He grinned down at her. “For what?”
His eyes were so beautiful. For a second she wondered what he’d look like with contacts, but then dismissed it. She kind of liked having her very own Clark Kent—the hottie in disguise.
Her eyes widened.
“What? What is it? Are you okay?” He looked so worried, he held her so tight, she sighed with happiness knowing that he had her. Physically and emotionally, she was so very safe with this guy. All her worries and fears were starting to feel ridiculous around Darren.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just got excited about a new series of paintings I’m going to work on when I get back.”
“Oh yeah?”
She nodded. Should she tell him her ideas about the undercover lover series? No, she’d surprise him with it for his birthday. “I’ll tell you about that later. First, I need to apologize. I’m so sorry I pushed you away, and I’m so grateful that you stuck with me and that you didn’t give up and—”
He cut her off with a kiss. When he pulled back, he cupped her face in his hands, his brows drawn down in a super serious expression. “I get it, Sarah. I really do.”
For some reason his use of her real name made her shiver. But not in a bad way. It felt good, it felt right. Maybe it was time she embraced Sarah again. She could be both Sarah and Yvette—strong and vulnerable. With Darren she could do both. “But I need to explain,” she said.
“Later.” He sounded so sure, so confident. “But I think I get it. You were hurt before.”
She nodded. How did he know? She supposed maybe it was obvious.
“I don’t know if I’d want to fall in love again if I got hurt.”
He looked so serious, so thoughtful, she went up on tiptoes to kiss those frowning lips. She met his gaze and held it. “I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep from hurting you.” She thought of the way she’d been pushing him away. “Any more than I already have, I mean.”
His smile was slow and filled with amusement, but his words were serious. “I’d appreciate that.” He squeezed her hands in his. “And I solemnly vow to protect your heart as well. I promise that I will do my best to make you happy and I hope I never hurt you in any way.”
She nodded, too choked up for words. Hopes and trying were the best they could do. There was only so much anyone could guarantee about the future. The rest came down to faith, and hope, and love.
Oh good Lord, Sarah was a cheeseball. Which might be kind of perfect, because so was Darren.
“What are you laughing about?” he asked, leaning down to nuzzle her neck as she snuggled up against him.
“I was just thinking about what a surprise you turned out to be.” She pulled her head back slightly so she could see him. “You know, for a numbers guy, you are quite the romantic.”
His eyes widened. “I know, right? It’s shocking, really.”
She laughed at his honesty. “To think, under these suits and glasses beats the heart of a poet.”
He let out a snort of disgusted amusement. “Don’t tell anyone, please.” He arched his brows.
She smiled up at him. “It’s our little secret.”
She was rewarded with a kiss. Should she tell him that Kat had figured it out ages ago? Nah, better let the nerd have his pride. Tilting her head toward the rest of the house where his family was waiting, she asked, “Do you think we should head back?”
His frown of disappointment was satisfying. “I suppose.”
He made no move to leave.
Her heart did a crazy leap in her chest as the reality of what she’d done swept over her. To her surprise, excitement and joy led the way in the emotional struggle for supremacy with fear lagging far behind.
She had plans to kick that fear firmly in the ass.
For now, she would revel in the fact that she’d taken the first step. She’d said the L-word and made a commitment. She glanced up at him. At least, she thought she had.
Now it was her turn to frown. “Wait, so this means we’re a couple, right?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Of course. I’m not letting you go, Sarah. Not now, not ever.”
Her smile was so broad it hurt her cheeks, but she was all right with that. She was trapped. Committed. It was her deepest, darkest fear come to life.
And holy shit, it felt so good.
Thank you for reading Passion for Players! If you enjoyed it, reviews are always greatly appreciated. If you’d like to stay up to date on Maggie’s new releases, join her monthly newsletter and receive a FREE, exclusive novella, Heiress at Sea, when you sign up here: https://www.instafreebie.com/free/n6uux
Ready for Caleb and Kennedy’s love story? You can find it here: Desire for Days.
Keep reading for a free sample of their book!
Want more steamy romantic comedies? Check out the Starting from Zero series. Click on the links below for three standalone sexy romantic comedies about fresh starts and new beginnings.
Less Than Three: What’s worse than butt dialing the man who could make or break your career? Accidentally sleeping with him.
Love Times Two: It's a double wedding disaster when Elizabeth finds out her fiancé cheated on her just before the TV crews arrive to document the bridal preparations for a reality show. Luckily, her sister found a replacement groom...who just happens to be the same guy whose bed she woke up in after a night of drowning her sorrows.
The Plus One: First they were best friends. Then they were enemies. Now they’re lovers. And all because of one night of drunken karaoke.
Desire for Days
Sexy in Spades Series
Chapter 1
The red paper hearts strung up behind Caleb’s head made him want to vomit.
Fuck Valentine’s Day.
He shouldn’t have come to this party. The beer was flat, he was days away from losing his starring role on a daytime drama, and he was just as single today as he was every other day of the year.
Also, his face itched.
He scratched at his beard, cursing it under his breath. There were so many reasons why Caleb did not want to be at a Valentine’s Day party, even if it was an anti-Valentine’s Day party. The problem was, he and his best friends Kat and Yvette had started this tradition in college. Back then they’d all been single and bitter. Now, nearly ten years later, he was the only one who was still single, and definitely the only bitter one now that his besties were in love.
Granted, his best friends only found their significant others within the past few months but that didn’t help the fact that he felt like he’d been left behind.
Not since grade school had he felt this particularly keen sense of rejection. Back then it had been in gym class, but tonight, sitting in a booth at their favorite dive bar, he had a strange sense of déjà vu. Why did no one pick him?
He turned to Yvette who was sitting beside him and asked her. His artist friend was refreshingly blunt. If anyone could help clue him in to what he was doing wrong with his life, it was her. “Yve, why does no one pick me?”
She wrinkled her nose up as she stared at him. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Too much,” he said, polishing off his beer. “Also, not enough.”
She nodded as if he’d said something wise. Then she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Dufus, you know that women pick you all the time, right?”
Only Yvette called him names while giving him pep talks. He muttered something noncommittal in response. He knew where she was going with this. It was the same lecture she’d been giving him since college. The one in which he was told that he had to let go of his dream girl fantasies.
She and Kat had been harping on this theme for years, but he never really listened. They didn’t understand. Neither of them were romantics. Well, they hadn’t been until they’d met their current boyfriends. Now they were sappier than he was, but they still gave him shit for his high standards.
“I’m not going to settle,” he said.
He peered at her through narrowed eyes. Nope. It didn’t seem like she was mocking him. “Seriously?”
She grinned as she nodded. “Yeah. Kat and I never said you should settle.”
Uh oh, here it came.
“We’re just saying you should keep your options open. Your dream girl might not be what you imagine.”
See, now this made no sense to him. She and Kat said that sort of shit all the time, and it sounded like jibberish to his ears. If she was his dream girl, then she would be exactly how he dreamt her, wouldn’t she?
He shook his head and turned his attention to the chips on the table. Clearly his best friends did not truly grasp the concept of the one… even if they had found their respective ones.
Still, that didn’t make them experts, now did it?
He frowned at the chips. Maybe it did.
Turning back to Yvette, he told her the real reason behind his drunken misery. “Sheila dumped me.”
Her face fell, honest sympathy replacing her earlier mockery. “Oh, Cal, I’m so sorry.”
He nodded. “Right before V-day, too. That’s just shitty.”
“Agreed.” She squeezed his shoulders again. “But at least you’re at an anti-Valentine’s Day party with other people who also eschew the awfulness of this holiday.”
He gave her a reluctant smile. “Says my friend who’s insanely in love with her new boyfriend.”
Her eyes lit up with happiness that she couldn’t disguise if she’d tried, giving him a twinge of a strange emotion that was somewhere between jealousy and happiness on her behalf. “This is true,” she said slowly, “But just because I’m in love doesn’t mean I have to suddenly think Valentine’s Day is cool.” She arched her brows and gave him a knowing look. “It’s still a shit holiday created by Hallmark.”
He raised his glass to cheers hers. “Amen to that.”
She craned her neck looking around at the crowd.
“Trying to find Darren?” he asked. Darren was her new boyfriend who seemed to be permanently attached to her hip, which would be annoying if Caleb didn’t like him so much. Plus, he made her happy so he would have been cool with it even if he didn’t like the finance dork.
She shook her head. “Nah, I’m checking out options for you. This place is crawling with women who would love to have a hot night with Doctor Hottie.”
He laughed despite himself. Doctor Hottie was the nickname she and Kat had given his character on the show. It had struck them both as marvelously ridiculous when he’d been cast as a surgeon at the age of nineteen.
“Thanks,” he said, “But I doubt I’m going to find a new girlfriend at an anti-romance party.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe not, but maybe it’s time you take a break from looking for your perfect dream girl and have some fun for a while.” She gestured around the crowd. “Any woman here would be psyched to snag the attention of the sexy stud who plays a doctor on TV. So go, pick one, and have some fun, for crying out loud.”
He sighed as he settled back in his seat. This was also not a new speech. Yvette had been trying to get him to loosen up when it came to dating ever since they’d first met.
“Come on, Caleb. It’s a new year, a new look—” She reached out and tugged on his beard, which brought his attention back to how itchy the stupid thing was. “It’s the dawn of a whole new Caleb.”
He stared off into the crowd. She had no idea how right she was. He had yet to tell his friends that his character was about to be killed off. After more than nine years of playing a lead role that had earned him a daytime Emmy and countless rabid fans, his character was being unceremoniously axed from the show.
They didn’t even let him go out with his dignity intact. His character, Dr. Brandon Reeves, goes stark raving mad—hence, the beard—and is shot by police as he’s about to murder the show’s newest starlet.
After three marriages, more affairs than he could count, a career as a world-famous surgeon, and after rebounding from amnesia, a coma, and an evil twin, he would leave the show a failed psychotic murderer.
No, a failed murderer with a beard.
The brutal humiliation of his exit was what really killed him.
No, that wasn’t true. The fact that he would be turning thirty without a job and without a girlfriend was what had him feeling so sorry for himself tonight.
Yvette nudged him with her elbow. “Come on, snap out of it, dweeb.” She waved a hand at the crowd in general as if offering them all up for his approval. “There are a ton of single chicks here tonight. Pick one and have some fun for once.”
He bit back a sigh. He so was not in the mood for fun. He scratched his face. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to head out early. I don’t want to be the buzzkill.”
Yvette looked stricken—likely because this was the first time he’d ever left a party before midnight. Or dawn. Caleb, like Yvette, loved to party.
Just not tonight.
She gripped his arm. “But—but, look at all the women.”
He did look and what he saw made him infinitely more depressed. “I know pretty much every woman here.” He’d either dated them or ruled them out as a possibility. Some days he felt like he’d dated or ruled out every woman in New York.
Not that he was a player or anything, he was what Kat liked to call a serial monogamist. Each and every relationship began with the same high hopes, and each one ended with the same devastating realization that he had not found her.
His one.
And yes, he knew how cheesy that was and how rare it was for a guy to be so invested in the idea of the one. Most men he knew weren’t great romantics—well, not until Kat and Yvette had brought Bryce and Darren into his life. In them he’d found true male compatriots. Men who believed in love at first sight and soulmates and all that crap.
Thank God his jaded best friends had found guys like that. But when the hell would it be his turn?
Turning to Yvette, he went to give her a hug goodbye but she was in the midst of pointing someone out to him and her finger poked his face. Her fingernail stabbed his cheekbone and he was pretty sure she’d drawn blood.
Now his face stung as well as itched.
Neat.
She winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s all good.”
She clung to his arm. “I was just trying to point out that girl over there talking to Kat. Look!”
He looked.
“She’s new,” she said, excitement in her voice. Apparently she too had realized that this crowd was pretty much an exact replica of every party they’d ever thrown.
Except for that chick, who was, in fact, new.
She was also hot.
Tall and thin, she had long black curly hair and sharp features that had a hint of the exotic about them. Her lipstick was a vivid red, the only splash of color in an otherwise black and white look.
Even her outfit was black and white. Black pants, black top, white shoes. Classic but not exactly sexy. She looked like she could be headed to a business casual lunch, especially compared to all the women around her sporting cute dresses in varying shades of red and pink.
Fuck Valentine’s Day. Her outfit seemed to say what he’d been thinking all night.
He grinned, but unfortunately Yvette seemed to take that as encouragement. “You like her? I’ll go introduce you.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“No, but Kat does. We’ll have her introduce you.” Yvette’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Ooh, we’ll have her introduce you as Doctor Hottie. She’ll totally dig the fact that you’re a big time actor.”
His stomach plummeted at her well-intentioned comment. He really needed to tell them that he’d lost his cushy gig. But that would mean facing the fact that he had no idea what he was going to do with his life after Monday when he filmed his last scene.
A death scene. With a beard.
God, what had his life become?
“Come on.�
�� Yvette tugged at his arm but he resisted her.
He was so not in the mood to flirt or try to summon up some witty banter. Especially not with a woman who was clearly not the one.
How did he know she wasn’t the one? He just knew. There was something harsh about her, he could tell that even from a distance. While her lips were hot—plump and a sexy shade of red—they were quirked up in a smirk at something Kat said.
It wasn’t a pleasant smirk. It was hard and cold, like she was jaded or pissed. Probably both. They were at an anti-Valentine’s Day party, after all. He was pretty sure everyone here fell into the jaded category, himself included.
But his dream woman was not jaded, nor angry. She was sweet and kind and loving.
And as of now, she was firmly a figment of his imagination.
“I’ve got to go, Yve.”
She started to protest again. “She’s getting away!”
It was true, the mystery woman was walking away from Kat but Yvette’s exclamation was a touch too melodramatic even for him. “It’s okay, Yve, I think we can let her escape our evil clutches for tonight.” He reached for his coat. “I’m heading home.”
He ignored her whining and her pleading. He wasn’t trying to be an ass. On the contrary, this was for in her best interests, and Kat’s. His two best friends finally had true love on this romantic holiday, which he secretly loved. Or rather, he would love it if he ever had a love to share it with.
He cut off Yve’s protests with a peck on the cheek. “Have fun with Darren. Tell Kat to enjoy her night with Bryce. I’ll catch up with you guys at brunch.”
Brunch was their thing. They’d been doing it every Sunday since freshman year of college and not even new relationships stood between them and their weekly mimosas. Or bloody marys. Or whatever alcoholic beverage they chose to partake.
And there were always alcoholic beverages to be partaken.
Yve winced.
“What?”
“We can’t do brunch this weekend.”
He blinked as his brain attempted to register this news. “What? Why not?” He’d been planning on spilling his bad news at this particular brunch. He’d been oddly looking forward to it—the purging of his bad news, combined with the soothing bliss of day drinking and his best friends’ encouraging words. “No brunch?”
Passion for Players Page 13
