Playing House: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance (The Playboys of Sin Valley Book 1)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Yellow and blue…?

  Oh no!

  What Wyatt is describing is my bra. The one I wore last night. The one that a certain impatient man rid me of when we were making out on the kitchen counter.

  “Uh…um, I…” I hear Jace sputtering, at a loss for words.

  “Stacked a little smaller than your usual girls,” Wyatt quips, and I die a little inside. If Wyatt only knew he was talking about his sister’s tits... “I sure hope you’re not traumatizing Sera by having sex with all your groupies out here in the living room. Do that shit in a hotel or something.”

  Before Jace can dig a deeper hole to bury us both, I burst out of the bedroom. With my purse in one hand and a bath towel in the other, I pretend to be towel-drying my completely dry hair.

  I don’t meet either of the guys’ eyes. I stalk up to Wyatt and snatch my bra from his hands. “This is mine, thank you. You know me. Messy roommate.”

  Wyatt’s hands fly up like I’ve burned him. Serves him right for messing with someone else’s underwear.

  “Off to work. See you later, boys,” I say, headed straight to the door. I stuff the bra into my purse and drop the towel I didn’t need on the floor in the entryway.

  I’m the messy roommate after all.

  As I’m leaving, I catch my brother’s suspicious gaze bouncing between me and Jace who’s still stunned silent.

  I can feel it with every fiber of my being—this is not going to end well…

  Thirty-Nine

  Sera

  We got slammed with three new real estate files the minute I hustled into the office. I even skipped lunch to finish up a data collection project that’s due tomorrow. My stomach is growling as I crunch into an apple while still in front of my computer.

  I glance at my phone and the urge to check in on Jace is too strong to resist. I want to see how his day is going, especially after the way I ran out of there this morning, leaving him at his apartment with Wyatt. I just hope my brother isn’t over there grilling Jace about what exactly we were doing when he knocked on the door.

  After bra-gate, it’s crystal clear that Jace is right. We need to come clean to Wyatt as soon as possible, just handle this like adults.

  I pick up my phone and, as if I didn’t already have enough reasons for a panic attack, there’s a new text message from Rocky waiting for me. He’s asking to meet with me to talk since he’s in town to play against the Paragons tonight.

  No. Just no.

  I ignore the message from my ex and pull up Jace’s name in my contacts. I hit the ‘dial’ button and my man answers on the second ring.

  “Hey.” I say when his handsome face pops up on the screen.

  “Hey,” he responds, his voice curt and tight. He looks tense. Pissed.

  He’s moving down a wide hallway. Judging by the bright overhead lights and the team banners hanging on the walls, it seems like he’s at the Paragons training facility getting ready for tonight’s game, his first game since his ankle injury.

  “How were things with Wyatt after I left?” I dare to ask.

  He scrubs a hand down his face and sighs. “Awkward. Tense. He’s not stupid. He knows something’s going on.”

  I feel a pang in my belly. “I…I’m sorry.” Guilt weighs me down like a cape of lead. “I should have handled that better. And I should have listened when you said we needed to come clean to him sooner.”

  Jace stops walking, his expression softening. “Look, babe—I don’t want you taking on all the blame for this. I guess that we’ve both been unconsciously avoiding the whole Wyatt conversation. Delaying the unnecessary drama.” He pulls in a breath. “But we have to do it now. We need to tell him what’s going on. We can’t put it off anymore, okay? Or else, it’ll just blow up in our faces.”

  “You’re right,” I concede. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  Jace smiles slightly. “Can you call up a nice restaurant and make us a reservation? We can tell him tonight. After the game.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I smirk. “We’ll get him liquored up and stuff his belly with good food…then we’ll tell him.”

  His throat bobs when he chortles heartily. “You’re devious. I fucking love…” My heart hitches as his voice trails off, leaving his half-uttered confession in the air.

  I love him, too.

  I’m aching to hear the words just as badly as I’m aching to say them to him. But this is not how I want this to happen. The first time that I tell him I love him, I want to be in his arms, looking into his eyes. I don’t want a telephone screen between us.

  Barely able to restrain the happiness bubbling up inside me, I nod. “I’ll get us a dinner reservation,” I say softly. “We’ll tell him tonight.”

  Jace relaxes visibly. “Thank you, Baby Girl.” His smile grows a little. “I’ll see you at my game later?”

  My stomach ties up a little when I remember that the Paragons are playing against L.A. tonight—secretly, my worst nightmare—but I smile anyway. I can get through that. No biggie. “Yeah, I’ll see you at your game.”

  When we end the call, my heart is still in my throat. Am I nervous about facing Wyatt? Yes, but will it be worth it? Hell fucking yes.

  Because Jason Bellino is worth it.

  He has cared for me like no other man has. He has cherished me. He has had my back. He has been everything I’ve ever wanted in a husband. And I know that our relationship started in the most unconventional way. But so what?

  I’m in love with this man.

  My heart contains more love for him than I know what to do with. My body wants to give him things I’m not even sure I’m capable of. All I know is I want to give him all of me and have all of him in return. I don’t want anything standing in the way of that.

  I’m done. I am so done waiting for permission to be myself, to have the life I want, to love the man I love.

  I turn back to my work with a big smile on my face. I’m so caught up in my thoughts that when a shadow appears over me, I squeak and nearly jump out of my skin.

  “Sorry to startle you,” Desiree says when I look up. “You okay?”

  I laugh embarrassedly. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, my head is…elsewhere.”

  “My head would be ‘elsewhere’ too if I had a hot piece of man meat like yours waiting on me at home.” Her eyes twinkle mirthfully even as she stifles down a yawn.

  Desiree’s such an amazing woman. A mom with a busy career and a big heart. She deserves a good man. I want to blurt out that my brother’s out of the military and I think the two of them should hook up and get married and have half a dozen beautiful babies so Wyatt will be too busy being happy to kill me and Jace for hooking up behind his back. But I know this isn’t the place to bring that up.

  I take a huge bite out of my fruit to keep my mouth busy. “Late lunch break,” I say instead, wiggling my sad little apple in the air between us.

  “Lord, I need one of those. The break. Not the apple.” Her shoulders slump. That’s when I notice Desiree’s tired eyes. She looks beat. She smiles anyway. “I was coming to see if you’d be interested in joining me and Liam for a client teleconference real quick? It’s the one you prepped for a couple days ago.” She holds up a blue file I recognize.

  “With the Wild Garden restaurant group?”

  “That’s the one.”

  I chew down my smile. “Are you sure?” That’s a huge client. I’m not sure Liam would want me on that call.

  “I’m very sure, Sera.” She briefly closes her eyes and smooths her fingertips across her forehead. “Honestly, it’d be a big help to me. I was up half the night with Tristan. He had a fever, and it didn’t break until it was time for me to crawl into the shower this morning.”

  “Oh no. Poor baby.” My heart aches for Desiree and her little boy. He’s only four, and I just don’t know how she manages this stressful career on top of being a single mother. To be honest, I’m not sure if I could handle it all.

  “He’s better already. The
kid is a little warrior.” She smiles wistfully. “I’m just not feeling on my A game, you know. It’d feel good to have your support in there.”

  “Of course.” I follow Desiree into the conference room on the floor above ours.

  In the room, there’s just Liam and this guy I don’t recognize. Liam introduces him as his new personal assistant, Ross. Desiree and I introduce ourselves to Ross and take seats around the table.

  As Liam and his new assistant run through the file one last time, I lean close to Desiree and whisper. “Where’s Eliza?”

  Desiree shrugs. “I heard she got fired.”

  “What? Why?” I whisper back.

  Desiree sort of rolls her eyes. “Girl, Liam’s assistant’s never stick around long. You know that. I’m just surprised Eliza lasted as long as she did.”

  In the center of the oblong table, there’s a space-ship looking speaker system.

  “Sera’s going to join us today, if that’s okay,” Desiree tells Liam when his scrutinizing eyes fall on me. He looks like he might object to that idea, but Desiree continues on. “She’ll just listen in.”

  “Sure.” Liam presses his lips together like it doesn’t matter one way or another. “Just ensure that everyone’s quiet. I plan to leave the mic unmuted throughout.”

  I have to fight to resist rolling my eyes. Like he thinks I can’t conduct myself professionally. “Of course,” I say pleasantly, lowering into an office chair next to Desiree, as we huddle around the conference speaker.

  Liam’s been less prickly since I saved the Truce Avenue condo project from being delayed. But he still rarely ever talks to me directly. He’s nice enough; he probably just thinks he has to be because he’s friends with my brother and Jace. But sometimes, it’s like speaking directly to a junior exec is beneath him. As though he doesn’t have that kind of time in his busy day.

  Liam dials into the conference line and gets things under way. Wild Garden Inc. is a huge up-and-coming restaurant parent company with fine dining chains in major metropolitan areas around the country. New York City. San Diego. Miami. And now they’re planning to bring one of their hottest restaurants to the Sin Valley area. If we can close this deal, it will be huge for the district’s economy and for our company.

  I take diligent notes from the very start, dictating the client’s portion of the meeting almost word for word. But about half way through, the meeting takes a weird turn. I pick up on the change in tone right away, but a quick glance at Desiree reveals nothing out of place. Maybe it’s just me.

  “We have great respect for your team, so we want to be completely transparent with you,” the client is saying, his voice crackling through the speaker system. “We’re highly concerned about overall visibility, being a full block away from the Sin Valley Strip. Do you have any similar and available properties that are directly on the Strip? We’re not sure about making a commitment to something that feels like a ragtag shortcut, Liam.”

  The client’s words are a splash of cool water on the whole conference room. Even though I felt it coming, I’d hoped I misread the situation.

  Liam’s jaw tightens. Desiree’s eyes widen. They briefly glance at one another from across the table. Liam doesn’t look happy at all. From what I understood, this was supposed to be an easy, afterthought meeting. More of a hey, let’s get to know everyone better, and get this deal signed. Not a sales pitch to save a potential business partner from jumping ship.

  Next to me, Desiree rifles through her blue file folder, while Liam steps in to do damage control. Liam’s a smooth talker; that’s why he’s so good at what he does. Still, I see the brimstone in his eyes.

  “I can assure you that the neighboring businesses on this block are performing exceedingly well. So well in fact, we’ve been in talks with the city about renaming this street, so it has less of a secondary feel. You’ll be getting in on the ground level, my friend. In a couple years, we project this real estate property lease will be at least thirty-one percent higher than it is today. Desiree, you have the numbers from the competitors, right?”

  Desiree gets this deer-in-the-headlights look as she shifts in her seat next to me. The room is exceptionally quiet. We only hear the occasional static crackling from the center of the table.

  She flips through the folder frantically. “Yes. Yes, I do. One sec,” she says mindlessly into the conference speaker. I can see that she’s just buying time. Time we don’t have if we want to keep this client.

  The silence is awkward-as-hell. I want to tell her exactly where to find the data, but our team’s microphone isn’t muted. And if we have any hope of saving this meeting, there just isn’t time for me to point out which page she’ll find the comp and wait while she skims through it all.

  I recall this information well. I read this particular document over and over while photocopying it about a dozen times a few weeks ago. Still I hesitate, not wanting to step on my supervisor’s toes. Desiree had a hell of a night, and I don’t want to put a harsh spotlight on the fact that she’s a bit underprepared at the moment.

  But then Jace’s words from his little pep talk come to the forefront.

  Strut into the room, that gorgeous head held high, ‘bad bitch energy’ on blast, like you know what you’re all about.

  Your coworkers will have no choice but to take you seriously if that’s the kind of energy you bring to the table.

  I place my hand gently on Desiree’s forearm and clear my throat, sitting up a little taller. “Winters Fine Dining.” I say out loud. Three sets of eyes swing to me. “They will be your most direct competition in Sin Valley, and they’re located two doors down from your potential address. They exceeded sales expectations in the first year by eleven percent and in the second year by twenty-three percent. Winters Group is so satisfied with the location, they’ve signed an eight-year extension.”

  The room remains quiet for a beat. My pulse hammers as I wipe my dewy palms down my slacks. Under the table, Desiree reaches over and squeezes my knee. When I glance in her direction, I find her tired eyes thanking me profusely.

  I give a tiny discrete nod in return.

  “Thank you, Desiree, was it?” The client’s voice rattles through the speaker.

  “Actually, that was another team member. Sera,” Liam corrects, surprising the hell out of me. I half-expected him to gut me for over-sharing or for speaking out of turn but he actually looks…impressed.

  “Sera, do you have off-season numbers handy?” the client asks. “We’re also concerned that in the colder months, that this area just won’t see the same level of traffic.”

  “That’s understandable,” I say, without hesitation. I rattle off Winters’s sales revenue—all publicly-available information, of course—from the past two years, highlighting November through March’s data. “Our data actually suggests that businesses just slightly off the strip surprisingly performed better during those months. The fact that those businesses have closely accessible parking lots—rather than forcing customers to walk along the strip in the cold—seems to play a big role.”

  When I finish addressing his questions, we hear the client talking quietly to whoever is in their conference room. Though we aren’t able to make out the full discussion, the bits we pick up on sound promising.

  “Thank you, Liam and Sera,” the client finally responds, moments later. “This has been helpful. Expect my boss’s signature by day’s end. Can you send me the best fax number?”

  Liam’s assistant rattles that off, and then our boss wraps up the call and falls back into his chair, like a cinderblock just tumbled off his shoulders.

  “Sera,” Liam says as Desiree and I gather up our files. “That was impressive. You may have single-handedly saved that contract. Would you and Desiree be up for drinks? I’d like to bounce some ideas off the two of you to ensure Wild Garden’s launch goes smoothly.”

  “Of course.” I can feel myself grinning wide like a canoe. “Let me just grab my laptop, so I can have the raw data handy
if needed.”

  “Great.” He grabs his notes. He addresses Desiree and me. “You ladies will meet me in the corporate box for tonight’s Paragon’s game.”

  I’m nodding like a giddy idiot.

  Desiree laughs. “We’ll be there,” she says, answering for the both of us.

  Liam’s personal assistant looks me straight in the face and chuckles to himself as he follows Liam out the door.

  Okay, yeah. I’m sure I look really ridiculous with this stupid, overexcited smile I’m wearing.

  But I don’t care. I’m so pumped that not even blatant mockery can bring me down.

  And I have Jace to thank for this. Without his advice, I would have never had the nerve to speak up today.

  My happy bubble doesn’t last long, though. Moments after receiving the golden invitation to Liam’s skybox, I get a violent case of whiplash.

  The Paragons are playing Los Angeles.

  Rocky and Jace. Both on the same field. Tonight.

  My stomach drops.

  It’s like for every stroke of luck I receive, I have to pay my debts in misery.

  Forty

  Jace

  The last time the Paragons went up against the Los Angeles Boomerangs, we pummelled them.

  Tonight will be no different.

  I’m fired up. So is the rest of the team. The Boomerangs have a special place on the Paragons’s collective shitlist, if you will. Mostly, because they’re generally the biggest jackasses in the league.

  But it turns out, I’m not the only guy on my team with a ‘personal’ grievance when it comes to our rivals from L.A.

  The thing is, when Maxwell Masters used to play for the Boomerangs a few years back—for reasons that were absolutely his fault—the team dropped him mid-season and replaced him with Pfeiffer. Ever since that happened, Maxwell has been hellbent on showing out each and every time he squares off against Rocky on the field. The man has been on a mission ever since to prove to Boomerangs management that they made the ultimate mistake letting him go.