Broken Love

by Jillian Dodd

  I grab his face and kiss him, my desire amplified by his words. His fingertips dance across my skin, igniting a fire from the lust still smoldering inside of me.

  November 2nd Pike

  I get a call from Carter.

  "So I packed up Bethany's belongings, rented her a storage unit, and moved everything there. She's staying in my hotel room, which means I am staying at your place. Hope that's okay. Rooms are in short supply, and my client's house is full of friends and relatives in for the game."

  "You're very efficient," I say, impressed.

  "It's not the first time I've had to deal with a jersey chaser, Pike. I know how to take care of my clients. It's what I do."

  "Sounds like I need to be one of your clients. How did she take things?"

  "She was outraged. They always are until you remind them that it's because they sucked someone else's dick. I also talked to Craig about it. The guys on the team look up to you. They think what he did was shitty, but the last thing the team needs when you're playing in the Series is discord. He was shit-faced. She followed him to his room, said the two of you broke up."

  "That makes me feel better, at least."

  "I thought it would. Now, the real question. If they make it back to L.A. for Game Six, are you going to be there? You've got to be getting tired of moping around the house."

  "That's for fucking sure."

  "I know both the team owner and coach have called you, but you haven't called back."

  "I haven't called anyone back."

  "Why?" he asks.

  "I feel like a fucking failure."

  "You're not a failure, Pike. You're injured. And you're still part of this team. Start acting like it. Support them. Encourage them. They are down one game to three. If L.A. wins tonight, it's over. So, I was thinking that I'd like to take you into the clubhouse tonight."

  "How?"

  As he explains, I smile. For the first time since I got injured, I'm truly excited about something.

  Palmer

  Light shines through the curtains, waking me. Snow is fluttering down from the sky like bits of confetti. And last night wasn't a dream. Our legs are tangled, his arm is over my shoulder, his lips pressed against my temple.

  It's a glorious way to start the day.

  I glide my fingertips across his forearm, causing him to murmur.

  "Mhm," he says, slowly opening his eyes. "What do you say we hot tub this morning? Then you can jump out and make those snow angels you love."

  "Naked?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

  "Of course," he replies with a sexy smirk, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing it.

  "Do you have any champagne?"

  "For breakfast?"

  "Why not?" I ask.

  "Why not, indeed. You get the champagne. I'll start a fire and take the lid off the hot tub." He gives me a steamy kiss then says, "Don't take too long," and slaps my naked ass as I'm hopping out of bed.

  I grab a bottle of champagne out of the wine cooler, find some orange juice, and grab a handful of bagels and a couple flutes.

  The view from the deck is even more magnificent, with Cade taking center stage. There's a hint of stubble on his face, his hair is a mess, but his blue eyes are brighter than the morning sky. And the smile he gives me, if my hands weren't full, I'd put them both over my heart and try to stuff this moment into my soul.

  He stands up to help empty my hands, but when he does, I practically gasp as his chest rises out of the water, and his abs come into view along with the V-line that leads down to one of the sources of my pleasure last night.

  "Hurry," he says. "Aren't you cold?"

  I had almost forgotten I was naked and standing outside in the snow. My body is heated simply by his smile--okay, and maybe a few other significant parts, too.

  I hand him the bagels and glasses then climb into the tub, setting the bottles on the edge.

  "It's a beautiful morning," I say as he pours us each a drink.

  "It got even more beautiful the second you walked out on the deck. You look stunning."

  I swat his arm playfully. "I know what I look like in the morning, Cade. Don't bullshit me."

  "Your mascara is a tad smudged, but it just makes you look sexier. And your hair, it's total sex hair." He points to his own chest. "I made it that way."

  "And that makes you proud?"

  He pulls me onto his lap. "That makes me happy." He hands me my glass. "We should toast."

  "To what?"

  "Oh, wow. The list is long. Be prepared. This is going to take awhile." Because I'm sitting on him, there isn't much room between us for the flutes, so they are pressed against our chests. "To surprise blizzards. To your car sliding off the road. To my rescuing you. To dirty Scrabble. To wine. To not being able to sleep knowing you were so close to me. To you being in the hall. As a matter of fact, to the hall itself. To my new four-poster bed. To my soft sheets. To the way your skin feels pressed against mine. To the way you sound when you come. To multiple orgasms. To the way your lips feel when they're wrapped around my dick. How it feels to slide inside you. To rough, dirty fucking. To passionate, sweet love making. To waking up with you. To you naked. And really, mostly to how fucking happy you make me. Cheers."

  I am blushing through most of it, but after taking of sip of champagne, I boldly tilt my hips upward, so we can be joined again.

  "I need your cock inside me, now," I say with a laugh.

  "Why are you laughing? That is not a laughing matter."

  "Because when you asked me if there was anything I needed after being at the hospital, Tory told me that's how I should have answered."

  "Fuck yeah," he says, kissing me again and slowly moving inside me. "That will always be the right answer."

  I chug my drink and set it on the edge of the hot tub then run my hands through his beautiful hair. Sex last night took place mostly in the dark. Now, we are out in full daylight, our gazes locked, our feelings and bodies on full display. Thankfully, the hot tub is fairly secluded, but even if it weren't, I wouldn't care. He's my sole focus.

  What starts out slow, quickly heats up, our bodies moving at a more frantic pace, both reaching for ecstasy.

  "Damn, girl," Cade whispers against my neck when he climaxes and drops his head to my shoulder, kissing it.

  "Getting too old to keep up with me?" I tease. "I mean, you're in your thirties now. You're getting to be an old man."

  "I've always been an old man compared to you, Rookie," he teases.

  "Are you too old for naked snow angels?"

  "The ski trail goes right by the house. With all the powder, I'm sure it will be busy."

  "Then a lot of skiers will see my naked ass making a snow angel." I stand up, hop out of the tub, and grab his hand. "Come with me, Cade."

  He takes my hand and says, "Always."

  I scream as we run through the snow on the deck, down the stairs, and to the backyard. He grabs me around the waist and tackles me into the snow. "Ahh! That's so cold!"

  "I think it feels good. You keep getting me hot."

  I pull away from him, quickly make a snow angel, and then run screaming back upstairs, the snow feeling so cold on my feet it almost burns. I start to ease into the hot tub, but Cade picks me up and carries me into the house, lying on top of me in front of the fire and then covering us with a blanket.

  "It's my understanding that body heat is the most effective way to get warm."

  "I'll bet it is," I agree, putting my lips against his chest.

  After making love by the fire, we decide to go skiing. We can't let the perfect powder go to waste.

  Pike

  I prep for tonight like I'm actually playing in the game. Shower--well, a sink shower, shave, and put on a suit. Well, actually, I can't put on the suit pants, and I don't want to cut up the leg, so I put on shorts.

  Then I decide I feel ridiculous.

  I find the plastic bag from the hospital with my clothes in it and put on the shirt.

/>   Then I get myself set up in front of the computer for the teleconference that will be beamed into the clubhouse.

  When I see my teammates' faces in the locker room, I start speaking.

  "I'll admit, many of you have called me, sent texts and well wishes, and I haven't replied to any of them. Because I felt like I let you all down. I felt like I failed. I was reminded today that I'm still part of this team, and that I need to start acting like it. I got hurt. Big fucking deal. We all get hurt at some point in our career. We suck it up, rehab, and keep going back out there. I was going to address you all in a suit, like I would before a normal game, but it didn't feel right. You'll notice I'm wearing the jersey I wore when I got hurt. It's dirty. Full of blood, sweat, and tears. And they are all mine. Look down at your jersey right now. Tonight those jerseys don't just represent your city. Your team. Your jersey represents the culmination of your career. The hours you've spent practicing and playing since you were a kid. The blood, sweat, and tears you've left on every ball field you've ever played on." I pause briefly, collecting myself.

  "We're down three games to one, and I have just one more thing to say to you. Don't you fucking dare let them win the series in our house. You're coming back to L.A. for games six and seven, and I'm going to be in the dugout with you. And we're going to make everything these jerseys represent worth it."

  My teammates look emotional then cheer and head out to the field.

  And I feel like myself again.

  Our team wins Game Five, and I am so incredibly pumped about it. The series is now two to three, meaning Tampa is coming back to L.A.

  Cade

  We get back from skiing, take a sexy shower, have fun making pasta together, and end up back in the hot tub. Honestly, my body needs it. It's gotten an extreme workout in the last twenty-four hours.

  Not that I'm complaining.

  I put my arm out, and Palmer snuggles into it, fitting perfectly as usual. That's one thing about us that always amazed me--how perfectly we fit together. I've been with a lot of women over the years, but no one has fit the way she does. Like we're two pieces split apart at birth who found their way back to each other. I wonder if that's what soul mates are. Some predestined pairing.

  Now that the snowstorm is gone, the night is cloudless and there are a billion stars in the sky. While Palmer is stargazing, I'm Palmer-gazing. Just staring at her beautiful profile, the way her wet hair is curling around her face, the splay of lashes on her cheeks when she blinks, the rosiness of her high cheekbones.

  "Ohmigosh, Cade! Look! A shooting star!"

  "I see it!"

  "I've never seen one before," she says.

  "It's a sign," I tell her, caressing her arm.

  "What do you mean?"

  "We just had another first together. I want the rest of my firsts with you, Palmer."

  She turns away from me.

  "What's wrong?"

  When she turns back to face me, there are tears in her eyes.

  "Why are you crying?"

  "I'm just so happy. I can't believe I'm sitting here with you. I was afraid it wouldn't be as good. Or that it would be good, and we'd only do it once, and it'd be over. That you'd think I got fat. I don't know. It's like all at once every single insecurity I have has come out. I don't want this to be just a stuck-in-the-snow thing."

  "We've wasted too much time apart," I tell her.

  "We have amazing chemistry."

  "Is that another way of saying the sex is mind-blowing?"

  Well, someone was blowing something," she says, naughtily. I love her playfulness.

  "There was a lot of mutual satisfaction, I think," I tease back. But then I take her face in my hands, wipe her tears away, and speak from my heart. "Palmer, I've been in love with you for most of my life. As far as I'm concerned, this isn't just a stuck-in-the-snow thing. This is a together forever thing."

  She smiles at me, but more tears fall. She throws her arms around my neck. "I love you, Cade."

  "I love you, too."

  November 3rd Palmer

  "I didn't hear you come in last night," Pike says, rolling into the kitchen.

  "I took the red-eye. Slept in. Look at all these flowers! I take it people now know where you're staying. How are you feeling? I heard Tampa won last night. Do you still want to go to the game tomorrow?"

  "Absolutely. How was Tahoe? Did you get your scripts read?"

  "What scripts?"

  "The scripts you went up there to read?"

  "Oh, yeah. They were really amazing."

  "So you're planning on doing a deal?"

  "Definitely," I say dreamily, not at all talking about the scripts.

  "Which ones did you like? And what did you like about them?" Tory inquires, joining us in the kitchen. "Are you interested in any of them for yourself?"

  "Oh, yes, very."

  "You're acting really strange," Pike states.

  "No, I'm not. I'm just in a good mood."

  "Good enough to take me out to dinner tonight?" he asks. "I'm dying for a big steak."

  "It's a date," I tell him.

  The doorbell rings, and Tory goes to answer it, explaining, "We have another delivery. I just let them in the gate."

  She runs to the door and comes back into the kitchen with a large box, setting it on the island. "It's for you, Palmer. What is it?"

  "I don't know," I say, undoing the ribbon and taking off the lid.

  My eyes get huge when I see what's inside. "Oh my gosh! They're better than roses!"

  "What's that?" my brother asks, rolling himself over to take a closer look.

  "Sheets!" I say excitedly, opening the package and rubbing the soft fabric across my cheek, remembering.

  "You're grinning. Who are they from?" Tory wants to know.

  I don't have to look at the card to know the answer. "Cade," I say proudly, wondering how Pike will react to hearing his name.

  "Why is that asshole sending you sheets?"

  "There was a blizzard when I was driving to the house. The streets were slick. I slid off the road. Cade happened to be driving by and rescued me."

  "Why didn't you call a tow truck?"

  "I did, but they couldn't get there for at least an hour."

  "So he drove you to the house?"

  "No, it was too far. And the roads were a mess. He took me to his house."

  "And?"

  "And I stayed there."

  "And?" he says, his face turning red.

  "And, all of his rooms have these sheets. They were so soft I said I that I wanted to get some, so I guess he decided to send them."

  "He's still a fucking prick," he says in an irritated tone as he rolls away.

  Cade

  I get an email from the service letting me know the gift was delivered to Palmer's house. I thought about sending her flowers, but this seemed more appropriate.

  She calls me.

  "I got your gift. I just have one problem with it."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm hoping they don't mean that I won't be invited to sleep on your sheets now that I have a set of my own."

  "I was a little worried Pike might get mad at you. Did you tell him anything?"

  "I told him we hooked up, and it was amazing."

  "Palmer! What the hell?"

  "I'm joking. I didn't tell him anything other than you rescued me, and your new house has great sheets. It's none of his business what I do."

  "I should talk to him."

  "You should, but not now. I'm too happy."

  "I'm happy, too. I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  "Can I see you tonight?"

  "I promised Pike I'd take him out to dinner."

  "After?"

  "Hmm, maybe I'll put him to bed and sneak over to yours?"

  "I'll be waiting all day for that."

  "I had another first with you last night, Cade."

  "What's that?"

  "The Mile High Club," she purrs. "That was
fun."

  "I wholeheartedly agree. The weekend was fun. All of it."

  November 5th

  Palmer

  "That game last night, can you believe Tampa pulled it off?" Tory asks, wandering into the kitchen this morning.

  "It was amazing!" I add, although, honestly, I didn't watch it. Pike went to the game, so Cade came over to properly break in my new sheets. Even though he left before Pike got home, I lingered in bed for longer than usual this morning because my sheets smell like Cade.

  I can't even believe how happy I am.

  But I'm sad about one thing. That I can't share my happiness with my brother. At some point, I need to grow a set of balls and just tell him. Just maybe not while he's staying at my house.

  "The phone and doorbell have been ringing off the hook with interview requests and gifts for Pike," Tory says. "I feel like I haven't been getting a whole lot of work done the past few days."

  "That's okay," I say dreamily, knowing I have lunch plans that involve getting naughty on Cade's desk. It's something I've always wanted to do, but never have. And if we're going to have more firsts . . . "You go ahead and help him. I don't have anything pressing."

  "No, but you've got a full schedule today," she says, handing me a sheet of paper. "Hair and makeup at nine, radio interview at eleven, meeting at the studio to pitch your latest production project at two-thirty--"

  "Then I'm going to the game with my brother," I finish for her.

  "Actually, I have interviews pre-game," Pike yells in from the family room couch. "I have to be there early. Can you meet me there? Tory has your VIP tickets and all the details."

  "I can do that," I say, making myself a quick smoothie and heading out the door.

  Cade

  "I can be at your office at twelve-thirty," Palmer says when she calls me. "Will you be free?"

  "Like for lunch? Sure. Do you just want me to meet you somewhere?"

  "No, I'll meet you there, and I'll bring lunch. Don't ask questions."