by Piper Rayne
“Huh. Well, if that’s the case, what does she do to you when she catches you, uh eye-you-know-whatting one of her friends?”
Royce busted out laughing. Everyone in the box turned around, including Amber.
“What’s so funny?” Reese leaned forward but didn’t take her gaze off her husband in the outfield.
“Nothing. Royce and I were, it’s just…,” Grant’s word faded as he sent Royce an imploring look.
“Don’t look at me, man. You’re the one who PG-13 a perfectly good word most eight year old’s know the meaning of.” Royce’s gaze remained on Amber even after she turned her attention back to the field.
“Well, shit.” Grant rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled a reason for Royce’s laughter; something lame about the opposing team’s mascot.
“Smooth, Conrad. You have skills. That how you got Sophie to let you touch her?”
Uh. Oh. Royce had poked the bear. A big bear of a man who, in spite of no longer being a professional athlete, Grant Conrad could still outrun most members of the Outlaw’s roster. So, yeah, not a good comeback to trash talk a guys wife.
“You just remember who has a woman in his bed every night and who doesn’t.” Grant punched Royce’s arm and finished off his drink.
He took a few seconds to contemplate whether he should continue on the wrong turn he’d taken. Grant wasn’t someone you wanted to make an enemy. He was a great guy but didn’t suffer fools—ever.
“I’m sorry.” Royce knew when to cut his losses. Something he wished he could do while on duty. The hours and the increasing decline in civility in the country had definitely begun to rear its ugly head in their area. Plus, he’d heard that Grant and TS were looking to upgrade their security protocol for not just the stadium but for the players when they were on road trips.
If that were the case, they’d need experienced personnel who could be counted on in tense situations. He’d been thinking about making a change shortly after he arrived in Pineville. He’d returned home thinking the change in location, in a less crime-ridden area would reignite his dissatisfaction with police work. He’d been wrong. It hadn’t been Dallas; it was the job. He was burned out and needed a change and a new challenge.
Royce cleared his throat, took a sip of his beer, and with his focus on the visiting team’s batter, asked Grant what had been on his mind. “Are the rumors true? During the offseason you and TS plan on revamping the stadium’s security set-up?”
Grant remained silent as the fourth hitter in the line-up sent a pop fly to right field. That made three outs and had the Outlaw players hustling off the field.
“So, you like baseball, Royce? Because you know this is the final game in the championship series, and your attention seems to be everywhere except where twenty-three thousand fans are.”
“Sure. I like the people who play baseball. But it’s too slow of a game for me. I find myself watching the fans watching the game much more interesting.”
Grant chuckled. “Fans or maybe just one in particular?”
To answer that question would expand the circle of people who knew he had it bad for Amber and get back to Sophie, who may or may not become inclined to play matchmaker.
“My radar for trouble is on twenty-four seven. I’ve tried, believe me, tried to turn it off, or at least mute it. Guess I’m just one of those unlucky guys who’s always connected to his surroundings, you know?”
Grant had locked his gaze onto him and continued, his stare unreadable. “Royce, you’re a rare man. I’m sure plenty of first responders carry some level of heightened awareness for trouble when their off-duty, but I’ve noticed that you take it to a whole other level. It has to be mentally draining. Maybe you need a hobby? Besides chasing women, that is.”
Royce shifted in his seat. He looked from Grant’s grinning face to Connor, who had stepped up to the plate. His eyes flicked to the scoreboard. Tied at three, the Outlaw’s celebrated hitter raised a hand before taking a practice swing. The crowd roared, catcalls rang out, and his best friend settled into his stance. The crack of the bat rang out, followed by seconds of silence as thousands collectively watched the ball fly high into the lights.
Connor tossed his bat and headed for first. As the ball descended, a dull roar grew as the reality of the moment began to sink. Fans in the cheap seats located along the right-field foul line raised their hands, some bare, some with treasured gloves. It remained fair, and as if written in a movie script, a young man wearing Connor’s jersey grabbed the homerun ball and clutched it to his chest as those around him piled on him in celebration.
The stadium went wild. His friends and sister cheered and cried. On their feet, Grant slapped him on the back before bolting over his seat and hunted down the other owner, TS, and lifted him in a bear hug. The Outlaws had done what no one thought possible, win a USBL championship less than three years after joining the league.
“Royce, he did it; they all did!” Reese launched herself into his arms. He swung his sister around; her joy and love radiated from her tear-stained face. He hugged her tight. His gaze landed on her friends, the women who had married other members of the team. Kelsey has saved Maverick the pitcher; Lara had caught Luke, the catcher, and Noel, who’d been chased by the team’s owner, ended up taming him as well.
Off to the side was Caris, who’d married the team’s manager, Blake, adopted the adorable Valeria who was currently bouncing on her mama’s hip and clapping her chubby hands. The woman who’d he been attempting to ignore moved closer to Caris, who was her boss and held out her arms for the toddler. The little girl’s face erupted into a wide smile and turned into Amber’s arms as she giggled and grabbed a handful of Amber’s long curly hair. Caris, now free to hug the rest of the group, took her friend and the little girl into a quick embrace. The crowd continued to roar, and the players were sprawled on the field as they celebrated.
His gaze refused to leave Amber as she and Valeria bumped noses, which he thought were called butterfly kisses. The look on her face as she interacted with the child created a pull in his gut. Unfamiliar with the sensation, he then rubbed his chest. Damn.
“I’m working on a party at The Club. You’re invited. As a guest. You’re not to work the door, got it?”
He looked into his sister's face; a mixture of excitement with a touch of bossiness met his gaze. He nodded and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Text me with the details. I’ll make sure I’m off duty.”
He needed to get out of there. The feelings Amber was creating had to be extinguished. He’d spent enough time around the domestic bliss outbreak this year. He’d attend the Outlaw’s celebration, and then he’d go back to his usual routine.
Amber Wyatt was a temptation he didn’t think he could avoid much longer.
5
“Hey, Royce. My man. What are you doing back in Pineville? It’s good to see you.”
Royce looked over his shoulder at the sound of his name, all the while remaining on alert to his surroundings. Tonight, he was on unofficial bouncer duty at his sister’s nightclub, whether she liked it or not. His superiors weren’t thrilled with his off-duty moonlighting, but he wasn’t breaking any rules, and if ever there was a night his twin sister needed him—it was tonight.
The last thing he needed or wanted was a trip down memory lane.
He shifted his gaze back to the bar and swore. Much to his irritation, his gaze had been glued to a pair of legs attached to the untouchable Amber. He’d been battling the urge all evening to warn away every guy who dared to approach the one woman he himself wanted yet forced himself to stay away from.
Untouchable. By his own decree. It was driving him nuts to see men, not unlike him, drawn to her with similar, if not the exact intent as him.
The Club and attached restaurant was the most popular nightspot in Pineville, and Reese had outdone herself by organizing the private party for the Idaho Outlaws celebration. She’d managed to have printed invitations sent out within twenty-fours of the game, a
nd no one got in without one.
The guy who’d shouted his name walked unsteadily over to him with the distinct gait of someone already deep into the bottle. Hell, he knew the face but couldn’t remember the name. Shit. The guy had bad news flashing in neon over his head. What was the guy’s name; Ted, Tanner, something with a T?
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice to ignore anyone tonight. However, everyone at the closed-door event had to have some type of connection to the Outlaw organization, that didn’t guarantee zero problems. How had this guy been invited?
Royce always anticipated the unexpected. It was in his job description. He’d make sure no one would ruin the evening for the Outlaws’ baseball team or his sister.
“Hey, back.” Royce nodded but continued to scan the growing crowd. Reese had already scolded him once for staring down another partygoer till the guy almost tripped. Well, too bad. He never turned off his inner radar for trouble. Unless he was horizontal, or hell more likely holding a woman up against a wall while they both reached a happy ending. And even then, it was less than an hour in off-line mode.
Ten years on the force between Dallas and Pineville had ingrained habits in him that were hard to break, even off duty.
“You been hitting the gym, man, you’re ripped.”
Drunk-guy was now slurring his words. Awesome. Royce controlled the urge to roll his eyes. Most of the people in his circle growing up weren’t in his circle now, and he liked it that way.
Plus, the last thing he wanted was to reminisce about the stupid crap he and his friends had done back in the day. What he wanted was sitting by herself at the bar in a dress that ignited a constant itch to caress every curve the thin material hugged.
He’d already had to count to twenty—twice whenever he caught a glimpse of Amber’s legs. She was maybe a few inches shorter than his own six-one, and he loved a tall woman with curves. Damn, if she didn’t have legs for days. Legs he wanted wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her.
The last few months had been the longest he’d gone without taking a woman to bed since his early twenties, but he couldn’t deny that she was the only one who managed to get him hard lately simply by being in the same room. And that was why he’d promised himself he was taking a break from this friend group. He no longer trusted himself when it came to her.
And if Reese found out he was thinking about bedding Amber, she’d start lecturing him again about his tomcat ways. Or, her favorite lecture, “Isn’t it time you picked one woman and worked on a real relationship?”
Yeah, his sister was undoubtedly aware of his love-em-and-leave-em history, but she didn’t know everything. Thankfully, they didn’t have any weird twin connection where they could read each other’s thoughts or whatever. Because Royce’s needs weren’t for every woman. However, he was happy to accommodate the ones who were as hungry as he for intense sex without any strings. And he was more than happy to play out their cop fantasy for a night. But that’s as long as he stuck around.
Amber didn’t give off that vibe, but it didn’t stop him from thinking how he could separate her from her clothes whenever he saw her. But tonight, she was a damn distraction he didn’t need. Yet that didn’t keep him from looking—looking never hurt.
Thinking of her again had him gazing in her direction. Dammit, he was setting himself up for disappointment and a shitload of frustration. Nothing would happen between them, as long as he stayed away. Just as he was going to turn back to Tyson, who hadn’t stopped his yammering, Royce caught Amber gaze in his direction. Not just in his direction but at him point-blank. Pent up sexual desire punched him square in the chest.
Her gaze was full of all the things he’d wanted to do to her, and he almost forgot to breathe. She didn’t turn away. She held his gaze. Her directness threw him off. He’d pegged her for a “good girl” but never expected she’d be the pursuer.
Why was he hesitating? He always went after what and who he wanted. Always had. But this time felt—different. Could it be that he’d been thinking of her as off-limits for so long that he’d never considered she might want the same?
Damn if she wasn’t sending him an invitation. She looked down at her drink, then back up at him and smiled again before she turned away. That was an unmistakable signal from a woman; she wanted him, and he was letting her connection to his sister play with his head. Well, screw that.
Sure, they’d only had a few short interactions, and he’d always behaved since his sister was typically around. But she wasn’t now. What was the harm in a little verbal foreplay? It would tell him once and for all if he should shut down his thoughts about her or offer her a night. A night they’d both walk away from satisfied; his curiosity and need for her put to rest. Then maybe he could get back to his normal routine.
His gaze still on her, Amber looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with him as if daring him. Well now, he never backed down from a dare.
Unaware he’d taken a step toward her, the man he’d quickly forgotten about blocked him.
“Royce? Hey man, there are a ton of sweet things here for the taking. You pick one out yet?”
Reason number one he hadn’t looked up old friends stood next to him. Tyson. Yes, thank god, that was it, Tyson Brown. That was drunk-guy’s name. Memories flooded him, and he remembered exactly who the d-bag was. In high school, Tyson often took before given permission by girls who’d had too much to drink. Royce may have walked that line once, but he’d wised up. A willing woman was much more satisfying.
Unimpressed, Royce watched as Tyson puffed out his puny chest and scanned the crowd.
“So, what’s your gig now? You seem a bit more, what’s the word am I looking for? You’re not as… I don’t know, relaxed or whatever. You were always looking for a good time when we ruled the streets. Man, what happened to you?”
He looked back in Amber’s direction and noticed several of the rookie players had walked over to her. A shot of something he didn’t recognize landed in his gut. He didn’t like it, nor what the feeling likely represented.
He wasn’t a jealous guy, so he took the unfamiliar anger of seeing other guys hit on Amber and turned and dumped it all over Tyson. Royce felt just mean enough to yank the jerk’s chain with a healthy dose of truth.
“I left Pineville and grew up for starters. I’m past the sweet young thing phase, and you should be too. Hell, you plan on partying forever? And as far as my “gig,” I joined the police force in Dallas, worked my way up, and landed in SWAT here in Pineville. So, keep it in your pants and go easy on the whiskey. That used to be your thing, right?” Royce flexed his fingers and took in a breath. He didn’t want a fight; just needed to let out a little steam.
“Damn. You used to always be up for a party, and any girl you could separate from her panties. You changed, man.” Tyson drained his glass and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
Yeah, his high school friends were full of class. He hoped Tyson behaved. The last thing he wanted to do was haul his ass in.
“Well, you have fun bouncing or whatever it is your sister’s paying you to do. I’m headed for some prime tail. See ya.”
Royce slammed his arm up and pressed it into Tyson’s chest. He locked eyes with the drunk, “Like I said, keep it in your pants, and we’ll be good. You got it?”
Tyson’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and a sheen of sweat appeared on his hawkish face. Royce kept him locked in place. Training kicked in, it always did, and he softened his voice even though he wanted to growl. “You keep it nice and polite. This is not the night and definitely not the place to cause trouble. You understand?”
Licking his lips, Tyson scanned the crowd behind Royce’s back.
“No backup, Tyson?” Royce asked.
Tyson visibly shook. “Yah…uh, I mean no. The guy who got in me in already left with a girl. I’m by myself. Look, I was just teasing, ya know. Don’t worry, man. I’m good.”
Royce let a good thirty seconds pass before he dropp
ed his arm. He caught the distinction between Tyson saying, ‘I’m good’ and ‘I’ll be good.’
Shit. It was going to be a long night.
“Hi, Amber. So glad you could make it.” Reese joined her at the bar.
Amber set her drink down and hugged the woman who’d she’d become closer to over the last year. She cherished their friendship but secretly wished Reese’s brother had an overbite and was a straight up jerk. It would make her decision to be at the party tonight, dressed up for one reason only—to catch Royce’s eye among other body parts.
She took a small sip of her favorite drink, “Hi, yourself and thanks. Caris made sure I knew I was invited. Actually, I think she has ulterior motives. She’s been bugging me to go out since I dumped the last guy I dated.”
Amber had a habit of talking too much when she was nervous. She looked around to see if Royce was still looking at her. Disappointment hit her when she couldn’t find him.
“Aw, Caris means well. And I get it. Happy friends always want everyone else to experience the happiness they have. And it seems you’re it now that all of us have a special guy. Don’t worry; I’ll do my best to wave off any men who don’t live up to our standards, K?” Reese scanned the crowd, then lifted her hand and waved.
“Hey, speaking of men, my man is signaling me. If you see someone you want an intro to you, find me. I know everyone.”
Amber watched Reese rush over to her boyfriend, Connor, wrap her arms around his neck. Their kiss was hot and long, and he grabbed her ass for everyone to see. Amber wanted that. She wanted hot and hard and everything she never got from her last ex or anyone she’d dated.
And for that, she wanted Royce Kincaid. Hot cop and decorated member of the local SWAT, he was the only one she wanted to give her the hot and hard part. He had a reputation for his prowess in bed. He also had the reputation of one night and done, or so it was rumored. But she didn’t want the rumor—she wanted the man.
