The Winning Score: A best-friend's-sister, enemies-to-lovers sports romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 4)

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The Winning Score: A best-friend's-sister, enemies-to-lovers sports romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 4) Page 25

by G. K. Brady


  She held up her hand. She didn’t want to hear him confess to kissing her because she’d been handy. The humiliation would simply add one more sad fact onto the heap. “Got it. No explanation necessary.” She rose. “Tonight was the culmination of a series of mistakes. It happens.”

  He shot to his feet, confusion and hurt clouding his expression. “Do you wish tonight hadn’t happened? Not the rock. I’m talking about between us.”

  It occurred to her they were like parts of a train on two different tracks. Her head spun, and she couldn’t untangle the contradictions coming at her, including those forming in her own head. Did she wish the kiss hadn’t happened? No. And yes, because she’d had a taste and wanted more. Did she wish she’d gotten more, that they’d gone farther? Yes. And no. “Look, Sparks. It’s after one I’m tired, you’re tired. Let’s just get some sleep and talk about it after breakfast, okay?” She ignored his crestfallen expression as she ushered him through her door.

  Chapter 26

  How Did I Miss That?

  Sarah woke the next morning shocked to discover it was past ten. When her head had finally hit the pillow in the wee hours, the thoughts chasing their tails in her brain had come to a standstill. Lights out. Surprisingly, she’d gotten a solid seven hours. When was the last time she’d slept so late? And why hadn’t Archer woken her up? As she looked around, she realized it was because he wasn’t there.

  She showered, pulled on last night’s jeans and a T-shirt that read, “I’m Kind of a Big Deal,” and made her way to the kitchen. Quinn sat at the counter, cradling a coffee cup, facing her as she walked down the hallway. At his feet sprawled Archer, without a care in the world. Quinn straightened his hunched shoulders and lifted bleary eyes to hers. His gaze drifted over her chest. The hint of a smile played on his lips. “Good morning, Sunshine—what’s left of it anyway. I was just contemplating rousting your big deal lazy ass.”

  “Did you let Arch out?”

  “I did. You looked like you were sleeping peacefully, so I took pity on you and didn’t wake you up. You’re welcome.”

  The thought of him peeking in her room should have bothered her, but somehow it didn’t. Instead, the intimate act filled her with unexpected warmth.

  She poured herself a cup of fresh brew. “Not my fault I was out. I had to catch up on my beauty sleep after someone kept me and my big deal lazy ass up late last night.”

  “You don’t need beauty sleep,” he murmured.

  Was that a compliment? A feather danced in her stomach. “Looks like you could’ve used some beauty sleep yourself, Sparky. You look terrible this morning.”

  “Gee, thanks. Maybe that’s because I haven’t been to bed yet.” She arched her eyebrows, and he sipped his coffee. “While you were snoozing the morning away, the cops came and took a look around.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Nothing, except they found nothing conclusive. There could’ve been footprints, but everything was too mashed to tell.”

  “And the rock? They took it for fingerprints, right?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “What? Do they think it hurled itself through the window?”

  “Basically. They claim a human would have had to park outside the estate, climb the fence, then cover a lot of ground to do the deed, and they don’t think anyone would go to that kind of trouble just to smash a window. However, they did find it plausible the wind whipped over the deck and tossed a six-inch river rock through a triple-pane window, laws of physics be damned.” He sighed.

  “Not only did they forget their physics, but they’ve obviously never studied engineering,” Sarah snorted.

  “Yep.”

  “Where’s your mom?”

  His chest heaved on an exhale. “Lying down. She’s not feeling well.”

  Sarah’s stomach plummeted. “Oh no! Did the rock incident upset her?”

  “No, she says it’s a flare-up in her leg, and she just wants to stay off her feet.” He twirled the cup bottom on the counter. “So I’ve been thinking …”

  Uh-oh. “That’s always dangerous for a pretty head like yours.” Sarah popped up to grab a yogurt from the fridge.

  “It might be a good idea if you moved back to Gage’s,” he said softly.

  Her head was in the fridge, her back to him. She felt as if she’d just taken a punch to the gut, and she paused to catch her breath. With slow, deliberate movements, she closed the fridge, turned, and walked back to the island, where she took the stool opposite him. Not looking at him, she peeled the lid off her yogurt and fought to keep a tremor from her voice. “Why do you think that’s a good idea?” She couldn’t decide if she was mad, hurt, or both. Nor in what proportions.

  “Look, Sarah—” The chirp of a text interrupted him. “Fuck!” He slid his phone from the counter. “It’s Mom. I’ll be right back.” He hauled himself upright and jogged away.

  Sarah blew out a breath. From a world-rocking kiss last night, they’d submerged into some kind of swampy no-man’s-land. She didn’t know where they were, how to navigate it, or how to keep her head above water. Against her better judgment, she liked Quinn—a lot. Maybe more than liked, and it scared the shit out of her. Then again, maybe her better judgment was operating correctly, and she was—as Paige had suggested—looking beyond the flashy veneer.

  Her feelings for Quinn had bordered on fuzzy, but last night they’d sharpened when she’d been with Drew. The entire time she’d been wishing he were Quinn. She’d hated to admit it to herself, but there was no point in hiding the truth, was there? Why deny herself something, someone, without exploring the possibilities first? Of course she couldn’t help but wonder why, among all the men on the planet, she’d been drawn to a professional flirt. Was it a COVID consequence? After all, in the last six weeks, he’d been the lone male humanoid within reach. The fact that he was a force of nature and made her hormones sing could have also clouded her judgment … along with his sense of humor, his intelligence, and his huge heart.

  Muddled though her insight might be, there was no denying he challenged her, kept her on her toes—and that was sexy as hell. So what if he also happened to be a hockey player?

  Even playboys fell, and the fact that she was so different from the Dorys he was used to had her thinking that yeah, maybe there was something worth exploring with him. Should she choose to. And the choice was entirely up to her—how deep, how far. She’d never let herself be duped again. Her vision was clear, her eyes wide-open.

  If the rock hadn’t thrown itself through the window and interrupted them, it’s certain they would have ended up in his bed or hers. Would she have let it go that far? Hell yes. And that, surprisingly, wasn’t just her crazy hormones talking.

  But the fact that he had stopped them—hadn’t it been right after she’d suggested they have no-strings sex?—dug at her. He’d been on the verge of telling her something she wasn’t going to want to hear. She’d learned over the years that when someone told you not to take something the wrong way, inevitably you would take it the wrong way—or you’d take it the way it was intended, which hurt like hell.

  Crap! She drew in a breath and steeled herself for ramming headlong into clearing that question out of the way. As cozy as staying in her semi-bubble of bliss was, it would be less painful to pop it now before she could drift away.

  Quinn returned to the kitchen barefoot, entranced by the sight in front of him. Sarah, her back to him, was having a lively conversation with herself, complete with gesticulations. The words weren’t so loud he could pick them all out, but he caught a few—something about clearing him out of the way.

  Shit! Not what he wanted to hear. He pulled in a silent breath and braced himself.

  “What are you doing there, Sunshine?”

  She wheeled. Embarrassment, hurt, and anger waved through her features. Those big hazel eyes narrowed and fastened on him, turning icy. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to know
you’re having some kind of argument with yourself.”

  She perched a hand on her hip. “Yeah, about that.”

  Get a grip. Here it comes. He could practically hear her say, “You might be an interesting boy toy, but beyond that, I like a guy who’s waaaaay more mature, Sparky.” In another bracing maneuver, he crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet. What he was bracing for—besides her telling him to get the hell out of her life—he had no idea.

  “So last night,” she began, “you started to say something—”

  “And you said we’d talk after breakfast. Guess what? It’s long after breakfast—because someone slept in late while someone else waited, I’d like to point out. So hit me with it. Let’s get it over with.”

  “You go first,” she ordered.

  “What? That’s not how this works. The duke certainly wouldn’t go first.”

  Sarah snorted. “With the chambermaid he would. Just not with his true love, Millicent.”

  Quinn arched his eyebrows. “So you go for two-timing dukes?” The words were out before he realized what he was saying. “Oh shit, Sunshine. I didn’t mean—”

  She waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m a big girl.” With an expelling breath, she continued, “Last night you started to tell me … You said something about not taking things the wrong way after I suggested, uh, we help each other out. I’ve been filling in the blanks and waiting for the emu egg I think you’re planning to drop on my head—”

  “That’s what this is about?” He smacked his palm against his forehead. “No, no! God, no! What I wanted to tell you, what I was trying to say … Look, I haven’t had any practice at this, so bear with me. I was trying to tell you that for me, this”—he motioned his index finger between them—“isn’t about sex. Well, not that I’d object to sex with you because I’m a huge fan of that idea. But I get it if that’s all you want out of it because … Let’s face it. You think of me as a kid who’s—”

  The hard look in her eyes softened. “Wait, wait. Back up a sec. You weren’t about to say that kissing me was a big mistake? I mean, between me not being your type and my brother—”

  She could have knocked him over with a hockey sock, but he recovered and moved so fast she had no chance to protest. Grasping her arms, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard and quick.

  Now it was her turn to be confused—and dazed—and she reared back. “What did you do that for?”

  “To show you kissing you was no mistake. And because I’m happy. Apparently, you care.”

  “About what?”

  “Me.” He shrugged. “Go on. Admit it.”

  Those glittering eyes narrowed on him again. Yeah, he’d better not push his luck.

  He plopped down on a stool and yanked her onto his lap, but she vaulted upward. Spreading his legs wide, he encircled her in his arms and anchored her in place.

  She pushed against his hold. “Let go, you big lug.”

  “Not a chance. And what’s up with the emu egg analogy?”

  Rigid as a goal post, she turned her side to him, leaned away, and crossed her arms when she realized he wasn’t letting go. “Emu eggs are big and make a mess when they break.”

  He tried not laugh. “Okay, Sunshine. No emu eggs, and no more interruptions. Let’s clear the air. First of all, circling back to your question about that kiss being a mistake, the answer isn’t just ‘No,’ it’s ‘Fuck no!’ I want to do more of that. A lot more.”

  Tugging her closer, he placed his index finger under her chin, guiding her face within a breath of his. She didn’t resist, her warm body growing pliant. He dropped his voice. “Let me be absolutely clear. Sarah Nelson, I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone. And I don’t mean for one or two nights. I think about you all the time, I dream about you all the time—no one else. Some of those dreams, by the way, wouldn’t make it past any censorship board I know of.

  “I don’t care what your brother thinks, what my mother thinks, what your dog thinks. I only care about what you think”—his finger tapped her chest—“and about what you want. Understood?”

  Her mouth formed an adorable little O. “But I thought—”

  “I know what you thought, and you were wrong.” Even your badass self is wrong once in a while.

  A long, slow breath escaped her, followed by, “Oh! I didn’t understand.”

  “No, but now you do. So there’s something I need from you.”

  She cocked an eyebrow.

  “Go out with me.”

  She laughed. “Go out with you where?”

  “You’ll see. Then after that, I want to take you to dinner. What do you like to eat? I should know that already, shouldn’t I, since we’ve eaten nearly every meal together? Do you like champagne?” His insides were fizzing like a freshly opened bottle of the stuff—from nerves or excitement, he wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. Right now he was revved and ready to go, the fatigue from his sleepless night forgotten. God, there was so much about her he didn’t know, and he couldn’t wait to learn it all.

  “When were you thinking of doing this?”

  “Today. This afternoon.”

  She frowned and smiled at the same time—the look broadcast she thought he was nuts. Smart girl. “You’re kinda wound up there, Sparky.” Her fingers raked his scalp. She’d moved in a little closer—or he’d pulled her in—and her breasts brushed his chest tantalizingly.

  He resisted the urge to let his head fall back and his eyes roll into the farthest reaches of their sockets. “Sorry, babe. Guess I’m a little distracted.”

  “No, it’s sorta cute.”

  “Cute?” Shit. Is that a good thing or bad thing? “As in ‘you remind me of an Ewok,’ or ‘you’re a five-years-younger punky kid’?”

  “If those are my only choices, I’d have to go with the Ewok. They’re cuddly. Actually, though, I don’t know if you’re the cuddly type.”

  “If you’re a really good girl, you’ll find out.” So will I. Never been the cuddly type before, but once I get Sarah in my arms? Before she could utter another word, he cupped the back of her head and covered her mouth with his, swallowing the rest of her words. His tongue became a heat-seeking missile, zeroing in on the seam of her lips, probing, pushing, demanding entrance. With a sighing moan, she opened and let him in, let his mouth take hers as she wrapped her arms around this neck and let out little whimpers that fired straight to his very hard cock.

  Oh, sweet Jesus!

  He loved tasting her, couldn’t wait to explore and taste more of her, and he deepened the kiss but kept his hands strictly in the PG zones. A chuckle rumbled through him, and Sarah pulled back, her lips a little puffy and a crooked smile on her face. “Something funny about that kiss?”

  “Nothing funny about that kiss. That kiss was hot. I was just thinking I’m twenty-five, and I’m worried about getting caught by my mom.” He lightly touched the tiny diamond on her nose.

  Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “You might want to double-check your curfew with her.”

  “Why is that? Planning to keep me out late?”

  She started twiddling the hair at the back of his head. Shivers raced along his spine. It felt so damn good! He wanted her small fingers all over him. “Or up late,” she murmured.

  Hell yeah! His stomach turned a few flips, and he had to swallow before he could rasp, “Doing what, exactly?”

  “If you’re a really good boy, you’ll find out.”

  I want to find out right this goddamn minute. But I can wait.

  He stared deep into her gold-green eyes, hoping she could read how much he meant his next words. “We can take things as slowly as you say. We’re on your timetable. Nothing has to happen tonight, tomorrow night, or next month. I want to get to know Sarah Nelson. Has she ever had a T-shirt with a bolt pattern force distribution calculator on it? Does she think the episode about building the Golden Gate Bridge was as cool as I do? Does she want kids someday while she’s running the world?” Had he ever said anythin
g like this before in his life? Absolutely not. But he’d never been so fascinated by a woman before. No, everything was different with her, and he was barreling ahead with everything he had.

  He never did anything halfway.

  Chapter 27

  The LBD Never Fails

  Sarah’s head floated somewhere above her shoulders as she padded down the hall. Quinn was insane—in a fun, light, catch-you-up-on-high-spin-cycle sort of way. A mix of energy and spark and whimsy, and it was infectious. She grew giddy wondering where he was taking her.

  A few hours later, she was cursing her hair as she raked her fingers through it. Why wouldn’t it cooperate? And why did she care? She was merely having dinner with a man she’d shared many meals with. Except she’d never gotten dressed up to eat with him before. Not to mention the man in question had morphed into someone who made her heart race just thinking about him. One with surprising layers she wanted to peel back, who was open, earnest, eager to please. A human version of Archer. Yeah, there was that charm factor, but Archer was charming, and she didn’t mind that about him. If Archer hadn’t been neutered, he’d probably hump every girl dog he could get his paws on. So all in all, Quinn and Archer shared many of the same characteristics. She laughed out loud at her own convoluted justifications.

  “Admit it, the man said. You like him,” she told her reflection.

  She gave herself another appraisal. Was the little black dress overkill? Didn’t matter. It felt good on, and she looked good in it. The modest halter affair showed off her bare shoulders—one of her best assets—and the fabric graced her slight curves, amplifying them. A row of simple pearl buttons adorned the front from her collar bones to the hemline that skimmed her knees. Simple, classic, and hopefully whistle-worthy.

 

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