The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  She laid her head against his chest and sighed again. He simply held her, breathed in her sweet, slightly exotic scent, basked in her warmth. Other passersby made sure to scoff or snort or roll their eyes. One kid even told them to ‘get a room’.

  Frankie pulled back, but Xavier held on. If she wanted to stay like this all day, he had nowhere he’d rather be. The rest of the world could go to hell.

  Her fingers moved over his chest. “Do you know the history of this building?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Some of the greatest authors in all of American literature were published in this building.” Her head tipped back, her neck stretched. Her eyes moved over the high ceilings and tall walls. “Just being here humbles me.”

  He knew how she felt, but his humility had everything to do with the woman in his arms and nothing to do with the history of the building they stood in.

  “Do you read, X?”

  He laughed. “Nope, not unless it’s a Sports Illustrated or something like that.”

  “Oh, come on, you’ve never read Dickens or Emerson or Hawthorne?” Her raised brow and quirked lip made him laugh harder.

  “Of course I’ve read them. I did graduate high school.” He flattened his hand against the small of her back, urging her soft body against his hard one. “I just have other things I prefer to do with my time.”

  Instead of melting at his words, she stiffened. She stepped out of his hold, pretending total nonchalance and failing miserably. He should have known his suggestive remark would take her to an unwelcome place, should have known she would think of the other women haunting her from his past. But he’d only been thinking of her, and what he preferred to do with her.

  She took three steps toward the door and stopped. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. She turned around, her lips tight. Another deep breath. He would love to be a mind reader, because, right now, her silence flayed him.

  With timid footsteps she walked back up to him and took his hand in hers. Her attempt at a smile broke his heart. “It seems there are ghosts here after all.”

  He threaded his fingers through hers and had her back out on the street between one breath and the next. If he thought his feelings for her unnerved him, he’d been wrong. This was worse. Her silence flat-out, hands-down scared the hell out of him.

  They walked through the streets in an irritating quiet, making him want to scream at the top of his lungs, just to break the ice frozen around them.

  As they neared Faneuil Hall, a street performer approached. He plucked his tri-cone hat from his head and bowed low in front of Frankie. “Welcome, my lady.”

  She let go of Xavier’s hand to lift pretend skirts so she could drop into a curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.”

  He didn’t look at Xavier and now that the guy had Frankie’s full attention, he took her hand to kiss her knuckles. A blush shot into her cheeks, her lashes lowered demurely.

  “And what be thy name, beautiful lady?”

  Really? Seriously? She’s buying this crap?

  “Fr- Frankie.”

  Apparently she bought it hook, line, and sinker.

  Mr. Charmer smiled and put his hat back on his head, but he seemed to jump into the twenty-first century. “I’m Jake. Are you here long? Maybe we could—”

  “She’s with me.”

  Frankie’s eyes shot to him as if she’d forgotten he stood in the vicinity. Hell, she’d probably forgotten he still existed in the frickin’ state.

  “Oh sorry.” Jake stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t realize you were with someone.”

  Yeah, ’cause women walk around holding the hand of totally random guys. Nice try, asshole.

  As Jake walked away to approach a family, Frankie faced him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s really not. Although I’m not really with you with you, we are together seeing the sights today. I shouldn’t have acted that way.” She shook her head. “I don’t really have a lot of experience with flirting.”

  “Oh, come on, Doc. I don’t buy that.” He initiated a slow stroll and she followed suit. “He was right. You are a beautiful woman. Which means you have to get hit on all the time. Hell, I’ve seen the guys do it in the locker room.”

  “That’s different. The guys don’t really mean anything by it. They can’t help themselves. Probably because I blush like a lobster anytime they tease me. But I don’t get hit on. Not by real guys.”

  She couldn’t be that naïve. It had to be an act. Except he’d seen the way she fended off the guys on the team with a blush and an eye roll. He’d assumed she really wasn’t interested in mixing business and pleasure.

  “Let me ask you this: has a guy ever asked you about your melons in the grocery store?”

  “Sure. All the time.”

  Xavier laughed. “He was hitting on you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Has a guy ever asked to buy you a drink?”

  “Of cour—Oh! I thought they were just being nice.”

  Xavier shook his head. As much as it pained him to even think it, maybe it was a good thing she had Christian to keep the letches away from her.

  He’d protected her from the cretins last night and it thrilled him to do it the rest of their trip.

  He grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s go shopping.”

  “Okay.” She skipped to catch up with him. “I like to shop, but don’t get much time to do it.”

  “Well, today is your lucky day because we have hours to kill and shops galore.”

  They walked into the marketplace and the buzz of people thrummed in Xavier’s blood. Frankie approached a booth full of nothing but hats. She took a tri-cone from the rack and put it on his head.

  “You look very handsome, sir.”

  He laughed and took a plain white nightcap looking thing, plopping it on her head. The elastic snapped over one ear, sitting totally lopsided. She reached up to straighten it and burst out in giggles. She looked ridiculous, like she had a cotton ball on top of her head.

  “Would you like a picture?” A random tourist stopped and smiled.

  Frankie grinned and handed the woman her phone. “We’d love one.”

  Xavier wasn’t so sure about having evidence of the absurdity, but if that’s what Frankie wanted, he’d happily oblige. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into him. They both smiled and, after a flash, the woman handed over Frankie’s phone.

  “I am so putting that online.”

  “Oh no, you don’t.”

  Frankie frowned. “What? You don’t wanna be seen with me?”

  “No, I don’t want anything that makes me look like an idiot floating around the World Wide Web.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You take life too seriously, X. If you can’t laugh at yourself, you are missing out on a lot of funny stuff.”

  He whipped the hat off his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means—” She took her bonnet thingy off and placed it back on the rack. “—I laugh more at myself than at anybody else. I’m constantly doing dumb things that if I didn’t laugh, I’d probably have to cry. Or hit something,” she added pointedly.

  “Got it.” Yeah, he understood alright. He did tend to take life too seriously. He’d spent so much time having people laugh at him, he’d never learned to laugh with them.

  * * *

  Frankie yawned and leaned against the wall of the elevator. She and Xavier had done the entire Freedom Trail and, although she’d had the time of her life, exhaustion covered her like a cloak.

  The plan for the rest of the night consisted of a nice hot shower then sliding into the soft bed and passing out cold. She couldn’t let her thoughts drift to who would be sleeping next to her in the big, soft bed.

  Her stomach bubbled with butterflies and her heart thumped a little harder.

  The more time she spent with Xavier, the more intense her feelings became. Even i
n the moments where he’d been frustrated or ornery or … jealous—her heart stuttered again—she’d savored their time together. For however long they had.

  She yawned.

  “Tired?”

  “Yeah.”

  Xavier put a hand over his own mouth to cover his jaw-cracking yawn. “Me, too. Are you hungry?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “We totally pigged out today. I may not eat for a week.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Xavier held out his hand, she slipped her fingers through his as they headed down the hall.

  “I had a really great time today, Doc.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” She leaned into him. “Thanks for showing me the sights.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for showing me it’s okay to laugh at myself. Turns out I’m kind of a funny guy.”

  Xavier wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but he survived another night sleeping next to Frankie. She hadn’t protested when he’d pulled her against his body. She’d only sighed and snuggled into him. She’d fallen asleep on his chest, a leg over his thigh and neither of them moved. He hadn’t slept. Not a wink. He felt her heart beat in harmony with his. Her breath whispered over his chest, stirring the hair dusting his pecs and he’d wanted to savor every moment.

  A little part of him grieved their time together had come to an end. He didn’t want to leave the hotel room this morning. He’d drug his feet getting through the airport. Now they were on the plane, ready to go up-up-and-away and he wanted to drop onto the floor and throw a tantrum.

  He might have if she hadn’t been so distant. When Frankie woke up this morning, she hadn’t offered a good morning kiss. She hadn’t even said the words. She’d only carefully snuck out of the bed and into the bathroom.

  Three damn words. That’s all she’d muttered this morning. Yes. No. Thank you. Okay, so maybe technically four words.

  Dammit!

  Last night, while she slept, he’d wondered how their goodbye at the airport would go. Would she cry? Would he ask her to come home with him? Would they say to hell with their worries and problems and continue living in the moment … forever? Apparently not.

  He’d stewed and planned, and it’d been for nothing. She’d made plans of her own when it came to their future. And those plans didn’t include him. So what.

  He didn’t need her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

  Xavier glanced from where he sat on the bench outside the PT suite and shook his head at Grayson. Jeff had pushed him through his exercises. Xavier put a hand on his shoulder. “Nah. Just sore.”

  Grayson smiled, clearly recognizing the lie. No way in hell Xavier would ever admit to being sore. “Not too sore to hit the gym for a bit, I hope.”

  Xavier wanted to get in the gym and start putting his muscles to use. He needed to put some bulk back on. Who was he kidding? He really needed to get his head back on his shoulders, and his heart off his sleeve and back into chest where it could go dormant again.

  Xavier rubbed at his shoulder and dropped his gaze to the floor. “As much as I’d love to … I’m not sure—”

  “I talked to Frankie, she said you can work out as long as you’re careful. I’m to watch your weight limits and not leave you alone.” He grinned and when he spoke next his voice had jumped an octave, “Even for a second.”

  Xavier laughed. “Great impression.”

  Frankie usually turned fiercely protective of those she cared about. The thought gave him hope. Since their return from Boston, she’d avoided him, turning over his therapy to Jeff. When Xavier did get a second to talk to her, her responses were clipped, her body tense.

  Whatever! he’d told himself.

  “Come on. Let’s hit the gym for a few minutes.” Grayson headed down the hall. “Oh, and Jane asked me to bring you home for dinner.”

  “Like some kind of stray dog?”

  “No. Like some guy who needs a good woman to take care of him.”

  Xavier snorted. “There’s no such thing.”

  Grayson glanced at him from under his lowered brows. “What about Frankie?”

  “What about her?” He hoped his face didn’t register the excitement and panic that struck him whenever he thought of her.

  “You gonna stand there and tell me that after spending a weekend with Frankie, you still feel nothing for her?”

  Xavier’s entire body tensed, ready to pounce. He stalked up to Grayson, getting right in the face of his best friend. “What I feel—or don’t feel—for her is none of your damn business!”

  Grayson nodded. “Fair enough. But you should knock that enormous chip off your shoulder and at least make it her business.”

  Xavier used his chest to shove Grayson out of his way. He stomped into the gym and went right over to the weight bench. Of course Grayson was right. Xavier did have a chip on his shoulder, but it’d been there a long time and had grown to epic proportions. Every woman he’d ever known, especially the ones he opened his heart to, let him down, starting with the woman who’d given birth to him.

  Xavier shook his head. He was so not yanking those skeletons out right now. He slammed the door on his mental closet and locked the frickin’ thing, throwing the key to recesses unknown. No way would he consider the possibility of Frankie deciding to join the very crowded category of women.

  She hadn’t. She wouldn’t. Not his Frankie. No matter how shitty he’d been to her, she’d stuck by his side.

  The distance she’d put between them smacked of leave-me-alone, and Xavier could take a hint. They’d agreed on temporary and that’s exactly what he’d gotten. He’d allowed the distance, feeling it like a chunk of dry ice in the pit of his stomach. ’Cause really … like he had a choice.

  He threw himself into his workout, and although Grayson said nothing, he stayed close, shaking his head if Xavier tried to use too much weight. Time passed and muscles burned and he savored the cool comfort of being in his element. There wasn’t much weight on the bar he heaved above his head, but his body didn’t seem to realize it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down into his sideburns.

  Three. Two. And one.

  The weight bar clanked back into place. Xavier lay on the bench for a few seconds. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? This short, nearly weightless, workout had kicked his ass. Discouraged, yet not defeated, he wiped a hand over his brow.

  A towel landed on his abs and he opened his eyes to see Grayson smiling. “You just gonna lay there all night?”

  “Funny.” Xavier stood and used the towel to wipe his face before running the terrycloth over the bench.

  Grayson laughed. “Get up, Old Man. We have a party to get to and I’m starvin’.”

  * * *

  As Grayson and Xavier walked side by side through the parking lot, a couple of girls hurried to catch them. They wore Rockets t-shirts, and Xavier found himself wondering whose name spanned their shoulder blades. In his younger days, it’d been a big deal when some chick chose to wear another guy’s name. Not that he felt any kind of possession. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt possessive of any woman. Except Frankie.

  “Are you Xavier?” The girls giggled and Xavier rolled his eyes.

  Grayson chuckled and patted Xavier on the shoulder. “I’ll meet you at my house. Don’t take too long or you’ll have Emma hounding your ass.”

  As Grayson walked off, one of the girls cocked her head. “Who’s Emma?”

  “A very special girl.” He flashed a smile he didn’t feel. “I’ve gotta get on the road. What can I do for you?”

  More giggles bounced through the air, grating on his nerves worse than nails on a chalkboard. The girls turned around to show off his name on their backs, and he felt … nothing.

  “Will you sign our shirts?” They even supplied the Sharpie.

  He did a quick swish and sign.

  “Can we get a picture, too?” the other girl asked, brandishing
a camera.

  * * *

  Frankie’s heart leaped into her throat. Xavier stood in the parking lot near his car with his arm around a girl. A very young, barely beyond jailbait girl. Her friend held up the camera and insisted she cuddle closer into his side.

  That he only posed for a picture didn’t stop the clawing jealousy from shredding her insides. She stepped back into the shadows, hoping she wouldn’t be seen.

  She’d succeeded with keeping her distance pretty well since returning from Boston. Even as every part of her urged her to seek him out, to finish what they’d started, like a chicken, she avoided him. She’d promised herself she would put distance between them.

  She’d told herself it would be best to stay away from him. Yeah, she was a big, fat, liar-liar. She couldn’t bear to be anywhere near him because she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.

  The two girls giggled while they traded places. Xavier added his signature just above the block letters of his name on her back then smiled and posed for another picture.

  Frankie reminded herself shirts like theirs could be purchased anywhere and didn’t mean anything. But knowing didn’t stifle the desire to rip them off the little groupies’ bodies.

  She watched the photo shoot come to an end and the girls walk away. She breathed a sigh of relief until one of the girls hollered over her shoulder, “Have fun with Emma. She’s a very lucky girl.”

  Frankie’s chest constricted around her heart and lungs. Tears prickled in her eyes. She’d been kidding herself when she thought letting him go and moving on with her life would be easy. She’d even convinced herself seeing him every day wouldn’t matter. She’d been such a fool.

  Xavier chuckled and offered a final wave before sliding down into the driver’s seat of his jet-black sportscar. The engine growled to life, deep and menacing like an animal about to be unleashed. The growl intensified to a roar and gravel arced from the sudden spin of the tires.

  Frankie blinked to keep her tears at bay. She didn’t want to leave the job she loved, but seeing him every day wasn’t an option either. Hearing his voice echoing through the corridor or having his file cross her desk or catching a whiff of his cologne in the hallway drove her to the verge of crying every time.