Play Hard: Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Abbi Hemp

  “I love her,” I said, regretting it as soon as the words came from my mouth.

  He didn’t say anything at first, which made me feel even worse.

  “I see,” he muttered finally.

  I glanced over at him.

  “Do you approve?”

  He turned to face me. Our eyes met. I studied his wrinkled face for any emotion. Gradually, a smile spread across his face.

  “I think you would be good for her.”

  Relief washed through my body. With his blessing, I might have a chance.

  “What are you two doing out here?” Heidi asked from behind us.

  I flinched, almost falling out of the lawn chair.

  “Hey,” I said as I stood up. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “He’s here to check on the plants and me,” her father said.

  He stared up at her from his lawn chair.

  “How are you?” I asked, stoned out of my mind.

  “I’m fine. I need to talk with my father.”

  “I should get going.”

  “Don’t be rude, Heidi,” her father said.

  She shot him a dirty look then turned back to me.

  “Why do you always have to be so angry?” I asked.

  “You’re stoned, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. So? It’s legal.”

  “Is that all you do?”

  “I’m leaving,” I said, not wanting to get into it with her.

  I turned to her father and offered my hand.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Yeah,” he said, shaking it. “We’ll talk more soon.”

  He winked at me. I turned to Heidi.

  “Call me later,” I said.

  “Maybe. I’m really busy with work,” she said then sat down next to her father.

  “No biggie. Me too.”

  I nodded my head at her then walked out front. Keifer started up the SUV as soon as I got in the backseat.

  “Where to, boss?”

  “Take me home,” I said. “Thanks.”

  As he drove down the driveway, I wondered why Heidi was still acting so weird around me. Maybe she was playing me for a sucker? Most women I understood, but she was different. That’s what attracted me to her the most. On the way home, I pushed her out of my mind and concentrated on work.

  The Cannabis Cup finals were coming up, and I had to make sure everything was ready after we won. Orders would skyrocket overnight for the new Super Weed, and I wanted to be as prepared as possible. My love for Heidi had to wait, so her playing hard to get might actually help me.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Heidi

  Internal Pressure

  After catching him talking to Dad, I decided to distance myself from Brent Stone again, determined to get the case on him closed. At that point, our relationship wouldn’t come with as many strings attached. He might be the one, but I didn’t want to waste more time with a man committing crimes.

  My office phone rang. I glanced over and saw John’s name.

  “Hey, John,” I said after answering. “What’s up?”

  “I have another hit for that Stone guy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure as sushi not agreeing with my stomach.”

  “Can you send an encrypted audio file to my phone again?”

  “I already sent it, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. You know, the old fashioned way.”

  “Appreciate it, John. I haven’t forgotten your beer. You’re a Bud guy, right?”

  “Miller Lite, actually.”

  “They’re all the same to me. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bye, Heidi.”

  After I hung up the office phone, I picked up my cell and logged into the private file storage area the DEA made available to all agents. I glanced to the left then right. Not seeing anyone nearby, I tapped the file John had sent me.

  On the recording, I heard Brent talking with the same unknown man from the cartel. Unlike the other time, he said he would think about working with them. What the hell? Is he just playing me? The conversation ended quickly.

  I played it again, listening for any hints as to whether or not Brent was actually thinking about working with them. Should I confront him? Why did I sleep with him? Questions assaulted my mind as I played the recording a third time.

  Before it finished, my office phone rang again. I saw Keller’s name on the LED display. Crap. What does he want? Should I tell him Brent might be guilty after all? I picked up the receiver and put it to my ear.

  “I need to see you,” Keller said simply then hung up.

  “Yes, sir,” I said sarcastically as I set the receiver down.

  I stood up and made my way to his office. The whole way, I fought with myself about what I was going to tell him. My growing love for Brent made me see the world differently.

  After knocking twice, I opened his office door and walked in.

  “You wanted to see me?” I asked.

  “Come in and have a seat.”

  He didn’t look up from papers he had on the top of his desk. I went over and sat down on one of two armchairs. Finally, he looked up at me with a blank expression on his face.

  “What’s the status on Brent Stone?”

  “Still looking,” I said, deciding at the last moment not to tell him everything. “I have a new lead I’m chasing down, though.”

  “If you’re not up to the job…”

  “I got this,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m just making sure I do everything by the books. We don’t want him getting off at the last minute due to a technicality. I mean, if he’s guilty.”

  “You still don’t think he is?”

  “I don’t think so, but like I said, I have a new lead I’m chasing down.”

  “You need to get moving on this. You’re taking too long.”

  “Do you want me to make something up?”

  “I want you to do what needs to be done. If you can’t, I don’t want you working for me. Understood?”

  It took everything I had to fight showing any shock on my face.

  Why is Keller going after Brent so hard? Does he really want me to frame him?

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “That’s all,” he growled then added, “For now.”

  I stood up and spun around.

  “And make it quick,” he said as I walked to the door.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Heidi

  Some Good News

  After finding out Brent might be guilty and getting chewed out by my boss, I headed to Dad’s house to check in on him. Cancer terrified me. He’d been going to all his appointments, but I still got nervous, not wanting to lose him, not for a long time.

  I parked in my usual spot then walked toward the front porch. The setting sun cast crazy shadows on the porch thanks to the wooden railing surrounding it. At the front door, I knocked twice before opening the door. I’d caught him kissing a lady friend one night and never wanted to repeat the experience.

  “Dad? You in here?” I called out as I walked into the living room.

  “In here.”

  In the kitchen, I saw him standing next to the counter chopping a carrot.

  “You making stew?”

  “I am. You’re early by a few days. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “It’s been a rough day,” I said, taking a seat at the table. “How are you?”

  He flashed me a smile.

  “The cancer is gone.”

  “Seriously? That’s great.”

  I stood up and walked over to him. He hugged me tightly.

  “That was so quick.”

  “When you have someone paying big money, they take care of you with all the latest treatments and procedures.”

  “Brent paid for it, didn’t he?”

  “Let’s not talk about money, okay? I can make you a sandwich. Are you hungry?”

  “I�
�m fine,” I said.

  “Okay, what’s wrong? You never pass up one of my submarine sandwiches.”

  I smiled, not wanting to talk with him about Brent.

  “It’s just work.”

  “And Brent? What about him? Have you told him the truth yet?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  He frowned and shook his head, shaming me.

  “I will, but I think he might be working with the cartels.”

  “Do you really think he would work with them? I’ve only talked to him a few times, but he doesn’t seem like that type of person.”

  “I don’t think so either, but my boss at work is pressuring me to find something. Maybe they know something I don’t know yet.”

  “I told you never to trust the DEA. You had to have that job to make me mad.”

  “I didn’t take the job to make you mad, Dad. I did it for me. Why can’t you understand that?”

  I stood up, ready to leave.

  “Calm down. I’m just saying I don’t trust them. You know I support you one hundred percent no matter what.”

  “I know, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It’s Brent.”

  “What about him?”

  “I think I have feelings for him.”

  He stared at me, his mothering side suddenly coming back.

  “He’s a good man.”

  “I know. At least I think I know. I’m not sure any more.”

  “You need to follow your heart,” he said.

  “Thanks, Dad. I should go. I’m so happy you caught the cancer early.”

  Never too old to hug my father, I stepped over and put my hands around him.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he said, patting my back with his hand.

  He always made me feel better. As I drove home that night, I thought about Brent and what to do with the new information. Should I confront him? Or dig into it more before saying anything?

  Before I got to my house, my phone rang. I saw his name and face and picked it up.

  “Hey, Brent. I was just thinking about you.”

  “Good things, I hope.”

  “Mostly good. What’s up?”

  “I need to see you,” he said.

  “Yeah, we should talk. I’ll send you the address to my house.”

  “I’ve been to your apartment before.”

  “No. I said my house. It’s different. I’ll explain when you get here. I have to go. Bye.”

  I ended the call before he had a chance to ask me any questions. After pulling over to the side of the road, I sent him a text message with my actual address. He deserved to know the truth.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Brent

  Fighting Words

  I pulled up to a two-story brick home in a nice neighborhood north of the city and parked in the blacktop driveway. Before getting out, I stared at the house, wondering if it was just another lie from her.

  Unable to wait any longer, she would tell me the truth or not be part of my life at all. I opened the door and got out. At the porch, I knocked on her ornate screen door.

  She’s doing well for herself, I thought as the door opened.

  When I saw her beautiful face, I almost decided to not confront her.

  “Hey,” she said. “Come in.”

  She stepped aside, and I walked into a small foyer. A wooden table with a print copy of the local newspaper and a bowl with keys and change sat to the left.

  “I need to ask you something,” I said.

  “Let’s sit down and have a drink. I need to ask you something too.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Red wine okay? It’s all I have.”

  “That’s fine.”

  I followed her into an expansive open-kitchen. She stopped at a marble topped island and opened a bottle of wine. As I sat down on one of the bar stools, she poured us each a glass.

  “Thanks,” I said as I picked one of them up.

  She lifted her glass into the air.

  “To honesty.”

  “To the truth.”

  After we clinked the glasses together, she took a drink then sat down next to me. I swiveled so we were both facing each other.

  “I like you a lot,” I said, setting the glass down. “But I’ve found out you’ve been lying to me.”

  She tilted her head to the side.

  “About what?”

  “This house for one,” I said, glancing around.

  A frown slid onto her face, but she still looked beautiful.

  “I work for the DEA.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.”

  “You’ve known? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I wanted to see if you came clean,” I said.

  She took another drink of wine.

  “I mean, it’s not a big deal. I’m not doing anything illegal.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have a wire on a cartel member, and you’ve been talking with them. You just told them you would think about their offer for money and business.”

  I shook my head, pure anger coursing through my veins.

  “You’re listening to my private conversations?”

  “We have a wire on the cartel, so yeah, if you’re talking to them, we’re going to be listening.”

  “Fuck this shit,” I said, standing up.

  “Don’t leave. Let’s talk.”

  “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

  I headed toward the front door.

  “Wait…”

  She stood and came after me. I didn’t say anything as I walked, furious she’d been spying on me despite the fact I’d been looking into her. If we weren’t able to communicate honestly, our relationship would never last. Better to leave her now.

  “Fine,” she called out after I made it outside.

  I heard the front door of her house slam as I got in my Maserati, wishing I’d had Keifer drive so I could smoke one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The word repeated itself a few more times in my mind. I pressed a button to start the car then put it into gear and backed out of her driveway.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Brent

  Love & Apologies

  Halfway down the block, I slammed on the brakes. What the hell am I doing? Why do I always run? I backed into a driveway and turned around to head back to her house.

  The rage had turned to something else. I made it to her front door and knocked. She answered right away, glaring at me through the screen door.

  “Can I come in? Please?”

  “You talk about me running out all the time, but look what you do.”

  “Please?” I begged.

  She unlocked the door and opened it. I stepped inside and saw a tear on her soft, smooth cheek.

  “Have you been crying?”

  “Yes, I have,” she snapped. “Is that okay? It’s natural.”

  I put my hand on the side of her head and wiped away a tear with my thumb.

  “It’s fine.”

  “I’m just so torn between work, and Dad, and you…”

  She peered into my eyes as if they held the answer to all her problems.

  “I told the cartel I would think about it because I wasn’t sure what to do. They’ve been after me ever since I began making money and they started losing it.”

  “I should have asked you before jumping to conclusions.”

  “And I should have asked you about working for the DEA when I found out. Your damn story still hasn’t been published. Did you even write one?”

  A guilty look swept over her features.

  “No…” she said quietly.

  I smiled and tilted my head, leaning forward to kiss her. She kissed me back, her mouth opening and letting my tongue in to slide against hers. Emotions, which I usually kept at bay, overwhelmed me. I pulled back, staring into her eyes.

  “I love you.”

  The words fel
l from my lips so naturally, like they were meant for her alone.

  “I love you, Brent.”

  We kissed again. Fiercely.

  “Slow down, okay? Let’s go slow.”

  “As slow as you want.”

  She took a step back and took my hand.

  “Come on. I’ll show you my bedroom. It’s not as nice as yours, but…”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said, following her out of the living room and down a hallway.

  I glanced at the art on the wall briefly – paintings of sunsets on the beach – but most of my attention went to her flowing and curly red hair. And that ass.

  She stopped in front of a sliding door.

  “Don’t laugh, okay? It helps me relax.”

  “I promise,” I said, wondering what was on the other side of the door.

  When she opened it and walked in, still holding onto my hand, I saw the source of her concern. Hundreds of Barbie dolls lined shelves throughout the room.

  “You collect dolls?” I asked then corrected myself. “I mean Barbie dolls.”

  “Yeah. I have since I was a little girl. My father bought them for me when my mother died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It happened a long time ago.”

  She let go of my hand and spun around to face her neatly made bed. The red and black comforter on top really stood out. I turned to her and smiled like I was the happiest man in the world.

  “What?” she asked nervously.

  “Nothing. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded and stepped toward her.

  “Yeah. I’m glad we’re being honest with each other now.”

  “Me too,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

  Her red lips stood out against her pale, flawless face. I bent forward and kissed them again. She moaned and put an arm around my waist before pulling back.

  “Can you roll us a joint while I light some candles and get some music going?”

  “I can,” I said with a grin. “You have a personal stash?”