Finding Us (True Love) (Volume 2)

by Harper Bentley

  We had a huge table that all eight of us sat at, and needless to say, put eight pro baseball players in one place with alcohol and you’re gonna get a little rowdiness. We were loud, but the proprietor didn’t seem to mind since we were tossing hundred-dollar bills left and right at his staff.

  Several women approached our table and I’m not even going to share what was said to or about them. Yep. We were a crude bunch. Most of the guys had girlfriends or wives anyway, so no one took any of them up on their covert and not-so-covert offers.

  When we left, the paparazzi had shown up, and the cameras flashed like crazy, making it appear like it was daylight outside. Logan and I had called a cab upon Baxter’s insistence. I would have anyway, but it was fun to watch him get all bent out of shape when we acted like we didn’t need one, telling him that we hadn’t had that much to drink and would be fine.

  “Dude. Gonna crash at your place. Too fucking snockered to make it to mine,” Logan said when the cab pulled up to my condo.

  I was more than a little out of it, so I didn’t give a shit where he stayed so long as I could fall into my bed immediately. When we got to the door, lo and behold, Alessandra opened her door and came out wearing some kind of baby doll nightgown and sauntered our way.

  “Bitch at nine o’clock,” I murmured to Logan as I unlocked the door. “I’d stay away if I were you.”

  He looked at her, agog. “Hey, hey, pretty lady. And who might you be?”

  I laughed as I went inside knowing he was opening a can of worms that he didn’t want to, but I’d warned him, so he was on his own now.

  “I’m Alessandra,” she replied, heavy on the “san” part of her name, which made me laugh even harder, then even more so when Logan took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. Oh, Jesus.

  She invited herself in while Logan held the door for her.

  “So, Jag’s never mentioned that he has an underwear model for a neighbor,” Logan said, shooting me a dirty look.

  “Well, he’s been slack in his introductions then,” she said with a chuckle, slack coming out as slock, which just kept me laughing.

  “He has at that. Mark Logan,” he said and I noticed he’d not dropped her hand. “Catcher for the Dodgers.” He kissed her hand again and I’d had it. If I laughed any more, I knew I was going to hurl, so I pulled everything from my jeans, throwing my phone, keys and wallet on the bar.

  “I’m out, dude. Make sure to lock up,” I said still chuckling as I made my way to my bedroom where I fell face first into bed and didn’t move a muscle until the next morning.

  “Holy fuck!” Logan said when I came out of my bedroom the next morning. He was in the kitchen frying bacon and eggs. It smelled great and had been what’d gotten me out of bed, surprising me since I should’ve had a damned hangover and the smell should’ve made me feel sick. Whaddya know? Things were actually looking up.

  I walked to a cabinet and pulled out a coffee mug that El had left which made my heart do a little jump thinking that I’d see her in a few hours. As I poured my coffee, I asked him what he was “holy fucking” about.

  “That little number down the hall? Holy fuck!” he repeated, grinning at me as he used tongs to take the bacon out of the pan and lay it on a plate covered with paper towels.

  “Jesus Christ. Don’t tell me you banged her,” I said, knowing she’d probably bug the shit out of me even more now wanting to know our schedule and when she could see him again.

  He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Of course I did. And in your guest bed. Might wanna wash the sheets later.”

  “Gross,” I replied, leaning a hip against the counter. Forget the smell of breakfast cooking making me sick; that info was just enough to do the trick.

  “Swear to fuck, she could suck a rock out of a garden hose, man.”

  “You kidding me right now? I think I’m gonna puke if you keep on with the details,” I said, sipping on my coffee, feeling my stomach churn in spite of my being hangover-free. Again, gross.

  He plated our food and continued with his yammering. “She’s hot, man. I mean it. Once we got past the fake orgasms, it was cool.”

  I did a spit take with my coffee then, spattering the counter. Using a sponge to wipe it up, I couldn’t help but laugh my ass off. I knew it.

  “Figured she was like that,” I said, throwing the sponge into the sink. He handed me a plate and we stood against the counter eating. “You gonna see her again? Please tell me you are so I don’t have to field all her questions about where you are or when we play.”

  “Nah. She’s too fake for my ass, but it was a decent one-nighter,” he said, jamming a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

  “Fuck,” I murmured.

  “Sorry, man,” he said with a grin, not sorry at all.

  I set my plate down, snatching up a piece of bacon. “I’m gonna give her your number and you can deal with the aftermath, dude.” I crunched on the bacon, smirking at him.

  He shook his head at me. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  I grinned. “Oh, yeah, I will.”

  “I’ll just change my number then. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “I fucking hate you right now, you asshole,” I muttered, picking my plate back up to take a bite of eggs.

  I sighed knowing I was going to have to deal with the drama that was Alessandra. Maybe she’d have a shoot in another country and would have to leave soon and wouldn’t bother me about Logan. Yeah, I definitely wasn’t going to hold my breath on that one.

  I arrived that night, going straight to El’s from the airport. I’d called before I left and had to tell her, rather sheepishly, that I had Ross’s key and could let myself in when she told me to come by Starbucks to get hers. She’d laughed and said she’d wondered how the heck I’d been getting in. And that was my El, so sweet and forgiving. God, I loved her.

  “I missed you!” she shouted when she came in the apartment that night, running and jumping on me from where I’d gotten up from the sofa, wrapping her legs around my waist. She spread kisses all over my face then pulled back to look at me. “You’ve been a bad boy, Jagger Knox Jensen.”

  My eyebrows came together as I chuckled, wondering what she was talking about.

  She raised an eyebrow. “You came all the way from California and didn’t bring me In-N-Out!”

  I laughed and kissed her hard, wet and deep. “God, I missed you,” I said then kissed her again.

  “So, I’m starving. What’re you gonna cook for me?” she asked.

  Still holding her, I walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. She clung to me like some kind of marsupial which had her giggling and me chuckling as I bent down to pull something out of the fridge. When I stood back up, she squealed.

  “You did not!”

  I nodded, grinning. “I did.”

  “Oh, my, God! I love you so much right now!” She covered my face in kisses again as I walked to the bar and sat her ass on it.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said. “What do you mean ‘right now’?” I held the bag of In-N-Out away from her reach, my other arm wrapped around her waist keeping her sitting on the bar.

  She giggled some more. “I mean, I love you all the time, but right now, I really love you.”

  “Because I brought you burgers?” I tilted my head down, looking at her as if I were looking over spectacles.

  “Well, yeah!” She laughed even more, trying to grab the bag from me.

  I kept pulling it away from her, making us both laugh. “So if I hadn’t brought you burgers, you’d only love me a little, huh?”

  She stopped reaching for the bag and put her hands on either side of my face, rubbing over my scruff then said seriously, “Jag, I love you for always. Nothing’s gonna change that. Not even if you didn’t bring me burgers.” She pulled me to her and kissed the hell out of me, biting my bottom lip as she pulled away, letting it go after a second, which was sexy as fuck.

  “Always?” I asked, ready to take her to bed rig
ht then even though I knew she was hungry.

  “Always,” she said, smiling wickedly at me, before bringing the bag up to shake it in front of my face.

  “How the hell?” I asked, wondering how she’d gotten it from me.

  “I have my ways,” she said with a snort as she jumped down from the bar, pushing me out of the way and going to the microwave to heat up a burger.

  All I could do was shake my head and grin.

  The next day was Thanksgiving and we were making appearances at both our parents’ houses, dinner at El’s then dessert at mine. I’d already told her about Robbie and all that’d gone on between us, so that morning as we ate breakfast, she’d called him, making sure that he was okay with my being there and that he wouldn’t make an ass of himself. She’d also talked to her dad to make sure he’d keep an eye on her brother.

  “I’m not a wimp, El. I don’t need you or your dad to step in, for God’s sake,” I’d told her.

  “I know,” she said. “But I want things to be nice while we’re there. I don’t want Robbie giving you the evil eye the whole time.”

  “Look, I understand where he’s coming from. I’d do the same for Starr if it’d happened to her. I get it, El. It’s really not that big a deal,” I explained.

  “It’s a big deal if you’re bleeding all in the stuffing,” she said with a frown.

  I laughed. “Babe. Your mom’s stuffing is amazing. I wouldn’t do that. I’ll do it on the green Jell-O Mike’s wife always brings.” We both snickered about that one. Then I told her seriously, “I can handle it. Trust me?”

  She sighed. “Oh, all right. But I swear, you get any blood in my stuffing, and it’s on.” She looked at me in caution then smiled.

  “God, I love you,” I said, hugging her to me hard.

  “Can’t… breathe…” she muttered.

  I chuckled and let her go then bent to kiss her. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, you know,” I said when I’d pulled back.

  “Yeah, yeah. You just want first serving of Mom’s stuffing. I mean, seriously, Jag. When did it become all about the stuffing?” she huffed out, then turned and walked to her bedroom, throwing me a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

  Cutest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

  “Get out of my parents’ motherfucking house!” Robbie growled the minute he saw me when he walked inside.

  “Robbie!” Mr. Love said in a warning tone.

  Robbie’s eyes didn’t leave mine the entire time as he stood staring at me antagonistically.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Love,” I said, putting a hand up in front of him. I walked toward Robbie, ready to block it if he swung at me. “Can we talk outside?”

  He glared at me before nodding then followed me through the kitchen where he grabbed two bottles of beer out of the fridge and we went out the back door. I was hoping he wasn’t going to break the bottles, holding one in each hand and cut me up with them. And I can’t say I wasn’t shocked when he twisted the lids off both and handed me one.

  “Thanks, man,” I said before I took a well-needed pull on mine. After bringing the bottle down, I said, “Look, Robbie, I understand where you’re coming from.”

  “Oh, yeah? Do ya?” he asked a little sarcastically. He was four years older than I was and built like a wrestler, about five-foot-ten and all bulky muscle. Matter of fact, he had wrestled in high school and I’d seen him take down guys at least four inches taller than he was, so I knew he was no slouch.

  “I do. I don’t know if you know the whole story, but I do know I was an asshole to El, and I’m sorry.”

  He took a slow drag on his bottle then looked at me. “Told you last Christmas not to fuck up.”

  I nodded. “I know. And I tried not to. It’s just shit got in the way and—” And that was when he punched me in the face so fucking hard, I went down on one knee, not having been expecting it. I looked up at him in surprise and rose slowly, ready to take him on if I had to.

  “There. That squares shit away.” He shook his hand and I hoped he’d broken it.

  “You fucking kidding me?” I asked, cupping my jaw in my hand, moving it back and forth to make sure it wasn’t dislocated.

  He laughed. “I’m not. Look, I like you, Jag.” When I looked at him as if he were crazy, he clarified. “I really do, and I think you and El are perfect for each other. But she’s my baby sister. You had to have known we’d all wanna beat the shit out of you if you fucked up.”

  He picked my beer up off the ground, wiped the mouth of it with his shirt and handed it to me. I took a drink, swirling it around in my mouth before spitting it out, tasting some blood in it.

  “Yeah, I knew it. Just wish you’d fucking warned me right now before cheap-shotting me,” I replied, taking a real drink then rubbed my jaw again. Fuck, that hurt.

  He shrugged. “That was a love pat, dude. Mike and Jake got hold of you, you’d probably end up in the ER. Consider that me saving you from a long hospital stay.” And then the fucker grinned.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess so,” I agreed.

  “So we square?” he asked.

  “Can I hit you back?”

  “Nah. Only if I do some stupid ass shit to El like you did, but that’s not gonna happen.” He kept grinning.

  “Then I guess we’re square.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder then we walked back inside as if nothing had happened. El raised an eyebrow at me when we entered the dining room where everyone was already seated, but I shook my head and took a seat next to her.

  “You okay?” she whispered.

  “I’m fine,” I answered, putting my arm over the back of her chair. And I was. In the land of “Dude politics” Robbie had been justified in his actions, and I knew it. Like I said, I’d have done the same thing.

  Dinner went off great, all of us chatting about everything, El’s brothers asking me how pro ball was going, even Robbie, all three razzing me for our not making the Series. All in all, it was a nice dinner and I didn’t, not once, bleed into the stuffing.

  “Oh, my God!” El shrieked as soon as we walked inside my parents’ house.

  “What?” I asked, turning to her, startled. My parents were too because they both jumped up from the couch where they’d been visiting with Starr and her husband, turning to look at us. My nine-year-old niece and eleven-year-old nephew, Lark and Finn, had been busy playing video games in the den, but they came running in to see what the fuss was all about.

  “Did Robbie punch you?” she all but screamed as she grabbed my jaw, making me wince and pull away from her.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I hissed, scowling down at her.

  “It is! I’m gonna kill him!” She yanked her cell phone out to call him, but I took it away from her.

  “El, it’s not a big deal, really,” I said again, trying to calm her down as my parents came over to us.

  “What’s going on?” Dad asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Shot of Jim Beam would be nice, though.” My jaw had started hurting a little and I figured some bourbon would be just the thing to fix it.

  “My brother beat him up!” El explained indignantly, grabbing for her phone, which I held away from her.

  Good God.

  “What?” my mother said with concern, her hand going to her chest as she looked me over for signs of a beating.

  By this time, Starr and her husband Chad had come over to see what was going on. So Mom, Dad, Finn, Lark, my sister, her husband and El all stood staring at me as if waiting for me to start gushing blood or something. Shoot me now (which probably would’ve made them happy because then I’d have actually been bleeding).

  “It’s no big deal. He was pissed about what happened in LA, so he punched me. We’re cool now,” I told all of them. “Hey, Chad. Good seeing you,” I said, holding out my hand, shaking his. “Now, can we all come inside?”

  My dad chuckled, putting a hand on my shoulder and pulling me into the living room. Mom asked if I wanted a
heating pad to put on my jaw. Finn and Lark stared at me (still waiting for me to start bleeding), Chad went to get shots of bourbon for himself, Dad and me, and El fumed, throwing me scowls every now and then because I wouldn’t let her call her brother.

  She then changed tactics, giving me her pouty face and tiptoeing up to put her arms around my neck. “Baby, I just want to let my dad know what happened. Just want to call and tell him about Robbie.”

  I wrapped my arms around her waist, leaning down and touching my lips to hers, saying against her mouth, “I appreciate it, babe, but we’re not five anymore and we don’t tell on each other.”

  She frowned, pushing me away from her. “Jerk.”

  My mouth curled up at the sides as I watched her cross her arms over her chest and pout for another five minutes before she went into the kitchen with my sister and mom to get the desserts ready to serve.

  Finn looked up at me. “Did you get into a fight, Uncle Jag?”

  “Yeah, Uncle Jag! Did you hit the asshole back?” Lark added.

  “Young lady, do you want your mouth washed out with soap… again?” Chad asked his daughter.

  Lark covered her mouth with her hands, shaking her head at her father while Finn laughed, teasing his sister about getting in trouble again. There was some banter exchanged between the two about who got in trouble the most. When they’d laid it all out there but couldn’t come to any definite conclusion over who was worse, they both shrugged then they ran off to the den to resume their video games, interest in my “fight” having become old news.

  “She’s discovered cussing,” Chad said with a laugh as he handed me a tumbler of bourbon. “Gonna have a bruise in the morning,” he said, tilting his head to the side to look at my jaw.

  “Yeah, probably,” I agreed with a grin, downing my bourbon. “Well-deserved, though,” I added.

  “As long as you’re okay with things…” Dad said.

  “I’m cool with it, Dad. I understand why he did it.” I looked at Chad. “I’d do the same for Starr. Just be glad you’ve never fucked up, man.” He snorted before going back to the liquor cabinet, bringing the bottle of bourbon over.