan. His wide-eyed, loose-jawed stare tells me I was too late.

  “Are you fucking serious? That was Sera,” he deadpans like I didn’t already know. “Shit, she’s a babe.”

  I pin him with a deadly glare. “Yeah. I know.” I do not want my brother seeing Sera half-naked.

  “So, you two…?” He bounces an eyebrow suggestively.

  God, he’s annoying.

  I exhale heavily and scrub a hand down my face. “Um. Yeah.”

  Declan talks a lot. So I’m sort of skeptical about letting him in on what’s going on. Especially since Wyatt still doesn’t know.

  “You’re hesitating.” He smirks. “Is she too much woman for you? Maybe I should swoop in and give her a taste of—”

  I snap. In a flash, my fist is curled in the fabric of his shirt collar. “Watch what you fucking say about my wife!”

  Okay, mild overreaction.
r />   Declan blinks. “Your…? Your…? What?!”

  Urrrgh! Stupid, stupid mouth of mine.

  “Sera and I got married.”

  “Married? Like…married?”

  Feeling defensive, I nod, daring him to have a problem with it. “Yeah. Sera and I got married.”

  He furrows his brows. “When did you and Sera start dating? She was engaged to Rocky like, five minutes ago. You sure you’re married, married?”

  I go through the motions of explaining the wedding mistake to my brother. By this point, I feel like I’ve explained it a million times to a million people. And there’s a voice at the back of my head, hollering at me that this. was. supposed. to be. a. secret. Too late now. While I’m at it, I let my brother know that we’re delaying the annulment to try and see if things can work between us.

  Declan starts blinking rapidly again. “I’ll admit it—I’m totally clueless about how relationships work and shit. But don’t you think this getting-married-to-Sera thing happened too fast? I mean, she was ready to marry some other guy a few weeks ago.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” I growl. I really don’t care for that ugly reminder. “But we didn’t plan it. It just happened.”

  And of course, that’s the precise moment Liam reappears over my shoulder. He tosses his phone onto the table. “What just happened?”

  Declan jams a thumb in my direction. “This idiot got himself married to Sera.”

  Liam furrows his brows like he’s never heard the name before. “Sera who?”

  I roll my eyes.

  Declan stares at him. “Dude, how many Seras do you know?”

  Liam’s brows furrow deeper like he has no clue who my brother is talking about.

  I growl. This guy is such an asshole.

  “Sera who works in your office.” Declan reminds him. “Sera who’s probably an emotional mess because she was about to get married a month ago. Sera who has an overprotective, angry-for-no-reason, turbo-robot for a brother who’s probably going to snap Jace’s neck with his big, enormous, massive cyborg hands.”