“Don’t worry. Just get here when you can.”
We hung up, and I cringed as I opened the master bedroom. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered as ball pit balls raced into the hallway from where they had to be two feet deep in my bedroom. “I swear, if that keeps me from Annabelle, I’m going to kill you all.”
The first guest room had bubble wrap around every piece of furniture, and packing peanuts all over the floor. “You guys are so dead,” I promised quietly.
The next guest room had lollies taped to every square inch of the wall. Taped.
By the time I reached the final guest room, my blood pressure was up at least ten points. There was a slight humming sound, and I cringed as I opened the door.
There was a bloody bouncy castle from wall to wall. No furniture. Nothing. Just a netted castle with a giant clown on the top.
“Connell?” Annabelle’s voice came from down the hall.
“I’m at the end of the hall,” I answered, still staring at the castle, wondering where the hell the motor was to shut this thing off.
“Oh. My. God.” Annabelle laughed.
I turned around and my shock faded as I saw her. Those glorious curls were up off her neck, and her dress reminded me of a fifties pin-up. “God, I’ve missed you.”
Gathering her in my arms, I kissed her senseless. She tasted like apricots and Annabelle. Our mouths moved in a ravenous harmony, each pushing and retreating in time until we both panted for breath.
“Wait,” she breathed, stepping out of my arms. “Aren’t you mad? I mean, there’s a bounce house in the guest room!” She looked at the monstrosity with narrowed eyes.
“Aye, a little, but mostly I’m just impressed. The lads have never been able to prank me.”
“Never?” She smirked.
“Not once.” I shook my head. “My record at the rink was untarnished until now.”
Her smile widened, and then she started laughing.
Those prank-seeking hackles raised. “Annabelle Clarke.”
“At least your record remains perfect...at the rink!” She busted out laughing, and I stood there staring at her open-mouthed.
“Ye did this?”
She nodded, still laughing.
“Och. From that time I gave ye the tour.”
Again, she nodded, but this time she looped her arms around my neck. “Want to take a tour with me?”
“Aye. I think you’d better show me what you’ve been up to, my sweet little innocent Annabelle.”
She pressed a kiss to my lips, then took my hand. “This is because you are never what I expect.”
“Aye, that was a wee bit unexpected,” I admitted.
She led me down the hall, and I followed, watching the sway of her hips. It might have only been a week, but I was desperate for her.
“This room—” she pointed into the room full of lollipops. “Is because from that first day, I was a sucker for you.”
I chuckled softly but melted a little. That had to have taken her hours.
Her smile was radiant as she looked back at me and then led me to the next guest room. “So you have to remember to handle me with care.”
The bubble wrap.
“And promise to stay just as playful as you are now,” she pointed to the ballpit that was our bedroom. “Because sometimes, I take life too seriously.”
My hand still holding hers, she led me down the steps to the living room. “You turned my life upside down, Connell MacDhuibh,” she told me with a soft kiss.
When the kiss shifted, becoming deep and thoroughly arousing, she pulled back and led me to the hallway.
“And all I see now is...well, you.” She pointed.
I laughed out loud. Somehow I’d missed that she’d replaced every single photo down my wall with my headshot from my rookie year.
“You are utterly, completely brilliant.” I ducked for a kiss, but she spun away, walking right through the front door.
I followed her. How the hell could I not?
“Holy hell.”
Every one of our friends stood at the end of our driveway, each holding a poster board that when put together, spelled HAPPY B-DAY.
Oh. God.
She was going to be so embarrassed. It wasn’t my birthday. Not even close. This...oh shit. What was I supposed to do?
I tried to pick my jaw up off the floor and close my mouth, but I was stumped. She’d done all this work, and it was going to make her feel so—
“Is there a problem love?” she asked, winding her arms around my waist with a wide grin.
“Um...No...it’s...It’s perfect, Annabelle.” I hugged her to me and looked over at my friends with wide eyes. Didn’t at least one of them know that I was a November guy?
“You sure?” She looked up at me with mischievous eyes.
“You are completely perfect.” I kissed her in full view of everyone, much to their cheering. I lifted my head, releasing her lips with remorse. “But love, I need you to know—”
“Look again,” she urged.
My brow puckered, but I did as she asked. The signs had been flipped, and the two on the end were now blank. The rest spelled out MARRY ME.
I jolted, swinging my gaze back to lock with hers. “It’s the 25th of June,” she said softly. “A year ago, you started a six-week community service term with me, and I fell hopelessly in love with you. Now I’m wondering if you might want to sign up for a life sentence.” Her smile shook.
She’d done all of this, and was...proposing? My heart stopped.
“Are ye proposing to me, lass?” I cupped her cheeks with my hands.
She nodded nervously, excitement shining clear and bright in her eyes.
“You know I’m supposed to be the one that does that, right?”
She nodded again but didn’t shy away. She really was doing this in front of our friends, facing her worst fears for me. “I figured that nothing about us has been traditional.”
Well, she certainly had that right.
“Aye, Annabelle, I’ll marry ye. But only if you let me run upstairs and get the ring I already bought ye.” It was classic, just like she was, and had been waiting patiently for the right time to shine.
Leave it Annabelle to surprise me.
“That’s a yes?” she bounced up on her toes.
“It’s always a yes when it comes to ye. Yes to marrying ye. Yes to building a life. Yes to forever.” I swept her up in my arms and kissed her deep, savoring the taste of joy on her tongue.
Then I waved to our friends and carried Annabelle into our home, where I promptly shut the door on them. Forevers were something you started in private.
And this was most definitely our forever.
Grinder Sneak Peek
If you love the Reapers, you’ll love Gage! Turn the page for a peek at the first chapter of Grinder and learn how the hottest player in the NHL became the Reapers’ coach!
Connect with me!
Text SAMANTHA to 77222 to be the first to know about new releases, giveaways, & more!
Sign up here for my newsletter for exclusive content and giveaways!
Follow me on Amazon here or BookBub here to stay up to date on all upcoming releases! You can also find me at my website here!
Grinder
GAGE
Getting a three-year-old to sleep should be an Olympic event.
“Is that better?” I asked Lettie, smoothing back her thick brown hair from those summer blue eyes as she drained the small glass of water. She nodded, her smile full of tiny, gapped teeth as she settled back against her pillow.
If hockey was my world, where I made my living breathing the game, the ice, the needs of my team, then Lettie was my sun—the only thing in this universe that thawed my heart.
She was also the only thing I’d ever be caught waxing poetic about, but I couldn’t help it, I was owned by a tiny three-year-old.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, but the way she plucked at her covers and wiggled h
er tiny feet told me there was something else on my daughter’s mind.
“What’s up, sunshine?” I asked.
She looked up with excited eyes. “I like that Bailey is here.”
“Me too,” I said, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face at her happiness.
“I like Bailey.”
A small chuckle rumbled through my chest. “Well, me too,” I said, ruffling her hair.
“And now she’s here all the time? Mornings and everything?”
“Yep,” I answered, reaching for her bedside table. Bringing Bailey to live with us as Lettie’s full-time nanny was a no-brainer. As often as I’d need her to travel with me for away games, and with the unpredictability of my schedule, it was really the only way for her to have a life...for either of us to. She’d been doing the job for six months already, but with the season starting up, it was the right time.
“So when I get up she’ll be here?”
I paused before turning out the light and took a deep breath. “Yes, but Lettie, let’s wait until the clock has a seven on it, okay? Not everyone likes to party at five a.m.”
She bounced slightly, her eyes lighting with mischief. “I just can’t wait to see her.”
“You just saw her, remember? She tucked you in,” I said, bringing her covers back up to her chin and urging her to lay down.
“I know, wasn’t it amazing?”
I leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “Yes, it was amazing. And it will be amazing again tomorrow night.”
“She’s the best,” she said, her eyes as wide as her smile. “Maybe she wants to see me before the sun is up!”
I pursed my lips, fighting the laughter that came so easily around my daughter, but only her. “Scarlett McPherson, you leave Bailey alone until morning. Do you understand me?”
Her lower lip extended in the cutest damn pout. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay. I’m going to run for a little bit, so if you need me I’ll be in the gym, okay?”
She nodded and flung herself forward, hugging me tight.
I held her close, savoring the smell of her strawberry shampoo, and the simple joy she emanated. Everything was simple in her world—her daddy loved her and Bailey adored her.
For the first time since she was born, there was a sense of stability in this house, and by God, I was going to keep it that way.
“I love you more than the stars,” she said with a hard squeeze.
“I love you more than the moon.”
“The stars are prettier,” she argued.
“Well, the Earth needs the moon, so I love you more.”
Her face scrunched momentarily before she shrugged. “Okay. But only because you need a win.”
I hugged her again and put her to bed, silently cursing Rory for saying that yesterday when he was here, arguing to let Bailey move in.
I turned off Lettie’s light and shut her door softly behind me.
My watch read 8:15 p.m. I could get in a couple miles and then meet the guys for drinks. Or I could get a couple miles in and maybe chill for the night.
Yeah, the second was probably the more responsible of the choices.
The refrigerator shut as I passed the kitchen, and I turned to see Bailey unloading a bag full of groceries. Her top was perfectly respectable, but the slight dip in her neckline gave me a mouth-watering glimpse of her cleavage.
Don’t look at her like that, you asshat.
“Hey,” I said, instead, as smooth as a fucking seventh-grader.
“Hey,” she answered with a bright smile as I leaned across the island. “So I picked up some more of that Greek yogurt you like, and some stuff for cupcakes tomorrow. I figured I’d bake with Lettie to kind of celebrate our little…” she gestured around her, “arrangement?”
A corner of my mouth lifted in a smile. “Bailey, you’re living with us. There’s nothing illicit going on.”
Pink stained her cheeks and damn if it didn’t make her even more beautiful. Not that Bailey needed the help. She was petite but packed a powerhouse body that had found itself under mine in a few of my more drunken fantasies. And that face? Damn, she was perfection—huge hazel eyes, thick lashes, and olive skin with the most kissable mouth I’d ever laid eyes on.
But that was all I was ever going to lay on her.
“Well, yeah,” she said, pulling her long, dark brown hair into some kind of knot on the top of her head. “It’s just a transition.”
“Hopefully a good one.” It had to be. Lettie adored Bailey, and we’d been friends since we were kids, so it wasn’t like I could afford to piss off Bailey...or our mothers.
“It will be,” she promised. “Besides, I was practically living here anyway. Now I don’t have to drive back to my place in the traffic.”
“Agreed.” Seattle traffic could be a nightmare.
She paused, leaning back against the opposite counter, inadvertently putting those lush curves on display.
Fuck my life. If I didn’t get out of here I was going to sport wood harder than the fucking floor.
“I’m going to go get a couple miles in,” I told her, pushing back from the island.
She reached over and into the fridge, then tossed a bottle of water my direction. “Have a good run. Oh, and I heard Rory and Warren talking today while we were moving in. If you want to grab a couple beers with the guys, I’m totally okay here with Lettie.”
“Thanks. I’ll think about it, but I’m pretty sure I’m just going to turn in.” And get the hell away from you before I lose my nanny to sexual harassment.
“Okay, well the offer always stands. I don’t mind.” She crossed her arms under those perfect breasts. “It’s not like I have a boyfriend or much of a social life outside Jeannine and Paige.”
I opened the water bottle and took a few quick chugs. “Yeah, and your friends are always welcome here. Seriously. This is your house now, too.”
Her smile was small but genuine. “That means a lot.”
I nodded awkwardly. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Later.”
I ran out of there so fast the room may as well have been on fire and headed down to the lowest level of the house until I got to my gym. The floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to a view of Lake Washington, where the sun was in that last moment of setting.
I powered on the treadmill, slipped my earbuds in, turned up the Eminem and hit it. My heartbeat was steady as my feet pounded at the machine beneath me, my breathing even. Maybe I wasn’t that badly out of shape after all.
After taking most of the last season off when I tore the fuck out of my shoulder, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back to the Sharks, but the coach kept me on the roster, and I was still leading for my position if that baby of a rookie didn’t beat me out for it.
Fuck that, it’s mine.
Yeah, six months ago I couldn’t have run at this speed without screaming in agony. Six months ago I’d still been in a sling, still broken as fuck from the way Helen left us.
And then Bailey had walked back into my life, fresh out of her graduate degree at Cornell. It wasn’t fate, I wasn’t fucking stupid. It was our mothers pushing us together, not romantically—they weren’t stupid either—but I needed help, and Bailey needed a job until she figured out what the hell she was going to do with her life...and her double degree in Art and Philosophy.
It had been perfect until I’d seen her again. The girl she’d been while we grew up, while I went to college at U-Dub and she went Ivy...well, she was long gone. It wasn’t like she’d had one of those chick-flick makeovers, no, she’d always been pretty, doe-eyed, and just as beautiful inside than out. But now…
Fuck, now she was a knockout and seemed unaware of it somehow.
And worse, it was like my body had fucking Bailey-radar. She came into a room, I got hard—even when I reminded my body that she was a no-go.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like sex.
Fuck, I loved sex.
I adored women.
I fucked a lot of women.
Then they left.
The first woman I’d ever loved had left while I begged her to stay…
Now they left because I told them to...Let’s be fair, it’s not like they didn’t know that was part of the package while I was dropping their panties.
I said I fucked women...I didn’t fuck over women.
There was a difference.
Of course, they were all blonde lately. Anyone blonde or red-haired, but never brunettes. Never anyone I could accidentally mistake for Bailey.
I was never going there, and it didn’t matter how badly my dick begged otherwise.
If she wasn’t off limits because we’d grown up together—our mothers were best friends—she was definitely unfuckable because at the heart of everything, she belonged to Lettie.
And I didn’t steal anything from my daughter.
Hell no, she deserved the world, and that was exactly what I was going to give her.
At mile number three, I ripped off my shirt, wiping the sweat off my forehead before tossing it and hitting two more miles. Nothing like a little run to get out some sexual frustration.
It would pass. I’d get used to having Bailey here. She’d become like a sister, and all these sexual urges would fade. It wasn’t like she had them. Fuck, then we’d both be in trouble.
But it was just horny-as-hell me, lusting after the girl I’d never had, and I wasn’t a little boy anymore. I was a full-grown man, a forward for the Seattle Sharks NHL team, and the best damned grinder in the league. More importantly, I was Lettie’s dad, and since her mother had about as much maternal instinct as a fucking rock, I was all Scarlett had.
I had to be enough.
Better than enough.
I had to be everything.
Mile six sounded, and I lowered the speed of the treadmill, rolling my shoulders and stretching out my muscles before I headed up to the shower.
That was exactly what I needed. I congratulated myself for running out my baser needs instead of jumping my nanny as I walked up the stairs. Look at me, all civilized and shit.
Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3) Page 20
