Kick (Completion Series) (11 page)

Something passed over his features—a touch of anger, regret, and sympathy all at once. “Come on, I’m feeding you first.”

“Oh, no. Not looking like this.”

He went back to smiling. “You look lovely.”

“You’re a great liar.”

For the first
time, I heard Joel’s laugh. It was a full, throw-his-head-back, teeth-showing, husky sound. He was gorgeous. When he calmed, he looked at me like he was double-checking to see if he was lying or not. “I’m not taking no for an answer. My t-shirt has barely dried from your tears. You owe me breakfast.”

“You’ll let me buy?”

He exaggerated an eye roll. “No, but I insist you sit across from me while I eat half a pig and a dozen eggs.”

I liked the humorous Joel. “If you can eat half a pig and a dozen eggs y
ou deserve to buy your own meals. You need to give me five minutes to add some makeup to my face or I’m walking back to my hotel.”

“I’ve never understood women and makeup
, but we’ll save that argument for another day. I need to eat early and give my stomach a chance to settle down before the match. Hurry.”

I ran into the bathroom I’d used the night before and rushed through the quickest makeup job in history
. I was out in three minutes. “Let’s go. Whatcha waiting for?”

He laughed again as we walked outside to his truck. It was
such a monstrosity, but at least it had a sideboard I could climb up on. Before I could lift my leg, Joel grabbed me around the waist and effortlessly lifted me inside. I frantically pulled my dress down and gave him a frown.

“I’m in a hurry
. Don’t go all feminist on me now.”

I had to bite my lip to hide
a smile. “That caveman action actually suits you. Who’s wasting time now?”

He placed his fingers at his temple and saluted me before walking around to the dr
iver’s side and starting the powerful engine. Country music blared out of the speakers and I cringed.

“What, you like that easy listening crap?” he
asked as he turned onto the road connected to the long driveway.

“Symphony actually.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“Music defines everything in your life. I want pieces that move me, create pictures in my mind, and leave me reeling.”
I was known to listen to top forty, but I’d be damned if I told him that. He was too fun to tease.

“That wasn’t a joke,” he said with an incredulous look on his face.

“Love me, hate me, cheat on me, kiss my dog. That defines you?”

“Kiss your dog?”

I was looking out the window so he couldn’t see my grin. “That’s country music in a nutshell.”

“Well, I guess you did kiss my brother
, so you would know.”

Shit. He had to go there. I turned at the same time he took his eyes off the road and gave me a
quick glance. I shook my head. “I admit to being stupid. Everyone warned me, including you, and I still ran smack dab into trouble. It’s done and I want to move past it.” I added a soft smile. “Your brother is like kissing a puppy. They’re cute and cuddly, but then they grow up… okay in his case never grow up, but still, the cute rubs off. The moral to this story is no more alcohol for me at least for a while.”

He glance
d at me again, his eyes turning to stormy blue. “Alcohol?”

“My choice, my mistake, not your brother
’s.” There was no way I’d blame my stupidity on Van. Punch his face… maybe.

We were
on the main road now and Joel pulled into an old-fashioned small diner. I noticed his rigid jaw on the unmarred side of his face. I got out of the truck before he could walk around and lift me out. If anyone was behind me I’m sure they got a glimpse of my panties, but I just didn’t care at the moment. Joel held the door open for me and we walked inside. The place was clean and quaint. The aroma of fried bacon hung in the air.

“Big
match today. Wondered when you’d be by to fill up those engines,” an older waitress said while she grabbed two menus.

Joel g
ave her a brief hug before introducing us. “Maggs, this is Cami Avesque from a Cleveland newspaper doing some articles on The Slam.”

Mag
gs didn’t look twice at my dress. With a warm smile she shook my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m glad you brought this man in for his meal. It’s good luck for him to eat our half a pig, dozen egg special before a match.”

I had to laugh
. “I thought he was joking.”

“Well it’s a bit of an exaggeration
, but I doubt you or I could get through a quarter of it. Joel cleans his plate every time. Have a seat anywhere you like. Do you both want coffee?”

“Yes
, please,” I replied.

“Same here
, but only a cup and then it’s water for me.”

Maggs
gave Joel the menus and he led me to a booth by the window. Several lone men and one couple all wished him luck at today’s match. Everyone knew him and obviously respected him. We sat down and I couldn’t help asking, “Does Van usually come with you on match days?”

His eyes flash
ed and the angry tightness to his lips returned. “Van, no. I doubt he’s ever eaten here.”

That pretty much said it all. The brothers
were as different as night and day. I looked down at my menu, my eyes zeroing in on the specials first. Number one is the meal Joel and Maggs told me about. Six pieces of bacon, six eggs, six pieces of toast and hash browns. I looked up and said, “You’re kidding, right. Your arteries haven’t frozen in your veins yet.”

His
face softened and his lip tilted up. It was adorable. “I’m a big boy, and I need my protein and carbs before a match. I’ll eat some veggies about two hours before the kickoff whistle, but it’s too long until then and I play better if I get my energy going early.”

Maggs
placed our cups in front of us and poured the coffee. “Have you decided what you want, Cami?”

“I’ll have the two eggs and toast. If I have any left over, I’ll shovel it to Joel’s side of the table.”

Maggs winked at Joel. “She’s a keeper,” she said before walking off.

Heat
traveled to my cheeks, but Joel ignored it and started prepping his coffee with sugar. I added cream to mine and a packet of sugar-free sweetener. It was surprisingly good and helped with the post-alcohol yucky feeling that had lingered since I woke up.

I
gazed at Joel as soon as we had both enjoyed our first sips. “So… are there any more match-day habits that help you win?”

He
took another sip. “Several. Will you use them in your article if I tell you?” he said with a clear twinkle in his eyes.

“Not if you don’t want me to
, but they better be good.”

“
Coming here for breakfast is the second game day ritual. The first is going on a date the night before a game. I took a lovely woman named Evelyn out last night.”

Why did that make me sad? “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” he said with a smile, “she’s a friend of a friend. It was a blind date.”

That
made me chuckle. “I hate to ask how the blind date went.”

For just a second, the same bad
-boy expression that Van had flittered across Joel’s face. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Not
fair at all. You saw how my date turned out.”

He looked at me over his cup. “I hope mine ended without her crying
, but it doesn’t change that I won’t kiss and tell.”

“Ahhh, you kissed her.”

He frowned. “Cami.”

I put
on my innocent face. “What?” I asked shyly, though for the first time around Joel, I didn’t feel shy at all.

He
gave me stern eyes. “I won’t ask you what happened with my brother. You won’t ask about Eileen.”

“
You know exactly what happened with your brother and I thought you said her name was Evelyn.” I knew my grin was growing, but I couldn’t help myself.

His cheeks tinged
the slightest bit pink.

“You don’t even remember her name
,” I said and bit my lip to keep from laughing aloud.

“We didn’t have sex
, just a few kisses. I probably don’t remember the names of several of the women I’ve kissed.” He huffed out, truly affronted.

“You’re
fun to tease.”

It was priceless. He growled—a low rumbling bear sound. I burst into laughter and he smiled at me.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?” he asked with a quizzical look.

“For turning something really bad into something better.”

“My brother was that bad
?” he deadpanned.

It was my turn to growl. “We’re not going there.” Sadly my lady parts were feeling the lingering effects of not
-quite-ready sex. Now that my mind wasn’t as blurry because I had a cup of coffee, I was remembering last night’s first encounter. Van was a jerk, but I was so lost in wild Cami that I was blind.

“Hey.” Joel tapped my hand
, which was resting on the table.

No sulking for me.
“Are you going to tell me your other match day superstitions?”

“I prefer
you call them rituals.”

“Whatever,” I said in my best
juvenile voice. I was having fun and the memory of last night was fading quickly. For now.

“I wear orange laces on my shoes.”

“Orange? Your team color is red.”

“In college it was blue, but in youth league, we were red one year. My mom
accidently bleached my red laces a nice orange before a match and it’s all I had to wear. I wore them and played the best game in my young career. Now I buy orange laces as bright as I can get them. I believe today’s pair glow in the dark.”

That was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard
, and I remembered Van saying Joel was a momma’s boy. “I look forward to seeing you light up the field.”

Our breakfast arrived. His came on
a large platter with a side plate for his toast. I watched him attack his food. The man was huge and I’m sure he needed the fuel, though, in my entire life, I never saw anyone put away that much food. I will admit to cleaning my own plate. I expected grease, but got perfect eggs and toast with real butter. The meal was delicious.

Joel finally leaned back and groaned.

“I can’t even imagine what your grocery bill is.”

“Large. We need to go. I have a few things to do before the
match.”

Our time was over. Joel paid the bill and lifted me into his truck again. We didn’t speak much on the way to my hotel.

“Don’t move,” he said when we pulled up to the lobby. He came around, opened my door, and swung me down. “Are you coming to the match?”

It seemed an odd que
stion. “Of course. I need the score for my first article and also experience at watching an actual match live.”

“I’m glad.”

What he meant dawned on me and I needed to clear this up. “What happened between me and your brother won’t keep me away. Awkward, yes, but I’m not running from my stupidity.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Will you be at The
Slam Tavern afterwards?”

I really didn’t want to go if Van would be there
, but I had to suck it up for my job. “Yes, I’ll be there. So for a little inside scoop… is The Slam winning this afternoon’s game?”

A fanatical light practically went off
behind his eyes. “You bet your ass. We’ll annihilate them.”

He d
rove away as I entered the Inn’s lobby wondering why I couldn’t have fallen for Joel instead of Van.

I sat my things on the end of m
y bed and headed straight for the shower. I removed my clothes vowing to never wear the dress again. The scent of sex hit me. I still smelled like Van. Could Joel smell it on me? The thought was mortifying. I held back additional tears, but couldn’t stop thinking “What if?” What if I hadn’t gone out with Van? What if I hadn’t melted into his arms with the first kiss last night? What if I hadn’t had so much to drink? What if I drown wild Cami in a vat of poison? That was the best what if I had.

I scrubbed myself, even my tender lady bits that were swollen an
d raw. The small stubble scratches on my skin pissed me off. What the hell did he do, mark his harem so everyone could see? I was such a stupid fool. My first real assignment and I fell into bed with my contact—a stupid, blowhard jock.

I set my alarm on my phone and crawled naked under my covers. Again the what ifs swamped me
, but I managed to shut them down. I slept until the
bing bing bing
on my phone went off. After a quick shower to clear my head, I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I planned to enjoy the match. I also wanted to be comfortable and approachable looking like I fit in at a rugby match.