The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  “Well, not here, exactly. We lived in a suburb, but my dad’s office was nearby. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

  “Here, not home?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not home.” He’d never given much thought to where home was. He guessed, if asked, he’d consider Vegas home. It was where he started his career and, thanks to Grayson, where it ended.

  He watched one skyscraper melt into another and considered his career. Was it really over? Frankie hadn’t told him as much. He could play again. But why would coach put him back in? He was an old guy with a bum shoulder and Santiago was in his prime. It didn’t take a nuclear physicist to get four out of that two plus two.

  The taxi flew into the round drop off driveway of the hotel and the driver slammed the engine into park. He jumped out and raced around to the back to grab their bags. A bellboy appeared, towing his cart. When he reached the bags, he put them on the cart and headed back inside.

  Frankie followed him while Xavier pulled out his wallet and gave a fat tip to the taxi driver. “Thanks for getting us here in one piece, man.”

  His eyes lit up at the number and denomination of bills. “Anytime, sir.” He rounded his car and opened the driver’s door.

  “Be careful out there.” Xavier waved.

  The driver returned the wave and slunk down into his car, speeding off to find his next fare.

  Xavier took a deep breath and entered the rotating doorway. It wasn’t hard to find Frankie. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she was still the most beautiful woman in the room. Wisps of hair escaped from the rubber band. He smiled. Only his Frankie could make porcupine sexy.

  As he approached, she pointed at the paperwork he’d given her, jabbing her finger at the confirmation report. “No, according to this paperwork, we’re supposed to have a two-room suite.”

  “I understand, ma’am, but as I said before—”

  “I wasn’t here before,” Xavier interrupted, sidling up next to Frankie at the counter, “so if you wouldn’t mind telling me for the first time.”

  The girl’s eyes widened and she swallowed. Yeah, she recognized him. “O- of c- course, Mr. Xavier. As I told your girlfriend, the hotel doesn’t have that type of room available.”

  “Okay.” Xavier kept his tone soft, controlled. “So what is the hotel going to do about it?”

  “We have two rooms across the hall from each other.”

  “Not good enough.” He shook his head. “What else do you have?”

  Her fingers flew over the keys on her keyboard and her eyes scanned the results on the screen. Her lips pursed, her brows frowned. More clicks. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip.

  His temper flared fast and hot as a struck match. He cleared his throat. “It isn’t that hard.”

  Frankie slid her hand into his and squeezed. He didn’t dare look at her for fear he’d take his frustration out on her. And she’d done nothing wrong.

  “Let me ask you this, sweet thang—” A blush rose in the girl’s face. “—is the Presidential Suite available?”

  Click. Click. Click. Head shake. “No, I’m sorry, it’s not.”

  Frankie squeezed again and he stomped down his annoyance. “Okay. Any of those high-dollar suites?”

  The girl blushed again and looked at Frankie when she informed them, “The honeymoon suite is available.”

  Xavier bit back his groan. “I’m guessing there’s only one bed, huh.”

  Childish giggles bubbled out of the girl. “Of course. Otherwise it wouldn’t be very honeymooney.”

  “Of course.” He nodded and clamped his eyes closed.

  “We’ll take it.”

  His eyes flipped open. Frankie smiled up at him. After the girl left to get their paperwork off the printer, Frankie squeezed his hand again. “We’re both adults, X. It’ll be fine.”

  He wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  He stepped inside the room to discover his nightmare personified. The only way it could have possibly been worse would be for a chainsaw wielding psychopath to climb out from under the bed. Or a nutjob with a butcher knife in the bathtub. He shivered. Frankie sighed.

  Rose petals dusted the enormous bed. Fresh rose petals. Good hell. When had the hotel had time to do play flower shop? He noticed their bags already tucked away in the corner.

  The bellboy? Made sense.

  Whatever.

  It didn’t really matter who put the damn things on the bed.

  “I need a shower. I feel really gross.” Frankie’s scowl wasn’t gross at all. The way it creased her brow and twisted her full lips pushed him closer to edge. He wanted no part of the cliff, no matter how badly he craved the fall.

  When her fingers lifted the hem of her sweater, Xavier forgot his own damn name. She whipped it up over her head and stood in front of him in a white t-shirt. That’s it. She was trying to kill him.

  She tossed her sweater onto the bed, then grabbed her suitcase and hefted it on the luggage rack.

  He jumped to his feet. “Hey, lemme get that.”

  “No.” She used her hip as leverage against the black bag. “Your shoulder.”

  He lost the ability to argue further when she bent over. He forgot all about being a gentleman, giving over to his lustful thoughts.

  The ziiip of her suitcase focused him. He grabbed his bag and carried it over to the bed before opening it. Everything was wrinkled. He dug through his t-shirts to get at the boxers he’d buried in the bottom. Thankfully he’d chosen to hang his suit and shirt in a suit bag.

  “Why don’t you shower first? Then you can head down and I’ll be down as soon as I get ready,” she said.

  “Are you sure this isn’t your way of getting out of being seen with me?”

  She laughed softly. “I’ve already been with you.” She pointed at the bathroom. “Go. Shower.”

  As he did just that, he tried to keep his mind away from Frankie, especially while being buck naked with a bar of soap gliding over his skin. He hurried with his shower, rubbed some gel in his hair, brushed his teeth, dressed… Oh hell, he’d only brought his boxers in with him. He looked at his reflection and shrugged, happy when his right shoulder did the rise and fall thing as well.

  He didn’t really have a choice. They shared a room, and like Frankie’d said, they were both adults. It just so happened he was a very horny adult.

  Xavier opened the door and Frankie raced toward him, shirt in hand. The grin on her face melted his heart. She held the shirt out, holding it wide for him to slip his arms in. “I pressed it for you. I was just working on your pants. Give me a second and…” Her eyes dropped to the black silk boxers covering his ass and her cheeks filled with exquisite color. “It didn’t even dawn on me you wouldn’t have pants.” Her brows furrowed. “I’m sorry. I should have done those first.”

  She hurried back over to the fold-down ironing board and swiped the iron over the bottoms of his black suit. He buttoned up his shirt and waited for his pressed slacks. No other woman in his life had ever considered ironing his suit pants for him. Even his grandmother, God rest her soul, hadn’t ironed his pants.

  She whipped the slacks off the board with a flourish and waved them like a flag of victory. “Here you go. Be careful they might still be hot in places.”

  Appropriate. Certain parts of him blazed to the point it surprised him he didn’t have smoke rising from his skin. He took the pants from her and bent to kiss her cheek.

  “Thanks, Doc. You’re sweet.”

  “Ah, sweet had nothing to do with it. If I’m going to be seen with you, you can’t be looking like a bum.” She went back to the ironing board and pressed his jacket.

  He finished dressing quickly then grabbed his tie from his suitcase. He draped it around his neck and began to tie it.

  Her soft gasp surprised him. He caught her gaze. She smiled and walked up to help with the red and black Hugo Boss.

  “How did you know?” She slid the knot to rest in the cradle of his shirt
’s collar.

  “Know what?”

  Her hands smoothed down over his tie, over his stomach and abs. All coherent thought escaped him.

  “Oh, never mind.” She patted his stomach again. “You’d better get downstairs. We’re very late.”

  He shrugged. “Not late enough.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Go. I’ll be down in just a bit.”

  “I’d tell you to take your time, but … yeah. I’ll see you in a few.”

  “You look great.” She kissed his cheek. “Knock ’em dead, killer.”

  When the bathroom door closed and the shower turned on, he knew he couldn’t procrastinate another moment. At least this time, when he walked through the fires of hell, he’d have an angel by his side, holding his hand, helping him through by torching him from the inside out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Well, look boys, whatdyaknow, the mighty Matthew Xavier has chosen to grace us with his presence.” Matthew Shepherd shifted where he’d perched on the barstool. He shoved an elbow into the ribs of a Matthew Trenton, who stumbled into Bradley Matthews.

  The three had been inseparable twenty years ago. Three Matts in a freakin’ pod. Seemed like some things really didn’t change.

  But other things changed. Big time.

  Back in the day, Shepherd had been the star point guard on the basketball team. Now—Xavier fought to keep his head shake to himself—the guy was nearly as big around as he was tall.

  Trenton seemed to be a big fan of beer, if the gut he sported could be taken as any kind of hint. He stepped forward and switched his Heineken to his left hand, extending his right. “How’s the shoulder?”

  Xavier ground his molars and took the offered hand, shaking it. “Good. It shouldn’t be long before I’m back in the game.”

  “I don’t know,” Bradley chimed in, “that Santiago kid is pretty good.”

  Xavier shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his Armani. Where the hell was Frankie? He shot a glance at the grand staircase. Nothing. Dammit.

  He turned his attention back to Bradley, former quarterback, forever asshole. “How are things with Heather?”

  All humor drained from Bradley’s face, as did the color. Trenton clamped a hand on Brad’s shoulder and leaned forward. “She um, she filed for divorce.”

  “Last week,” Shepherd supplied helpfully.

  “Oh. Huh.” Xavier turned to scan the ballroom. “Is she here?”

  Two yeses and a no answered him.

  He faced the men, a smile on his face. “So which is it?”

  Bradley ran a hand through his hair. And—holy shit!—it shifted. The part literally moved closer to his left ear. Xavier bit back a laugh. Trenton stepped in tight. Xavier took a step back, and once again Trenton approached. Xavier looked down into the salt and pepper hair. Or what was left of it.

  Trenton leaned up on his toes to whisper, “She’s here with another guy.”

  Attempting sympathy, Xavier nodded. “Sorry, man.”

  He couldn’t believe he’d spent so much time worrying about what these particular three men would think of him. They had nothing on him. Not a damn thing.

  Xavier was ripped. In fact his abs were six-pack toned. He tightened them, just to have his body scream the booyah! his mouth couldn’t. He still had a full head of hair and tonight, even if for only tonight, he’d have an amazing woman on his arm.

  At least, he hoped she’d play the part. Maybe she’d just mingle and socialize and head up to someone else’s room when the night ended. It’d probably serve him right.

  The sudden ill feeling in his stomach and the clawing need to pummel some poor unnamed bastard registered as jealousy. Awesome!

  “Oh, sweet angel from heaven,” Shepherd breathed.

  Bald and Balder followed his line of sight to the stairs as did Xavier. Angel was right. Or devil maybe, considering the red dress.

  He’d never loved a dress more in his life. The thing draped her in exquisite precision, showing off every feminine curve of her slender body. He smiled at the creamy flesh peeking over the top of where the fabric dipped down in the front. From where it hugged her waist, it flared out to sway with each step. Mile-high red heels accentuated her killer legs. He’d love nothing more than spending the rest of his life memorizing every inch of her.

  When they got back, he might just have to burn all of her scrubs and insist she wear things like this hot little number. Then he thought of the rest of the guys ogling her and changed his mind on the spot.

  As soon as she stepped foot on the ornate tile floor, Trenton approached her. Xavier froze where he stood. As he watched one of his biggest rivals from his days at Central High School put on a charming smile. “Can I get you a drink?”

  Frankie smiled down at him and shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  Shepherd tried next. He stood, smoothed the front of his department store suit. “Hey, sweetheart. How about we take a spin on the dance floor?”

  Again with the smile and thorough dismissal. “That’s very kind, but no.”

  Bradley lifted his hand, reached for his head, then thought better of the motion. Xavier had to agree with his choice. Undeterred by the near de-toupeeing, Bradley stepped up to the plate, so to speak. He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips when she extended it.

  Through the entire exchange she’d kept her gaze from Xavier. That little fact caused his heart to pummel his ribcage and his pulse throbbed so loudly behind his ears, he barely registered the conversation.

  “I don’t recognize you from good ol’ Central.” He didn’t let go of her fingers, her skin turned white from the pressure.

  Her smile tightened, forced through her irritation. “No, I didn’t go—” She purposely lifted her eyes to meet Xavier’s and he only barely kept from stumbling back. Her lips parted. Her cheeks blushed. “There you are, lover.”

  At the words, Bradley dropped her hand and the three of them turned toward Xavier. He opened his arms in greeting and she strolled right into them, melting herself against him. She brushed her lips over his cheek before pulling away to stand close by his side. She chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised, boys. I’ve only ever had eyes for Xavier.”

  * * *

  It felt so good to say those words out loud. She’d only had eyes for Xavier for a long time. He probably hadn’t realized it. Truth be told, she’d just figured it out.

  Seeing the defeated expression on his face as the three other guys approached her, broke her heart. He stood off to the side, watching closely. His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened to a muddy brown. And yet he looked so handsome in his suit. His very expensive suit. That’s it, she was convinced. Some things weren’t meant to be scrimped on. In some cases the name brand was the only way to go: Oreos, Doritos, Armani. And Xavier.

  His hazel eyes twinkled as they roamed over her body, from her hair to the arch-killing red heels on her feet. She wasn’t sure the caress would be hotter if he actually touched her, but she intended to find out. Now.

  She threw her arms around his neck, hoping he could handle playing the part she’d cast him in. When his arms circled around her waist and pulled her in tight against his hard body, she tipped her head up and couldn’t resist.

  Her lips were on his before she’d made the conscious decision to kiss him. When his tongue streaked across her lips, she opened for him. He tilted his head and kissed her so deeply she felt it in her toes.

  She would melt right here. Just like the Wicked Witch of the West, she would dissolve into a puddle. The Witch’s weakness was water. Frankie’s just so happened to be Xavier.

  He released her from his kiss, only to press his lips to her nose. Another part of him pressed into her stomach and her heart soared in victory. She’d affected him. She wasn’t alone in her arousal. He dropped his mouth to her ear, his hot breath scorching her.

  “You look amazing, Doll.” He kissed the tender place on her neck, making her knees give out. His hold kept her upright. “
Better than amazing. You look good enough to eat.”

  “Thanks.” The word escaped on a breath, dissolving into a hiss.

  He eased her away from him, placing another gentle kiss on her lips then tucked her tightly to his side. His fingers wrapped around hers and the smile he flashed her sealed her fate. She was in way over her head.

  “Boys, I’d like you to meet Dr. Frankie Holden.”

  All three of them looked impressed. The heavy guy let his eyes travel over her again in a purposeful, lazy inventory of her assets. She felt dirty, wanted to cover herself. Xavier squeezed her fingers until they tingled. He probably didn’t even realize in another moment he’d crush her bones.

  “What’s your real name, sweetheart?” Chubby licked his thick lips and rubbed at his mouth with plump fingers. “You must have been really expensive.”

  Frankie anticipated Xavier’s movement before he could hit the disgusting guy. She tugged his arm down, which tweaked his shoulder just enough to ground him.

  “If you’ll excuse us,” she said as sweetly as her clamped jaw would allow before leading Xavier away from them, deep into the throng of people.

  She spotted an empty booth off to the side and steered an unwilling Xavier toward it.

  “You should have let me punch him.” Xavier tugged on her hand as he stared over his shoulder. The murder in his eyes and menace in his scowl said she’d done the right thing by stepping in. “It’s been a long time coming, Doc.”

  She slid onto the bench and scooched around until she sat alone in the middle of the table, surveying the dancers. Or she would have been if not for the mountain blocking her view. Patting the bench next to her, she smiled. “Join me?”

  His eyes slipped shut and his nostrils flared with a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to. He wanted to beat the shit out of the asshole who’d insinuated she was a whore. She could live with that. She didn’t need him to bloody his knuckles to prove he cared about her. His defensive reaction meant everything.

  When his eyes flipped open, he grinned at her. An honest-to-goodness, I’m-happy-to-be-doing-this smile. He slid into the bench, stopping when his hip bumped into hers.