Last Fall Read online

  And stupid Wes? All he did was shrug. “And it was worth five bucks to me to find out for sure. How else would I get these morons to help me set you up?”

  I took a few seconds to cool my head. “Stop,” I growled. “Stop this shit now. No more games. This isn’t funny.”

  “I know that. Don’t you get it? This woman you want? She’s basically my little sister. I love you, man. Love you like a brother, but this is not something I’m going to just be cool with.”

  “Fuck.” It was impossible for me think of Zoe as someone’s sister now. She was a woman. My woman. “This is rich coming from you.”

  I had a feeling he would have punched me for that if we weren’t sitting side-by-side in a booth. “You want to repeat that outside?”

  Damn, he was genuinely pissed. I wanted to irritate him, stick him where it hurt, but not send him into a nuclear rage. And right now, he was borderline.

  I held up my hands. “Sorry. That was low.”

  “Even before Carrie,” he shook his head, “I was never a jerk. The using was mutual.”

  “I know.” Wes loved women and as far as I could tell he usually made sure everyone had a good time. From the moment he met Carrie there was no one else. He was a totally reformed asshole completely loyal to his wife. “Carrie is off limits. I know that.”

  “Never forget that.” Then he relaxed. “And I will stop with Zoe now.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to do the friendly thing and let the whole subject drop, but apparently Wes couldn’t let it go. I was halfway through a nice, calming gulp of beer when he cleared his throat.

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Plan?”

  Wes shrugged. “You like her, she likes you, but you’re not dating yet. So what’s the plan?”

  Chris and Seth grinned. Apparently my love life was entertainment for everyone.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “What?” Seth shrugged. “Wes is married and boring now that he won’t tell us anything. I keep going back to Grace even though we’re a disaster. And Chris here has become a monk. You’re the most interesting thing we’ve got going right now.”

  “That’s because Chris went and moved to a remote island. What chance does he have for love?”

  “It’s not remote. It’s barely a longer commute than Randy has up in north Tampa. It’s a totally populated island. I’ve always wanted to live on an island.”

  That was way more explanation than I expected from my dig. “Feeling defensive there buddy? Something you want to share?”

  He glared at me. “You want some fishing tips? Because that’s what I’m doing on my days off.”

  “See?” Seth groaned. “Boring monk.”

  “Why do you keep sleeping with Grace?” Maybe if I kept bringing up stuff until the food arrived they’d forget to bug me.

  He shrugged. “The sex is amazing. We just can’t do anything outside the bed together. She’s a bitch.”

  “And you’re a loser,” Wes shrugged. “Makes sense. She freaky?”

  “Just because you alone keep the sex toy industry in business doesn’t mean we all do,” I said.

  “Hey,” he spread his hands wide, “I may not be able to offer any fun stories anymore, but I am happy to provide product reviews.”

  “No thank you,” Chris muttered, sitting back so our waitress could put all our food down on the table. It also allowed him a good vantage point for admiring her assets. The man may be a monk, but he wasn’t blind. Not sure what was going on with him, but it was something.

  My hopes for food distraction were immediately dashed. “So tell us about her,” Chris said.

  “I’d tell you to read one of her books to get to know her, but you don’t read.” I knew there was still a long list of things to learn, but her books said a lot about her. Her humor. Her intellect. Even the way she spoke came across in the dialogue.

  “No,” Chris said, holding up a French fry, “but I do watch movies. If they ever make one of her books into a movie, I’ll watch that.”

  “They actually are. A big studio bought it right away and they already have the movie moving forward.”

  “Really? What’s it called?”

  I didn’t know why it would matter to Chris but I answered. “The book is called The Fight at Midnight Springs.”

  “You’re shitting me.” He dropped his fry. “Seriously? Your lady wrote that book?”

  Since it wasn’t even out yet I was seriously confused how Chris, a man who did not read, knew that. “Yes . . . ”

  “My brother Scott is in it. He’s one of the executive producers, too.”

  Wes started laughing. “I fucking love our small little world. Zoe’s going to lose it when she realizes that connection.”

  “I read some lines with him two weeks ago when we were in LA. It was intense.”

  A little bit of jealousy hit me in the gut. Chris had read something of Zoe’s that I hadn’t. “She’s a great writer.”

  “You should read one of her romances,” Wes quipped. “Try one of the Mayhem series. It will help you improve your game.”

  Chris threw a fry at him. “I don’t need any help with women.”

  “You’d be surprised how much you don’t know about women until you read a book written by a woman about what women want.”

  Chris and Seth both looked at him like he was nuts, but I knew he was right. At least about Zoe’s books.

  “So what’s the hold up? She not into you?” Seth asked, turning conversation back to my dating life.

  I could feel Wes’s eyes on me.

  Waiting for me to say the wrong thing so he could beat the crap out of me. I made a mental note to be nicer to my sister’s boyfriends and husbands.

  “She’s got some baggage.”

  Chris waved at me to continue. “Does she have a kid or something?”

  “No. I don’t know for sure but . . . her ex was a problem.” I didn’t want to make guesses.

  I looked up from my food when I realized everyone was staring at me. “What?”

  “He hurt her?” Seth asked really quietly.

  I shrugged. “I just told you I don’t know for sure.”

  “What do you know?” Chris asked.

  I noticed Wes just kept staring at me.

  “I know she doesn’t feel safe alone with men. I know she left everything behind three years ago and you don’t do that unless it’s bad. I know she’s scared shitless of feeling anything.” I balled up the paper napkin in my hand and threw it on top of my half-eaten sandwich.

  My appetite was gone.

  “Fucker,” Chris muttered. The look on Seth’s face was equally disgusted.

  And this was why I hung out with these guys off the field. They weren’t perfect, but we all shared the same general outlook on life.

  “When I saw her last weekend I could see how torn up she was and I realized this isn’t something I can push too hard for. She still gets scared alone with me. Me.” I was a big guy, but I wasn’t scary. I generally thought of myself as the opposite of scary. “So for now we hang out. And we’ll hang out until that changes.”

  I didn’t know what Wes was thinking until after we paid our bill and headed out. He stopped me at the curb outside our rental car. “Thank you,” he said, raw emotion breaking the words up. Then he hugged me hard, once, nodded, and ducked into the car.

  11

  ERIK

  Mind If I Sit?

  I met Zoe outside the arena so I could escort her up to our box and damn did she look good. Blue jeans that hugged every curve I wanted to touch, a practical pair of sneakers for walking, and a blue Mantas t-shirt.

  Sexy as fuck.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  She shrugged. “Happy to help.”

  “It’s good to see you. I missed you this week.”

  She nodded as we walked inside the building and over to a private elevator. “Two wins and a loss. You’re still looking good for the playoffs.”

&nbs
p; The fact that she knew that made me want to do very dirty things to her. To me, the perfect woman was sexy, sure. I mean, what guy doesn’t dream of sexy women? But looks only got me hot. To keep me hot and bothered, I knew I wanted more. A woman who knew sports, who had smart mouth?

  Damn . . . “Did you watch the games?”

  “I had them on in the background while I worked.”

  The elevator started moving with a jerk. “You want help putting that on?” I waved at the jacket in her arms.

  “Oh, sure.”

  I held it up while she slipped in. The elevator doors opened. “This way.” I led her down the corridor to our box. It was just a scrimmage game so the arena wasn’t full and everything was fairly relaxed. Every step we took I was more and more aware of the silence, more aware that I was fucking nervous.

  And if I was nervous, then she probably was too.

  So I stopped her outside the door. “Did you have a good week?”

  “Yeah. I wrote a lot. Writing helps when I have a lot on my mind.”

  It was unnatural that we had two feet between us. I didn’t like the distance at all. Now, more than ever, I was positive that once Zoe and I bridged this gap I was never letting her go. We would hold hands, I would put my arm around her, we would kiss and hug and gross everyone out.

  It was just the way it was going to be with us.

  So even though I wanted to pull her against me so I could wrap her up, even though I knew a hug and a kiss would relax her, I didn’t have that right yet. So I kept my hands to myself. “I thought about you a lot this week.”

  “I thought about you too.”

  Oh thank god. “I wished I could call you, but since we hadn’t talked about that, I didn’t.”

  Her cheeks turned red. “You wanted to call me?”

  “Yeah. I like talking to you, Zo.”

  She looked down at our feet. “I think maybe next time you should call then.”

  I couldn’t help myself. There was only so much restraint I could have around her. I cupped her cheek and gently urged her to look back up at me. “Then next time I’ll call.” All the blood in my head surged south. Painfully so.

  She leaned into my hand and I about lost it. My mind. My control.

  My load.

  “You know, as scared as I am about how I feel around you, I was even more scared you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

  Fuck control. I stepped into her and put my other hand on her opposite cheek. “You’re the only one I want to see. I hate not seeing you at all. Ever.”

  She did this soft little sigh thing and her green eyes softened. “Same.”

  I wanted to kiss the ever-living crap out of her. But instead I kissed her forehead. “Let’s go inside before I maul you.”

  She laughed and it was the best sound in the world because it meant she wasn’t put off by the truth of what I said.

  “You think that’s funny?”

  She shot me a sexy smile over her shoulder as I reached for the door. “Not funny, Erik. Fun. I think . . . I think I’m finally starting to have some fun.”

  I opened the door and while I was blocked from everyone inside, I did a victory fist-pump before heading in.

  “Swanky,” she said, looking around, hands shoved in her coat pockets. It was a nervous little gesture. One step better than wrapping her arms around her middle.

  “Let me introduce you to everyone. Jack?” My older brother turned away from the food, a sandwich in his hand and his mouth stuffed full like he was still some college frat bastard living off of every scrap of food he could find.

  Some things never changed.

  “Hey E.”

  Zoe glanced between us and I think she caught on pretty quick that we were brothers. The resemblance was uncanny, or so I’d been told repeatedly my whole life.

  “Jack, swallow for fucks sake.” He gulped it all down and grabbed a napkin, wiping his fingers clean before holding it out for a handshake. “This is my friend Zoe Burke. The writer.”

  Not that he really needing prompting. The minute I brought up Zoe he had questions.

  And questions and questions.

  Jack smiled warmly. “Talk some sense into our sister. Please?”

  Zoe relaxed. “So you’re both in on this, huh?”

  “We both care,” Jack corrected, “and we’re both meddling older brothers. So yeah.”

  Zoe smiled at that comment.

  That’s right. We’re the good guys.

  “Well it’s very nice to meet you, Jack.”

  “And you as well, Zoe. Can I get you a drink?”

  I wandered behind them a little. Close enough to eavesdrop but far enough away that I didn’t interfere with their conversation. It was pretty standard getting to know you stuff. What do you like to drink? How do you know Erik? What do you write?

  “Oh my god. You’re Zoe Hyde. The Zoe Hyde? Holy shit!” Jack turned a little red like a good fan boy. I intentionally forgot to mention exactly how successful a writer my writer friend was.

  But then Zoe turned red like she was embarrassed too. And that was weird because Zoe did the fan thing all the time. She went to signings. She did podcast stuff. She even did interviews from time to time. It didn’t occur to me she might react like this.

  “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” She ran her lower lip through her teeth, her eyes darting my way.

  Looking for support? From me? Hell yeah. I gave her a reassuring smile and sure as shit, she brightened a little, taking a quick breath.

  “So what is it you do, Jack?”

  My big brother set his water on the counter and grabbed his blazer. “I’m the head coach of the Miami Pythons and duty, unfortunately, calls.”

  Zoe’s mouth fell open. “Why are you up here?”

  He laughed. “Family first. Plus I wanted to meet you.” He finished shrugging into his blazer and stuck out his hand. “Besides this is just a friendly scrimmage game. They don’t need me yelling at them until right before they hit the ice.”

  Zoe shook his hand looking a little dazed. “Well it was good to meet you, Jack.”

  “And you, Zoe. I hope you’ll join us for dinner afterward? I promise the Cassidy clan isn’t too scary when we’re together.”

  He punched me in the arm on the way, then wrapped me up in a hug. “We’ll talk after?”

  “Meet you at Tuscany.”

  My attention was already square on Zoe. I tried to be cool as Jack sauntered out the door of the box, but really, I was just staring at how beautiful she was the whole time.

  “So that’s Jack.” I really hoped he hadn’t rattled her too hard.

  “He seems really nice.”

  A very basic comment. I wanted more. At least an idea of what was going on in that head of hers. “He’s a year older than me and a least a year uglier.”

  She giggled, just the way I hoped. “Does everyone in your family work in sports?”

  “Nope. We’re not like the Daniels. Jack was always into hockey. He played in the NHL for two seasons before he transitioned into coaching. I don’t know that I’d be where I am today without him.”

  I tried tempting her with menu options but she waved them off. “And everyone else?”

  “Not in sports.”

  “Are you being coy?”

  “No.” I really wasn’t. “I just have a lot of siblings. I didn’t want you to fall asleep while I named them all.”

  She laughed. “I don’t even know their names. That seems like something I should know.”

  She had a very good point. “Well, Jack’s the oldest and I’m second in line. Then there’s Ana and Elena. Ana is a nurse and Elena is a physician’s assistant. Then there’s the brat pack, Roberto and Nacho.”

  “Nacho?”

  Some nicknames stuck harder than others. “Short for Ignacio. They’re a year apart just like me and Jack. They’re just as close as we are, too. They both went into banking. After Nacho is Jane, she’s actually our free spirit. She’s currently workin
g as an au pair in France but in October she’s joining a friend on a crew as a steward. They’ll be working on a yacht moving from Alaska to Mexico for the winter.”

  “Wow. It seems like you all like to work in pairs.”

  She wasn’t wrong. “That brings us to Belle.”

  “The writer who doesn’t want to be a writer?”

  “Bingo. She thinks she wants to go into financial planning like Rob and Nacho, but, if we’re following this pairing theory, she really belongs in the free spirit category.” I swear even the universe saw this.

  “I like your logic, even if it is flawed.”

  And I liked the way Zoe smiled. “Just talk to her. I respect your opinion.” If after today she said Belle wasn’t cut out for writing I’d let it go, support my sister in her plans. But if Zoe said there was something—and I swear there was—then I wasn’t going to stop nudging her to at least try.

  She didn’t have to travel the world with a backpack and notebook like Jane, but she could go to a writing conference or join a writing group, couldn’t she? Baby steps were still steps.

  “You ready to meet her?”

  She looked around the room. “How many of your siblings are here?”

  “Just Jack and Belle. She came up with Jack for the game. Everyone else was too busy for a scrimmage game.”

  She leaned closer. “Then who are all these people?”

  “Mostly friends of Jack. Which means you should steer clear of them. They’re as dumb as he is.”

  “I heard that Erik the Dead.” Jack’s best friend Riley shouted over his shoulder.

  “See? Can’t even come up with good nicknames after ten years.”

  Riley turned and shot me a dirty glare. “Ten years of putting up with your whiney little baseball ego.”

  I waved him off as Zoe laughed.

  Again.

  This was becoming a pattern.

  “Come on. Let me introduce you to the tiny terror.”

  She snorted. “I’m pretty sure that’s what Wes called me before he decided on Pixie.”

  Speaking of which . . . “I never got a chance to thank you.”

  “Thank me for what?”

  Fuck, I loved when she looked up at me like that. “Anyone who knows Wes, myself included, thoroughly enjoyed watching him loose his shit over Carrie. The way you two toyed with him—”