Chapter 13

thirteen

. . .

Easton

My irritation was at an all-time high. The office had sung “Happy Birthday” to me at lunch, and I’d pasted a smile on my face because I was trying to take Henley’s advice to heart. It made sense.

I could grieve and still let people wish me a happy birthday.

Even if it was the last thing that I’d felt like doing.

But now I was playing pickleball with two dickheads from Colton County who were relentlessly hitting on my partner.

And it pissed me the fuck off.

But did I intentionally spike the ball that hit Gary Rite in the groin?

I don’t think so.

I mean, I sure as shit wouldn’t swear to it in a court of law.

I’d definitely plead the fifth.

“What the fuck, Easton?” Gary whined as he lay on the ground, and now Henley was on the other side of the court, helping him up.

His doubles partner, Brendan Williams, was trying not to laugh as he assisted him to his feet.

We’d played them year after year, and they were Colton County’s best doubles team, and they were sore losers.

I stood at the net, acting just as surprised as he was. “I can’t always put the ball where I want it to go, buddy. Sorry about that.”

“I need to take five and drink some water.” The motherfucker was holding on to Henley like she was his lifeline, and his partner decided it was the perfect time for a bathroom break.

And then Gary did the most fucked-up thing of all when she offered to walk him to the bench so he could sit and drink some water.

He glanced over his shoulder and winked at me.

He fucking winked.

I should have hit him right in the dick with that ball.

“Easton,” Henley called out. “Can you grab him a water, please?”

I rolled my eyes and made my way over to the water station, where my brother, Rafe, was standing and filling up his cup. “How’s it going, brother? Things look a little heated over there.”

“Gary Rite is a dick,” I said as I pulled out a cup and filled it for him.

“You aren’t wrong ,” he said, before breaking out in laughter. “Get it… Rite. Wrong.”

“Yeah, I fucking get it. But I’m not in kindergarten, nor am I in the joking mood. He’s openly flirting with my partner, and now he’s pretending to be hurt.”

“I don’t know. I was watching. You gave him a pretty good shot to the groin. A little to the left, and he wouldn’t have use of his schlong.” He smirked, just as Bridger walked over.

“He’s working it. He just wants Henley’s attention. That fucker winked at me after he pretended to be injured.”

“Since when do you let people get under your skin?” Bridger pushed Rafe out of the way so he could fill his water bottle.

“It seems our dear brother doesn’t like anyone flirting with his coworker. You two seem to spend a lot of time together, huh?” Rafe smirked. “Is something going on there?”

I started walking backward when Henley shouted my name like I was the goddamn water boy. “Listen, it’s about respect. She’s my partner, and he’s being a douchebag. I’m a gentleman, and I can’t stand by and allow that.”

“A gentleman who tried to hit a dude in the dick with a pickleball?” Bridger said, as Rafe burst out in hysterical laughter.

I flipped them both the bird.

I walked over to where Gary and Henley were sitting.

“It’s about time, man. I’m parched.” Gary reached for the water, and then the bastard waggled his brows at me when Henley wasn’t looking.

This fucking guy.

Brendan came jogging over and asked Gary if he was okay.

“He’s fine,” I grumped. This clown was playing everyone.

Henley shot me a look and turned her attention back to the dickhead, who was moving to his feet. “Do you think you’re okay to play?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve got to go meet my grandmother at her nursing home after this, so I can’t afford to be hurt and let my favorite girl down,” Gary said with a shrug.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

I glanced over at Brendan, and he was smiling, because he knew the dude was pissing me off.

“Well, then, let’s finish this game so you can go to the nursing home and then volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club after to bake cookies,” I hissed.

He smirked and gave me a nod as I stormed around to the other side of the court.

“What is your problem?” Henley snipped as she moved in front of me.

“My problem? That dude is playing you.”

“You and I both know that you hit him on purpose,” she said, close to my ear so only I could hear her.

Roses and jasmine filled the air around me, and I hit my breaking point.

Enough is enough.

“Why do you wear perfume to fucking pickleball?” I grumped, and her eyes widened.

“You know what, Easton? I think you actually need to see a real therapist to deal with these ridiculous outbursts.” She whipped around, getting into position, and I let a loud, fake chuckle leave my lips.

“You could just stop wearing the perfume,” I said, as I bounced the ball a few times before serving it.

This was now just a formality. We were already killing them.

The next fifteen minutes were a joke. They weren’t making any effort to engage in this game. I may as well be out here on my own because they were barely returning the ball, and Henley had copped a big attitude and was letting the few balls that made it over the net come to me.

“You could pitch in and hit a few,” I growled, as I got ready for the final serve.

Game point.

“Why? You’re a one-man show.”

And that’s the way I like it.

I served the ball, and they both attempted to get it, but neither made contact, and the game was over.

See ya around, losers.

Bridger, Rafe, Clark, and Axel all stood on the side of the court, watching, as our little medical emergency had caused our game to go well over the allotted time.

“Good game, guys,” I said to Gary and Brendan, and they both glared at me and then said a lengthy goodbye to my teammate.

I walked over to meet the guys, and they were already laughing.

“Good game, but let’s try not to injure the opponents so blatantly,” Clark said.

“You’re a professional hockey player. You hurt people for a living,” I reminded him.

“Are you seriously comparing hockey to pickleball? You don’t see a lot of brawling on the pickleball court, brother.” He laughed, just as Henley walked over.

“I think I smoothed things over,” she said.

“You don’t need to smooth shit over. What did you say?” I raised a brow.

“I told them you were frustrated with your erectile dysfunction medication and that you felt like a failure in the bedroom, so you were just flexing your manliness on the court.”

Now everyone was laughing hysterically, aside from me. They were all high-fiving her as we started walking toward the parking lot.

“You did not tell them that,” I hissed.

“Of course, I didn’t. Stop being a baby.” She bumped me with her shoulder. “I told them that you were upset because someone at the office found out your secret that you have three nipples. And throw in the fact that you’re lactating, and it was just too much for you.”

My brothers and Axel were laughing so hard they had tears running down their faces.

It wasn’t that fucking funny.

“Did you learn this particular level of humor at Harvard, Princess?” I said, trying not to join in the laughter, even though she had a gift for lightening the mood.

“Nope. This is called street smarts, Evil Genius.”

“I don’t think anyone can put this guy in his place quite like you do. It’s an impressive skill.” Rafe gave her a hug and clapped me on the shoulder as they all said their goodbyes.

I opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in the car.

We were quiet on the drive home.

I pulled into her driveway, and she turned to face me when I put the car in park. “Why were you so mad on the court? It was a little ridiculous, even for you.”

“Even for me? What does that mean?”

“It means what it means, Easton.” Now she was pissed again? “It’s the whole whiplash thing. One minute you’re fine, and we’re playing a game, and then the next, you’re spiking a ball at your opponent. One minute, you’re talking to me in your office, and the next, you’re abruptly telling me to leave.”

“This whole whiplash accusation is getting old, Princess. When I tell you to leave, it’s because we’re done, and it’s time to get to work. And when I hit that jackass with a ball, it’s because he had it coming. I don’t stand on ceremony. If someone is acting like a dick, I’m going to call them out.”

“Or randomly hit them with a pickleball?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Po-tate-to, Po-tot-to.”

She groaned and pushed out of the car, and I jumped out and hurried around. “Don’t be a gentleman after you’ve acted like a complete asshole.” She had her hands on her hips. “I don’t need you to walk me to the door. I can get there myself.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I ran after her up the stairs, just as she turned around with her back pressed to the door.

“No. I’m dead serious. I won’t play pickleball again with you if you’re going to behave like a child. I’ll be on someone else’s team.”

“I’m the captain. I decide who plays on what team.” I raised a brow.

“And I’m the sub, and I can make myself unavailable.”

My hands were on each side of her head, resting against the door.

Again.

We were back in this same place.

My face was so close to hers, I could lean down, and my mouth would be on hers.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” she huffed. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. I glanced down to see her nipples poking through her tank top.

What the fuck was this?

We were clearly attracted to one another. But I knew better.

“Nope. I think you’ll come back and play with me again.”

“You underestimate me, Easton Chadwick.” She held her chin up, but her chest arched as if she were desperate for contact.

Have I ever wanted to kiss anyone this badly?

My hand moved to the side of her neck, my thumb stroking her jaw.

“I don’t underestimate you, Princess. You’re misreading me.”

“Why’d you hit him with that ball?” she whispered.

“Because he was flirting with you, and I didn’t like it.”

Her lips turned up in the corners. “Why didn’t you like it?”

“I don’t know,” I said, as my nose traced along the bridge of her nose. “And that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Fuck.

I wanted her so badly I couldn’t think straight.

She pushed up on her tiptoes, her lips grazing against mine. My dick was so hard it threatened to tear through the fabric of my shorts.

“Is it because you want me all to yourself?” she asked.

“That’s not really my thing. I’m not that guy.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be,” she said, and I nipped at her mouth.

“Really? You don’t want me all to yourself, Princess?”

“Nope. I think you’d annoy me if I had to deal with you all the time.” Her words were breathy, and her hands fisted in my tee as she held me there.

“It wouldn’t be wise to cross the line.” My other hand moved to the back of her head, and I wrapped her ponytail around my fingers.

“Well, it wasn’t wise to hit someone with a pickleball, either.” Her voice was gruff. “But that didn’t stop you. How about we don’t overthink it? It’s a kiss. Maybe we’ll hate it.”

“I hope we fucking hate it.” I nipped at her ear.

“Just kiss me already, Chadwick.”

It was like a gun had gone off at the starting line of a race. My mouth crashed into hers with a startling desperation.

Her lips parted, granting me access, and our tongues tangled.

Desperate and hungry and needy.

My hands settled on each side of her face, tilting her head slightly as I groaned into her mouth.

Her lips were soft, her mouth was sweet, and my dick was rock hard as she ground up against me.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging me closer.

I couldn’t get enough.

We couldn’t get enough.

I’d never kissed a woman like this.

A ringing startled me from the haze.

I pulled back, and her gaze was wild with need, her lips pink and swollen.

“That must be the universe telling us to stop,” I hissed as I stroked her cheek.

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s just my cell phone.” She pulled her phone from her purse and groaned. “It’s my dad.”

“Take it. This never happened. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walked backward down the steps.

Retreating.

It’s what I did best.