Play Boy

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  I roar with laughter. “Yeah, hi…” I brush her wet hair from her face. Leaning forward, I grab her drawing from the floor.

  She takes it from my hand—a sketch of a giant animated tarantula mounting a badass butterfly from behind. Bee my love bug, it reads. She smiles.

  “You’re corny.” I playfully bite her chin.

  She snickers. “C’mon—I thought it was clever. Admit that it was clever.”

  “It was clever,” I tell her and kiss her chin. “You mean it, though?” I ask leaning my forehead to hers.

  “I do.” Then, she whispers, breathless, almost afraid. “I mean it so much it scares me.”

  I brush my fingertips over her lips. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. But I’ll never do it again. I love you too much to risk losing you.”

  “And I’m sorry I walked away. I should have tried to figure things out with you. We could have found a way but I just ran off. I’m sorry.” Her regret shows in her eyes.

  “I’m just glad you’re back, Nova. Tell me you’re staying.”

  She smiles. “I’m staying.”

  I squeeze her so tight. My arms swallow her up as I kiss her again and again. The life we’ll have together flashes before my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I see a white picket fence in my mind’s eye. “I want to give you everything, Butterfly. I want you to have my last name. I want you to have my babies. Is that okay with you?”

  Brushing the tip of her nose against mine. “I want that. I’m yours. In every way,” she promises softly. “I just don’t want to share you, Charlie.”

  “You’ll never have to. You are the only choice for me, Nova. Tell me you choose me, too.”

  She nods solemnly and wipes rainwater from my brow. “I choose you, baby. I’m yours.”

  This feeling is better than winning the lottery. “I’m yours for-fucking-ever.”

  Epilogue

  Nova

  Three years later…

  The biggest, cheesiest grin spills across my face as the stucco house at the end of the block comes into view. My two favorite people in the world are sitting on the front porch, sipping imaginary tea and wearing their matching rhinestone tiaras.

  My heart aches. It’s so full of love.

  The sound of the concrete curb catching my fender is my reminder to watch where the hell I'm going. This is exactly why Charlie doesn’t trust me with carpool duty.

  I throw my SUV into park and my little girl’s face lights up when she sees the vehicle. “Momma!”

  My handsome husband follows her gaze and he scoops her up into his arms, rising to his feet. I can’t jump out of the damn car fast enough. As I hustle up the walkway with my travel bag in my hand, Charlie moves down the stairs, meeting me halfway.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” he says as Madalyn climbs out of his arms, into mine. Charlie grabs my bag.

  “Hello there, handsome.” I lean in and press my lips to his. I instantly feel fire in the pit of my belly. It’s still there, alive and strong as ever.

  I grin at my little girl. “It looks like I’m just in time for tea, huh?”

  “Yes, Mummy. You are! We’re having Earl Gray today!”

  Charlie throws an arm around me and squeezes as the three of us walk toward our home. I laugh. “My favorite!”

  After a week of meetings and work in New York, it’s good to be back in this quiet little suburb with my family. I couldn’t wait to get back to them.

  At the top of the stairs, Madalyn wiggles for me to put her down. She tears open the screen door. “I’ll go get you a teacup.”

  “Hurry up,” I tell her. “I could really use a warm drink right now!” Giggling, she disappears inside. I drop into one of the little pink chairs at the little pink table on the porch. Charlie does the same.

  He reaches up and adjusts the silly plastic crown on his head. “How was New York?”

  “Amazing,” I say. “Lori set a release date for the Love Bugs movie. And I finally finished recording the album. And my record label started talking about a tour, maybe.”

  The pride in his eyes warms me right up. “I’m so happy for you, Butterfly.” He reaches out and touches my face. “I knew you could do it.”

  I drag my chair closer to his and lean my head on his shoulder. He’s been my biggest cheerleader from day one. His faith in me is what made all this possible.

  “And what were you two up to while I was gone?” He’s so good with Madalyn. The two of them have a blast on the rare occasion that I have to travel for work.

  “Well, I cashed the final Silverberry check yesterday.” He chuckles. “It didn’t bounce so it looks like we’re gonna be able to pay the mortgage on this big, new house this month.”

  I roll my eyes. He’s still mad at my mom for convincing us to buy a five-bedroom. He says we don’t need it. I say we do because we’re gonna fill this sucker up with babies.

  He smiles as he keeps talking. “Anyway, I’m so glad that monster project is done with. As for my other smaller projects, I let my team deal with it so I could spend the week at home with Madalyn.”

  “Oh really? That’s sweet, babe. It must have been nice to just relax.”

  He chuffs. “Relax? The girl put me to work immediately. She demanded that I renovate her dollhouse and since I’m a general contractor by trade, daddy couldn’t say no. You should see the size of that thing. My daughter is more demanding than any of my paying clients.”

  I laugh. “Oh boy!”

  Charlie is such a good dad. I would have never guessed that he could be so devoted to his family. Madalyn and I are the luckiest girls to have him. He’s surpassed all of my expectations in every department. Life is good. So good.

  “Everything’s working out, huh?” I kiss his cheek.

  “Everything is working out.”

  I can’t believe that I was so afraid to do this. Not too long ago, the future scared me so much that I was nearly paralyzed, making choices out of fear. But in the past three years, all my dreams have come true. It all started with my decision to take a chance on love.

  Madalyn pops out of the house and sets a teacup and saucer in front of me. She places a crown on my head and then takes her seat. My chatty little girl tells me all about her week with daddy as she pours me an overflowing cup of imaginary tea.

  Charlie and I share a look over her head. He’s so damn handsome, sitting there with his pink tiara. God, I’m so glad I took a chance on him. He’s still my best friend but now, he’s so much more. My life partner. My lover. My husband. He’s the best choice I’ve ever made. Our adventure has taught me fundamental lessons about life.

  Everybody is capable of change.

  Everybody is capable of love.

  And everybody deserves it.

  People say, don’t hate the player, hate the game. I’m convinced that they’ve got it all wrong. I say, when you love the player with all your heart, play the fucking game to win!

  THE END.

  Preview of Lover Boy (Blue Collar Bachelors book 1)

  Chapter 1

  Leo

  "Are we they'w yet?" a sleepy, little voice calls out from the back seat of Mara's beat-up, silver Ford Escort.

  I glance into the rearview mirror and am met by a pair of dark brown eyes struggling to stay open under their heavy lids. His white sweater is two sizes too small and has ketchup stains from the fast food dinner we shared earlier. There’s yogurt crusted at the corners of his lips. That’s from breakfast.

  He’s a really cute kid but in the short time that he’s been in my care, he’s started to look like one of those kids. Y’know—the kids you see streaking through the aisles of Walmart and you immediately start wishing that parents were required to get some sort of certificate to prove their fitness to raise children? Yeah, one of those.

  Jeez, I don’t know how to be a caretaker.

  A provider? Yes.

  A protector? Damn right.

  But a caretaker? Shit…With the headspace I’m in, I can hardly t
ake care of myself.

  He doesn’t know any better, though. All he knows is that he’s ready to get out of the confines of this damn car. His favorite soccer ball is clenched in one hand as he jams the thumb of his other hand into his mouth.

  The thumb sucking. I wonder if that's new. Mara never mentioned it before. At least not that I remember. I'm struck by yet another wave of guilt. There's so much I don't know about my son. There's so much I'll never be able to ask his mother.

  How the hell am I supposed to do this?

  I’m woefully unprepared. It all happened too fast. One minute, I was out in the jungle sniffing out militant combattants. The next minute, I was back stateside, tugging my bawling toddler along as I dragged him away from the only home he’s ever known. Now, I'm in my car—Mara’s car—with a tiny stranger strapped into his booster seat, driving to a small town I’ve never been to take a job I’m unqualified for with an old friend I haven’t seen in years.

  I can't remember the last time I took a breath.

  Brenton's high-pitched voice rings out again. "Dad-dy..." he whines.

  With a jolt, I snap out of my reverie. "Almost there, buddy," I say as our eyes meet in the mirror.

  He lets the ball tumble to the floor. "You alweady said that a long time ago," he admonishes sternly and folds his little arms across his little chest. Well, damn. My tyke is calling me a liar.

  My mouth opens and closes wordlessly, not quite sure of the guidelines for negotiating with pint-sized terrorists who live under your roof and call you ‘daddy’. Mara was good at this. She knew how to handle this…I think.

  I've tromped through warzones. I've come face to face with some of the world's most ruthless killers. But no one, nothing has ever scared me as much as the snot-faced three-footer sitting in the backseat.

  I'm responsible for him. Whether he turns into a devil or a saint is a responsibility stacked squarely on my shoulders and it's terrifying. How am I supposed to shape him into a decent human being when I'm so lost and depressed that I don't know right from left, let alone right from wrong?

  "Is Uncle Charlie gonna play soccer with me in the backyard when we get there?" he asks.

  "It's pretty late. I think that maybe we should save the soccer for tomorrow. Don't ya think?" I’m not sure that suggestion will go over too well.

  "Nooo!" he shrieks histrionically, "No fair!" He tosses his head back and clenches his fists as if I just told him that his health insurance premiums are going up and his shifts are getting cut in half and the electricity is about to get shut off. Tears pour down his sticky cheeks and soap-opera-style sobs rip free from his chest.

  Jeez, kid—it’s not that deep!

  Anyway, that's how his latest mini-tantrum commences. Oh god, I feel a migraine coming on, tightening right behind my eyes. I try to rationalize with him, telling him that it's too dark, that he's too tired but from what I gather, four year olds don't respond well to logic.

  I love the boy but thank god I only have one of him. I wouldn’t be able to handle duplicates.

  Eventually, I break down, reaching across the console and opening up the glove box. I dig around—empty potato chip wrappers and gas station receipts falling to the floor—until I find a small stash of gummy bears. With one hand on the wheel, I bite down on the side of the package and tug sharply with my other hand, quickly opening the bag and stretching my peace offering into the back seat. My son hesitates for a second, contemplating my compromise. I squeeze my eyes in relief when he takes it into his tiny hands and his complaining trails off. Soon, his contented little hums are the only sound filling the cabin.

  Feeding my kid pounds of sugar and food coloring to shut him up. I'm dad of the year. Where do I claim my prize?

  Shit…this is going to be a disaster.

  I veer off of the I-90 north and glance up at the highway sign glowing up ahead in the darkness.

  Welcome to Copper Heights.

  Let’s see how this goes.

  Chapter 2

  Reese

  “Fuck the getting-to-know-you stuff—let’s just skip straight to the sex.”

  I glance up from the pile of hot clothes that I’m pulling out of the dryer and stare over at my best friend. “You sound just like my last three dates,” I say flatly. I wish I were joking.

  Nova flicks her wrist dismissively at me as she crosses her legs beneath her and trains her attention on my laptop screen in front of her. “Half of this quiz is boring. I’m not gonna sit here and ask you personality questions when we can just jump to the good stuff.” She giggles at my sour expression. "Okay, first question—how would you describe your ideal lover?" She turns her expectant emerald irises to me and drums the tip of her finger against the palm rest of the computer as she waits for my answer.

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She’s taken it upon herself to sign me up on some online dating website despite my protests. I have absolutely no intention of searching for my next date on the internet, but I'll humor her for a few minutes.

  Rubbing a finger thoughtfully against the side of my mouth, I pretend to think hard. "A former military man who is now a volunteer firefighter. Of course, his body is ripped in the sexiest way with abs that are packed like ladder rungs. He permanently wears a deep and pensive broody look. And for some inexplicable reason, he has a thing for girls with love handles and thigh-jiggle."

  She balls up a napkin and tosses it at me. "Be serious, Reese. This is important. You haven’t had an orgasm in forever and I'm starting to worry about you."

  "Don't," I tell her pointedly. "I'm fine." I turn my back to her and bend into the dryer to pull out the rest of my fresh laundry.

  True—I’m long overdue for some seismic activity in my nether regions but I’m not about to start dwelling on the lack of male companionship in my life. I’ve never been good at romantic relationships so I’m satisfied with spending time with my friends, co-owning a thriving business and hanging out with my (annoying but loving) family. At least for now.

  Copper Heights, Illinois isn’t rife with dating options, anyway. This small suburb is overrun by mean soccer moms with their monster strollers and their despondent, prematurely balding husbands. And don’t forget the slow-moving seniors whose attempts at parallel parking clog Main Street at all hours of the day. Eligible bachelors, as a species, are practically extinct around these parts. All that to say that—yes—I’m going through a dry spell, but I’m really not eager to put myself out there again.

  "You're not fine," Nova insists. "I feel like you’re still just relentlessly holding onto the hope that Martin's gonna zip back into Copper Heights and stop liking boys and scoop you up like it’s the fairy tale of our generation.” She throws me a frustrated look and shakes her head. “Goddamn. If Jack had half as much tenacity as you do, Titanic would have had a happy ending."

  She’s never going to let me live this Martin-thing down, is she?

  Look—I’m not one to back down from a challenge. When my childhood sweetheart admitted to being gay, I hadn’t seen it coming. Yes, he’d been a High School Musical fanatic, but who hadn’t been?

  Anyway, did I dump him like a hot potato following that epic confession? Hell no! Instead, I spent another two years trying to convince him otherwise because you don’t just give up on people. At least not when you love them. But ultimately, those efforts failed and he ran off to Vegas to perform show tunes. If I’m honest, the guy always did look good in red Lycra and sequins.

  Whatever…

  He and I are on excellent terms and his partner, Hahn, ensures that I get a delicious fruitcake every Christmas. I don’t know what Nova’s whining about. I'd call that a win.

  She’s still yapping away as the divine combination of lemon and vanilla infuses the kitchen. She stares at me with her wild golden ringlets fanning out around her caramel face like a curly lion's mane. "I don't mean to be harsh, but I've got news for you. Martin's not coming back. The sweet, exuberant disco enthusiast who serenaded you down the hall
s of Copper Heights High? He doesn't exist anymore."

  I check the timer on the counter. Just a few more minutes before I pull the cupcakes out of the oven. "Nova...I’m over him. I just haven’t met anyone worth investing in yet. So, please, let’s not relive the Martin phase." I move my laundry basket to the table and set it right in front of her, hoping that she'll take a hint and help me as I fold. No such luck. I’m not surprised. She’s just going to sit around and wait to be fed while I buzz around the kitchen like a worker bee doing overtime. I shake my head.