For the Captain (The Detroit Pirates Book 1)

by Jenny Redford

  "The arena."

  "So are you heading home first or going straight there?"

  He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. "I guess I have to go straight there and do the walk of shame into the locker room."

  "I hope the embarrassment is worth it."

  "Oh, it is."

  He smirked and turned, his jaw going slack at the sight of her. She had emerged from her closet now wearing a Jordan King jersey. Her Jordan King jersey. Normally, he would be flattered by seeing someone with his jersey, but those people were usually wearing pants. Charlotte's legs were bare, and it was taunting him.

  "I thought you said you wouldn't distract me."

  "What, is this distracting?" she asked.

  "Yes. A woman wearing a jersey and nothing else is distracting." He stood and began to tenderly zip up his pants before his hands paused, looking up at her with devilish eyes. "Wait, are you wearing anything under that?"

  "First of all, no. And second of all, this isn't just some jersey."

  "Really?" he asked incredulously.

  "This is a Jordan King Detroit Pirates sweater," she said. "And as you can tell from the C on the front, he is the captain, which is pretty impressive."

  He stood quietly as she walked over to him and gently snapped the button of his pants before busying herself with his belt buckle. Then her hands found their way down his chest to the bottom button of his shirt, and he swallowed hard as she began to dress him while he could only stare at her.

  "You're impressed by the captain?" he asked in a low voice.

  "Well, he is a pretty amazing leader for my team. Plus, it's like I said. He's not just any captain." She finished with the last button and straightened out his shirt. "He's my captain."

  "Well, I'll make sure he knows that he's made quite an impression on you." He smiled and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "And I know you've made quite an impression on him."

  "Alright, captain," she said, taking a deep breath. "You better get out of here before I decide you can't leave."

  Charlotte led them out to the living room, and Jordan sat down on her couch next to his coat and put on his shoes. "You know I don't want to go," he said, tying his laces to distract him from looking at her.

  "I know, but we both have other things to do today."

  "Instead of just doing each other?" he asked, giving her one of his trademark smirks.

  "Unfortunately."

  He put his coat on and pulled her close for another kiss, his hand tracing its way along her thigh and under her jersey, groaning when it kept roaming higher and higher feeling nothing but skin. He had to pull away and compose himself.

  "I have this thing so I hope you don't mind if I don't call you until tomorrow," he explained.

  "A thing?"

  He sheepishly stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "I have a routine before games."

  "Ah, another superstition."

  He raised his eyebrows in her direction. "It's a routine," he corrected. "Anyway, I turn my phone off after three o'clock on game days."

  "Gotcha."

  "But I will call you," he promised. "And you'll be at the game tonight, won't you?"

  It almost sounded like a plea, which is not what he wanted but none the less reflected how he felt.

  "I'll see you there."

  He gently kissed her forehead and walked towards the door with Charlotte following right behind him. "Jordan?" He turned to look at her, her brown eyes and blonde hair mesmerizing him. "I had an amazing time."

  "Me too."

  "And one other thing." She leaned past him to grab the door knob, her lips close to his ear, and whispered, "I'll be wearing pants with this jersey tonight, but there won't be anything under them."

  Jordan's head dropped as he groaned and closed his eyes. "You need to show me some mercy, Charlie."

  She smiled and gently kissed the scruff on his cheek before opening the door for him. "Have a good game, King."

  Jordan heard the door close behind him as he walked to the elevator. His body was stiff from sleeping next to someone after so many nights of being alone, and he would need the team's masseuse to loosen up his aching muscles before practice.

  At least the locker room would have copies of today's newspaper so he could have an easier go at the crossword puzzle. And no, he did not purposely leave the puzzle from Charlotte's paper sitting right in the middle of her kitchen table to impress her. And he definitely didn't make it obvious that he had almost completed the whole thing in pen to prove his linguistic skills to a beautiful novelist. Nope, that's not what happened at all.

  His brother's car was in the garage when Jordan got home that afternoon after practice. Ethan would spend some days working there if he wasn't needed on site, which Jordan would normally welcome. But he hadn't come home last night and if he knew his brother — and he did — Ethan would've noticed his absence this morning. He also probably would've been happy he didn't have to share his coffee.

  He had barely made it into the kitchen when he heard, "Jordan? That you?"

  "Are you expecting someone else?"

  Ethan's head popped into the doorway, a knowing smirk on his face. "Well, well, well. Look who finally made it back."

  Jordan just casually shrugged and opened the fridge, snatching the orange juice from the top shelf and drinking directly from the container.

  "Gross," his brother lamented as he shuffled in. "I guess I don't get any more of that juice."

  "Sorry, I was thirsty."

  Ethan grabbed the stool for the kitchen counter and sat there quietly, staring at his brother in anticipation. Normally, Jordan would take this as a sign and run with it. But Charlotte wasn't normal.

  "So are you going to start talking or not?" Ethan asked. "I have to go yell at the electrician about that building on Congress, and I would rather hear about your night."

  "It was a night."

  Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to be an ass or are you going to tell me what happened?" he said. "Because I'm quite observant, and I know you didn't wake up in our house this morning so start spilling."

  Jordan took another swig of orange juice, trying to stall. He wanted to tell his brother everything. It was something they would normally do after one of them enjoyed the company of a woman. Bragging rights among brothers and all that. But it was also Charlotte, and Charlotte was...

  "Earth to Jordan," his brother said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Are you going to start talking or not?"

  "Sorry," he replied sheepishly. "I just don't know what to say."

  Ethan's tone became more serious as he took in Jordan's response. "Wow. Charlotte had quite of effect on you, eh?"

  "I mean, I did stay, didn't I?"

  Yeah, he stayed. Of course he stayed. She told him he looked comfortable in her place. She ravished him on her sofa and in her bed. She bewitched him with her warm skin under his touch. And when he knew it was time to finally leave, she teased him by putting his jersey on her body. But those were things he could keep to himself for now.

  "Dinner was good."

  Ethan stared at him. "Dinner?" he asked incredulously. "You spent the night with Charlotte Stone, and you want to talk about dinner?"

  "We went to that new place at the Ren Cen with the really good bread pudding."

  His brother looked at him a bit longer before a smirk began to spread across his face. "Yep, she had quite an effect on you," he said. "You OK with that?"

  Jordan leaned against the counter, the weight of what his brother had asked him suddenly beginning to push down on his shoulders. "I should be, right?"

  "Oh no. Don't start over thinking this."

  Too late. Ethan's question had brought up an internal conflict that he had subconsciously been grappling with ever since he first decided to pursue Charlotte. He was hoping he could still ignore it, but the facts as they were now meant that he had to actually address what was bothering him.

  "I'm going to go take my
game-day nap," Jordan grumbled as he took the orange juice container and shoved it back in the fridge.

  His brother stood up from his seat. "Jordan, don't get spooked by your feelings for a woman if you want to have them."

  "Thanks."

  Ethan nodded and headed back to his office, leaving Jordan stuck in his thoughts. He trudged up the stairs, took off his clothes — except for the shirt that still smelled like Charlotte — and climbed under his sheets. Was getting involved with a woman best known for being a socialite really what he wanted to do? He knew she was more than that, but most people would make their assumptions. He had deflected enough reporters' questions that they had finally stopped asking about his personal life before they put away their notebooks. They had finally focused on his scoring and the team and the potential to win the cup this year.

  He couldn't imagine what those reporters would do once they found out about his date with Charlotte.

  The date.

  Jordan groaned and rolled over, banging his head into his pillow before feeling the tension ease in his shoulders as he drifted off to sleep. He would worry about all that when he woke up. Right now, he just wanted to close his eyes and think of Charlotte's golden hair running through his fingers.

  Chapter 8

  Jordan had insisted that he pick Charlotte up on the way home from practice and hang out with him in his part of town. She was all too happy to oblige.

  Like most of the players on his team, Jordan lived out in the suburbs despite the fact that it wasn't necessarily a place for single hockey players. But even though she was living in the city, Charlotte was enamored by the quaint downtown area near Jordan's house. Birmingham was filled with little shops and restaurants for typical suburban families along with trendy new brunch spots, including one that served breakfast — and only breakfast — all day.

  So after a dinner of omelets, hash browns and beer, which turned out to be a surprisingly good combination, Jordan discreetly led her out the way they came through the restaurant's back entrance. It didn't bother her, but this was Detroit, not New York, which made her a bit curious.

  "What's with the covert operation?" she asked as she buckled her seat belt in his Land Rover.

  "What do you mean?"

  She could tell Jordan was trying to act casual but not really succeeding, and she couldn't decide if it was endearing or worrisome. "You walked us in the back door, had them seat us in a corner, and then tried to sneak out of the place undetected."

  "I'm sure the prying eyes here aren't as bad as they are in New York, but they still pry."

  Charlotte stared at him. "And you don't want people to see you with me?"

  Jordan stopped at a red light and turned to give her a genuine look. "I don't want people to see you with me."

  "What's the difference?"

  The light turned green and he turned away from her, his gaze still serious. "You don't have the reputation I have, and I don't want the gossips in this town to make you out to be something you're not because of my reputation," he said softly.

  Charlotte looked at him, her eyes taking in his entire posture. His shoulders were a bit hunched, his hands tight around the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road so he wouldn't have to face her. She couldn't help but reach out and cover his hand on the wheel with her own, gently prying it off and resting their entwined fingers on the armrest between them.

  "We both have our past reputations that we carry with us, and yours is no worse than mine," she said reassuringly.

  He gave her a quick smile. "I just want to get this right, Charlotte."

  He pulled his hand from hers so he could turn down a residential street lined with large homes and towering old trees. There were no streets like this near her old place in Manhattan and none near her new penthouse like it either. It was one of the trade-offs that Charlotte had to make by living in an urban area: no big trees. Outdoor space was always at a premium for her, making trips to her parents' place in the Hamptons that much more enjoyable. But like Manhattan, she had gotten sick of the scene out there too.

  Jordan pulled into the driveway of a red-brick home with traditional finishes and what looked like a large backyard. The three-car garage had plenty of room for his Land Rover and a black sedan that Charlotte assumed belonged to his brother. He walked over to her side of the car to help her out. Even though she knew they weren't practical with his SUV, she couldn't part with her heels. Plus, this particular pair looked good with her tight jeans so she really had no choice.

  The lights were already on when they got inside and she followed Jordan's lead, kicking off her shoes by a bench near the back door. A small hallway led into his kitchen, filled with warm browns and modern finishes. It was the perfect balance between suburban home and bachelor pad.

  "Want a beer?" he asked as he walked over to the fridge.

  "Yes!" came a loud voice from another room.

  "I wasn't talking to you!" Jordan yelled back. A sheepish grin spread across his face. "Anyway, beer? Or I think we have wine somewhere."

  Charlotte gently grabbed his hand. "A beer would be fine."

  "Bring me one too!"

  Jordan rolled his eyes and handed her a bottle from the fridge before going back in for two more. Then he nodded his head in the direction of what Charlotte assumed was his dining room.

  "Ethan!" he called. "I have someone you want to meet."

  Charlotte gave him a questioning look. His brother had wanted to meet her? This could be either really bad or really good. She followed Jordan into the dining room, only to find a pool table in the middle with a man standing next to it who Charlotte assumed was Jordan's brother. Sure enough, as soon as he turned and smiled at her, she easily recognized the blue eyes that matched Jordan's.

  "You must be Charlotte," Ethan said, walking over to shake her hand.

  "And you must be Ethan," she replied.

  "Guilty." He grabbed his bottle of beer from Jordan's hand and raised it in Charlotte's direction. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Stone."

  "Finally? You make it sound like I've become a legend here," she said as she looked over Ethan's shoulder to see Jordan scowling a bit.

  "Oh, you have," Ethan replied. "But I promise it's been mostly good."

  "Mostly? Well, that's better than I expected."

  Jordan cleared his throat and came up to her, putting his hand on her lower back and sending a shiver up her spine. "Don't listen to him. It's all been good. I promise."

  Ethan put his beer down on a bar table in the corner and grabbed his pool cue. "Want to play, Charlotte?"

  "Actually, I was going to give her a tour of the house," Jordan said. "I thought I would try and impress her with our big television."

  Charlotte couldn't help but give him a teasing smile. "I do like a big television," she said demurely.

  Ethan grinned widely, but it was Jordan's reaction that she preferred. It was a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, she couldn't figure out which, but she liked it. "Let's go."

  "Later, Charlotte!" Ethan yelled at them as they walked out.

  Jordan showed her the big television in their living room first, making inappropriate comments about pressing its buttons and finding just the right spot to enjoy it. She really did want to see the whole house, but there was something about his voice turning raspy that made her feel warm all over. She hoped the rest of this tour would go quick. Jordan showed off his office with a dark hardwood desk in the middle that she could definitely appreciate. She would love sitting behind it sometime to get some writing finished, or perhaps do a few more sinful things on top of it. The basement had been turned into the brothers' man cave, which was a little surprising considering the whole house was pretty much a bachelor pad. The walls were lined with framed hockey jerseys from Hall of Fame players and pictures of Jordan with various trophies and medals.

  And then it was up the stairs to the bedrooms. A set of double doors at the end of a long hallway led into Jordan's suite, and
he made sure to open them with a bit of extra showmanship.

  "Where the magic happens," he said teasingly. "I specifically bought the place because it has two master bedrooms. That way Ethan and I each have our own space without having to argue about whose is bigger."

  "More innuendo about size?" She grinned and downed the rest of her beer, taking particular care to let the bottle linger on her lips a little longer than it should have.

  Jordan walked over to her with a wicked smile. "You can't blame a man for trying to have a beautiful woman compliment him."

  "You don't need to fish for compliments from me."

  He reached out and gently grabbed the bottle from her to set it down on his dresser, then walked over to quietly shut the doors. He swaggered back over, his hand sliding seductively around Charlotte's waist to pull her closer. His kiss against her lips was slow and steady and considering how weak her knees were feeling, she was thankful for his arm around her.

  He pulled away slightly to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Would you like to stay here tonight?"

  Jordan seemed to be so self-assured most times, but then there were moments like this when he was alone with her and let himself be vulnerable. She couldn't help but find it comforting to know that he was looking to her for reassurance, and she was more than happy to give it.

  "I would like to stay here tonight." She kissed his cheek, his scruff teasing her lips. "I would like it very much." Her lips made their way to his neck, gaining her a low moan from him that reverberated against her. "So very very much."

  Jordan growled, pulling himself away from her far enough to sweep her off her feet and carry her over to his bed, gently lowering her on the pile of pillows that took up half the space. Charlotte smiled as she pulled him down to her. She was going to like sleeping here tonight — and doing so much more.

  Charlotte rolled over to find herself alone in bed. Again. She didn't mind though. This was Jordan's house and Jordan's bed and all of it reminded her of him. She stretched out under his covers before pulling them back and heading for his closet. Her clothes were somewhere on the floor in a pile, and it would take too long to find them. She needed coffee now.