Kicked (28 page)

When we were spent, I let my forehead rest against the seat back and took in gulps of air.

He ran his hands up and down my back, then pulled me close to him in a gentle embrace. “I’m yours. Always.”

I pulled away and ran my palm down his face before grazing my lips against his. “I guess you sealed the deal.”

He thrust inside me again, his cock still hard enough to send a wave of heat through me. “Maybe we should double seal it. Just to be sure.” He turned and lay me on my back, still inside me.

“I think it’s probably better safe than sorry.” I giggled as he pressed down on top of me and stole my laughter with another kiss.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

C
ORDY

“
T
HAT’S WAY TOO MANY
jalapenos.” I frowned as Landon scooted a handful of diced peppers into the pot of cheese dip.

“Don’t be a pussy.” He stirred them in until the gelatinous orange cheese hid the danger within.

“When does the good stuff start?” Ellie had folded herself into a side chair in the living room and was texting furiously.

“They like to go through all the highlights from the year before they announce the four playoff teams. Be patient.” Trent tossed a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth.

Of the four of us, only Landon and I were proficient enough to be in charge of food for the playoff selection get-together I’d planned. He’d healed up nicely, no signs of Ethan’s handiwork lingering on his handsome face.

Things were different, though. Our relationship had shifted. The change was almost imperceptible, but I could feel it. He didn’t share as much with me as he had before. I couldn’t tell if that was a result of his relationship with Ellie or mine with Trent. But he was here, and we talked every day just like we used to, so I was thankful.

A clatter sounded from the living room. I looked over as Trent tried to fish the remote off the floor, but only sent it skittering under Ellie’s chair.

The announcers were laughing. I turned to the screen. There I was, in all my blue and white glory. My muffed kick from our early season game against the Eagles was playing in an untold number of households across the U.S. I’d memorized the play—the way the ball hit my own player and flew straight up, how the lineman ran past me and then dragged me all the way to the end zone.

“It’s been called the Kick Six of the Century. And after that replay, I don’t think I can add anything else.” One of the announcers guffawed, and I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt.

Trent sent me a sheepish glance. “I tried to change it. Sorry.”

“It’s cool. I mean, it
did
happen.” I attempted to ignore the peals of laughter from the two announcers and made a mental note to send Kirk Herbstreit a rude tweet. He was cute, but he could stand to be taken down a peg or ten.

I grabbed a bowl of salsa and a bag of chips and set them on the coffee table.

“Thanks.” Trent patted the leather next to him. “Take a break for a minute.”

“I have to finish the taco bar.”

He pulled me down into his lap and nuzzled my neck. “There’s a particular taco bar I’d like to finish.”

“Gross.” Ellie switched to texting with one hand while scooping salsa with the other.

“You need to work on your inside voice.” I giggled as he ran his fingers over my stomach through my team t-shirt.

“Maybe I should just take you to the bedroom for a private chat.”

I laughed louder when he tickled my ribs. “Stop!”

“No.” He nipped at my ear.

“Hey, I’m trying to work over here,” Landon grumbled from the kitchen.

I disentangled myself and stood. Trent’s thick erection was on full display through his athletic shorts. I snagged a throw pillow and tossed it to him. He didn’t take his eyes off me, the look in them making me forget what I was doing for a second.

“Taco bar.” I forced myself to walk away from him, but the image of me riding him like a rented mule once Ellie and Landon left for the night was a small consolation.

“How many presents under that tree are for me?” Landon glanced to the overdone Christmas tree in front of the big windows that looked out onto the park.

Trent had told me how his father loved Christmas. The stories of his dad dressing up as Santa Claus and visiting children in the hospital, giving outrageous gifts, and spreading holiday cheer during the entire month of December touched me, especially because Trent was so fond of those memories. So, to keep his dad’s spirit alive, I’d gone a little overboard. The tree, the mantle, and any available surface had some sort of Christmas decoration on it.

“I don’t know. Are you on Santa’s nice list or his naughty list?” I slid the taco shells into the oven.

He leaned against the counter, his worn Pantera t-shirt looking decidedly non-festive. “I would have to fall firmly in the naughty camp.”

I set the timer and walked past him to the fridge. “Well, in that case, I don’t know how many presents you can legitimately expect.”

I tried to snag every ingredient for the tacos that my arms could hold, but it didn’t quite work.

“Let me help.” He took the salsa and lettuce from me.

“I didn’t get any soft tortillas. I hope that’s okay.” Snagging the cheese, sour cream, and onions, I backed away and turned to the bar.

“You know my thoughts on crunchy versus soft tacos.” Landon joined me.

“I do. ‘Soft tacos are hard tacos’ ugly cousins.’”

“Perfectly quoted and completely correct.”

Trent stood and walked over. His dick situation seemed to be under control again. Thank God. That would have been awkward.

“They’re building it up some more.” He surveyed the bar. “But the announcement is imminent.”

“Cool.” I tried to tamp down my nerves, but I burned for the chance to face the Eagles again. The Kick Six replay only added fuel to the fire.

Trent’s phone rang. He snagged it off the coffee table and froze.

“What is it?” I started dicing the tomato.

“Mom.”

I stopped mid-chop. She hadn’t contacted him since she’d stormed out of his apartment.

“I’ll take it in here.” He hurried to his bedroom and closed the door.

I forced myself to keep chopping, though I was desperately curious as to what his mom wanted.

It didn’t take long for me to find out.

Trent’s voice started low and then rose, contention in every note. “Mom. Mom. Listen. No. I’m not coming without Cordy.”

His voice grew quiet again, but tension permeated the air.

Landon coughed. “So, who wants nachos?”

“I do!” Ellie finally stopped texting and came over to the bar. “Is this real meat? Where’s my tofu?”

Landon shook his head. “I refuse your attempts to profane my tacos. Meat or GTFO.”

I strained to hear any more of Trent’s conversation with his mother, but the bedroom was quiet.

“I’ll just have veggie tacos.”

Landon gaped. “You’re going to eat a taco without any meat. Seriously? I thought I knew you.”

Ellie walked around the bar and hugged Landon from behind. “I’ll get my meat another way.”

“Okay then.” I turned my back on them and rinsed my hands off as Trent came out of the bedroom.

His eyes were stormy as he walked to me.

“What happened?”

“We have an invitation to the Carrington Estate for Christmas Eve dinner.”

“Both of us?” I dried my hands on a dish towel.

“Yes. If you don’t want to go, I understand. We can celebrate here.”

“You’d pass it up for me?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Are you serious? Where I go, you go. If you aren’t welcome somewhere, then neither am I.”

His answer was perfect, just like him.

I pulled him into a hug. “I think we should go.”

“If you want to, we will. But if she’s rude to you—”

“Then you’ll let me handle it.” I pulled back and peered at him. “I’m a grown woman. I can hold my own, even against her. Maybe we can work out some sort of truce.”

“I like your fight, but she’s a tough opponent.”

I dug my nails into his sides. “Are you saying I’m not tough?”

He laughed and picked me up, bringing me to eye level. “If you and my mother get into it, I may just hide under the dining room table until the destruction is over.”

I kissed the tip of his nose. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt her too bad.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, they’re announcing!” Ellie ran to the living room and turned the volume up.

My nemesis, Herbstreit, was announcing the top four teams. We all scurried into the living room.

“We’ve finally reached the moment we’ve all been waiting for. So, without further ado, the fourth ranked team in the nation, according to the playoff committee, is the Billingsley Bobcats.”

We went wild—screaming, jumping, high-fiving, hugging. Trent picked me up and spun me around. I laughed when he almost knocked the TV over, but he didn’t seem to mind. He kissed me until I was breathless and boneless.

Yells erupted from the park outside, and the entire town was no doubt hooting and hollering about their team making the National Championship playoffs.

“I can’t believe it.” I grinned so hard I worried my face might crack.

“Number three, according to the committee, is the Rangers.” Herbstreit revealed their names on a digital bracket board.

We all sat down, tacos forgotten, as the commentators discussed the picks and gave their opinions on who numbers one and two should be.

“Come on. Eagles need to be number one. I want them right out of the gate.” I willed Herbstreit to do the right thing.

He stood in front of the bracket and announced that the Tigers had been selected as the number two team. And, as there was only one other no-loss team left, he filled in the top of the bracket. Number one—the Eagles.

“Yes!” I rocketed to my feet and fist-pumped like I was in a music video from the nineties. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Trent yanked me into his lap and kissed me again. “I love it when you get scrappy.”

“Get used to it.” I bit his jaw, and he squeezed my ass.

Landon stood and clapped. “Taco time!”

Our phones were going crazy with notifications. I called Dad and could barely make out his words, he was so excited. Mrs. Trapper congratulated us, too.

Then I put my phone on silent, enjoyed the company of my friends, and had a wonderful taco Tuesday.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

T
RENT

“
I
T’S GOING TO BE
fine.” Cordy powdered her nose for the third time since we’d left Billingsley to drive to my mother’s house. “She already loves you. I’ll just have to convince her that I’m not so bad. Doable.”

I took the interstate exit and drove up the curvy road that led to the Carrington summer home, one of many, but my favorite by far. “She’s never been a warm person, Cordy. Not like you.”

“I get that. I do.” She clapped her compact closed. Her forest green dress gave her skin an even more luminous glow, and the way she’d done her hair made her look like a silver screen bombshell. Beautiful.

“She’s just a hard woman.”

“It’s because she thinks I’m after your trust fund.” She turned to me, her face a total deadpan. “And I am, of course. I set up this whole two-year estrangement and all just so I could eventually get my hands on your Scrooge McDuck-sized vat of cash.”

I laughed, the tension easing a little as she put her hand on top of mine. “Are you going to dive into it and swim around?”

“Every day. Twice on Sundays.” She smiled, at ease despite the fact that we were walking into a lion’s den.

“As long as you’re doing it nude, I’m all for it. That’s a particularly nice mental picture.”

She snorted. “As if there is any other way.”

I sped past the smaller houses at the base of the mountain, their Christmas lights warm in the cold night. Far above, the lights of my parents’ house shone through the trees every so often. Mom’s phone call had taken me by surprise, especially given the way we’d parted. But she mentioned how Dad wouldn’t have wanted us to be apart on Christmas. I agreed with everything she said until she made it clear Cordy wasn’t invited. Not a chance.

Mom had eventually given in, but I knew she would do everything she could to convince me I was making a mistake. Maybe Cordy could change my mom’s mind. It seemed impossible, but Cordy had surprised me plenty. Maybe she’d come out on top in the battle with my mom. Either way, Cordy was my future. If Mom couldn’t accept that, we had nothing more to discuss.

“This is your house?” Cordy’s eyes widened as I climbed the snaking driveway.

“Not mine, but yeah.”

Most houses in this part of the country were built of logs or painted in such a way as to blend in with the amazing Appalachian scenery. That didn’t work for my mother. Our house was a sprawling light gray mansion with large marble columns—imported from Italy—at each corner. A porch wrapped around the front with a separate balcony above that looked out on the sleepy valley below.

“I’ve never seen…” Cordy gawked at the immaculate lawn that tapered into well-kept flower gardens and then the darkened forest.

“I guess Mom had sort of a
Gone with the Wind
image when Dad told her he wanted to build a house in Tennessee.” I shrugged.

“This is unbelievable.”

I pulled up the drive along the side of the house and parked. “It’s just a house. It’s filled with things. They’re just things. Hey.” I put my fingers under her chin and drew her gaze away from the house and back to me. “You’re more important than any of this.”

“I-I’m just…” A corner of her lip turned up in a smirk. “I’m just glad that I picked you as my trust fund target. I chose wisely.”