by Liv Morris
“Wow, your brother has some place.”
“Wait until you see the pool. It’s obnoxious.”
“Not any more than your bachelor pad in the clouds.”
“True, but you’ll swear you’re at The Ritz.”
“Um, Brady. I’ve never been to that hotel, or any like it. Remember, you and me,” I point a finger between us, “different worlds.”
“Not anymore, baby. My cloud is your cloud.”
“Whatever,” I say, upping the sarcasm, but liking the fact that he’s seeing me as part of his life. It eases the feeling of being an interloper.
I think the hearty breakfast I fixed helped, too. After all, a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
I glance over at him and he smiles. Yeah, I’ve already won over his cock, I wouldn’t mind having his heart. A girl can dream, even though I know fairy tales belong at Disneyland.
Brady walks me through Bryce’s home and it reminds me of his own penthouse—bachelor pad city.
“You two have the same designer?” I follow him deeper into the house, but other than a couple paintings, the place has no color.
“How’d you guess?” Brady asks with a wink.
In the distance, I hear shouting and laughter followed by a large splash of water. We pass through one more opening and enter a huge open room where the outside wall is one big glass window with a view of the pool beyond.
Brady was right. The thing is obnoxious. A wall of large rocks creates a waterfall into the pool and there’s even a swim up bar staffed with a bartender.
“Jeez. It’s ridiculous,” I laugh as he takes my hand and leads me outside.
My stomach flutters and flips as I scan the crowd around the pool. It’s like a beautiful people convention. Shapely blondes, curvy brunettes, and sultry redheads hang on the arms of the men. I recognize many of the guys as fellow Chicago football players. Everyone’s wearing swimsuits, though some of the women’s bikinis look more like scraps of fabric and show off more tits and ass than I expected. I suddenly feel like I have too much covered in my sundress.
“Isn’t your mother coming?” I ask. She’s the reason I chose to wear something conservative and simple—a big mistake, obviously. Instead of blending in, I stick out like a nun at a hooker convention.
“She’s over by the food.” Brady points to a gray-haired woman filling her plate with the spread on the table. “I’ll introduce you to her first, if we can make it that far.”
“Okay,” I say, following behind him around the pool deck.
I hang my head and cower behind Brady when Kevin Reynolds, a football player from Northwestern, approaches us. He plays pro ball for Chicago now and is a friend of Mitchell’s—or was, in college. There’s no way he won’t recognize me since we hung out for over two years while I dated Mitchell.
“Brady, man, how the hell are you?” Kevin claps Brady on the back. “Hitting’s been in the shitter.”
“Thanks for bringing that up,” Brady quips and looks to his side for me, but I’m more behind him now.
“Who you hiding?” Kevin says with a laugh. “Straggler from last night?”
Yep, he’s still the same old jerk he was in college. He and Mitch were two peas in a pod, or two sweaty balls in a jock strap.
“Haven’t you heard?” Brady asks. “Let me introduce you to my fiancée.”
“What the hell?” Kevin yells, laughing hysterically. “How did I miss that? I haven’t recovered from last night’s fuck and whiskey.”
Such a nice mouth he has on him. I can’t wait to shock the shit out of him. Walking out from behind Brady, I keep my head lowered with my hair forming a curtain, then slowly raise it and make eye contact with Kevin. His mouth hits the deck.
“Cali?” he whispers after a few seconds, his brows knitted in confusion. He looks back and forth between Brady and I. His gaze drops to where Brady has his hand protectively covering mine. “She’s your fiancée?”
“How do you know her?” Brady steps in front of me, his tone accusatory, and I have to chuckle. He sure is taking this fake thing to heart.
“She dated Mitch Davis,” Kevin announces. I peer up at Brady and watch his jaw tighten. This is going to be fun.
“So I heard,” Brady spits out. “Sorry excuse for a gifted athlete.”
“Well, Cali sure didn’t think so back in college, and even a time or two last year.” Kevin uses his words like a knife and I flinch.
I want to tell Brady it was only once when I was lonely and weak, but that would confirm what I want to forget. Mitchell must’ve told Kevin, because I’ve told no one—not even Taylor.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Brady steps up and pokes his index finger into Kevin’s chest.
“Getting into a fight already?” says Bryce Luck, Brady’s brother, who walks up by our side to referee.
“I was just telling Brady congratulations on landing Mitchell Davis’ ex-girlfriend for his fiancée.” Kevin gives Brady a mocking smile and I want to slap it off his filthy face.
“His what?” Bryce asks, looking between Brady and me. “I’m confused. Are you Cali?”
“I am. It’s nice to meet you.” I smile at Bryce, then turn to give Kevin the dagger death glare. What a fucking asshole. “I dated Mitchell back in college. Brady knows. It’s in the past.”
“Not sure Mitchell thinks the same,” Kevin claims in a way that implies Mitchell cares, but I know he really doesn’t. “You know you’ll likely be playing the Yanks in the Series, Brady. The former boyfriend versus the current one. Should be fun to watch.”
“Get lost, Kevin.” Bryce throws him a don’t-fuck-with-me look and Kevin starts to laugh.
“You Lucks sure are easy to piss off.” He drains the remaining bit of his beer and tosses the bottle in a nearby trashcan. “Anyway, I need another one.”
“Don’t listen to that fucker,” Bryce says as he holds out his hand to me. “Welcome to the family. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’m a big fan.” Great, Cali, I think, just announce you’re a total fan girl.
“Well, you’ve got season tickets for life if you stick it out and marry my brother.” Bryce searches my face, like he’s trying to assess me. I blink and bite my lip, unnerved under his scrutiny. “You’re way too pretty and smart for him, though. How’d you pull this off, Brady? Did you have to pay her?”
Bryce laughs at his joke, but Brady and I just look at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. Finally, Brady breaks my stare and turns back to Bryce.
“Something like that,” he says, squeezing my hand. It’s a subtle reassurance that we are on the same team, and I appreciate the gesture.
“Brady, is this her?” The woman Brady pointed out as his mother stands by Bryce with the widest smile on her face. Her blue eyes twinkle just like Brady’s.
“Cali, this is my mother, Millie.”
“Oh my, dear. It’s so lovely to meet you. I am super surprised to hear about your engagement, mind you.” She gives Brady a reprimanding look. “But thrilled to learn one of my wayward sons has found someone.”
“It was all very sudden, no doubt,” I say in my and Brady’s defense.
She takes my hands and holds them to the sides. I feel like she’s inspecting me and I want to pass muster. “You’re beautiful and perfect for my Brady. Not like the others wandering around here with no clothes on.”
I give myself a mental high-five for wearing something that covers my assets—even if I feel like I popped out of the fifties.
“So nice to meet you,” I say with a sincere heart, and she gives me a big, mother-type hug.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay for this hedonistic party,” she says, looking around the pool deck at Bryce’s friends. “I have a church meeting, but stopped by to meet you. I have always wanted a daughter—and grandchildren.” What? This is going too far, especially knowing in a few weeks Brady and I will part ways. I look to Brady for help here
, and he shrugs his shoulders, like it was almost expected.
“Mom, we haven’t even set a date.”
“Let a mother dream.” She kisses my cheek and hugs Brady goodbye, making him promise to call her more. In this regard, she and my mother would likely be best friends. “Bryce, will you walk me to my car?”
“Sure, Mom.” Bryce links arms with his mother. “Back in a minute, you two.”
“We will talk soon, Cali,” Millie says.
“Sounds good.” She pats my cheek in a loving way and smiles up at Brady. We watch them walk away and I exhale, hoping the weight on my shoulders lifts. This lying part sure is exhausting and makes me feel like shit.
“Sorry about the grandchildren part,” Brady apologizes after his mother leaves.
“What can we do?” I say with an understanding smile. “My mother will likely tell me the same thing. It’s the fake part that feels wrong to me. She’s too sweet of a woman to lie to.”
“I know. Guess I never thought about all of it. Coach made it sound so simple.” He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “I head out early tomorrow morning to meet up with the team. It’ll be my first game back since suspension.”
“You’ve got this, Brady,” I encourage, because he needs it.
“I’ve been avoiding the media the last week, but I know they’re going to be on me tomorrow.”
“Let’s have fun and forget about it. Want to swim? I brought my suit.” I hold up my large bag with my newly purchased bikini in it. Donna insisted on the one I bought. It shows off my curves nicely she said.
“You did?” Brady shifts on his feet and looks around. “I guess it’s okay, but I have batting practice in a couple hours. Coach will have my ass if I skip it.”
“Where should I change?” I look around for a pool house, but don’t see anything resembling one. I guess the pool bar took priority.
“Inside. Follow me.”
Brady shows me to a restroom off the cavern-sized TV room. I slip into my suit and open the door to leave, only to find Brady leaning against the opposite wall. His mouth drops open when he sees me in my suit.
“You can’t wear that out there.”
“What do you mean?” I glance down at my bikini to make sure all the important parts are hidden—not a nipple slip in sight.
“I don’t want them seeing you in this.” He walks into the bathroom and grabs a big white towel from under the sink. “Wrap yourself in this.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I protest, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes lower to my breasts and go wide. I look down and so much for nipple slips not being in sight. “Oops.” I rush to move the fabric of the top to cover myself.
“Look what you’re doing to me.” He points to the bulge in his pants. “I’m going to need to jack off now, but I don’t want you going outside without me.”
“I’ll wait. It’s not like I haven’t heard you jack off behind a closed door before.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not going to jack off now.” Brady sounds disgusted with himself—or maybe me, for thinking he would.
“You need this more than me then.” I hand him the towel so he can wrap it around his waist, and he does, but it only shows off his issue more. “Maybe I’ll just stand in front of you,” I laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Funny,” he mutters under his breath in a pissed off tone.
“Seriously, those guys better not look at you,” he warns, an edge to his voice.
“What will you do if they glance at my assets? Beat them up?” I laugh at the thought, but he gives me an impassive stare with a jaw so tight, I’m afraid it may snap.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cali
The bottom of the pool is too deep for me to touch, so I cling to Brady for support. His large hands splay across my ass, holding me to him. I grip onto his shoulders for support and wrap my legs around his waist, causing his erection to press into my needy clit. Our position seems fairly innocent since we have clothes on, but when I look at him directly, his eyes are dark and hooded. Occasionally, he lifts my body and my pussy glides over the length of him. I should say something, like “stop, you horny fucker,” but it feels too damn good.
I don’t want to dry hump in front of his brother and teammates though—or is it wet humping if we’re in a pool? Either way, I’m not making a great first impression if we stay out here much longer. The up and down motion over his cock has almost turned in to a continual rhythm and we’re the only people floating around in the water. Everyone else is standing around the deck or lounging in chairs being social.
“Brady, we should get out of the pool. My fingers look like prunes.” I show him my fingertips, but he doesn’t seem bothered by their wrinkly appearance.
“Let’s stay in the water a little while longer,” he whispers into my ear. My skin hums as his breath blows over me. I have to close my eyes and remind myself we are basically in public.
“Why can’t we get out?” I swear, if he keeps these movements up, I’m going to come undone.
“I don’t want anyone to see you,” he mumbles while looking away from my gaze.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say a little too loud. “This is why you’ve kept me covered in water up to my neck?”
“Maybe,” he says with a sheepish smile, but his cute cockiness isn’t going to work this time.
“Jesus, Brady,” I mutter, shaking my head. I wiggle out of his arms and swim to the steps. Walking out of the pool, water dripping everywhere, I find the white towel we brought outside with us.
“Hey, Cali,” Kevin calls, and I turn to face him. “Give me a smile. I’ve got to send a pic to Mitch. He’s got to see what he’s missing.”
A roar sounds from behind me before I see Brady running full steam toward Kevin. Brady swings his fist back and before I can yell, “stop,” the crunching of bone against bone sounds out. Kevin’s head flies back, his entire body landing over a lounger and his phone at Brady’s feet.
“No!” I scream as I run toward them. Picking up Kevin’s phone, Brady tosses it into the pool and I shake my head in disgust.
***
“Wait, Cali,” Brady calls after me, hot on my trail as I charge out of Bryce’s house, heading toward Brady’s car.
Stuart relaxes against the trunk of the black sedan, reading something on his phone as I storm up.
“Ms. Jones?” Stuarts asks, looking up from his phone and appearing confused by my sudden appearance.
“I’m ready to leave. Please.” I grab the door handle, but Brady’s hand covers mine before I can open it.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have punched Kevin,” Brady whispers into my ear, his body leaning over mine. Closing my eyes, I try to regroup and tell myself I shouldn’t want him after what he just did to Kevin. “But he was egging me on. Admit it.”
I spin around and face him—which was a bad idea. Our faces are now inches apart and there’s fire in his eyes too, but it’s more than anger at me, it resembles desire. Feeling more like smacking him with my lips than my hand, I break eye contact.
“He was only taking pics on his phone.” I lean further against the door, but Brady hovers closer to me.
“Right,” he laughs with a slight toss of his head. “He was taking shots of you to send to Mitchell. No way in hell was I going to allow that to happen.”
“Do you really think he was going to do that? Even if he did, Mitchell doesn’t give two shits about me anymore.” I turn back around toward the door and open it. Twisting around Brady, I climb into the backseat, having enough of this conversation. Hell, Bryce basically kicked Brady out of his house, telling him to leave and get his shit together—for his team and me.
“You’re my fiancée, Cali,” Brady says, following me into the backseat, though I scoot as far away from him as I possibly can. “That makes you mine.”
“I’m yours?” I bunch my brows together and shake my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“To
the world, you are.” Brady reaches across the seat and tries to take my hand in his, but I swat it away.
“Kevin is a jerk. Always has been. He was trying to get a rise out of you, not a black eye.”
“I don’t know what came over me. He started pointing his camera at you and I saw red.”
“You don’t have to defend my honor to him or anyone else.”
“But I wanted to,” Brady confesses, his eyes boring into mine. “For the first time in my life, it mattered.”
“Well, it’s just your pride that’s wounded,” I sneer, annoyed by his basic caveman thinking. He saw me first and doesn’t want to share. I roll my eyes.
“It was more than that. He was disrespecting you. Using you for a laugh. I couldn’t stand by while he did that.”
“Let me repeat this loud and clear. I don’t need you defending my honor to him or anyone else, understand?” Brady takes a deep breath and looks away, though I can feel him wanting to say something back to me, like it’s on the tip of his tongue.
Stuart gets into the car and starts to pull out of Bryce’s driveway. “Back to the penthouse, sir?”
“Yes, please drop Cali off there, then take me to Wrigley. I have batting practice the rest of the afternoon. Plus, I need to get ready to join the team tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” Stuart leaves Bryce’s estate and heads back to Chicago along the crowded interstate.
I keep my eyes focused out the car window in an effort to avoid acknowledging Brady on the way home. Every time I think about the scene by the pool, I feel my temperature rise, and not in a good way.
“So, you were pretty serious with Mitch?” Brady asks in a hushed tone.
I huff and shake my head, shocked he still wants to continue down the road to my past.
Pivoting toward him, I see his eyes still burning with anger. But why? Could he be jealous? I don’t understand how that could be.
