Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

“I fucked up.”

  “I get that. Again. But I’ve never seen you lose it in a game like that before.”

  “I got…distracted.”

  “By what?”

  I cut my eyes to him before I wiped the sweat from my face with a towel.

  “Um, Rory?” Warren pointed behind me toward the hallway entrance. “Towel boy says there is a redhead outside asking for you?”

  Gage shifted his weight. “Do not fucking tell me that is Paige out there.” He pointed a meaty finger at the door, his massive gun flexing more than necessary.

  Shit. “It could be any redhead.”

  Gage’s jaw flexed. “Is it Bailey’s redhead?”

  I patted my bare chest with the towel, chuckling. “Technically she’s my redhead now.”

  He raked his fingers through his black hair, spinning so his back was toward me. “What the fuck are you doing, man?”

  “At least it’s not your nanny,” Warren snorted, and I hissed. The look Gage flashed him was so not one I’d ever want shot at me. Warren raised his hands and backed away slowly.

  “Explain,” Gage said, looking at me.

  I shrugged. “Paige and I—”

  “How is that even the start of a sentence for you?” Gage cut me off. “You don’t ever do, and I’s.”

  “I do now.” Damn, I sounded defensive even to me.

  His eyes trailed me for a second before something clicked and he burst out laughing.

  “What?” I snapped after two minutes of straight laughing from him.

  “You are so fucked, man.”

  “How so?”

  “You’ve got it bad. And for that woman? You know who she is right? Like, you know—”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “And you know if you fuck this up it won’t just be you who takes the hit in the press. It’ll be on her, too.”

  “Aware.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. “I hope you know what you’re doing, bro. Because I swear if you hurt Bailey’s best friend, she’ll kill me just for being associated with you.”

  “Got it. If I fuck up with Paige, there will be an entire mob of people coming after me. Check. Anything else, Dad?”

  He slit his eyes at me. “Yeah.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Do yourself a favor and don’t fuck it up. Not for everyone else, but for you.”

  I smirked up at him, opening my arms. “You want to hug this shit out, man?”

  He punched me in the chest before flipping me off and walking toward the showers. I was covered in sweat and grime, but I didn’t want to keep her waiting outside the locker room door. Pushing it open, I found her leaning casually against the wall next to it. The tight jeans she wore tucked into a pair of flat, black leather boots only made her look that much more fuckable in my jersey. A slew of other puck bunnies hollered for me from across the hallway, but I only had eyes for one woman. That had never happened.

  “You called?” I asked, my tone sharp from the bullshit of the game and locker room ambush.

  She straightened, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I wanted to see if you’d be up for dinner after you were done in there?” She eyed the locker room. “Thought you might want to talk about the game.”

  A muscle in my jaw clenched as I gritted my teeth.

  “Or not,” she said. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have come.” She turned and took several steps away from me. It only took one quick reach to grab her and pull her back.

  “Don’t. I’m just pissed about the game.”

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice soft.

  I rolled my eyes. “Fucking question of the day and you’re the answer.”

  Her mouth popped into the shape of an O. “What?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Who was that guy talking to you?”

  She tilted her head, her eyes shifting from me to the side and back again. “You were watching me?”

  “I looked up. You were there. So was he.”

  “Wow. I honestly didn’t think there was a thing that could tear your mind from the game. I wouldn’t have come.” She shook her head. “Thanks for blaming me though.” She spun around again, stomping with more determination toward the exit.

  I had to jog to catch up to her. “Stop.”

  She jerked out from under my touch. “No, you stop! Don’t you get it?” She touched the center of my chest; her fingers cool against the Under Armour t-shirt I had on over my still heated skin. “This?” she smacked my chest. “Right here? This anger you carry around with you every single place you go? That’s the root of every single problem in your life. It’s the reason why you need me in the first place.”

  I kept my jaw locked, the adrenaline from the game, her words, fucking all of it surged with no place to unleash.

  “And the guy I was talking to?”

  My fist clenched, shaking at my side despite knowing I had no reason to be this jealous. Sure, we had a contract that said she was mine for three months, but it wasn’t real. None of it was.

  “He’s worked at my company for a decade. I spotted him and asked how his daughter was doing.” Her eyes dropped to where my fist hung, and she traced her fingertips over it. “Rory you’re shaking.”

  “Game. Adrenaline.” I grunted the words out like a fucking caveman.

  She didn’t buy it for a second, those sharp green eyes not missing one piece of myself that I tried to keep buried underneath the rage. Stepping closer, she moved my fist to the small of her back, slipping her arms around my neck as she reached up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against mine.

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t. A battle raged inside me. One where I knew I was starting to care about this woman way more than I should. Better, safer to walk away from it all right now. Tear up the contract and ice my body for a few months to recover from the flames that licked my skin whenever she was close.

  “Rory,” she sighed name, the tips of her breasts barely grazing my chest as she tried to kiss me again.

  “I’m all sweaty.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “People can see,” I managed to say, my muscles unlocking a fraction of an inch as I thought about the crowd of bunnies and reporters just on the other side of the hall.

  “Let them.”

  Those two words, paired with the intensity in her green eyes, broke down whatever gate had held me frozen. I gripped her hips and pressed her against the wall, slanting my mouth over hers. She gasped but opened up for me, tilting her head backward to give me a better angle to stroke her mouth more deeply. Our tongues rubbed and rolled as I fused the only parts of us that our very public location would allow.

  Fuck she tasted delicious, and the feel of her body, soft and pliant beneath mine turned the rage in my blood to pure need.

  “Rory!” I jolted out of our embrace at the sound of Gage’s voice.

  “Fuck!” I screamed. “Next person who yells my name like that is getting punched in the fucking throat!”

  Gage rounded the corner. “Hi Paige,” he said in the tone he only reserved for ladies. “Asshole, coach wants you.”

  I nodded. “Perfect. Like chewing me out in front of the team wasn’t enough, now I get to have the private office lecture.”

  Paige hissed, squeezing my fingers. “Is that worse?”

  Gage nodded, and I flipped him off. “I’ll see you after?” I asked Paige.

  “I’ll be here.” She smiled up at me, the flush in her cheeks still warm from our kiss.

  Gage sighed so loud I’m sure his daughter heard it back home. I walked passed him, ignoring his damn near motherly look of concern as I made my way to the locker room, passing a line of high-maintenance puck bunnies.

  “Who is the new bunny?” Linda asked just as I jerked open the door. I clenched my eyes shut and tilted my head toward the ceiling as if asking God why tonight?

  I had no one to blame but myself. Dip your dick in crazy twice, shame on you…

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” I
said, letting the door shut, revealing where she leaned in the same spot Paige had been not minutes ago. Coach would be pissed I kept him waiting, but I needed to clear this up before it got out of hand. “She’s not a bunny,” I continued. “Her name is Paige and she’s my…” I swallowed hard. “Girlfriend.”

  Linda’s eyes flew wide as she pressed off the wall. “You don’t do girlfriends.”

  I squinted at the blonde. “You’ve got no idea what I do.”

  “Don’t I?” She reached out to touch me, and I backed away, my hand on the locker room handle like it was a safety net.

  “You really don’t.” I sighed, not wanting to be a complete dick. “Look, Linda. It was over a year ago. And it was nice, but people change.”

  “People like you never change, Rory. You’re a player. You like variety. I like to provide a flavor on a rotation.”

  I shook my head. “Not going to happen. Ever. Again. I’ve tried to explain that to you numerous times. Don’t make me have this conversation again.” I jerked open the door and let it swing shut behind me.

  I sighed as I walked toward coach’s office. Who knew being someone’s sex-toy for a few months could cause such trouble.

  Chapter 8

  Paige

  “Where did you disappear to?” My father asked, walking with his hands clasped behind his back as we made our weekly walk through the production floors.

  He’d been raving about the success of the employee appreciation event, and I hadn’t for a second thought he’d noticed my short absence there when I’d followed Rory to his car to collect our freshly signed contract. I swallowed hard.

  “What do you mean?” Damn. It didn’t matter if I was twenty-eight—when my father got dangerously close to exposing a secret of mine, I was sixteen again, denying his accusations of smelling pot in my bedroom. Jeannine’s doing, of course.

  “You disappeared for a short time after the winner of your raffle was announced. Was there a problem between some our guests that had to be handled privately?”

  I sighed. If the problem was Rory’s ability to get me wet with a glance, then yes, absolutely there had been an issue between the guests. “Something like that. Nothing to worry over. I returned as quickly as I was able. The event proceeded without a hitch.”

  “Did you have to keep it a secret?”

  I froze in my tracks outside one of the think-tank rooms which held a handful of our top inventors dreaming up new lines of products for future production.

  He noticed my lack of presence at his side after a few moments and backtracked to me. “Honestly, Paige, I thought we were beyond that.”

  What the hell did he know? I thought about the contract, nestled safely inside my private vault at home. There was no way he’d ever find it. Unless Rory had told someone…

  “The secret raffle you held without running it by me first?”

  I sighed audibly and straightened myself. “Oh—”

  “Good Lord, what did you think I spoke of? You’re as white as a sheet.”

  “Nothing. I didn’t know I needed your approval to hold a raffle. If you don’t agree with the use of funds, I’d be happy to replace them from my personal account.”

  He smiled and gently clutched my shoulder. “No, of course, you don’t have to run things by me. I would’ve preferred a heads up though. If only to prep the reporter from the Seattle Times who covered the event. He asked for my comment on it, and I had to hustle for words.”

  “Well, you’re used to that.” I chuckled in an attempt to shake off the panic still clinging to my insides.

  “True, but do try and tell me next time.”

  “Of course.” And in two and a half months he wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing—well, he would, but it wouldn’t be an obligation on my part.

  “You changed that woman’s life, you know?”

  I pressed my lips together, recalling the tears in her eyes when she’d opened the white envelope containing the check I’d made out to her on the company’s behalf. The twelve thousand wasn’t a blip in the account we held strictly for charitable organizations and morale booster funds for our employees—but it had made an impact on her and her family.

  “She won’t have to return to the shelter for quite some time.” I placed my hand on the knob to the think-tank room.

  “That’s my Paige. Saving one hungry soul at a time.”

  “You make it all possible.”

  “Nonsense. I never handed you your position or the foresight to use it for good in such ways that you do. I wish I could take credit for it. Honestly, I do, but you’ve carved out this path for yourself. Earned it, every step of the way.”

  My chest swelled with pride as it always did when I received confirmation for making my father proud—one of my life’s ambitions since birth. My aspirations had taken on a new role several years back when I realized the power, I’d have once my father retired—and in that realization, my shelter idea was born. It was so close to fruition. I’d had plans drawn up for the first building and was actively seeking the perfect location.

  Now I just had to make sure and not ruin everything.

  I pushed open the door, startling a few of the inventors who crowded around a table in the center of the room, touch pad screens and stylus’ spread across it. Several computer monitors had graphic designs of what looked to be a new version of the exersaucer—though from the looks of it the item was more complex than the simple entertainment-containment we sold now. My thoughts drifted to Bailey—Lettie would be too big for such a contraption—but the baby on the way? It could be the perfect present. I blinked away the thoughts, smiling as I knew the item wouldn’t be in production for at least a year if it ever cleared the board. Still, always good to keep an eye out for my favorite mother to be.

  We talked shop for several minutes, listening to the inventor’s frustrations with locking mechanisms and educational tools capable of insertion in the materials available. After a good round of reassurance and encouragement from my father and myself, we left them to their work, and with the promise they had our every confidence.

  Something my father taught me long before I ever considered taking a business course—employees are the lifeblood of the corporation. Without them, everything falls apart. Ensuring our faith in them and handing out credit where it was due was as much a part of our company’s success as the products we sold.

  “I’m eager to see that one in production.” He said as we walked the halls again.

  “Me as well. It’ll be a new wave of educational toys combined with the safety of the child using it.”

  “I wonder when you’ll get to purchase one for yourself.”

  I choked on my own tongue.

  Dad laughed and raised his hands in defense. “Sorry. Your mother won’t stop moping about no grandchildren on the horizon.”

  I scoffed. It’s not like I didn’t want children…someday, but I hadn’t even thought of settling down. Not that I had a man to do it with currently anyway.

  Rory’s face flashed behind my eyelids, and I clenched them shut. Why, heart, why? It had latched onto him in the last few times I’d seen him, growing deeper each time—not love—but hope. Hope for something more.

  Just because he can make you wet in under a minute doesn’t make him your happily ever after.

  But it wasn’t just his incredible sex appeal that spurred the stupid hope—it was the way he’d seemed genuinely interested in learning what I cared about, like showing up at the event and going so far to donate. He was still the bad boy the media painted him to be, but he’d taken an effort in my world to get to know me, and that counted for something.

  Plus, there was the episode at the hockey game. I’d never seen him more flustered in my life, and I’d been watching him play for years. And he credited me for the distraction. That meant something—I just didn’t know if it was good or bad.

  “What about Rory Jackson?” Father interrupted my internal battle.

  “Wha
t about him?”

  “Does he have affections for you?”

  “What would make you say that?”

  “His contribution to the event alone would be enough, but his speech…he specifically singled you out in an effort to please you.” He arched a knowing brow at me, which told me he already knew the truth. Damn. I must’ve missed a picture online of us kissing—no doubt outside the Shark’s locker room. The moment had been so charged, and he’d clearly needed it so badly, I hadn’t thought twice. Guess our fake relationship was now up for public scrutiny, including my father’s.

  “Well, we’re…dating.” The word tasted dry in my mouth. Dating was such a long shot from what we shared. Lovers would be a closer match—but only because lusters wouldn’t sound nearly as proper if I said it out loud.

  “He didn’t shy away from one fan who approached him.” He ignored my verbal attachment to the man completely.

  I nodded.

  “It shocked me. Honestly, when he showed up I was glad for the PR but was terrified he’d cause a scene. The kind of world he lives in…the attention he garners with his short fuse—”

  “Father.” I huffed. I knew his stance on me dating anyone who drew any kind of unwanted attention. I’d known the rules since I was twelve. Maybe that is why I enjoyed breaking them so much.

  “I apologize. It’s a habit. I know you’re a grown woman, Paige. One I couldn’t be more proud of, but you’ll always be my baby girl. And I want your future to soar, not get raked through the muck by tabloid reporters who are begging for you to make a mistake.”

  “Like they do you? That won’t change when I become C.E.O. They’ll watch my every move just as they have yours our whole lives. Who I date shouldn’t matter.” Was I really defending a contracted relationship that was only to benefit each party in different ways? Why did I care so much if my father approved of Rory or not?

  Because he’s a good man and no one gave him near enough credit. The truth rang clear in my mind, and damn it, my heart.

  “You’re right,” he continued. “But pairing yourself with someone who has the same heat on them—more so because of his celebrity-athlete status and a reputation for trouble finding him wherever he goes—you’ll only increase your odds of slipping.”