#playerdown: Players to Men Read online

  No, I still haven’t gotten over that nightmare. And I didn’t care if I sounded like a baby.

  Exhaling a weary sigh, as if he’d walked all the way from the city to here, he said, “Very well, climb on my back, Princess. I need my hands, you know, to fight off overgrown tree limbs that think to attack or serpents if need be.”

  He turned, offering me his back.

  Argh, I hated the Princess nickname more than when he called me Blue. The former, a label one of my mother’s exes called me. The patronizing ass thought he was being charming. At ten, I was painfully shy and loathed being their shadow and having to pretend we were a happy family when, in reality, he just tolerated me because of my mother.

  At the humor in War’s tone, my irritation won over my fear, and I pushed him away and scrambled down.

  War shut the truck door, grabbed his sports bag from the back, got out the keys from his jeans pocket—

  A plaintive meow had me spinning around.

  There, on the second shelf opposite us, bright amber eyes blinked from the shadows. A half-grown, black and gray kitten with white paws crouched on the wood, watching us.

  “Come here, little guy,” I crooned.

  “It’s a stray,” War said.

  “And you just left him alone?” I demanded.

  He gave a wry shake of his head, hitching his bag to his shoulder.

  I reached up and gently gathered the kitten. “Don’t listen to the bad man. I’ll take care of you.” I cuddled the feline and pivoted—a tinny sound erupted as I kicked something. A small metal bowl upturned on the floor, water splashing on the dusty cement. Another one had bits of brown lumps in it. Kibble.

  Darn, I did put my foot into it, literally.

  “Okay, maybe he isn’t so bad,” I whispered to the kitten, who seemed happy to be in my arms. “What’s his name?” I asked War as he opened the door into a mudroom with coat hooks and shelves for shoes.

  “I don’t name strays.”

  The kitten didn’t look like a stray. He appeared fed, healthy…yeah, not falling for that line again.

  War unlocked the inner door into a small hallway, with an open door on the right revealing the laundry area. He headed into the sprawling, airy open-plan space with polished hardwood floors and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the massive backyard. The smell of timber, varnish, and dust permeated the air. The kitchen stood denuded with bare skeleton frames for the cupboards in progress, but it already possessed brand-spanking-new appliances.

  The island counter appeared to be somewhat finished, done in rich cherry wood, and sporting a charcoal gray granite countertop and sink. He must have been working on this for a while.

  The kitchen flowed into the dining-slash-living room. Tarp covered the floor abutting the walls. But only the sitting room possessed furniture—a black sectional and a huge flatscreen TV.

  “Whose bright idea was it to do the floors first?” I asked, stroking the kitten. “Wouldn’t you paint the walls and finish the kitchen cupboards and stuff?”

  He dropped his truck keys on the island countertop and cut me an amused smile. “Not me. The previous owners. I liked it and didn’t want it ruined, so I covered it.”

  The kitten suddenly leaped off me and onto War.

  He sighed, cradling the furball in his muscular arms. “I can’t carry you around, Crash. You need to go and play. I have work to do.”

  “Crash? Really? I thought he’d be Puck or something.”

  The corners of his mouth tipped up in a smile. And my belly squeezed seeing this softer side of him.

  Trying to keep my attention off him, I glanced out through the scenic kitchen window, and my jaw dropped, taking in the nightmare outside. Jesus. There were super thick bushes on the sides of the property line and a massive tree on the left with branches stretching out, dropping leaves, but the grass and weeds alone were a veritable wilderness.

  The only highlight was the sunny white daisies growing abundantly around the large, terra-cotta tiled patio and steps, brightening the forlorn state of the overgrown yard. “The flowers are so pretty.” But heck, he wasn’t kidding about the weeds. “This will take weeks,” I moaned.

  “Are you offering?” he teased, setting the kitten down and coming to stand next to me. “I’m in for free slave labor.”

  Without thinking, I smacked him in the abs with the back of my hand. Heat rushed to my cheeks, my breath tangled in my throat at the contact of all those hard muscles.

  “As if. One week, and I’m out of here.” I quickly pivoted for the old, scarred table near the window and dropped my tote on it. But the feel of his tough body, brief as it was, remained imprinted on my skin, scattering my thoughts.

  Then, all casual-like, as if not affected at all, I walked across, opened the door, and stepped outside into the cool morning air, gently caressing my face. I inhaled deeply, the scent of sea and grass teasing my nose.

  The trees at the edges of the property allowed fleeting glimpses of the beach, and the ankle-tall grass swayed—

  Shit! I hurriedly stepped back, searching the place for anything slithering in the grass, but found no suspicious movements. Just the breeze, then.

  Okay, okay. Good. A relieved sigh escaped me.

  “You’ll be safe,” War drawled, joining me outside and enfolding me with his tempting pine forest and woody scent. “I read somewhere that when you have a cat around, then there isn’t much snake activity.”

  Ugh, really? But I heard the smile in his voice.

  “Crash’s one tiny baby, and snakes are…” I shuddered. “Devious!” I cut him a quelling stare, causing his amusement to grow.

  “Don’t worry, Blue,” his voice lowered. “I’ll save you.”

  My stomach dipped. Gah, this man!

  “If you remove some of those overhanging branches,” I hastily waved a hand at the giant oak tree, listing a little to the side, to get the conversation off me. “You’ll have an amazing view.” The place under it was grassless and sandy, carpeted with decaying leaves. “And the grass would grow back.”

  “That’s the plan,” he murmured as the kitten joined us. Then Crash shot into the overlong grass and started stalking a butterfly.

  “I’d show you around, but there’s not much to see,” War said, the wind tousling his sun-streaked hair. “Upstairs has the master bedroom leading out to a sundeck. Down here, two more bedrooms. Feel free to explore.”

  “Maybe later.” I was curious, but I didn’t want him to know that. “Let me get started. Where do you want cleared out first?” I asked as we entered the house. I removed my hoodie and tossed it on the table.

  “Anywhere you like. I have someone coming in to remove that tree.” He nodded to the side of the massive yard where the oak grew at a slanted angle, appearing as if it was about to tip over. Its enormous roots disrupted the even flow of the garden.

  “Come on, I have gardening tools in the garage.”

  Five minutes later, armed with the implements I needed, and after watching War fill the kitten’s bowls with kibble and water, I stepped out into the sunlight. Man, such a beautiful morning, and I had to weed.

  War’s cell rang, and he answered it with a quick, “I’ll meet you out front.” Then to me, he said, “They’re here. I’ll be right back.”

  No wonder he dragged my butt out of bed so early. I might as well get started.

  AirPods popped into my ears, I cranked up the music. As Billie Eilish crooned huskily, I started on the weeds…I was hacking at a stubborn-ass one with tall, dark green blades, when War and three guys walked past. One carried a chainsaw, another a ladder.

  War didn’t look my way, deep in conversation with the older man with graying dark hair. I lowered the volume on my AirPods. The men nodded in greeting, then War’s blue stare met mine briefly. Someone called out a “Hello.”

  The flaxen-haired guy smiled. He appeared the youngest of the trio. Both the younger guys resembled the older man a lot with their wiry builds and sharp
features. They had to be family.

  “Morning,” I murmured, watching as they set the ladder down. Then the droning of the chainsaw started, and they got to work.

  I cranked up the music once more and fought my battle with the intractable weed.

  After a while, I glanced back at the trio working on the tree. War stood there, his back to me, hands on his hips, head tilted up to observe the decimation of the great tree.

  The older man had already scaled the ladder resting against the massive trunk, chainsaw in hand, and was sawing a thick branch. The younger guys carefully lowered the heavy bough to the ground, which was covered with even more leaves and twigs now due to their efforts.

  War helped the older brother carry the huge branches to the truck they probably had waiting out on the driveway, the pair of them disappearing around the corner of the house.

  The blond grabbed more of the scattered branches, dumping them together, then he glanced my way, hesitating for a second before strolling over.

  I removed my earbuds.

  “Hi, I’m Aaron.” He raked back his fair hair, mussing it even more. He appeared to be in his late teens.

  “Charli,” I said, pulling off my ball cap and fanning my flushed face as the sun beat down on us.

  “You look hot—” A blush reddened his face. “I mean with the weather being hot,” he choked off. “Not that you aren’t hot, shit—”

  To save him, I laughed and pushed to my feet. “It is quite warm. Water?” I asked.

  “Hell, yes, please.” He followed me to the open kitchen door. “So you’re working here, too. You a landscaper?”

  “No, nothing so professional.” I huffed out a laugh. “I’m just a friend. Cheap labor,” I muttered, wiping my sweaty face on my t-shirt sleeve.

  Then he stared. “Whoa, you’re the girl from Instagram. You’re War’s girlfriend?”

  Oh, man. What a tangled web I weaved.

  Why couldn’t I be Pestilence’s girlfriend? Then I could get him to smite everyone and escape this interrogation. War would just create chaos. His moniker was so darn apt.

  Wait, he started this with his refusal to have that darn pic taken down.

  But you took it a step further.

  Ugh, stupid conscience.

  All I wanted was to get him to make a retraction of what he implied about us being a couple, but I’d taken the kissing snapshot of us and posted it. He’d called my bluff. Worse, the photo had clearly gone viral by now. Gah!

  Aaron glanced back to the side of the house where War and the brother had gone with the debris. “Your boyfriend’s a terror on ice. I saw him smash someone’s face in once. Blood everywhere.” I frowned. Aaron grinned. “When that guy loses his temper, the devil probably runs. He’s one hell of a player.”

  Did he think I wanted to know all this? I shuddered, despite the heat. But I heard the awe in his voice. “Yes, a real ace on ice,” I muttered dryly.

  “More like a demon.” He smirked. “No one takes his puck.”

  Thankfully, I’d never seen War play and never would. Sports violence? Yeah, so not me. I prefer my quiet time hanging with my friends or my books, or stuffing myself with chocolate and watching Netflix.

  To get him off the subject of his man crush, I gave him a brilliant smile and said, “Let me get the water.”

  The fridge was stocked with Aquafina and sodas but no beers? Hmm.

  I got some water bottles and went back outside, handing Aaron three.

  “Thanks.” He headed for the older guy. “Dad, catch,” He tossed one of the bottles.

  Yup, called that relationship. Biting off a grin, I went back to my tiny, cleared patch. Jeez. It was already mid-morning, and I’d made so little headway. This yard was damn enormous. It would fit a huge swimming pool easily and still have space for a basketball court and then some.

  Sighing, I sat down, glaring at the tenacious, matted weeds that had had their way for too long, then tugged again. Darn weeds. Stubborn, just like their new owner.

  “This is how you get them out,” Aaron said, holding a small hand hoe with a sharp, angled blade in his hand. “Use this. It’s good for getting into the hard-to-remove ones. Let me show you.” He knelt at my side and worked the tool effortlessly into the ground. Of course. I sighed. Well, he did have more muscles than me.

  I sipped more of my water.

  “So, you and War, huh?” He looked up, pulling out a thick knot of weeds, brown eyes curious. “You both just casual or…? I mean, you said friends?”

  I lowered my bottle, knew this was coming after my slip from earlier. Double damn. I hurriedly deflected, “You make this look so easy—”

  “Makes what look easy?” War asked.

  I jumped, my heart knocking around hard in my chest, and glanced up, shading my eyes from the sun. War loomed over us. His expression appeared calm, his stare almost hypnotic…like a snake’s, and a little too cold.

  “Oh, Aaron was showing me how to get the more stubborn weeds out,” I said airily.

  Aaron shot me a big smile, handed me the hoe, then rose and wandered back to his father, who shook his head.

  “He makes it look so easy. Of course, he has more muscles than me,” I tacked on. And those deep blue eyes narrowed. Yup, brain and mouth never did connect at the same time for me. A change of conversation was urgently required at the storm clouds gathering in his darkening stare. “I think he was about to ask me for your autograph.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  I rolled my eyes, set my water down, and went back to work. Best to retreat while I could.

  “You don’t have to break your back, Charli,” he said then, irritation embedded in every syllable. “Take a break. Eat something. I have food in the freezer. Most is prepared, just pop it into the oven.”

  What? He wanted me out of the way now?

  “By the way—” I glowered at him, keeping my voice low. “He thinks I’m your girlfriend. I didn’t correct him, but you need to fix that mess fast.”

  “Did you tell him you put up the snapshot of your hockey player boyfriend?” he asked softly, the storm cloud glare dissipating. “You know, the kissing one?”

  My face flared hotter than the sun.

  “Just so you understand, Blue, he comes near you, I will toss him into the sea.” He swiped my water, guzzled some, shoved the bottle in my hand, and stalked off.

  Jesus. Territorial much?

  I didn’t know what to make of him. Or why he was in a shitty mood.

  Either way, I didn’t care. He had to fix this mess—untangle this web I was caught in—fast. My mother was probably halfway over the Atlantic and likely hadn’t accessed her social media yet. Or else, I would already be assailed with messages and calls. And that, I didn’t want. Mother might screw her life over with her choices in men, but mine she watched like a hawk.

  She hadn’t liked Craig, and she’d made it known how poor my choices in men were.

  Yeah, no. I certainly didn’t need further disruptions in my life.

  5

  CHARLI

  Twilight had settled over Santa Cruz as we left the beach house and headed back to the city.

  At the thought of going back home, I wondered if my mother was back from her heartbreak cruise. She’d been gone for over two weeks after her most recent divorce.

  Darn. I needed to get an apartment sorted out ASAP. I liked having my own space, and besides, with separate living accommodations, my mother and I got along much better. More, I prayed this trip would make her take a step back from her usual divorce-and-marry-again mode. But she’d promised, so…

  I exhaled deeply and hung on to the hope.

  “Tired?” War asked, breaking the silence between us.

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  I could feel his stare like a tangible touch. Yeah, like I was going to tell him about my shaky relationship with my mother. “Nothing. I’m okay.”

  He had the window open. The breeze h
ad already dried his freshly showered hair, and now it ruffled the sun-kissed strands. How could he still look so alert when I knew after the tree chopping and roots excavation, he had cleaned out the area, then started trimming the shrubs bordering the property? And here I sat, like a wilted weed, not that I’d done anything strenuous, except sit on my ass and work.

  I refastened my hair, still damp from my shower, into a topknot and frowned as he slowed the truck and took a road that was definitely not the way back to San Francisco.

  My gaze veered from left to right, then to him. “Where are we going?”

  “Our date, remember?”

  “What?” I leaped upright, but my seat belt kept me restrained. “Oh, no! You can’t be serious?”

  “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Blue,” he said, his attention on the busy road. “Besides, you don’t need to dress up for the Boardwalk. Your shorts and tee—shit! You are tired. And I’m an ass.” He slowed to the curb, waiting to make an illegal U-turn.

  “I’m not tired.” I sighed. Well, maybe a little. My fingers ached, as did my numb ass, but still. This morning when he said a date, I assumed maybe when the week was up, and I could find an excuse and weasel out. Not hours later.

  He cast me a contemplative stare as if debating whether I was telling him the truth. Then he nodded and drove on, heading toward the busy parking lot.

  Minutes later, we joined the crowd surging through the entrance, the blaring music, loud laughter, and noisy chatter welcoming us. But damn, with the breeze and fog coming off the ocean, it was chilly here. I slid my hands into my hoodie pockets, grateful for the warm layer.

  “Food first, then we enjoy the attractions and rides,” he said, ushering me along.

  “The rides are closed.” I pointed to a notice at the entrance. “Only the arcade’s open now.”