SPIKED (A Sports Romance)
Page 19
Love, after all, didn’t give up when things got difficult, I thought, and kissed him again and again and again.
THE END
We hope you enjoyed this book, please be sure to leave a review and let us know if you did!
If you want to know about the next release from Harper James and get alerted to more of the hottest deals in romance—sign up now to the Favor Ford Romance newsletter!
Continue reading this ebook for the first 3 books of Paige North’s Second Chance With My Brother’s Best Friend series!
Bonus Material: Second Chance With My Brother’s Best Friend, Books 1-3 by Paige North
I
Filthy Liar
1
“I hate my boobs,” I said, turning sideways as I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. “And these lights are really unforgiving.”
Annie, my best friend, swatted my arm. “Shut up, Taryn. I’d kill for your boobs. I couldn’t even get that dress over my chest.”
I grinned, giving up at adjusting my new sleeveless dress. The plunging neckline didn’t allow for a bra, and I felt a little weird about it. “I can’t believe you talked me into buying this thing. I regret it already.”
“It’s hot and you’ll never find another Karen Millen for forty bucks again,” Annie said, flopping down on her bed amidst a pile of shopping bags and new clothing. “One of us had to buy it, and it wasn’t my size.”
It was hardly my size. The dress barely covered my backside, and my boobs were trying to make a quick escape. “I’m putting my jeans back on,” I said, crossing the tiny studio apartment she called home.
“No way.“ She barreled across the room, blocking the bathroom door. “We’re going out, Taryn.”
She was only 5’2, but staring me down, her arms crossed, she looked like she could lead an army to war. She was actually a rec leader for the city, and I could easily picture a field full of soccer kids jumping exactly as high as she commanded.
I pursed my lips, trying to meet her steely gaze with the same fierce determination, but I failed and laughed instead. “Come on, Annie. I can go out in jeans.”
“Uh-Uh. No way. I know you,” she said, poking my shoulder. “You’re going to hang up that dress and it’s never going to be seen again. Thirty years from now I’ll be cleaning out your closet because you died of boredom, and there it will be, the tags still attached.”
I snorted. “Maybe you could still return it. At the rate my career’s going, it might be the crowning jewel of my estate.”
I reached around her for the bathroom door, but she slid over. “I’m serious. Let’s go out. I want a drink, and you look too hot to stay home.”
I waffled. Maybe a drink wouldn’t hurt. And then I could bury this dress in the back of my closet, guilt-free because I wore it in public one whole time.
She wiggled her eyebrows at me, grinning like she knew she’d won. “First one is on me.”
I sighed. There was no arguing with Annie once she had her mind set on something. “Fine, but it’s going to take at least two to get comfortable in this thing, and I’m borrowing your silver heels.”
“Is it always this dark in here?” I asked, squinting across the room. We were in a horseshoe shaped leather booth, nursing mojitos that glowed faintly under the dim light of the chandelier.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in here.” She glanced around, her hand sliding across the buttery leather of the seat. “A girl at work was raving about it. She’s from New York so I figured she knew a good lounge when she found it.”
“I didn’t even know Orting had a place this nice,” I said. “Or people who would frequent a place this nice, for that matter.”
Annie grinned wickedly. “Don’t be such a snob. Two years at UW, and now you’re a city girl, too good for Orting? What will the fighting Cardinals do without your support?”
I faked a laugh at her joke, as if it didn’t needle beneath my skin.
Two years away at UW. Not four. I should’ve been graduating the next spring, but instead I was in a clearance dress in the only fine dining establishment in all of Orting, Washington. A tiny little farming valley, our only claim to fame was that if Mt. Rainier ever blew up we’d all be dead. The town was built over an ancient mudflow. Perfect for farming. The town had basically one road in, and one road out, on either end of the valley.
I was pretty sure it was made to trap people. But not in a volcano sort of way, in a more figurative one. We were just isolated enough that people forgot to dream of taking on the world, of traveling, of accomplishing something outside of this place.
“Ugh, you’re getting that look again,” Annie said, frowning.
I blinked. “What look?”
“The whole ‘woe is me, I should be a nuclear physicist by now,’” she said, twirling the straw in her drink.
I gave her an entirely different sort of look. “Chemist,” I said.
“The only chemistry you need to be worried about is the kind you have with that bartender,” she said, nodding to the guy behind the counter. “He’s been staring directly at your rack. You might as well have a homing beacon in that dress.”
I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the tall blond behind the bar. His white dress shirt and maroon vest did fit nicely across his shoulders. “He’s been staring at you,” I said. “He totally brushed your hand when he brought us our drinks.”
He was a little too lanky and a lot too smiley for my taste. He was like a shiny Disney prince or something. “You should definitely go for it,” I told her. “He’s cute.”
“Nah, I think we should sample the options before committing.”
I raised a brow and gestured around the room. “In case you didn’t notice, this place is dead.”
“Only out here.” She nodded over my head, where a curtain was drawn halfway across a wide entry. Voices hummed, laughter trickling out over our booth. I twisted around to get a better view, but the curtain blocked most of it. Judging by the sliver I could see, at least fifty people were back there.
I turned back to Annie. “You wanna crash?”
“Let’s just check it out,” she said, lighting up. “You’re all dressed up, might as well find somewhere to go. It’ll be like old times. Please?”
“Old times” being our high school habit of crashing parties we were never invited to, because we were too far down the social ladder.
Half the time, they were my brother’s parties. Not that it mattered; I still wasn’t invited.
Annie and I had quickly learned the two-fold key points to successful party crashing: 1) There has to be enough people that you can get lost in a crowd. And 2) You always, always act like you belong.
Maybe it was the drink talking, or the dress, or the delicious aroma of whatever food they had laid out in back, but I was suddenly feeling bold. I sucked down the rest of my drink, warmth unfurling inside. “Fine. Yeah. Let’s do it. But I’m going to need another drink.”
Annie squealed and slid out of the booth, following me up to the bar. It was red, lit from below so it glowed. The place reminded me of a movie theater.
The bartender, having predicted what we’d want, slid two new drinks toward us. He winked at Annie and she giggled. I resisted the urge to tell her once again how he was totally into her.
“Thanks,” I said, picking up mine and sucking down half of it before following Annie toward the back. She met my eyes and clinked her glance to mine, as if to say here goes nothing, before stepping past the privacy curtain.
The back room was larger than I expected, with at least a dozen tables, plus the buffet set up against one wall. Groups of well-dressed people circled around tall tables, meant for standing and small talk.
Good. Rule number one covered—there were enough people that we could blend in.
“They have bacon-wrapped water chestnuts,” Annie murmured, dragging me over to the spread of food. “Have you ever had these before? They’re SO good!”
I elbowed her. �
��Shh,” I said.
“Right, right.” She glanced over her shoulder, way too conspicuous. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done this. Sorry.”
We grabbed a small plate each, moving down the line and piling them high with snacks. I discreetly checked to see if anyone noticed—or cared—that two girls just showed up to pillage their food.
“I wonder what this is for,” I whispered under my breath. “Everyone’s so dressed up.”
It was a good thing Annie talked me into wearing the dress, because my jeans would’ve gotten us kicked out of here in thirty seconds.
“Let’s snag that table,” Annie said, dragging me over to a booth in the corner. I slid around the curved leather seat, taking in the room in full as I bit into a stuffed mushroom.
“Oh my god this is so good,” Annie said. “It tastes like heaven.”
“It tastes like money,” I said, growing curious. The cheese was sharp and smoky, the mushroom drizzled in truffle oil.
“Well that’s not tacky,” she said, giggling.
“I just mean… it makes me wonder what kind of event this is. A little high-brow for Orting, don’t you think?
Her curiosity finally piqued, she scanned the room. “It does seem kinda fancy. Let’s play a game…. We each get one guess as to what this little shindig is all about.”
I leaned back in the booth, crossing my legs at the ankle. “Alright. And how do we know who’s right?”
“I’ll wait until we’re ready to go and then asked someone. Now let’s see… Hmmm, suits, but no ties, so nothing too stuffy. Not enough black to be a funeral reception.”
“Thank god,” I said drily. I turned to the room, taking in its occupants. “Looks like some kind of work function to me.”
She leaned forward on her elbows, studying the room. “How can you tell?”
“Doesn’t really look like anyone came as a couple.” I scoot over, so Annie and I are hip to hip. “See? No one is leaning into one another, no one has their arms around each other. These people look like colleagues or something.”
She nods, sipping at her drink as she scans the people in the room. “Good call. So not a rehearsal dinner or engagement party, then. Some kind of business thing.”
We fell silent, scanning the room for clues. “Hey… isn’t that the mayor?” I said, nodding toward a tall, elegant woman in a smart black dress and pearls. “I mean I don’t know her, but it looks like the billboard.”
“Oh, actually, I think you’re right. And that guy standing next to her is Earl Thomas,” she said.
I recognized the founder of Thomas International, a nationwide shipping company. They employed half the town.
“Okay, so definitely a business function,” I said, warming up to the challenge. I was Nancy Drew, piecing together the clues. Better than a night stuck at home, playing scrabble with my brother and dad, anyway. “Alright then. If I had to guess what they were celebrating, I’d go with—”
“The launch of Prestige Sports Medicine Center,” came a voice from behind us.
I stiffened, the honey-toned voice washing over me. It couldn’t be. He hadn’t been back in years. There was no way…
“Landon,” Annie said, darting me a look. “Long time no… uh, talk.”
I closed my eyes, raking in a deep, steadying breath and wishing I’d had about six more drinks. Maybe then my heart wouldn’t be hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. Maybe then, I wouldn’t want to stand up, stare him straight in the eyes, and slap the hell out of him.
Instead, I twisted in the booth, trying to act as unaffected a possible. “Landon,” I said coolly.
“Taryn,” he said back, the edges of his lips curling. The image of him, smiling down in that self-assured, almost arrogant way, slammed me back three years. To all the times he looked at me like that, to all the times I grinned back, flirting with the edge of danger, until the day I’d jumped right off.
And regretted that choice every day since.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was doing my best to hide my shock. It was like trying to pretend that you didn’t notice the earthquake happening all around you—the tidal wave about to smash everything you knew to bits.
“I could have asked you the same thing,” he responded.
I narrowed my eyes. “I live here.”
He chuckled. “You live in a bar?”
Ugh, playing dumb did not suit this man, with his startling blue eyes that saw everything. He knew exactly what I meant.
“Not here,” I snapped. “I’m talking about Orting. You haven’t set foot in this town in three years, since--” I caught myself just I time, my mouth growing dry. “In three years,” I finished.
He gripped the edge of the table, leaning in until he was close.
Too close. Annie faded beside me, and I could only stare back, remembering the last time we looked at each other like this.
“And yet,” he said, as his lips curled into a wolfish grin, revealing his teeth. “Here I am.”
I swallowed, ignoring the rich scent of his cologne, something light years different than the stuff he used to wear. More… mature, just like the man standing in front of me, filling out the shoulders of his black sports jacket. “Why?” I managed to ask.
“I told you,” he said, standing upright again. “To celebrate the opening of the Prestige Sports Medicine Center.”
I finally was able to let the air rush back into my lungs, and my head cleared a tiny bit. I snorted. Tried to act nonchalant, like his proximity wasn’t effecting me.
Tried to treat him as the twenty-two year old who left me behind, and not like this man, who dressed too sharply to belong in this town. Tried to pretend he didn’t fill out his jacket in a way he had no right doing.
I crossed my arms, steeling myself against the feelings warring in my chest. “Why the hell do you care about a sports medicine center?”
His grin widened, turning smug. Whatever he was about to say, he was enjoying it, salivating over my reaction like it was going to be his next meal. Until that moment I’d forgotten his arrogance, forgotten the way he walked into every room as if he knew we’d all bow if only he asked.
“Because I own it.”
“Bullshit.”
To this he laughed, shaking his head. “I think I may need a drink for this. Stay put. We have some catching up to do.” He gave me one last look before he sauntered off, and for a moment the smile in his eyes seemed to die and was replaced by something far more intense and hungry.
Then the smile was back and that hungry look was gone, and I knew it had probably all been in my imagination.
I watched him retreat, blinking away the after-effect of his nearness.
“Ho-Ly-Shit,” Annie said, the second he was out of earshot. “How is it possible that he got hotter?”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t give a shit about how great his ass looked in those pants. He didn’t deserve to look so good in his clothes. “Never mind that, how is it possible that he’s back in town and I didn’t know it?”
Annie slurped from her straw, but the drink was empty, gurgling between the ice cubes. “Do you think your brother knew he was coming?”
I shrugged, sinking in my seat. “I’m not sure, actually. Matt’s been kind of distant lately. He’s got this big project at work so he’s been missing family dinners.” I dug into my purse. “I’ll text him.”
I unlocked my phone, fury building in my veins. Tonight had been fun, until now. Until he strolled up behind me and blew it all to hell.
Why didn’t you tell me Landon was back in town?
It took only seconds for his reply to appear.
Why do you care?
I frowned and shoved my phone back into my purse. So Matt knew his high school best friend was back. So nice of him to give me a chance to steel myself from the emotional reaction I had when Landon reappeared…like something out of a dream.
Or maybe a nightmare. I still wasn’t sure which this was.
“What, like we’re just going to pick up where we left off?” I snapped.
His face remained blank as he tipped his head to the side, studying me. “Still the same Taryn, I see.”
“I need a replacement,” Annie said, picking up her glass and sloshing it around. The ice cubes clanked together so loudly I was sure I’d remember it in the morning, like the clank of a prison door slamming shut.
“Enjoy the mushrooms?” he asked, gesturing to my plate.
I leaned back, crossing my arms, trying to create a barrier between me and this arresting, all-too attractive man. “Are we really going to do this? Trade some small talk, maybe discuss the weather?”
“Would you rather do something else?” he asked, his eyes dipping lower.
There’s no way he couldn’t tell I was braless, the way his gaze raked over my breasts.
My cheeks burned, and I struggled to hang onto the anger simmering in my chest. “Don’t be an ass, Landon. You know why I’m mad at you.”
He sighed. “I’m not interested in rehashing the past.”
“How convenient,” I sniped.
He turned, looping his elbow over the back of the seat and pressing his knee into my leg, and his eyes narrowed as he shot back. “You seemed pretty happy with me when we saw one another last.”
I clenched my jaw. “You’re insufferable.”
His grin returned, more seductive now. “Are you sure you don’t want-”
“Stop, okay?” I said, my heart fluttering against my ribcage. “Just stop. I can’t do this with you. I don’t want to pretend-” I caught myself, lowering my voice. “I don’t want to pretend with you.”
I slid out of the booth, the leather sticking to my bare skin. It took only seconds, but it seemed to stretch on forever, because I had to slide all the way around the horseshoe-shape to get out the same way Annie had gone.