Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance (55 page)

How was sodomizing a chicken any better than walking around naked? I tucked inside the mitt, but my body decided that Piper’s shock was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I hardened, and it’d take a dozen therapists to figure out why. But the league hadn’t mandated me to visit a shrink yet, so I wouldn’t question a good old rage boner.

Fortunately for Piper, a bare ass tempered most of my anger.

“If I get glass in my cock…” I warned. “You’re going to see a different side of the beast.”

Piper covered her eyes. “Trust me. I’ve seen
all
the sides of you now.”

“Get out of the kitchen before you get cut on the glass.”

“Well…speaking of getting
cut
—”

I pointed to the cock hiding my cock. “Does this look like a good time to talk business?”

Piper thought better of pushing me. She resumed her sentry in my foyer while I hobbled through the kitchen and swept the shattered glass into the trash.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” I shouted to the entryway.

Piper answered like the invasion was obvious. “I told you. I’m not leaving until you agree to the trade.”

“First you break my damn doorbell.” I sopped up the spilled water with a wad of paper towels. The cut on my foot wasn’t bad, but I was lucky I didn’t lose a fucking toe to the busted bottle. “Then you decide to invade my house. You sneak up on me when I’m
naked
and nearly castrate me.”

I finished with the mess and faced her in the hall.

“What’s next? Waterboarding? Maybe some testicular torsion until I do as you say?”

“You’re being a little melodramatic.”

“Yeah, a man tends to wax poetic with his junk swaying in the breeze.” I glanced her over. “Either I put pants on, or you take yours off.”

Piper pretended she wasn’t interested. “I’ll wait here while you change.”

I saw that coming. I choked the damn chicken mitt and pitched it into the kitchen. My hardened cock fit into my sweats, but I wasn’t happy.

It was five o’clock. Little Miss Madison had an hour and a half until my gate closed for the night. I wasn’t in the mood for a slumber party, not unless she planned to get my pants off again.

I faced her once more, crossing my arms. This game was
over
.

“It’s time for you to leave, beautiful.”

“I realize I’m overstaying my welcome.”

“You were never welcome.”

“But this is important. So if it takes me standing here, skipping lunch and dinner—”

I interrupted her. “You haven’t eaten?”

She shook her head.

“Did you even leave the entryway?”

“No.”

Freak
. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” she said.

I grinned. That was how to get rid of her.

I grabbed my phone and dialed my favorite pizza place. At least I was bulking. A pound of chicken breast and brown rice didn’t sound good tonight anyway.

“Two large pizzas,” I ordered. Piper’s eyes lit up. “Pepperoni.”

The restaurant took my information, but I winked at my salivating intruder.

“Hope you packed a bag lunch.”

Her eyes narrowed as the realization dawned on her. “I’ll manage.”

“Don’t want you to pass out on my porch. Won’t help my reputation.”

“And to think…I actually defended you to the office.”

“That was your first mistake.” I winked, heading back to the den. “Don’t try to befriend a beast.”

I waited the thirty minutes for my pizza, layering band-aids over the cut on my foot and turning up the volume on the sportscast so I couldn’t imagine the sound of her rumbling stomach from the foyer.

She had to eat sometime, and she had to
leave
to do it. She’d go. All I had to do was wait her out.

Or throw her out.

Fire her goddamned agency and find new representation.

Then again, who would take me? If Ainsley Ruport and Sports Nation were right, the Monarchs would cut me by the end of the season. That meant I needed an agent. I was stuck with them. Good thing Piper and her father wouldn’t walk away from a couple million in commission.

It was a stalemate—taking place in my goddamned doorway.

I didn’t hear the delivery driver’s knock. Piper had to yell for me.

“Your
dinner
is here.”

I silently added the
asshole
she was too polite to say. She was kind enough to answer the door though. I tossed a hundred bucks at the driver without a word and took my food.

Piper’s nose practically followed me to the kitchen, but she wasn’t the type to beg. In fact, she’d expect a formal invitation to my unused dining room with all the fancy china set out and a fine musical accompaniment to her meal.

Wasn’t happening.

Piper checked her phone as I prepared a plate with steaming, gooey, thick slices of greasy pizza. A gentleman might have eaten in privacy.

But I was no gentleman.

And Piper was a lady dancing a jig in the foyer. She paced on the balls of her feet, occasionally giving a little hop.

So she was hungry
and
needed to piss.

Perfect
.

I ate my dinner in front of her, teasing Piper with a huge bite of my pizza.

“Do you always watch sportscasts about yourself?” Piper couldn’t be tough, not while dancing her weight from one leg to the other.

“I’m a…popular guy in the league at the moment.”

“So it’s coincidence? Here I thought you were a raging narcissist.”

“Glad I could allay your fears.”

“Yeah, it helps. It’s easier to negotiate if I have the proper opinion of you.”

“You don’t know a thing about me.” I savored a bite too big for my mouth. She actually licked her lips. “And I doubt you’d care.”

“Why? Not much under the surface?”

“Too much for you to handle.”

“Don’t assume muscles make someone tough, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Don’t assume they make a man dumb, Miss Madison.”

Piper stiffened, an impressive accomplishment for a woman in her predicament. “I never said—”

“I’m not interested in what you’re thinking. I just like watching you squirm. Only one thing would make it better.”

“And what’s that?”

“A bit of refreshment.”

Piper shouted to me as I stalked to the kitchen. “You know, this could all be over in like, ten seconds if you would
listen
to me.”

I returned only to drink sip my water while she watched. “Could be over sooner if you leave.”

Piper didn’t look at the water. She ducked her head and continued her dance around my foyer.

Ridiculous.

No. Cute.

“This game isn’t all about dollar signs,” I said.

“It’ll be about big, fat overdrawn checks if the Monarchs cut you.”

“Not worried about it.” I sloshed the water in the cup. “I’ve been the league’s defensive MVP for all three seasons of my career. I’m too valuable to lose.”

“Willing to risk everything for it?”

“Either I play this game the way I want, or the league doesn’t have a place for me.” I met her gaze. “If the Monarchs think I’m too aggressive and agree with that Ainsley Ruport prick, whatever. I’m not changing my style—not how I go after a quarterback and not the damn uniform I’m wearing.”

“You’d really walk away from your dream?” Piper stopped bouncing. “You have an opportunity to do something you
love
. Won’t you sacrifice
anything
for it?”

“If I love it, why would I sacrifice a damn thing?”

“To
protect
it.”

I snorted. “I don’t compromise.”

“No wonder you’re all alone in this big house.”

“Maybe I prefer it that way.”

“Or maybe no one would
compromise
themselves to stay here with you?”

That was the moment she officially overstayed her welcome.

I didn’t get pissed. Didn’t yell. Didn’t break eye-contact with her.

Despite my reputation, I wasn’t normally this cruel.

I held my glass high and slowly tipped it just enough to tease a trickle of water from my glass. The water slipped over the lip and drizzled to the floor six and a half feet below.

It struck the tile with a satisfying piddle.

And I had won.

Piper groaned. She crossed her legs and practically snarled.

“Fine, I’m leaving.” She grimaced and twisted at the waist. “But I’m not going because I’ve given up. I’m leaving because…because I have very poor bladder control these days.”

“
Uh
—”

She fidgeted toward the door. “I’ll be back.”

I laughed. “I’ll be sure to lock up the breakables.”

Piper huffed. She shouldered her purse and stiffly bolted to her car. I slammed the door behind her.

Alone
.

Finally.

But this was only the first battle. Piper entrenched herself for a goddamned war.

I wasn’t stupid. The Monarchs wanted to be rid of me. My career hung in the balance, and the only one who could protect it was the one woman who didn’t know the difference between offense and defense, quarterbacks and receivers, princes and beasts.

But I refused to get traded. I wouldn’t let her control me. And I wasn’t going to imagine her dancing in my foyer, no matter how goddamned beautiful she was.

But even I wasn’t strong enough to deny wishing that Piper had stayed.

“
J
ust fucking marry me
, Piper! Do you know how many women would
kill
for this chance?”

Even in the middle of a proposal, Jasper had an uncanny ability to kiss his own ass.

I considered hanging up on him, but my nerves were already grated into a shredded mess of forgotten dreams and homicidal urges—the Jasper classic.

I parked outside of Cole’s mansion and gritted my teeth.
Now
Jasper decided to return my call? Of course he hadn’t answered when I actually needed him. Saturday morning was a terrible time to ask Mrs. Potter to pull an overtime shift with Rose…especially when it was supposed to be Jasper’s
one
day with his daughter a month.

He hadn’t asked about her once during the five minutes he took to shame me into marrying him.

“Are you proposing because you want a relationship?” The thought made me gag. “Or is this because you’re tired of owing child support?”

Money which, as of today, I
hadn’t
received.

Jasper snickered. “Do you know
any
man who wants to pay child support?”

“How romantic. I’ll meet you in Vegas. We’ll get married today.”

“
Really
?”

I couldn’t tell him to screw off in enough languages. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m not marrying you.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

Obviously not. The
right
thing for me to do was to care for my daughter. I wasn’t going to curse her for the next eighteen years to deal with a deadbeat father who had created her in eighteen lackluster seconds.

I never should’ve crushed on Jasper Theroux in college. Before him, I had my life planned. College. Grad school. Doctorate. Teaching.

But I couldn’t resist that
one
night with the sexiest, most popular guy on campus.

Then, one
whoops
later, Jasper and Dad both thought they knew better than I did. But I could raise my daughter and have a successful life
without
a ring on my finger. Something bigger waited for us, something wild and full of adventure and better than a life being Jasper’s wife could offer.

He coo’ed my name like it’d make any difference. “Piper, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. It only makes sense that we’re together.”

“I…fail to see the connection.”

“Well, just look in the crib. We made the most adorable baby in the world.”

“And when was the last time you
saw
that baby?”

“You post pictures on Facebook,” he said.

“Ah, yes. Father-of-the-year—always there to
like
his daughter’s pictures.”

“I’d do more if we were married.”

I laughed. “Like
what
?”

“Like make more babies.”

Thank
God
I wasn’t driving anymore or I’d have run myself off the road. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’ve always wanted a big family, and you make a pretty baby. We might as well get together and finish the job.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Come on, Piper. Sure, we made a mistake in the past—”

“Don’t call Rosie a mistake.”

Jasper hesitated, making a curious noise in his throat. “So…we’re really settled on
Rose
for a name then?”

I couldn’t afford to have an aneurysm now. “She’s sixteen-months-old! Yes! Her name is
Rose
!”

“Just thought Bella was cuter.”

“I’m done talking to you. Are you taking her today at all?”

“I can’t take her tonight. Are you crazy?”

“Why not?”

“I have a date.”

My kingdom for a fairy godmother who’d skip the gowns and aim straight for the balls.

“Knock yourself out, Jasper. I won’t have
your daughter
ruining your date night.”

I hung up on the bastard. As far as I was concerned, a half a bottle of tequila summoned the stork that brought me a little baby girl to love. Neither of us required her sperm-donor to be happy. All we needed was each other.

And, well—a job.
I
needed a job.

Which meant I had to face the second most egotistical asshole in my life. Only this one didn’t make me angry. Cole caused a more dangerous flutter in my chest.

I unloaded my car and took the steps to his door slowly. I wasn’t dumb enough to let myself feel
anything
for the beastly man, but every inch of Cole had been impressive—and he had a
lot
of inches.

Of course, chasing that sort of fun was the reason my library now shelved
Spot the Dog
and
Goodnight Moon
between hardbound editions of Hugo, Flaubert, and Dumas. I knew it was wrong to think about it. Hell, it was wrong to
stare
when his sword unsheathed, but…

It had been a while since I
fenced
with anyone. And it had been even longer since anyone called me beautiful.

When Jasper spoke to me, it was like he took the compliment himself, praising his own good taste in women. When Cole teased…he spoke like he
meant
it. Hell, a man like him was too rough for politeness and too fierce for insincerity. He did find me beautiful. Sexy.
Desirable
.

That meant I had to be careful. I needed to get in and out of his house before those warm little tingles transformed into full on enchantment.

I knocked on his door, fully expecting him to ignore my arrival. I’d prepared to set up camp on the porch for the afternoon. I’d even swiped a folding chair from the office and packed myself enough of a lunch to get me through early evening. I only hoped I’d break him before I lost an entire day off that I might’ve spent with my daughter.

To my surprise—the door opened. Cole wasn’t happy to see me, but at least he was fully clothed.

“I’m not in the mood today, beautiful.” His stare hardened as I hauled the mobile living room into his foyer. “Haven’t we played enough of this game already?”

“Not yet.” I snapped my fingers. “What’s it called when the coach changes the plan at halftime? I’ve made…”

“
Adjustments
.”

I grinned. He didn’t. “I made
adjustments
to my strategy.”

With a grand flourish, I unfolded my chair, rested my thermos and lunchbox on the floor, and sat.

“So, Mr. Hawthorne. Have you thought any more about your potential career opportunities?”

Cole pointed to the door—still wide-open and poised to slam in my face.

“
Get out
.”

I didn’t move. Instead, I met his storybook blue eyes and aimed my most chastising glance at the big bully.

“I warned you I’d be back,” I said. “This time I came prepared. You won’t need to worry about me going hungry tonight.”

“That’ll be a goddamned relief. Especially when you’re eating dinner in your own fucking house.”

“And here I thought we’d spend a nice afternoon together.”

“In case you haven’t noticed…” Cole gestured over his estate—completely isolated and silent. “I’m a bit of a loner. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“It’s an awful lot of space to go empty.”

“What’s your point?”

I took a chance, trying to open him up. “Where’s your family?”

Cole didn’t like that question. His jaw clenched so hard I worried he’d crack teeth. “Dead and buried. Look around. What you see is what remains of them.”

Oh. So that explained the estate. “But you don’t have anyone to share it with?”

“Why? Thinking of invading my bed too?”

“It’s called small-talk, Casanova.”

“It’s called trespassing, beautiful.”

“You’re awfully grumpy.” I ignored his piercing stare, pinning me in the chair. I pulled a book from my bag, licked my finger, and flipped through the pages. “Rough day?”

So far,
The Beast
was all growl and no bite. He paced the entry way with a fierce scowl.

“Tomorrow is this little thing called
game day
,” he said.

“Yep.”

“I’ve gotta suit up and face my own goddamned mortality against a division rival.”

“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem for the league defensive MVP three years running, right?”

“The game will be on
national
television. With a
sold-out
home stadium of one hundred thousand vicious Monarch fans gunning for blood.”

I didn’t glance up from my book though I hadn’t read a single word. “I think I have something in my planner about the game.”

“Son of a—”

“Aren’t you ready for the season?”

Cole’s baritone threatened and rumbled in all the right places. “I
would
be if I could get one night to myself without you breaking into my house!”

“I figured we’d keep each other company.”

Cole swore. He stormed to his den only to return thirty seconds later. “Don’t you have
anywhere
else to be?”

I flipped the book’s page. “Yes, but…the life of an agent. We’re always on call, I’m afraid.”

“This is fucked up, even for Maddy to organize.” Cole ran a hand through his pony tail. The hair band ripped out, and his mane wove over his shoulders. “A woman like you should have something planned for a Saturday night.”

I did. Patty-cake. Laundry.
Nap time
. That was the most fun. “I thought we disliked small-talk?”

“I swear to God—”

“Mr. Hawthorne, I told you. I’ll leave when you agree to be traded. You know how to get rid of me.”

“Damn right I do.”

Cole loomed over me.

I wasn’t ready for this possibility. I should have been, honestly. But nothing in my life had prepared me for the moment a living, breathing, hunk of colossus double my size decided to pick me up like a sack of flour. I yelped, but Cole hauled me over his shoulder and aimed for the door.

“I’m not used to having guests in my house,” he said. “This might be considered
rude
.”

I kicked, slapping his back with a shocked hand.
Jesus
, it was high up here. No wonder Rose always wanted me to carry her.

“Put me down.” I didn’t bother yelling. I wouldn’t give the behemoth the satisfaction. “This is
completely
inappropriate.”

“Then you definitely won’t like this.”

His hand connected with my ass.

And it
stung!

The slap echoed in the foyer, and I shrieked over his shoulder.

Did he just…
spank
me?

“Oh, you are in a
world
of trouble!” I wiggled. It was useless. A second playful swipe struck my behind, and I let out a frustrated squeal. “Don’t you
dare
, Mr. Hawthorne!”

“Don’t do what?” He frowned. “This?”

A third smack. I bit my lip before I made a good sound.

Enough was enough,
especially
since the sting warmed into a fuzzy tingle that spread a series of shivers where they didn’t belong. I clutched his shoulders to stay upright.

Oh, God. He was
all
muscle.

I swallowed. “Put me down
right
now
.”

“Right away, Your Highness.”

Cole manhandled me over his shoulder and swung me into his arms. I ended up cradled against his chest.

My instinct was to cross my arms behind his neck, tickle my fingers through his blonde hair, and pray for my three wishes to come true.

First wish: A kiss.

Second wish: A lot less clothes.

Third wish: A night of passion so raw and fierce and
dirty
I couldn’t even ask a genie for it.

But I learned
long ago
to ignore those feelings.

“Let me go,” I said.

“Not until you agree to do as I say.”

Like hell. I aimed for his pecs and made my attack. All the muscle in the world couldn’t protect his nipple from a twist.

“
Jesus
!”

Cole dropped me. I landed on my feet, but I threatened him with a thumb and forefinger poised for another pinch.

“Just try me, Mr. Hawthorne.”

Cole rubbed a hand over his chest, massaging his hurt pride. “You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood.”

“
This
is a good mood?”

“Tomorrow I’m suiting up and playing for the Monarchs. I plan to stay there all season.”

“That’s not going to work for me.”

“Tough.”

Cole stormed back to my belongings and tossed me my purse. My hand-eye coordination was limited to putting on eyeliner, and I batted the bag away before it struck me.

Which of course, Cole thought was
hilarious
.

So funny, in fact, he also softball pitched my lunch box to me. I reached for it, but it banged off my fingers and clattered at my feet.

Cole wrestled with my chair next. Fortunately, he didn’t throw it. He grappled with the arms and twisted the plastic material. The metal squeaked, but Cole was in too much of a hurry to close it properly by the little latch on the side.

I rolled my eyes. “Give it to me—”

“—I got it—”

“—You’re going to break it.”

Cole grunted, shoving the legs as I hit the latch. The chair snapped together before he could remove his hand.

Now was probably a good time to leave.

“Son of a
bitch!”
Cole shook his fingers. The profanity didn’t stop. “This goddamned, mother fu—”

Uh-oh. I maimed one of my father’s biggest clients less than twenty-four hours before the season opener.

A linebacker didn’t need his hands. Did he?

“I’ll…get you some ice,” I said.

I ducked inside the mansion as Cole kicked the chair and launched it halfway into the rose garden.

“I’m fine.” He gritted his teeth and followed me inside. “Just fucking go before you set fire to the house or strangle me in my sleep or whatever your master plan is.”

I raced to the kitchen and stole an icepack from the freezer. I managed to wrap it in a towel before Cole gripped my wrist, shaking the ice from my hand.

“What are you trying to do to me?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Are you like…systematically searching for my weaknesses?”

“I…I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

“There’s easier ways of making me break.”

He didn’t release my hand. Instead he stepped toward me, every stomp of his feet a warning for me to try my luck another day.