The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  Frankie grinned. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Emma.”

  “Ah, I’ve heard a lot about you. I love your crown.”

  She smiled, showing off a missing front tooth. “Thanks, my mom picked it out. She helped Uncle Xavier plan his wedding.” She frowned. “Why didn’t you plan your own wedding?”

  “Because I wanted it to be a surprise,” Xavier said as he picked her up by the waist. “Now go get the ring from your dad.”

  Panic soaked her like a bucket of cold water. “A ring! Xavier, I don’t have a ring.”

  “I’ve got you covered, Frank.” Christian squeezed her hand and shoved his other hand into his pocket. “Everybody stop your yammerin’. Let’s get these two married.”

  The wedding march rang through the tiny church and Xavier gave her a smile that melted her heart before he took her mother’s hand and slowly, patiently, led her into the chapel. Grayson held a thumb up, showing his approval before a sharp tug on his arm and a whispered, “Come on,” from Jane had them following Xavier and Charlotte.

  The girls took their jobs very seriously. They were gorgeous in their matching yellow dresses and shiny white shoes. The two older girls scattered yellow and white rose petals in front of them and little Emma held a white satin heart-shaped pillow on her hands.

  Frankie imagined the trio had practiced this event at home. They knew their parts and delivered perfectly.

  “You ready?”

  Tears prickled in Frankie’s eyes and the moment she looked into the face of her best friend, they trickled down over her cheekbones.

  “Is this what you want? He said you’d said you wanted to marry him, but I never thought to ask you myself. Man, what a sucky friend I am. If this isn’t—”

  “I want it, Chris.” She wiped a hand over her cheeks. “I want him. It’s just a little overwhelming.”

  “He loves you, Frank. I never thought I’d see that particular arrogant prick fall, but he has. Hard. I know I don’t have to worry. He’s gonna take real good care of you.”

  She hugged Christian close. “Thanks for your part in all of this.”

  Christian chuckled and wrapped her in what used to be the best hug in the world. “I didn’t do much. He took care of it all.”

  “Can I get married now?”

  Christian laughed and she did her best to ignore the shimmer in his eyes because if she let herself acknowledge Christian’s emotions, she would definitely lose control of her own.

  * * *

  Xavier wondered what was taking so long. Surely she hadn’t changed her mind. Or had she? Oh, crap. It took all his self control not to race back down the aisle to find her. When he was about to lose the battle, she appeared in the archway.

  His throat tightened, thick with emotions he’d never experienced this strongly in his entire life. She smiled at him. Her eyes twinkled behind the sparkle of unshed tears.

  He’d wanted to surprise her, soliciting the help of their nearest and dearest to pull off the greatest surprise of her life. It’d worked. She hadn’t had a clue. And now she would be his wife.

  He barely comprehended her final steps bringing her to stand in front of him or the exchange of her hand from Christian’s to his own.

  Christian had been Frankie’s go-to-guy for a very long time, and although Xavier didn’t expect their friendship to come to an end, he wanted to be the one she depended on, the one she turned to when she was happy or sad or just needed someone to talk to. He wanted to be her one-and-only.

  “Frances, do you have your vows?”

  He saw the moment of panic flash across Frankie’s face and took her hands. “Just speak from the heart.”

  “Okay, um…” She glanced down at their clasped hands then looked him in the eyes. “When I first met you, I thought you were a gigantic jerk with an ego to match. I watched you and tried not to listen to the rumors based a little too much on fact, and didn’t want anything to do with you.”

  He swallowed hard. This was not at all what he’d hoped to hear from her.

  “When you hurt your shoulder because of your own stupid stubbornness, I didn’t look forward to the challenge of helping you recover. In fact, I thought it kinda served you right. And then when I found out you hadn’t gotten anybody to help you—” She shook her head and once again dropped her gaze to their hands.

  “I never imagined I’d fall so helplessly and hopelessly in love with you. As I got to know the real Matthias Xavier, I couldn’t fight it.” She raised their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “I promise to protect you when you’re vulnerable, to honor you with everything I am, and to love you even when I want to knock you upside your stubborn head. I love you.”

  He stared into the beautiful blue eyes of his wife and couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t had to wear the same pair of socks or rely on lucky seventeen on his back. Frankie’d come into his life and refused to give up on him. He had no idea what he’d done to deserved the love of this woman, but he vowed he’d do everything in his power, every day, to make himself worthy of it.

  “Matthias, your vows?”

  He cleared his throat, very aware of the emotions this ceremony brought out in him. “Frankie, you push me when I’d rather give up. You refuse to leave when I push you away. You love me even though I don’t deserve it. You’re a gift. The greatest gift I’ve ever received. I promise to honor you, to treasure you, to love you until time ceases to exist.”

  “Rings?”

  Emma ran forward, her crown of daisies bouncing wildly on top of her head. She thrust the pillow into his arms and raced back to sit in her spot next to Jane. He untied the white ribbon and slipped the ring on her finger. “Every time you see this, I want you to remember how much I love you.”

  She stared down at the three-carat solitaire, shifting her hand around to allow the diamond to catch the light and sparkle. “I love it.”

  “I knew you would. We’ll go together and pick out a band.”

  Christian stepped forward and dropped something into her hand. She gasped and held it up for inspection. He wasn’t surprised to see Christian had selected a simple, elegant, heavy piece of platinum. It was exactly what he would have expected Frankie to pick out. Judging by the small smile tugging at her lips, she agreed. She slid it onto his finger and the weight solidified her ownership. She owned him. Body, heart, soul. And he couldn’t have been happier.

  “You may now kiss your bride,” the preacher, a short, portly man, who owned the small wedding chapel, pronounced.

  Xavier didn’t have to be told twice. He took his bride and planted one on her, bending her over backward and using just enough tongue to make her blush as he pulled away.

  “Hello, Mrs. Xavier,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

  So did he. Very, very much.

  As the small crowed rushed up to congratulate them, all he could think was how much he wanted to be alone with her.

  She accepted a quick hug from Jane and turned with a grin. “So, where are we going for our honeymoon?”

  “Kingman.”

  She smiled, tipped her head to the side then nodded slowly, approvingly. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  No matter how insistent Xavier had been, telling her he had everything she’d need for their honeymoon in Kingman, she insisted even more she needed to stop at her house.

  “Just really quick.” She twisted in her seat. “I have to pick up a few things.”

  “You won’t need them.”

  “Please.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You have two minutes and then I’m hauling your cute little ass out of the house with or without whatever it is you’re so determined you need.”

  She smiled victoriously. “You won’t regret it.”

  He already did. They were running late. He hadn’t planned on pictures. He guess
ed that was a major oversight on his part. Of course they would want documentation to frame and remember the day forever. He’d have to remember to thank Jane later. She’d really saved the day.

  But then the well wishes and congratulations took an eternity. Frankie, being her very gracious self, made sure to take a few minutes with everyone in the small wedding party. Thank heaven he hadn’t invited more people.

  They pulled up to the curb in front of her house and he shifted the car into park. “Two minutes, Wife.”

  She leaned across the console and kissed him. “Be back in ninety seconds, Husband.”

  He still chuckled as she rushed inside the front door. She hadn’t asked about her mother or the arrangements he’d made. It’d simply taken box seats for the playoff game next week to get Christian to look in on Charlotte. Xavier guessed it wasn’t the tickets, Christian would have done so anyway, but X felt like he had to offer some kind of incentive.

  He liked Christian. Now. Now that he knew her best friend wasn’t after Frankie’s heart and now that she wore his ring on her finger.

  When she came running out of the house one-hundred and eighteen seconds later, she continued to stuff the remnants of her have-to-haves into a bag. “Sorry I couldn’t find my garter belt.”

  He groaned, images of her in the particular article of clothing flashed through his mind.

  She laughed. “Just kidding.” He allowed himself to breathe, until she continued to giggle, an evil, torturous gleam in her eyes. “It was exactly where I knew it’d be.”

  Every part of him tightened, hardened. This most certainly would be the longest hour and a half of his entire freakin’ life. And she damned well knew it.

  She put her hand high on his thigh and his foot jammed the pedal to the metal. Maybe they could make it in an hour.

  * * *

  “I guess we should look on a map and figure out where Shayne works.”

  Xavier’s eyes popped wide. Was she kidding?! He stalked across their motel room and took his wife in his arms. “That can wait.”

  There wasn’t a single emotion on her beautiful face, but he saw the humor in her eyes as she asked, “Oh, are you too tired? You need a nap?”

  He slapped her bottom. “You’re playing with fire, Wife.”

  “I like fire, Husband.”

  He grabbed each side of the button up shirt she’d changed into back at the church and ripped every single button off the damn thing. They flew in every which direction. He looked forward to coming face to breast with his new wife, but it appeared she had other ideas.

  “Why are you wearing that?”

  “What?” She shrugged. “I like wearing a tank top under my clothes.”

  He knew that to be truth, but seriously! “No more. You are forbidden to wear tank tops under your clothes.”

  One blond brow rose, daring him. “Forbidden, huh?”

  “Yep. And no bras either.”

  She laughed and ducked around him. “You stay right here. I’m going to change … into something more comfortable. But don’t you take off one stitch of clothing.” She pointed her finger at him. “Do you understand?”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, laying back to rest on his elbows. His smile put the Grand Canyon to shame. “I’ll be right here.”

  She grabbed the bag she’d packed and ran into the bathroom. He could hear the toilet and the sink, a few minutes passed, then the door opened again.

  Frankie stepped out and Xavier thought he’d died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t the skimpy white lacey bra and matching panties sucking the breath out of his lungs. It wasn’t the white stockings attached to the garter belt she’d talked about earlier making his entire body throb.

  It was the Rockets jersey draped across her shoulders, hanging open to her knees that brought tears to his eyes. She danced around in a dainty twirl, showing off his name on her back. He swallowed hard, blinked and did the only thing he could. Between one heartbeat and the next he launched himself off the bed and across the room to stand in front of her. He took each side of the jersey in a hand and pulled her close. His fingers curled into the fabric. His growl of approval and appreciation rumbled low in his throat.

  “I like seein’ you wearin’ my name.”

  She smiled and eased up on her toes to bring her lips next to his. “I thought it only right I wear your name on the night I made it mine.”

  “You planned this?”

  “Uh-huh. I bought it right after we got home from Boston.”

  “But you ignored me after we got home from Boston.”

  “I tried.” She touched a finger to her temple. “But you were always right here.” She placed his hand over her heart. “And right here. You grabbed hold tight and, no matter what I tried to tell myself, you refused to let go. Thank you for being stubborn, Husband.”

  Possession for this woman consumed him. He slipped his hand up her chest, over her breast, easing the jersey out of the way to cradle her neck in his palm. He held her steady, ran his thumb over her freckles and kissed her.

  She initiated the tangle of tongues and he moaned as she ground herself against him. He slid his hands down her back, groaning as they came into contact with bare cheeks. Apparently, her panties only had fabric in the front. Nice. He grinned against her mouth.

  “You are so sexy.”

  “And you are wearing too many clothes.”

  Her fingers teased under his t-shirt. He hissed, a shiver slithering over his skin. Goosebumps covered him from head to toe.

  “Damn, woman, your hands are cold.”

  Her husky giggle held torturous promise. “I guess you’ll just have to warm me up.”

  Her hands flattened against his abs, pushing up, exploring while easing his shirt heavenward. The icy wake of her little sight-seeing expedition unraveled him. He whipped the shirt over his head and chucked it across the room. Putting one arm around her back, tugged her close and held her chest-to-breast. She kissed his chest, nuzzled his pecs, but when she closed her teeth on his nipple, he lost control.

  She bounced on the mattress and laughed. Her eyes darkened to deep sapphire as she watched him shed his clothes in record time. The admiration in her gaze heated him. Self consciousness engulfed him. He dropped his hands in front of his swollen groin, surprised by the need to hide from her. She’d seen him naked, of course, but not fully aroused.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” She shook her head and purposefully looked at his hands.

  A dark, deep growl rumbled up from his toes and before her tongue completed the sweep of her lower lip, he was on her.

  His lips slammed into hers. He angled his head to deepen the kiss and her tongue joined him thrust for thrust. She dug her fingers into his nape, her nails scoring his scalp. As he moved down to taste her neck, her hands raked down, biting into his back.

  She raised her hips, pressing herself against him. He eased away from her. The passion in her eyes fueled his blood like nothing ever had. This woman belonged to him. Saved herself for him.

  Honored. Completely and utterly honored.

  “We need to slow down.” His rough, ragged voice showed exactly how much this time-out had cost him.

  Another hip grind accompanied her grin. “I’ll be fine.”

  “But you’re—”

  “A doctor.” She raised up on her elbows, bringing them nose to nose. “I may not have the practical training, but I sure as hell know the technical side of things.” She kissed him. “You won’t hurt me.”

  He wasn’t so sure. In about a second and half he might burst into flames. Or lose himself like a horny teenager. Or, even worse, take her so hard and fast neither of them would be able to walk for a week.

  She dipped her fingertips into the barely-there lace of her thong and eased it down her hips. Her sweet, tender smile broke his heart. “Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough?”

  With every part of him aching, wanting, needing, he lowered himself to her. He kissed her lips, nuzzling his way to h
er ear. “Put your legs around my waist.”

  As she wrapped those long, sexy legs around his hips, he was lost.

  He’d never considered going to heaven—or that the place even existed—but as he slid inside the woman he loved more than he ever thought possible, he knew. Not a doubt in his mind. Heaven existed all right, and he held it in his arms.

  Her blue eyes glistened and as she blinked, a tear slipped down her cheek. She shook her head, reading his thoughts. “No. I’m fine. Just move.”

  And whatdyaknow? he followed directions like a champ.

  Frankie met each movement, lifting her hips to greet him in a gentle, rocking communion. He’d never done the tender thing, never thought himself capable. And he’d never made love. He looked forward to taking her like a sex-craved-lunatic, but slow and gentle had benefits he could get used to.

  Her soft moans rocked his world, inching him closer to the edge. His release built, coiling, preparing to shatter him. He breathed deep, sweat beading on his brow. He’d never waited for a woman to finish first, never cared if she finished at all. But once again, he found himself caring more about Frankie than himself.

  Her legs tightened on his hips, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. She whispered his name on a low moan, the ‘s’ stretching on forever. Deep inside she gripped him. Hard.

  With victory roaring in his gut, he followed her over the cliff, enjoying every second of the free-fall. Never in his life had a woman’s name crossed his lips upon completion. Until now.

  Pressing her into the bed, he collapsed. Breath rushed from his lungs in exerted puffs. He ran his nose up her neck and nibbled her ear. She sighed, digging her heels into his backside. He grinned.

  His little wife might be inexperienced, but she was a natural. He would enjoy showing her the many ways he could love her. And who knew, maybe she could show him a thing or two, too.

  * * *

  Frankie woke up the next morning, feeling an exquisite soreness that made her want to wake up her husband. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so content, so happy. If this was what it meant to be married, she couldn’t wait to do it the rest of her life. She shifted and stretched.