“Concerns?” Wyatt says with a snort. “Kendall is barely twenty-five and diving headfirst into the most insanely sleazy hookup culture in the free world, bro. Miami Beach? I mean, come on.”
“Which is exactly why my trade worked out so damn well for you, you psycho motherfucker,” I tease him, squinting from the sunlight blasting through my windshield.
“As if you aren’t beyond hyped for all that glitzy South Florida shit, Smoke. You’ll fit right in on the Riders. The whole…being able to keep an eye on my potential train wreck of a sister thing…is just an added benefit. I’m just stoked she agreed to meet with you.”
“Meeting her at her office.” I chuckle. “So formal. But, dude, I’m sure Kendall isn’t a train wreck. She was always such a quiet, nerdy little thing.” I lean back in my seat and dig up all my memories of Wyatt’s younger sister.
I remember her as being pretty shy. Well, except for that one night during the summer when I was home from college. She wasn’t so shy then. But she had grown up and gotten…different.
“I doubt she’s recklessly embracing the South Beach night life,” I assure him, shaking off the memory of me having to turn away the newly sexy and confident Kendall because, well, she’s Wyatt’s sister.
“I told you, one of my boys found her on Flicker. Flicker, Smoke! That sleazy dating app. She’s way too good for that. I’m worried.”
“Collins.” I draw his name out on a soft laugh. “Re-fucking-lax. She has a whole office and everything. Her shit seems very together. I’m sure she’s not getting into crazy trouble.”
“And you’ll still keep an eye on her?” He groans.
“I’m not gonna follow her around like a damn PI, but yeah, I’ll look out.”
“You’ve always been the realest, Smoke.” His tone eases. “All right, I gotta run. Text me later, and give my sis a big hug.”
“Will do. Peace out.” I tap the console screen to hang up and puff out a sigh.
Wyatt is my boy, so of course I’m gonna do him a solid and look out for Kendall while I’m down here. But I’m more than positive there’s nothing to worry about.
Other than that one night, Kendall was always a good, studious, rule-follower-type chick. That night was an anomaly. She was older, and I’d been away at college, and…nothing happened. I stopped it before anything could. I doubt she even remembers it. And I’ll take that shit to the grave before letting Wyatt find out I almost swiped the v-card of his precious little sister.
I half smile and shake my head at the thought.
As I cruise down a windy back road, the thick green hedges break, and I catch a glimpse of the vast, deep-blue ocean. Everything down here seems to just fucking sparkle all the time.
I glance down at my GPS and take the next right, pulling up to some sleek glass buildings and whipping into a parking space.
A small sign outside the building has Collins Renovation & Design listed as being in suite six.
I click the lock button on my car and walk through the automatic doors into the lobby, flipping my keys in my hand and letting the blast of icy-cold air conditioning settle on my skin.
As I step into the elevator, I let my mind race around a bit, wondering what the hell I should be expecting from the twenty-five-year-old, company-owning version of Wyatt’s little sister.
The doors glide open, and I walk into suite six. It’s small, with three desks separated by dividers and warm sunlight filling the space. The windows are huge, and the whole area feels bright and happy. Like the rest of this state, apparently.
And, holy shit, it’s tidy. Like my mom was just here. I’m not one to care about organization, but it’s impossible not to notice it in here. Everything on every desk is perfectly arranged. Not a single speck of dust would even dare to settle anywhere.
“What’s up, man?” A burly-looking dude wearing one of those lumberjack shirts gets out of a chair and holds out his hand. “I’m Jackson Taylor. Construction manager for Collins Renovation. Not to be that guy, but…I’m a huge fan. So glad you’re down here in SoFlo. I mean, wow.”
I shake his hand firmly and give an easy laugh. “Great to meet you, bro. Is, uh…” I peer around the small office space, eyeing an empty desk in the corner by a big window. “Kendall here?”
“Yes!” A tiny woman with short, spiky black hair and an obvious bun in the oven bounces over to me.
You are…not Kendall, that’s for sure.
“She is.” The woman nods with certainty. “She’s waiting for you in the conference room.” She points a finger decorated with rings at a set of glass double doors at the back of the office.
I crane my neck, but can’t quite make Kendall out. Why is my heart beating kinda fast? It’s just Wyatt’s sister. Still, all this buildup and conference rooms and the memory of that night by the lake are making me wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into with this little favor.
Couldn’t we have just grabbed a beer?
“I’m Desta, by the way.” Small Pregnant Woman grins brightly and shakes my hand. “Interior designer and decorator. And his wife.” She places a hand on the construction guy’s shoulder. “And Kendall’s best friend,” she adds quickly.
“We’re a family here, that’s for sure.” Jackson angles his head and smiles at his wife, and I begin to wonder why these two seem so…jittery. I mean, yeah, I’m an NFL player, but I’m guessing they do a decent amount of work on fancy houses. They probably meet a lot of semifamous people.
“That’s awesome.” I smile. “I love to hear it.” I glance around at the office space, noticing boards of house blueprints, designs, maps, plans, and spreadsheets. All organized and labeled. “You guys have a really impressive thing going here.”
“Oh gosh.” Desta holds a hand to her chest. “That’s too sweet.” She turns to Jackson quickly. “Honey, he’s sweet.”
I laugh again and shake my head.
“Are these two driving you crazy? I’m so sorry.” Suddenly, a woman walks up from behind them.
My gaze falls on a pair of blue eyes that remind me of summer skies growing up in Oklahoma. Cascades of caramel-blond waves fall over slender shoulders and a stunningly perfect rack. A tight black tank top hugs her curves, and a pair of dark jeans hug them even tighter.
Jesus Christ. There is absolutely no way that Wyatt’s shy little sister looks like…that.
I swallow my testosterone and remember why I’m here. Okay, she’s hot. Hotter than I ever could have possibly expected. But I’m here to check up on her for my boy. That’s all.
“Kendall!” I shake off the heat and opt for a hug. “It’s been a minute.”
She looks shocked at first, but accepts my embrace. “Andre, hey.” She pats my back and pulls away a bit quickly. “It’s been…what? Six years?”
She brushes imaginary dirt off of her shirt and fixes hair that doesn’t need any fixing.
I angle my head and meet her eyes, jolted by how wide and fiery they are. “Close to seven, I think.”
“It’s really great to see you.” She flips some of that luscious hair behind her shoulder and points at the glass doors. “Come in here. I have coffee.”
Desta whispers something inaudible to Jackson as they both sit back down at their desks, and I notice Kendall shoot them a look.
“So…” She clicks the glass doors shut and hands me a cup of hot coffee. “How are you liking it down here? Big change, I’d imagine.” She sips from her cup and sits down at the small round table, gesturing for me to sit with her.
Her smile is warm and kind, and as I look at her, my mind flashes with an image of the day she got her braces off. I was over at Wyatt’s, and she couldn’t stop smiling and asking their mom to take pictures.
“Huge change,” I say, wishing our chairs were a little closer and knowing I shouldn’t. “And not just with the weather.”
She leans her head back and draws in a long breath. “Endless summer. Isn’t it amazing?”
“It’s…hot. Takes me bac
k to playing at LSU. Pretty far from Oklahoma, as I’m sure you can relate. But being right on the ocean is sick, and the people here are really great.”
Kendall’s chest rises and falls with a soft laugh. “That’s awesome! I heard that the Riders are a special team. Wyatt’s met some of them, and he says they’re all great guys.”
I grin with a hint of cockiness. “I’m sure I’ll make friends.”
She leans her elbows on the table, her expression beaming with genuine intrigue. “So, Andre. Obviously football, but what else have you been up to? How’s life?”
When did baby Kendall get so damn charming? So easy to talk to? So sexy and sweet and utterly irresistible? Her appearance is flawless, right down to each eyelash. Natural and striking and perfect.
“Football.” I smile softly and resist the urge to push a strand of her hair behind her ear. “That’s pretty much…it. There’s not much else to me.”
She taps her coffee cup, looking at me with a knowing and intense gaze. “I find that hard to believe. Sure, you’re a beast on the field, but that’s just your job.” She wets her lips, a gesture way too sizzling-hot for Wyatt’s baby sister to ever, ever make.
I raise my brows and draw back. “There’s nothing else to know. I play football. And when I’m not playing football, I’m working out. Or practicing. Or conditioning. So I can be better at—”
“Football,” she interjects with a flick of her brows. “Got it.”
I shrug and sip my coffee. “Hey. I’m consistent.” I force myself to remember the entire reason I’m there and that I need to be able to report back to Wyatt that his sister is not in any sort of trouble or living some kind of wild, reckless, South Beach hookup life. Time to get some info.
“What about you?” I ask. “You’ve got a dope office going on. I like it. It’s very organized.” I glance out through the glass doors. “What else have you been up to besides building a tiny construction empire?”
She lifts a shoulder and peers through the doors proudly. “I like things to be organized. It is pretty dope, isn’t it?” She turns back to me, a sense of excitement in her eyes. “Not much else besides work, really.” She looks down at her coffee cup and straightens it so the Starbucks label is facing directly out.
I shrug. “There’s gotta be other stuff going on, right?” I don’t want to sound like I’m prying, but so far I don’t have jack shit about her personal life to tell Wyatt and shut him up.
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Just work. I hang out with them sometimes.” She cocks her head toward her two coworkers and friends sitting in the office. “But my job is really my biggest passion. Speaking of houses…” She raises her brows and leans forward.
“Well,” I interject, “what are your other…passions?”
Why does that word sound so dirty right now?
Her adorable nose wrinkles slightly as she narrows her eyes and tries to read me. “Don’t have any really. Just my job. The homes I get to work on…”
“What about weekends?” I ask quickly, unable to help but smile at the push and pull. Is she dodging these questions for a reason? Maybe Wyatt’s right to be concerned…
“I work most of them. House renovation isn’t exactly a nine-to-five. Besides, I spend a good bit of time with the homeowners before I start the work. And usually, that happens on weekends, because it’s when they’re free to talk.”
I lean back in the cushioned chair and watch her soft pink lips press together. “So you just, like, chill with your clients as part of your job?”
She lets out a sigh, and her shoulders relax. She seems to really want to stay on the topic of her work. Sadly, that doesn’t give me anything about her dating life to get Wyatt off my back.
“I don’t know if I’d call it ‘chilling.’” She holds up air quotes, almost mocking me in a sweet and endearing way. “But I like to get to know them. Their heart and soul and…personality, I guess. That way, I can make their house a true home. I can make it perfect.”
“Perfect, huh?” That sentence casts a wave of darkness over me, and I try to shake off the images of the destroyed ruins of the only “home” I ever knew. Sorry, Kendall. Turns out there’s no such thing as home.
“Sounds…personal.” I smile.
She angles her head and brushes that strand of hair I’ve been eyeing behind her ear, revealing even more of her delicate cheekbones and soft, glowing skin. “I think it should be very personal. I mean, what can possibly be closer to your heart than the place you…” She inches back and catches my gaze as something stops her from finishing that sentence.
Of course she remembers. I slept on her living room couch for over a month after the tornadoes.
“Yeah, well…” I smile and toy with my now empty coffee cup on the table. I don’t want her to feel bad. “I always see a house as a place to sleep and keep your shit,” I say on a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.
She doesn’t laugh. Instead, those wide eyes fill with something warm and kind…sympathy? Please, spare it. Football is all I need, and I definitely don’t want to sit here and discuss my childhood sob story.
“It’s fine.” I wave a hand. “So, you’re doing well. Staying out of trouble?” I nudge her playfully, the electricity from the contact with her soft hand jolting me harder than I expected. Maybe too direct, but fuck it.
She frowns and laughs heartily, drawing back at my question. “Yeah. I’m not exactly the troublemaking type, if you recall.”
Except for the night seven years ago when we talked for hours and made out by the lake and almost banged right there in the grass.
Almost as if she can read the thoughts in my mind, she clears her throat and glances away, the memory hanging in the air between us. I can tell she’s probably embarrassed, but she shouldn’t be. We were definitely vibing that night. I felt bad that I had never really noticed her until then. I just wish I hadn’t had to turn her down. Especially looking at her now…Christ.
“Good.” I give an easy smile. “No trouble is good.”
“Hardly have time for any…trouble.” Her voice trails off as the word lingers on her lips. “Because of work.” She swallows and looks at me brightly. “We’re looking for the perfect house right now to do this big contest. We really, really need the money and press coverage and…anyway. It’s a whole thing. Speaking of houses…I heard you bought yourself quite a beauty in North Beach.”
I feel a smile pull at my cheeks slowly. Of course she’d be interested in my house. I’m not particularly interested in my house, but I kinda feel like I’ll chat about anything to sit here and talk to her longer.
“My agent did, actually. I’m not really one for house hunting. I’ve never actually owned a place, but all my financial guys and advisers basically put a gun to my head saying I had to purchase property, so here we are.” I give her a teasing wink and cock my head. “Did some digging, huh?”
“Oh, no,” she says quickly, her face flushing pink and making her even more adorable. “Well, sort of. When Wyatt told me that you and I should hang out since you just moved here, he also mentioned your new house. It’s a really special one. I actually know the house. The Esplanade House, right? I’ve always wanted to see it.” She brushes more hair, this time imaginary, behind her ears and straightens her back.
“Yeah. It’s big, and I like the water view. My agent said it might need a little work, but I honestly don’t care. So what if it’s old? It does the job.”
“So…” She laces her fingers together, a smile teasing. “About that.”
I cross my arms and push back against the chair. I can’t help but be amused by her tangible passion for something I see as meaningless…a house. “What about that?” I narrow my eyes.
“You’re in possession of a massively amazing piece of property.” The smile spreads even wider. “I mean, The Esplanade House is, well, it’s the perfect project for Mansion in a Month.”
I arch a brow and run a finger along my jawline. “Mansion in a Month?�
�
“Yeah. It’s this contest run by HGTV. Home & Garden Television,” she adds quickly.
“I know. I have a grandma.”
She shoots me a brief look and then keeps talking a mile a minute. “Well, it’s an incredible opportunity. Basically, any design firm in the South Florida area can submit a house for application, and the top four will be featured on the televised contest. The idea is that your team has to renovate and update a historic or iconic mansion in exactly thirty days. The winner gets fifty grand in cash and a whopping heap of invaluable public exposure.”
I bite my lip and study her, her eyes glinting with enthusiasm sparking behind every word she says. I let my mind process what she’s getting at and give her a playful smile. “You want me for my house,” I declare slowly, mock surprise and hurt in my voice.
“Well…” Kendall’s face flushes with color again. Maybe the words you want me weren’t the best to say out loud. Oops. “I’d really, really like the chance to update your home.” She looks down at the table and pauses, something breaking in her voice. “We really need it.”
Thoughts fly through my brain faster than I run down the field on a pick six. There’s really no harm in letting her change up some shit in that house. It’s not like it means anything to me, and it never will.
Besides, wouldn’t an obvious reason to see her all the time be…the best thing to do for Wyatt? He did ask me to keep an eye on her. This should make that task easy…if I can manage to keep the rest of me off of her.
Hey, I want to do the right thing. And I can’t disappoint my lifelong best friend. This is just a really good way to spend more time with her. A lot more time.
“Okay.” The word slips off my tongue without another second of hesitation. I cross my arms and lean back in the seat, watching shock register on her pale, delicate face.
“O-okay?” she stammers. “Wait, really?”
I shrug. “Why the hell not? I don’t have any damn attachment to the place, and I’m always down to help out a friend.”
“A friend’s sister,” she corrects with a sexy, teasing look in her eyes.
Rough Ride Page 2
