by Sosie Frost
Maddy heaved an unsteady breath and braced me with an extended arm. “I know you’re upset. I don’t want this for you either. But Coach Scott isn’t in your corner. The staff and management see you as a liability, and if the league starts demanding disciplinary actions or suspensions, they won’t defend you anymore. Agree to the trade, and we’ll find you a new home, somewhere they’ll take care of you. Do it soon and you won’t spend the season catching-up on their playbook.”
My rage didn’t start as a prickle on my neck. It surged, consuming blood, muscle, and bone. Every instinct in my body tempted me to give into that frenzy.
Not now.
I couldn’t let it happen now—off the field, away from the game.
I stuffed it down, deep, and hated myself. Christ, it pissed me off to deny myself that anger.
It made me mad being mad.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I swore through clenched teeth. “You’re fired.”
Maddy’s eyes bulged, but I never offered mercy before. Nothing like losing a million-dollar commission to cripple a man.
And I was fine watching him writhe and rot.
I retreated to the locker room, but unless I wanted to take a dip in the river, the facility didn’t have enough cold water to calm me.
Not when she followed.
“Mr. Hawthorne.”
Piper covered her eyes at the door to the locker room.
Really? A woman like her shouldn’t have been afraid to see a little cock.
Or a big one.
I pulled off my shirt. “If you can’t handle the dick, get out of the showers.”
“Cole, please.”
“Dropping the formality, beautiful?”
“Dropping the cordiality. You don’t deserve it.”
“Never said I wanted it. No point in being polite.”
Piper peeked and stiffened as I pulled off my pants. She covered her eyes again. Why the hell did that excite me?
“Chivalry isn’t dead—it never existed,” I said. “About the best you’ll get is me covering up with a towel so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities—even though you’re trespassing again.”
“I’m trying to be reasonable.”
“Admit it. You can’t stay away from me.”
“I’m contractually obligated to attend to you,” she said. “Believe me. I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Exit’s right behind you. You might not recognize it without the screeching doorbell.”
“Have you always been this big of an ass?”
“I don’t skip leg days, beautiful.” I knotted the towel. Loosely. She didn’t take the bait or try to peek at how low it draped.
Piper sighed. “Have you always been so combative?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“This world is hit or be hit. If you’re lucky, you can avoid most of the pain.”
“And if you don’t want to hit anyone?”
“Then you’ll end up on your ass…or, if we’re lucky, your knees.”
“Never.”
“I’d love to see you break that promise.”
“I’m a woman of my word.”
“How unfortunate.”
I stepped away before the beast under the towel got any crass ideas. Piper was peanut-brittle delicate, and I wasn’t about to crack her.
Not physically at least.
My locker was sparse. No needless pictures. No trinkets. Just the essentials—clothes, toiletries, and a pair of headphones. I grabbed my shampoo. Piper still didn’t look directly at me. How demure for a woman who practically eye-fucked me on my front porch.
“You weren’t so bashful the other night,” I said. “You can like what you see.”
“How kind of you.”
“You’re not the first one to come and stare at the beast.” I smirked. “Usually they come after staring too.”
“I can only imagine.”
She really couldn’t. I wasn’t a player. The women who let me into their beds didn’t stick around. Couldn’t blame them. I didn’t have a…light touch. They liked it, of course. But most women wanted more than just an animal fuck. Talking. Commitment. Love.
I wasn’t capable of that bullshit. I offered my cock, they took their fill, and I was gone. It worked for me. I liked my space. The quiet.
I liked the way Piper squirmed around me more.
“Don’t fire my father.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because he only met with the Monarchs’ GM. We were sorting out the details of the trade in case you changed your mind.” Piper had uncovered her eyes at least, though she stared at the ceiling once she saw the more expressive posters hanging in some of the guy’s lockers. “We weren’t bargaining. We weren’t working against you. If you agree to the trade, it has to happen fast. That’s all.”
“I won’t get traded.”
“If that’s what you want, fine. You can be as stubborn as you like, but don’t fire him.”
“He disobeyed my wishes.”
“He’s the last agent in our agency who will work with you.” Piper shrugged. “I might not know how many men are on the team or the difference between a fumble and interception—”
“Oh, Christ.”
“—But I know your reputation, Cole. And it’s not good. No one wants to work with you, on the field or off. If you refuse the trade, the Monarchs will cut you by the end of the season—and that sends a message about your character to the league. The teams remotely interested in you now won’t take a chance then, not when they’ll have to deal with President Bennett targeting every move you make.”
“And this has nothing to do with your commission, right?”
Piper huffed. “You just got kicked out of practice, Cole. You better start focusing on your career before it’s over. This isn’t your last opportunity, but time is running out. Even you have a weakness.”
I encroached on her, surprised by her delicate and lovely scent. Something soft and bright. Orange blossoms? Not a smell I normally associated with a locker room, but it wouldn’t distract me, no matter how much my mouth watered.
“You want to find my weakness?” I dropped too close, too near her. The heat of her body radiated through me. I sweated again, without the beating sun or the suffocating pads. “You don’t know how dangerous I can be.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said. Her eyes lingered on my tattoos.
“You should be.”
“Why? Because you’re the beast?”
“It’s more than a nickname.”
“You’re just a man.”
I wasn’t so sure anymore, but damn if she wasn’t heating me in ways I’d long forgotten.
“How bad do you want me?” I whispered.
She flinched. “Excuse me?”
I hadn’t dropped the towel yet. “As a client.”
“I’m not going to beg.”
No. A woman like her wouldn’t. She’d have me beg. Make me fall to my knees and surrender to those base instincts that turned me into a raging, half-animal.
“I won’t leave the agency.” My eyes lowered, drawing over every inch of her curves. “But I’m not dealing with Maddy anymore.”
“Then who--”
“You, beautiful. You want me that badly, you can have me. I’m all yours.”
“I work in the office, but I’m not officially an agent.”
“Looks like Daddy’s giving you a promotion today.”
“Cole—”
“You want me; I’m only dealing with you. Take it or leave it.”
She exhaled. “If you think you’re gonna push me around like I’m—”
“You better run to Daddy and give him the good news.” I glanced to the doorway leading into the showers. “Unless this agency would like to become full-service?”
Piper glowered. Insulted, of course, but also shocked. Like no one had ever propositioned her before. I found it hard to believe a woman as beautif
ul as Piper hadn’t taken her fill from some lucky son of a bitch.
“If I take you as a client, we’re doing this my way,” she said.
I unknotted the towel. “Sure, we will.”
“No inappropriate behavior.”
I dropped it to the floor. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Piper’s gaze glued to the ceiling. “No innuendos.”
“Don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
“And you will be signing that waiver because you know a trade is the best choice for you.”
I did like a challenge. “I’ve never done anything in my best interests.”
“Yes, you have, Mr. Hawthorne.”
“And what’s that?”
She stalked before me, kneeling down to pick up the towel so very near my hard cock. She said nothing as she folded the terrycloth and pushed it into my chest.
“You hired me.”
Piper
My day started at six in the morning with a dirty diaper and agitated toddler. Still, the shit at work was much worse, all slung by coworkers crankier than my baby.
Rose was an angel compared to the other agents in the sports-bro office. I’d been harassed, hit on, berated, and blamed for the mishandling of one of our biggest clients…all before lunch.
For so long, I’d imagined myself working and studying and living in a world of academia and literature. My accidental pregnancy closed that particular chapter of my life. Still, a new dream took its place.
So many people spent their lives wishing for their own Once Upon A Time. They chased godmothers and princes and searched for that magical moment when all their problems melted away. Well, as far as I was concerned, I already had my happily ever after.
Rose was sixteen months of feisty energy, twenty pounds of squirmy love, eight teeth of a goofy smile, and ten fingers that waved to me when I finally got to pick her up after a long day at work.
My baby was every bit the fairy tale remedy I needed.
Sleeping Beauty slept for a hundred years—with Rose, I only had to worry about four to six hours at a time. Snow White choked on an apple—Rose preferred bananas. Cinderella lost her slipper—who could keep shoes on a toddler without superglue?
Rose showed off a brand new band-aid on her forehead. She pointed to it with a goofy grin and squealed. Both it and her pudgy dark cheeks begged for a kiss.
I settled her at my hip and turned to Mrs. Potter. Rose’s nanny was a wonderful woman, a friend of the family for years. Mrs. Potter was the eternal grandma I remembered as chubby and gray even when I was a kid. She still seemed as vivacious twenty years later.
“Uh-oh!” Rose pointed two unsteady fingers at the band-aid. “Uh-oh!”
“I see that.” I smoothed the twin, puff-ball pigtails on her head. “What’d you do this time, Rosie?”
She answered with a spit-bubble, sneeze, and I was pretty sure she peed. She did her best to welcome her momma home with a flourish.
Mrs. Potter gathered her things and chuckled through her exhaustion. “She likes to run, run, run…but she hasn’t learned how to stop yet.”
“A wall or couch usually helps,” I said, tickling under Rose’s chin. “Or a tush on the floor.”
“Well, today she banged her head off the coffee table. Nothing serious.”
“It’ll match the bruise on her knee.”
Mrs. Potter sighed. “And elbow.”
“Surprise, surprise, I made an uncoordinated baby.”
I held Rose out, searching her over as she sputtered, coo’ed, and regaled me with the tales of her day the only way she could.
“Mamamamamamama…”
Still hadn’t learned where to end the word mama, but I was pretty sure it was a calculated plot. Instead of calling my name, Rose blitzed through the syllables until I paid sufficient attention to her.
“Tell me she’ll get a bit more stable when she’s older.” I glanced to Mrs. Potter. “I know I’m a klutz, but maybe she has a chance?”
“Let’s focus on getting her through one afternoon without a boo-boo.”
If only. Every day was an adventure with a baby—especially when I raised her alone and discovered all her peculiarities by myself. Peas were good. Socks were bad. Running in the grass was fantastic. She loved a bath, but hated being chilly after. Still, the most surprising trait of a toddler? They were quite bouncy. Rose spent her days devising new and unique ways to try to kill herself.
Why didn’t toddlers come with their own parachutes?
“About her…running…” Mrs. Potter said.
She patted Rose’s back and crossed to the kitchen, pouring out the last bit of her tea. She sighed.
“Piper, I want to help you. I can’t imagine being a single mother.”
“She makes it easy.”
“She is a lovely spirit, just like you. I know this isn’t how you envisioned your life…”
I hugged my baby. She wasn’t a doctoral thesis. She was better than that. Yes, my life was different, and, yes, I spent ten-hour days at Dad’s agency working hard to support a baby I felt like I never got to see anymore. But those hours made sure she had food, clothing, and toys.
And I’d work double the hours if I had to, just to know she wouldn’t want for anything.
“I’m getting older,” Mrs. Potter said. “And Rose is more rambunctious and mobile now.”
I agreed. “Her crib is in my bedroom. It’s a slumber party every night at three in the morning.”
I knew what was coming. Mrs. Potter folded her hands. “I hate to say this, Piper, but since Rosie is more of a handful now…I’m going to need a higher salary.”
The piggy bank in my head had already shattered. “I understand. I’ll work with you. I’m already gone for so long during the day. I’d hate for Rosie to lose you too.”
“It isn’t my place…” Mrs. Potter shrugged. “But perhaps her father—”
Yeah, right. “I can handle it on my own.”
“He did offer to marry you.” Mrs. Potter frowned. “Boorish man he was.”
“Jasper wouldn’t have been a good husband, and he’s a worse father. I think we’re doing okay.” I squeezed Rose tighter. “We don’t need his help.”
“But sometimes…a girl needs her father, Piper.”
“Rose is better off without Jasper.”
“I wasn’t talking solely about Rosie.” She gave me a knowing look, one I used to avoid when I was a little. “I’ll give you a formal salary proposal in the morning. Maybe talk it over with Maddy—”
“No need.” My throat tightened. “Thank you.”
She understood. Mrs. Potter waved bye-bye to Rose, but my baby was already busy with her next source of mischief. She squirmed to escape from my arms.
“Not yet, you little meatball…” I aimed for the changing table in our shared bedroom. “You need to be changed.”
Rose didn’t like that.
At all.
The instant she’d learned to walk meant she was too busy for diapers. Rose fussed, spouting some very questionable babble that sounded suspiciously like a little sailor instead of my cute bundle of joy.
As far as I knew, buh-bye hadn’t morphed into bi-ach.
Rose plotted her escape. My head pounded, and I was so hungry my stomach eyed my kidney for a snack. I didn’t want to tussle with a furious toddler and decided to change her super quick. I grabbed the spare diaper bag and bargained with a child who had no idea how to appropriately negotiate.
“I’m offering to take your wet diaper for free.” I laid her on the floor and booped her nose with my finger. “You won’t find a better deal than that. Not like I’m trying to trade you to Ironfield.”
Rose agreed with a fist in her mouth. She gurgled and then offered the shiny hand to me.
“No thanks…” I shuffled her tush down. “I’d rather make some spaghetti for dinner. Sound good? Want some sketti?”
She blew a raspberry at me, kicked, and tried to bolt.
So
it’d be that kind of night.
I flipped her over and distracted her with her favorite toy—Mr. Bunny Bumpybottom. The floppy bunny usually worked to appease her, but my ringing cellphone caught her attention. I grabbed the phone before Rose stuck it in her mouth.
Dad.
Great.
I answered with a sigh, casting aside one wet diaper. “Hey, Dad.”
“I need you at the office.”
Nothing cordial today, but he hadn’t been especially friendly since Cole nearly put him through a wall. Unfortunately, he took it out on me.
I expected him to summon me to the office for his favorite father-daughter activity—unpaid overtime.
“What’s wrong, Dad?”
“Everything. We have a lot of work to do.”
I turned, propping the phone on my ear and rooting through the diaper bag. No wipes. Whoops.
“I can’t wait until you’re potty-trained.” I poked at Rose’s stomach.
Dad huffed. “What was that?”
“Nothing. I just got home. Mrs. Potter left for the night. I can’t come back.”
“Find a sitter.”
It was easier to find wipes in a bag filled with spare clothes, toys, bottles, diapers, blankets…
“Can’t we talk in the morning?” I asked.
“You know, I expected more commitment from you, Piper.”
I tugged the bag closed. A new package of wipes was buried in the front pocket. My last attempt at being organized. I wiggled it loose and turned back to the blanket.
And Rose was gone.
I didn’t care how fast Dad’s clients could run a forty. No one moved quicker than a toddler escaping a diaper change.
I hurried to my feet. Rose squealed from the hall, toddling buck-naked and aiming for the bedroom.
“What do you need from me, Dad?”
“I talked with the Monarchs’ head coach today. Scott’s not happy. He planned to sit Hawthorne for the last preseason game but decided against it. Hawthorne is damn lucky he’s their best blitzer.”
I still wasn’t sure what a blitz was or how to run it, but that skill was one of the reasons Cole made his millions.
“Coach Scott wants to cut him,” Dad said.
“Cole doesn’t want to be traded.”
I didn’t hear Rose anymore, and that meant she was inventing a new and potentially time-consuming problems for me to solve, especially since she wasn’t in a diaper…
