by Piper Rayne
“What’s with the ball?” Peter asks, pointing to it with the tip of his beer.
Luca removes his arm from around me, spinning the ball on his finger. “Our talent.”
“Spinning a ball?” Peter laughs and although the outside door is closed, that chill reappears in the small area.
Luca takes two hands and pretends to throw it at Peter, but catches it. Peter flinches. “Wanna try it?”
“Luca.” I sigh because that was some macho high school asshole bullshit.
“Well, Cindy and I have a pretty good number,” Peter says and I look to him through the side of my eyes.
Maybe Peter wasn’t blind to Cindy’s flirtatious touches after all.
“Care to wager who wins?”
I pull on Luca’s arm. “This isn’t for anything other than a gift card to Chili’s.” I look to Peter. “Good luck.”
Peter nods, his eyes on Luca.
Seriously?
Thankfully Peter heads back into the main room which allows me to openly glare at Luca.
“What the hell was that about?”
Chapter Twenty
Luca
I’m used to getting a reaction out of Lauren similar to the glare she’s shooting me right now. One that suggests she’d like to jump on top of me and rip my tongue out.
“What? I hate guys who try to act like they’re not attempting to steal another guy’s woman away.”
She circles her finger up in the air. “There are so many things wrong with that sentence.”
“Don’t even deny it. He’s been scowling at me all night. He’s got it bad for you.”
She rolls her eyes. Something else I’m used to.
“Do I have to remind you that the reason we agreed to this…” her voice lowers her gaze shooting around the room, “is so he knows I’m taken. You don’t have to go all caveman and high school jock on him. I want to keep my job.”
I laugh. Does she not know me at all? We went to the same school, right? I was friends with everyone no matter if they were into sports or the marching band.
“I thought you’d like if I acted protective. It comes off as real.”
My sentence is half bullshit. I’m not really a guy who acts overly protective of the girl he’s with. Actually, that might be because I’ve never had a serious relationship before. Or I never cared enough? Damn, that’s way too heavy of a subject to dig into tonight. The only thing I know for certain is when I walked into the venue and I saw Peter out here with Lauren I was pissed.
I should apologize, but I’m not going to.
“Whatever. Just don’t do it again and another thing. I’m not your woman.”
I chuckle, swinging my arm around her shoulders. I really need to stop the touchy-feely shit, but I can’t seem to. My hands just reach out for her all on their own. Before I even realize it, I’m touching her soft skin again. I wanted to kick Peter in the shin when he left the table earlier because with him gone there was no excuse for me to touch her.
I’m actually surprised I still have my hand, and that Lauren didn’t stab it with a fork.
“Let’s go win this thing,” I say and squeeze her into my side.
“Again, it’s a Chili’s gift card,” she deadpans.
I let go of her and walk backward toward the door, messing around with the soccer ball. “What happened to the girl who does it just for the win? Why are you so resistant?” I stop and wait for her to respond.
“This is where I work and you know competition makes me a tad crazy. You see the way they’re all talking about the company picnic.”
Damn, this is a first.
“Hunt.” I step forward, my hand moving up to her face but I clench it in a fist and bring it to my side before I tuck that strand of hair behind her ear and nudge her chin to look me in the eyes. Every word is on the tip of my tongue, ready to reassure her that she’s perfect the way she is—hyper-competitiveness and all. But this is all an act and when the curtain falls, I don’t want things to be awkward between us.
She shakes her head. “Forget it. Let’s just do this.” She barrels past me and her hand is on the door when it springs open from the other side and she flies backward.
The soccer ball drops and I’m rewarded with her small frame falling into my chest.
A couple comes out the doors, laughing with each other. They’re both drunk and their hands can’t stop touching one another. They don’t seem to have noticed that without me here, Lauren would’ve fallen flat on the floor.
Lauren sighs and I urge her to her feet, my hands resting on her hips. “You okay?”
She squiggles out of my arms. “I’m good. Thanks.”
Then she’s opening the door and stepping through while I’m still processing how good she felt pressed up against me. If she was mine, I would be doing exactly what those two people are doing down the hall.
“A soccer ball?” Cindy asks when we reach the table. “Kinky.”
I take off my jacket and roll my shirt up to my elbows. Lauren’s gaze is on my movements the entire time.
“You think everything is kinky,” Katie says in a snarky way.
Just as the current act of Danny and Sandy from Grease singing the song from the end of the movie finishes up, the owner comes by. He nods his head in a hello to everyone at the table.
I stand up to introduce myself. “Hi, Mr. Garfield, I’m Luca Bianco, Lauren’s fiancé.”
The man stares down at my hand.
“Luca.” Lauren’s hand is on my arm, and she’s standing next to me now. “Hello, Mr. Garfield.” She lowers her head to him.
What is this? Some bowing thing?
“Now Lauren, you know it’s Ollie.” He pats me on the arm. “Nice to meet you. You got one of the good ones with Lauren. She’s a real pistol. Did she tell you about the company picnic last year?”
A low grumble falls from Lauren’s lips.
Since the guy isn’t going to shake my hand, I use it to once again to touch Lauren.
“I heard a little about it. What can I say? She’s got drive. No competition, no progress, am I right?”
He smiles and nods his head. “True enough. I’d say you got lucky too, Lauren.”
She saddles up to me a little tighter. “I did.”
Our eyes lock and I lose sight for a moment that this is all an act. Her love-drunk eyes aren’t for me, they’re for the benefit of everyone at the table. I blink and we both see that Ollie has moved on to the other people at the table.
“Oh and before I leave you all, you should know that there’s an extra bonus if you win the talent show,” Ollie says.
I want to rub my hands together and say give it to me because although I’m a huge fan of Chili’s chips and salsa, a little more might put me into overdrive.
“What is it, Ollie?” Cindy asks, her hand moving forward to the man but she retracts it fast.
What the hell is up here?
“We’re giving away a weekend trip to a cabin in Wisconsin.”
“Your cabin?” Cindy’s eyes gleam with amazement.
He nods. “Yes. Hummingbird Cove.”
Cindy smacks her hand on the table. “You’re kidding me, Ollie. Why wasn’t this mentioned earlier? I would have practiced more.”
The whole table laughs.
“You should’ve done your best either way.” He eyes her like a stern father.
She looks into her almost empty drink like a disciplined child.
“Good luck to you all. I must say Reba and I were disappointed to see your name missing from the list, Lauren.”
“Well—”
“We want to sign up. It’s not too late right?” I interject earning a glare from Lauren.
A big smile appears on Ollie’s face, the wrinkles around his eyes creasing farther.
“Not at all. There are some props by the stage just in case anyone changed their mind. I can’t wait to tell Reba.”
“When did Lauren turn into Beyoncé?” Cindy asks. “And how c
ome she doesn’t get the stern father act about not putting herself out there and facing her fears.”
“Fears?” Lauren asks.
“Stage fright,” Cindy says like she’s sure that’s the reason for Lauren not signing.
I might not know inside out, but there’s no way she has stage fright. She thrives on anything that puts her in the spotlight.
She tugs on my arm. “Let’s go figure out what we’re going to do. Thanks for letting us jump in on the fun, Mr. …Ollie I mean.”
“I can’t wait to see what the two of you cook up.” His eyes zero in on the spinning soccer ball on my finger.
“Me, too.” Lauren leans to touch his arm but retracts quickly, ushering me forward with her head.
By the time we reach the side of the stage, one couple is getting ready to tap dance. Their shoes clicking on the floor in preparation.
“What’s with the not touching your boss thing?”
“Germaphobe.” Lauren digs through a bin of costumes. “I can’t believe you have me doing this.”
“We’re not going out there as clowns.”
“Then what are we doing?” She throws her arms up in the air and I’ve never seen her so unnerved. Makes me wish I could take her into a back room and unwind her a little.
“We’re doing what we do best.” I take the soccer ball, sliding it up my arm, behind my neck and back down my other arm. It falls off. Fuck I’m out of practice.
“We’re going to go out there and fight?” She crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip.
I laugh, trying the trick again. “No, we’re going to do some awesome trick shots.” After finally getting the motion right with the ball, I bounce it on my knee like in the movie Karate Kid.
“No one is going to be impressed with that unless Ralph Macchio is up on stage.”
“Ye of little faith.” I kick it up and to her. She immediately reacts like I knew she would. “I doubt any of those people could do what we do.”
Since Lauren has the ball, I scour another bin. Another twosome of women are head deep in the costume bin while Lauren chats with them. I don’t know what this Hummingbird Cove place is, but it seems to have gotten a fire under everyone’s ass.
I pull out a hula hoop and a kid’s basketball net then dump out all the contents from the box. “I’ll be back.” I venture around the hallway and other rooms, scrounging up everything I can find to make sure we win this.
When I return to the side of the stage, Lauren’s dress is inched up her legs, her heels are kicked off and she’s practicing her tricks. It’s scary how well I know her when I actually don’t.
“What’s all that?” She kicks the ball up and if she wasn’t so fast, I might have caught a glimpse. As much as I love seeing her toned olive skinned legs, I can’t in good faith allow her to go to the stage. Especially with Peter there.
“You’re going to have to put on some pants.”
She looks down, the ball dribbles away and she pulls the hem of her dress down again.
“Yeah, maybe this wasn’t the brightest idea.”
“No, we just need to find you some pants.”
I dig through the costume bin, finding a pair of pink spandex that might be from the Jane Fonda era.
“Seriously?” she asks, holding them up in the air.
“Either that or everyone sees your bearded taco.”
Her eyes narrow. “What did you just call it?”
“Sorry, are you shaved bare? Just a taco then?” I laugh, but she doesn’t see the humor because she continues to scowl at me. “Fine. Your flower.” I roll my eyes a little.
She puts on the pink spandex, and maybe I should’ve picked the overalls because it’s like a second skin. Her dress is wrapped around her waist now and please Jesus. No. She circles around to pick up the ball, bending over. My meat is all about sliding into that taco shell all of a sudden.
“Lauren,” I bite out, my eyes refusing to look away.
“What?” she says, picking the ball up. “You know I’ve decided that if you’re not going to change up that saying for my vagina than I’m going to refer to yours as small fry.”
“There’s nothing small about me.” I want to jut out my hips, so she can see exactly how big my Beefeater fry is growing right now.
“Please,” she drones. “Never heard that one before.” Her eyes roll into the back of her head.
“Oh good, you guys are here.” A woman approaches with a clipboard. “You’re next.”
“Next? We just signed up.” Lauren’s face pales.
“Sorry, we did a random draw.” The young blonde shrugs.
“We’re good. Thanks.”
The girl smiles at me before turning to leave.
“How can we be good?” Lauren whispers, trying not to disturb the couple who are out there doing a comedy act.
“I just have to set up. This is nothing you haven’t done before. We’re going to kick the soccer ball off obstacles and into a box. A net would’ve been better, but we can make do. Between both of us, we can totally impress everyone. I figure you bounce the ball off your head and I’ll pick it up with my feet. We’ll try to never use our hands. I’m telling you no two people would be more perfect to pull this off.”
I approach her, taking her hands in mine. She needs to trust me and that’s not easy for Lauren to do. I get it because it’s not easy for me to trust someone else either. We’re both way too used to being the dominant person. Both of us were captains of our teams in high school. We both like the attention on us. We’re so similar it’s probably another reason we’d be horrible together if we were a real couple.
“Well, other than Mia Hamm and Lionel Messi. Yeah, I guess we’re second best.” She shakes her head like I’ve been smoking crack and am currently hallucinating.
“Just trust me.”
“Trust you?” she asks, her hands limp in mine.
“I promise I won’t fail you.” The words come out with so much conviction that it feels like I’m talking about more than just the talent show.
The comedy couple comes off stage and wish us luck. Lauren’s gaze shoots to the stage and back to me.
Eventually, she nods. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Lauren
Luca is insane.
He rushes out to the stage setting all the obstacles up while I stand to the side, biting the inside of my cheek. I stare down at my crazy outfit of pink eighties workout spandex and my green dress around my waist. How did I allow him to convince me to do this?
“And now our very own Lauren Hunt with her fiancé Luca Bianco.” Sam introduces us, her sweet voice almost putting me at ease.
I meet Luca in the middle of the stage and like everything in his life he takes our talent by the horns thinking he’s brilliant. His hand on the microphone, he waits for me, which is a tad surprising. Everything I know about Luca says the spotlight is where he loves to be.
“Before we begin I’m going to give you a little backstory about me and my gorgeous fiancé.”
A few laughs echo through the crowd when they see my outfit. Katie and Cindy’s cackles float up to the stage. I can’t blame them I’d be doing the same if I was down there and one of them were up here in some ridiculous outfit.
“I’ve known this woman since she was just a girl. From the first moment I saw Lauren, it was clear that she was the female version of me. We thrive on competition and winning. Yeah, yeah, I know what people say, but I think in both our minds, there’s no such thing as second place. You either win or lose.” He looks over to me with an ‘am I right expression?’
I nod.
He smiles, holding out his hand for me to come a little closer.
I do, and a million pulses of electricity skitter over my skin when we come into contact.
“I know in this day and age there are participation medals and everyone’s a winner, but we don’t play by those rules. We both played soccer in high school. Each of us was the cap
tain of our teams. We were enemies in every sense of the word. If I wasn’t raised by a great Italian Mama, I would’ve tripped her going down the hall.”
I balk, he can’t be serious, but he nods in confirmation to me right after saying it’s true. Just further clarification that what he said in the lobby was all part of the act of playing my fiancé.
“We met at the corner of love and hate. Luckily our paths crossed there again, but the second time we took the right path…love.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. I’m staring at him like everyone else in this room. He really should have gone into acting because everything about what he just said felt…believable.
“Anyway.” He clears his throat. “We’re going to do what we do best and that’s compete with one another. This time doing soccer tricks. Enjoy!” Luca squeezes my hand to begin and walks to the side of the stage. But I’m blinking back the wetness coating my eyes for some stupid reason. “Ladies first,” he says, gesturing to me.
The spotlights unnerve me, but I bounce the ball off my knee and then the other knee, warming up.
“Bring it, Hunt!” Luca yells from the other side of the stage.
The crowd claps and the DJ starts playing some techno music. Luca hops off the stage, striding over to the DJ, and then the music stops.
Ludacris’s “Stand Up” starts playing as he hops back up on the stage.
I wonder what Ollie and Reba are thinking right now, but the audience begins clapping as I start to find my rhythm. Quickly, the ball and I are one. I kick it behind me, and forward, using my knees, my feet and every part of my body except my hands. Kicking it to Luca, he catches it flawlessly behind his head and the guests cheer. Some of them leave their seats and make their way closer to the stage, still clapping to the beat.
What I thought was the stupidest idea ever has everyone admiring what we can do with a ball. Luca makes the ball slide down his arm, bounce on the floor and then he starts his own routine, getting a lot of oohs and aahs.
Sam comes out with a hula hoop in her hands, holding it up between me and Luca. When did she become our assistant?
