Chapter Seventeen
I don’t remember having a better day in my entire life. After our embrace, we walked along the beach holding hands, splashing water, and acting silly. For such a big serious guy, Joel had a soft and fun side too. I appreciated the fact that I didn’t catch him staring at my chest again. I don’t think I was quite so respectful. I suffered from a serious muscle fetish.
I awoke well rested on Monday. I called Charlie, who’d sent me a text the day before reminding me to visit the newspaper. It was a quick drive and I was there by nine. The building was larger than I expected, and a small thrill passed through me at the thought of owning a newspaper. The front had floor-to-ceiling glass windows with a large desk just inside. There was a bell, which I didn’t ring because I got caught up in the photography on the walls. Most were rugby players and holy hell there were a lot.
They were eight-by-ten autographed collectibles like Charlie told me. I recognized many of the players—action shots, stills, and a few posed. Stub was talented. I found a shirtless picture of Van, cocky grin in place while holding a rugby ball. I tore my gaze away and started looking for Joel. I found no pictures of just him, just ones with the team. I had no idea why. Maybe his man-candy shots sold like hotcakes. Crap… that made me think of pancakes and I chuckled.
“What has you in such a good mood this morning?” Charlie said over my shoulder.
“These are hot and I mean sexy hot. You’re wife’s a lucky woman,” I teased.
“I’m the lucky one. These guys spend hours building muscle, turn her on, and I don’t have to work as hard when I get her in bed.”
“You’re incorrigible and no lightweight!” I walked back over to the picture of Van and pointed to it. “Why is Van here but not Joel?”
Charlie’s smile faded slightly. “Joel won’t take a picture because of his scar. He says he doesn’t want to scare the kids away.”
I was shocked. “It bothers him that much?” He did nothing to hide it. The scar was a part of him and I only thought about it yesterday because I wanted to touch it. I couldn’t believe he worried about my boobs but he wouldn’t take a picture.
Charlie had a contemplative look on his face. “I don’t think it exactly bothers him, he’s just shy, and it’s his excuse.”
“Shy? You’re kidding me.” The last label I’d put on Joel was shy.
“He’s always been the quiet brother. Van takes over a room when he enters. Joel stays in the background. It was that way even before his mother died. Afterward it got a little worse. If he’s comfortable with you, you won’t notice it. As soon as someone comes around he doesn’t know he’ll fade into the background. The only time I see him truly carefree is on the field. He’s intense and there’s nothing shy about him when he plays.”
I turned and looked at Van again, trying to take a moment to collect my thoughts. Maybe when I first met Joel he was just shy, not that he disliked me. I, of all people, understood shyness. If you’re shy, something like large breasts just makes it worse. I couldn’t imagine a scar on my face that I was unable to hide. Did he have any idea how sexy it made him?
“You know there’s a rumor going around about you and Van.”
Heat flooded my cheeks and I faced Charlie before hiding my shock. “I… well… shit, Charlie, I’m acting like a teenager. I’m sorry. You warned me away and I was stupid.” As much as I hated the idea of rumors, I came from a small town and should have expected it. Bigger fool me.
Charlie gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m telling you right now, Stub will kick his ass. She likes you and only tolerates Van. I was wild back in the day, so I have hope for that boy, but Stub, not so much.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I told him how I felt. “I’m an adult and I make my own choices. They aren’t always wise, but I have no one to blame but myself. He didn’t make any promises.”
“I noticed the two bimbos on Van’s arm after the game. Is that why you left so early?”
Bimbos. What an old-fashioned but apt description and it wasn’t even a four-letter word. I smiled. “Joel walked me to my room.” Now I fibbed just a bit. “I had to get my article ready for submission.”
“Joel’s a fine man. Stick with him from now on and you’ll be happier.”
Charlie wasn’t the right person to discuss bad boys and why girls always feel attracted to them. I needed to call Tyson and cry on his shoulder. I kept thinking I could just forget what happened, but if the entire town knew, that was impossible.
“Come on, stop with the doom-and-gloom face and let me show you around.” Charlie held open the door to the back room and I walked through. There were four desks, one with a young woman sitting at it and one with a man. They both looked up when I came in.
“Leo, Tina, this is Cami Avesque from that fancy city paper I told you about.” Leo was a tall skinny man in his thirties; he wore large black glasses that reminded me of Clark Kent. Tina was probably my age and quite pretty. She dressed less conservatively than I did, but most women did.
I smiled at them both. “The Cleveland News and Journal might be fancy, but I work in a room similar to this on the second floor in classifieds. Getting this story on rugby was a fluke. I’ll be back in classifieds when I return home.” I shook Leo’s hand, appreciating his easy smile. I turned to Tina and for a moment she left my hand hanging before giving me a dead-fish, must-I-touch-it skim of fingers. She spun around and went back to her desk.
I turned to Charlie unsure of what just happened. He rolled his eyes and began explaining his layout. Within a short time, I forgot Tina as Charlie held me spellbound. And that was before he took me into the printing room. My eyes practically came out of my head. His press was awe inspiring.
Charlie sounded like a proud papa. “This baby is a four-color trifold with a five-hundred-seventy-eight millimeter by twenty-two and three-quarter cut off. I picked her up used, had her shipped from the other side of the planet, but she’s been worth every penny it cost me.”
“You put out a weekly paper.”
“Yes, though I’ve always wanted it bi-weekly. Don’t see that happening now, but a man can always dream.”
I walked around the metal monstrosity dying to see it in action. “When does she roll?”
“On Thursday. You wanna watch?”
“You bet.”
Charlie walked me out to my car half an hour later. “Sorry about Tina,” he said before I climbed in.
“I’m afraid to ask what the problem is.”
“You guessed it then. She has a thing for Van.”
My laugh was anything but happy. “She has nothing to worry about. He dumped me first thing the morning after. If she hasn’t slept with him yet, he’s available for a night.” I could hear the anger in my words and felt bad that I’d said anything. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
“Don’t worry about it. I saw that killer spark in your personality the first time I met you. It’ll get you far in this business.”
There was no way he saw a spark in me, but he was so sweet to say so. “Thanks, Charlie. I’ll see you Thursday.”
I drove away and headed to The Slam Tavern for lunch. I planned to leave my car in the Inn’s parking lot and as I turned in my cell rang.
Joel and I switched numbers the day before and I smiled when his named popped up on the screen. “Cami here.”
“What are you doing for lunch?” he asked without any other greeting.
“I was just heading to the tavern.”
“Want company?”
I really did, but should I?
“If you don’t, say so,” he said at my hesitation.
“Yes, I want company. I just feel like I’m taking you away from the world of rugby management, business tycoon stuff, and all around busy life.”
His soft chuckle sounded wonderfully enticing. “I’ll make time for you, pancake. Meet you in five. I’m at the stadium.”
“I hate you.” His laugh clicked short when he ended the call.
Joel waited, long legs about a foot apart, arms crossed over his chest, and entirely too much muscle on display for me to ignore.
Think of him like a brother, think of him like a brother…
It didn’t work and I couldn’t help my exasperation. “Do you practice that stance so all the ladies stare?”
His semi-grumpy features changed. His lips curled up and a teasing light entered his eyes. “The question is… do you want to stare?”
He had his husky sexy voice down better than Van. “I like brains, not brawn,” I lied.
“Hmm,” he said as he reached for me, wrapping his large hands around my hips, and lifting me up the two steps in front of the tavern door.
Holy fuck. He didn’t even strain to do it. I needed a drink and it wasn’t yet noon. I swayed against him knowing I probably had a stupid dreamy look on my face. Why couldn’t I be an ass girl? At least then men wouldn’t see the effect they had on me; they’d be facing the other way.
I made the smallest groan and his arms circled me.
“I like when you make that sound,” he said while rubbing in a small circular motion against my lower back.
“You are so bad for me.”
His hands froze and then he moved me away slightly, his expression gone serious. “Why would I be bad for you?”
The words tripped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Because I have a thing for muscles and you have too many.”
He bit his upper lip for a second, probably trying to keep his laughter contained. “A thing?”
“Shit, why did I say that?” I muttered. I couldn’t look at him and glanced around for a place to hide.
“Muscles, huh?”
“Don’t start. I have very little willpower when it comes to ripped bodies. Add alcohol and I’m Jell-O. If you would just wear looser shirts and not cross your arms in that he-man way, things would go easier for me.”
Joel reached around and opened the door, crowding me into the tavern. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed two menus, and scooted me forward with his body. Completely unfair. My boy-girl friendship worked with Tyson because I wasn’t attracted to his skinny geek body. Joel was another story.
It was Estella’s day off, so an unfamiliar waitress worked our table. She cast sly glances at Joel when he wasn’t looking, but went out of her way to be nice to me too. Maybe Joel brought out the sweet side in women and his brother the opposite. We ate lunch and Joel never brought up my declaration about being a muscle nympho. Maybe we could be friends after all.
“You coming to practice today?” he asked before laying some bills on the table.
I really needed to insist on paying. I had a company credit card that had seen very little use. “I don’t think so. I need to organize some of my notes and do laundry. I also have a few calls to make and emails to catch up on.”
He took my hand and led me outside. “I’ll pick you up for dinner. What do you feel like?”
This had to stop. “Sorry, but I’m putting my foot down. You are not buying me dinner. I’ll just grab a sandwich and eat in my room tonight.” I tried giving him my stern face, but it didn’t faze him.
“I’ll pick up sandwiches and bring them to you your room. What do you want on yours?”
I reached up and tapped my knuckles against the side of his head. “Hollow, just like I thought.”
He took my hand and squeezed a bit before weaving his fingers between mine. He bent my arm behind my back and used his other on my opposite hip to draw me closer. “Don’t make me bring out the big guns. I have no problem taking off my shirt.”
“I’m sorry I said anything,” I huffed.
“I already caught onto the fact you like staring at me. Now tell me what you want on your sandwich.”
A slow, wet lick was exactly what I wanted, but it had nothing to do with a sandwich. It suddenly occurred to me that we were standing in the middle of the parking lot in broad daylight and rumors were floating around that I had sex with Joel’s brother.
I gave in. “Turkey on wheat, everything but onions.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He jerked me a little more firmly against him.
“You don’t play fair.”
Joel gazed down at me, his eyes searching. He kissed the tip of my nose then let me go. “I don’t play anything but rugby,” he said before turning and walking away.
Chapter Eighteen
I wrote the outline for the next installment of my series. This one concentrated more on the crazy fans. I called Stub and she was happy to email me files of costumed antics complete with names and contact information so I could get permission to use their pictures.
I emailed Skylar to see how she was feeling. It was nice of her to offer assistance and I might need it.
Hi Skylar,
How is the mother to be? I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I hate that your incapacitation is my big break. You should know that a gig in a third world country with an infected water supply would be more to my liking. I’m not a sports fan, and even though I find myself enthralled with rugby, I’m more attracted to the man candy. And, oh God, I shouldn’t say that. It’s quite unprofessional of me, but I don’t understand how you do it. I hope you get a laugh out of this. We leave Friday for my first away game and I’ll be trapped on a bus with more testosterone than I’m comfortable with, poor me.
Cami
I reread the email and almost deleted it. For some odd reason I trusted Skylar. I also wanted to open the door to this line of discussion if what I suspected was true. I put a lot of thought into why I was here instead of a more seasoned reporter. I had a feeling that young and female might have been the qualifications for this assignment. The question was, why me? One of the more unappealing choices I’m sure.
I clicked the speed dial on my cell.
“What’s up Ca-ca?” I smiled at Tyson’s deplorable nickname for me.
“Not much Ty-ty,” I grumbled.
He laughed. “Point taken, Cam. How’s life in the big city?”
“I have no idea. I’m in Colt, Ohio, working a story.”
“You got promoted. Congratulations, I knew it was only a matter of time before those idiots realized your talent was wasted in classifieds.” He sounded happy enough to jump through the phone, which only made my smile bigger. I missed him so much.
I laughed at the joy of just hearing his voice. “Not so fast. I’m working a series of articles on rugby.”
Dead silence…
“You… rugby?” There was actually a slight squeak on the word rugby.
Yeah, that about summed it up. I knew he would understand. “Me and rugby are tight,” I teased.
“This is a joke, right?”
It was time to fess up. “I wish. The reporter assigned the case was placed on bed rest due to pregnancy complications and yours truly was sent in her place.”
Again Tyson hesitated before replying, but I knew him. He liked to think things through. “Okay, so it’s not the break you were looking for. You’re still capable of giving them a story that will knock their socks off.”
Here went nothing. “I slept with one of the team’s owners, and I’m kinda sorta friends with his brother. They both play on the team too.”
“What the fuck, Cam?” He answered his own question. “I take it they’re built?”
“Understatement. Mr. Universe material. I’m an idiot and to top it off, I’m in a perpetual state of horny.”
That got a laugh that continued m
uch too long before he came back with, “Need me to fly in and offer some relief? I don’t have the bulk, but I’ve learned a lot since we hooked up.”
I gave a loud groan. “You have no idea how much I wanna take you up on that offer.”
“Hot damn, you just made all my wet dreams come true.” He exaggerated hot and heavy breathing for a few seconds before giving a sigh. “It’s totally screwed up that I hear a but in this arrangement.”
“Why did you go and mention your wet dreams? Ick. I don’t need to know that and I hope I’m not part of them. I must find a way to control my own libido.”
He grumbled a little and it sounded so sweet on him, not sexy at all. “You have always been a key factor in my wet dreams. That said—I’ve never understood why you don’t go after what turns you on. For some reason you think you can change it. Wake up, Cam, and take control of your desire by giving into it. And don’t give me any of that shit about dumb jocks. You can’t keep your eyes off of them and I’ve been watching you try to do it for years. There are bound to be a few smart ones out there that would make good daddy material…”
I cut him off. “Wait a minute, who said anything about babies?”
“You just did. I only spoke of daddies and don’t interrupt me, I’m just getting started. I’ve wanted to tell you this for entirely too long. Hell, I’ve fucked you, Cam. I know what you want and spent years hoping it was me. That is never happening. Stop screwing around and go after what gets your juices flowing.”
He was so lucky we weren’t having this conversation in person. “You know you’re pissing me off. I know exactly what I want. I want a career in journalism. The last thing I need is my slutty behavior keeping me from my goal.”
He grumbled again. “You’ve always had the tools to make your way to the top, and, yes, I mean your tits. Don’t go all squeamish on me either. If you’re going to fuck the key men in your story then you can just as well fuck your way up the ladder.”
“You bastard.” Everything inside of me deflated and I started crying. This was not why I called my best friend.
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