The Playmaker Page 6

  To all the world, Cole had it all…but now that I think about it, maybe there was more going on in his life than he let on. Perhaps he was suffering from the absence of his mother. What kind of woman just up and left her two kids, right?

  “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go finish up in the kitchen,” he says.

  I follow him out and wonder what I said to flip the switch on his mood. To be honest, he’s all kinds of contradictions. Wild and alive, and thriving off the crowd at the grocery store, but mellow and…kind, when he’s here at home. Most of the time. While I liked seeing him in his element, giving autographs to the crowd and giving credit to his team, I sort of like this side of him a little better. When he allows me small glimpses.

  I walk back to the sink as he’s putting a glass away, and grab the removable nozzle from the tap. I turn it on, but the damn things shoots out of my hand and soaks me with water. I catch Cole trying to stifle a laugh.

  Oh, he thinks this is funny, does he? I wrestle the hose into submission and turn it on him. It’s freezing cold, and he yelps and jumps.

  “Jesus, Nina!”

  “That’s what you get for laughing.”

  He tugs his wet shirt away from his skin, pulls it off, then I’m suddenly not laughing anymore. Nope, not laughing at all. Drooling would probably be a more appropriate word.

  But I have no time to think about his hotness when he spins the dishcloth and snaps my ass with it. I yelp, and reach for the hose again, ready to give him another good soaking, when my stupid back twinges.

  “Oww,” I whimper, and Cole goes perfectly still, every muscle in his body tight.

  “Shit, I’m sorry Nina.” When I meet his gaze, there is deep-seated concern on his face. “I never thought.”

  “It’s okay, it happens a lot.”

  His brow pulls together, and he puts his big hands on my shoulders. He dips his head. “What helps?”

  “Just rest and heat. I’ll have a hot bath when I get home.”

  He looks past me, out through the kitchen window. “Why don’t you get in the hot tub? You can turn on the jets, massage the area.”

  “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

  “Hang on.”

  “Cole…” I begin, but my words die when he disappears from the kitchen. If he’s digging out some bathing suit left by a former girlfriend, he’s wasting his time.

  I glance out the window again, take in the warm glow of the pool and the hot tub tucked into the corner at one end of it. It really would be nice to soak in that thing, but that’s not going to happen.

  I quickly finish washing the dishes, then turn to find Cole coming back, a bathing suit in his hand.

  “I think this will fit.”

  A little white tag is still attached to the one-piece suit. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s not a skimpy bikini.

  “I bought this for—”

  I hold my hand up to stop him. “I don’t need the details,” I say, and he lifts it for my examination.

  “Do you think it will fit?”

  I take the suit from him and check the size. It’s one size up from what I normally wear, but that’s okay with me. I’d rather bigger than smaller. “I think it will.”

  “You can change in the bathroom if you want. There are towels in the closet. I’ll just finish putting the dishes away.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I’m about to head to the bathroom, but turn back to Cole, who is now focused on the dishes. “Thanks, Cole, for…” I glance at the TV, the dishes from the delicious meal we shared, and the hot tub he’s offering me. “All this.”

  He shrugs. “It’s the least I can do for my best friend’s kid sister.”

  “Right,” I say at the reminder of who I really am to him. God, I have no right to feel so weirded out. I am his best friend’s kid sister, and don’t want to be anything more than that to him anyway.

  I dash to the lavish bathroom, hurry into the suit, and wrap a big, fluffy towel around me.

  When I exit, I find the door to the back patio open for me, and I slip out into the warm night. The lights are dim, and I follow the path to the hot tub and climb in. The warm heat wraps around me, and a small moan slips from my lips. Good God, I could totally get used to this kind of luxury.

  I fiddle around with the buttons until I figure out how to put the jets on low, and the water sprays against my body, a gentle massage that can only be described as heavenly.

  I let my lids fall shut, and try to shut my mind down. Now is not the time to let my piling bills, my hockey series or…Cole invade my thoughts. No, now is the time to clear the mind and just relax.

  Seriously though, what would Jess say if she knew I was in Cole’s hot tub? I’m going to have to shoot her a text when I get home. She’ll want all the juicy details, even if they’re rated PG.

  “Hey.”

  I open my eyes to find Cole standing on the edge of the hot tub, a glass of wine in his hand. “I found the wine, thought you might like a glass to help you relax.”

  I sit up and accept the glass. “Thanks,” I say, but my mind isn’t on the white wine. No, it’s on Cole, dressed only in his board shorts. At least they cover more than his underwear. Not much, but I’ll take it.

  “I thought I’d go for a swim, stretch out the muscles, but I won’t if you just want quiet time out here.”

  “That’s thoughtful, Cole, but this is your place. You can do what you want.”

  The second those words leave my mouth, he scrubs his hand over his chin—a familiar gesture. His gaze roams over me, and heat creeps up my neck and into my face. I set the wine in the cup holder and sink deeper into the water, as I get pulled into a storm of want and desire. It’s dark out here, but I’m not about to take a chance on him seeing the hardening of my nipples.

  He walks to the other end of the pool and eases himself in. I reach for my wine and take a sip as he slowly does a few laps. Although I’m not sure he should be exerting the effort when trying to recover from a concussion. I sit up straighter and watch his long, lean body glide through the water. I grip my stemware tighter, and agonize over the riot of need taking up residency in my stomach.

  I shouldn’t want him as much as I do. This is Cocky Cole, who’s reached out and touched more women than Hallmark. But seriously, the last time I was properly laid was…never. I mean, I’ve had sex, just not good sex, and if his reputation is right, well…he can deliver—big time.

  He surfaces in front of the hot tub, and I scramble back into my seat, but my reaction is too slow. He gives me that grin again, the one that says he knows I’ve been watching, and he doesn’t mind.

  “I’m not sure you should be exercising,” I say.

  “I know, but don’t worry, I took it easy.” He cocks his head, his eyes teasing. “Wait, you were worried, right?”

  “Of course I was,” I say quickly. “You’re my brother’s best friend, and even if you were a jerk to me growing up, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  “I wasn’t always a jerk. If I was, you wouldn’t have called me that night, remember?”

  I cringe at the reminder. “Yeah, I remember.”

  I’ll never forget the night I snuck out and went on a date with Kenny Foster. He was older and had a car. Cason didn’t like him, and Mom and Dad would never have allowed me in a car with a guy at fifteen. But he paid me attention when other guys didn’t. He was a fighter, a troublemaker, with a bad-ass reputation. No one messed with him, so when the bad boy paid me attention, I fell for it. That night, he drove to the lookout point, and told me to either put out or get out.

  I got out—and ran.

  “Yeah, thanks for that. I couldn’t tell Mom or Dad, and I didn’t want Cason to know. He would have gone after him, and I didn’t want my brother to get hurt.”

  “I never told him. I promised you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.”

  I nod, really appreciating that he’d kept my secret. “Kenny ended up with a broken nose somehow, anyway.”

&nbs
p; “Yeah, I know.”

  My head jerks back and I catch the small grin on his face. “Wait…you?”

  “Yeah.”

  My heart stutters. “That was crazy, Cole! He could have killed you.”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  I shake my head. “I had no idea you did that to him.”

  “You didn’t need to, but he needed to know if he ever put his hands on you or put you in that kind of situation again, he was a dead man.”

  “Thank you,” I say quietly, my insides on a roller coaster ride. Cole went after Kenny for me?

  He goes quiet and glances past my shoulders, his eyes are narrowed, like he’s remembering something from long ago. “I’m kind of going insane here, Nina,” he says, his honest admission and the stress in his voice taking me by surprise. “I’m not even supposed to be watching TV, but how can I sit around all day and stare at a wall?”

  My heart squeezes at his loneliness. “I know exactly what you mean. Cabin fever is real, even in a mansion like this. At least I had Jess to keep me occupied though.”

  “I’m worried that if I don’t swim and keep my muscles warm and active, I’m going to fuck up when I get back.”

  This vulnerable side of him is messing with me head. I spread my arms over the surface of the hot tub, plucking at the bubbles. “The best place to warm your muscles is in here,” I say without thinking.

  “Don’t mind sharing?”

  Oh, shit. A half-naked Cole is going to slide in beside me. Well done, Nina. Well done. But how could I not invite him in, especially after seeing that little-boy-lost look on his face? This is harder for him than he’s letting on, and it breaks my damn heart that he has no one to help him. Where the heck is his father when he needs him most?

  “Like I said, this is your place.”

  He lifts himself from the water, and I take another big gulp of wine as he opens a plastic box beside the hot tub and pulls out a bottle of something.

  “What’s that?

  “Tiger balm. Good for sore muscles.”

  He uncaps it and adds it to the water, and the scent of aloe vera and wintergreen fill the air. I breathe it in as he climbs in and sits across from me. Our feet touch, and I quickly pull my legs back.

  “How’s the back?” he asks.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I can do this. It’s not like we’re in the bath together. People get in hot tubs in groups, for God’s sake. No one’s having an orgy. Nothing intimate about it.

  Then why does being in here with Cole, alone, feel so cozy?

  “Good.” I spread my arms and brace them on the top of the hot tub. “This is so much better than a hot bath.”

  “You can use it anytime.” A dog barks in the distance, and we both go quiet for a bit. “So, after watching the game tonight, any ideas for a story come to you?”

  “No, not yet. I’ve been in kind of a creative rut lately.”

  “How come?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Sometimes it happens. I have to do other creative things and it helps the muse.”

  “What do you like to do?”

  “Watch movies, cook, just go for walks. Meet Jess for coffee.”

  He nods and rakes his hair back. “That’s pretty much been my life for the last few weeks. Except for the cooking, and coffee with Jess,” he adds with a grin. “Maybe we can do those things together. The company would be nice.”

  I take another sip of wine, and when I start to feel the effects, I set it down. “I better not finish this if I’m going to drive home.”

  “I was thinking. Why don’t you stay here—”

  “I can’t stay here,” I say quickly.

  “Why not? I have tons of spare bedrooms, and if you’re going to help me cook, and not clean,” he says with a laugh, “we can start with something simple like breakfast. You might as well stay and avoid the commute. I have a laptop you can use if you want to get some writing done.”

  “I…” I let my words fall off as I look at him. That little-boy-lost look is there again, giving me the sense that he doesn’t just want me to stay, but needs me to stay. He might have been a jerk most of the time, but he was there for me that night when I had no one else to turn to.

  “It’s not a big deal, Nina. You’d have your own space. But if you don’t want—”

  “I want.”

  Oh, how I want…

  6

  Cole

  Darkness falls over the house, the light from the street filtering in through the crack in the curtains and creating shadows on the walls as I quietly make my way downstairs. Nina had gone to bed long ago, and all my restless tossing and turning, my lust-drunk mind preoccupied with the girl in the room next to me, is doing fuck all to help me sleep.

  The fifth step creaks under my bare feet, and I go still for a moment, partly so I don’t wake Nina and partly because there’s a tug at the base of my neck, a headache brewing. I stand for a moment, until the ache subsides, and glance over my shoulder, listening for sound. It’s a pretty rare occasion when I have to worry about waking someone. Other than my sister and Cason, and the party I threw with friends when I first moved in, no one enters my safe zone.

  I listen for a few seconds longer and scratch my bare chest. When I’m sure I hadn’t woken my guest, aka my newly hired cook—one I want to taste in the worst fucking way—I take the rest of the steps and pad quietly across the wood floor to the kitchen. I slide my finger over the dimmer light, keeping the room shadowy so the bright light doesn’t bring back that headache.

  I grab the milk from the fridge and my box of Captain Crispies. After pouring a generous amount into the bowl, I dip a spoon in and take a big bite. Fucking delicious. I’d forgotten how much I like this crap.

  Instead of sitting, I stand at the big patio door and look out over the pool, lost in thoughts, until footsteps sound behind me. I turn, startled to see a figure in the archway.

  Except my alarm turns to lust when Nina comes into the kitchen dressed in the big T-shirt I’d given her for bed. Jesus, talk about hot. Sexy as fuck.

  An ache of need twists inside me as my gaze drops, takes in the length of her. The light is dim, but I can still make out her barely there curves that drive me fucking wild, those sleek legs I’d give my nut sac to feel wrapped around me. Fuck, is she wearing any panties under that shirt? Is her sex brushing up against the fabric, no barriers? Is her scent weaving its way through the cotton? Damned if I don’t want to find out.

  “Oh,” she says, startled. “I didn’t know you were up.”

  Oh, yeah, I’m up, in so many fucking ways.

  She stares at me though sleepy eyes, then points toward the sink, and it’s all I can do not to cross the room and kiss her again. “I was thirsty. I was going to get a glass of water. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind. You’re welcome to anything, Nina. You don’t have to ask permission. While you’re staying here, what’s mine is yours.” Including my bed and body, but I think it’s best to leave that unsaid.

  “Thanks.” She strolls to the cupboard, and I watch her hips sway beneath the too-long T-shirt. My cock stands at attention as she reaches into the cupboard for a glass, and I set my bowl of cereal on the counter, my hunger shifting.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I was just restless.” She shrugs. “Strange place, different bed, you know.”

  No one has ever slept in the room I put her in—the one directly beside mine. It’s one of the smaller rooms, but I wanted to give her the best view of the pool and, well, maybe I wanted her close. Which is all kinds of fucked up. I want her in my bed, yes—and that’s all kinds of fucked up, too—but I shouldn’t want her close. Sex and intimacy are two very different things, and I don’t do the second.

  “Too cramped? Bed uncomfortable?”

  “The opposite, actually. The room is bigger than my condo, and it’s the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in.”

  “
My—”

  She holds her hand up to stop me. “Let me guess, your decorator suggested you spare no expense and buy a top-quality mattress.” Her voice is full of teasing laughter as she smiles at me, and goddammit, her sweetness is like a sucker punch to the gut.

  As air leave my lungs, I try to laugh with her and say, “Yeah.”

  She leans against the counter and folds her arms across her chest. The innocent movement tugs the T-shirt higher on her legs. “Why did she insist on the best of everything?”

  I scrub my hand through my hair, messing it up. “Cause someday my wife would like that? She said something about quality things attracting a quality girl.” I laugh. “Stupid.”

  Nina cocks her head, a challenge in her gaze. “If it was so stupid, why did you agree?”

  Good question. “No clue. Maybe because I didn’t care one way or another.”

  “Or maybe in the back of your mind, that’s what you want. To settle down with a nice girl.”

  A half laugh, half snort rumbles in my throat, and Nina stands still and stares at me like I’m an escaped mental patient. Jesus, she couldn’t be more wrong. “I’m an expert asshole, Nina. Assholes don’t attract nice girls. Besides, I’m not marriage material.” I know nothing about being a good man or father, considering the role model I had. Not to mention I wasn’t even enough to keep my mother around. She didn’t care enough about me to stay. Yeah, I have the funds and means to search her down now, but why would I bother. Why would I ever go after a woman who didn’t want me in her life?

  Nope, wasn’t going down that path. Don’t feel. Don’t get hurt. A motto to live by.

  “Me neither,” she says matter-of-factly.

  What the hell? Why would she think that?

  Taken aback by her nonchalant statement, I’m about to ask when she redirects with, “Did you have a say in any of the rooms, add any of your own personal touches?”

  Right now, there’s something I’d like to give my own personal touch.

  “Things from your childhood?”

  “I’m not much of a decorator, and I don’t have a lot of stuff from my childhood.”