Summer Lovin' (Fun For the Holiday's) Page 3

  DAMN GOOD AT HER JOB

  CREW

  I sat in my ridiculously oversize suite chair after showering, stared at Bart, and waited for Summer to arrive.

  “Be nice to her when she gets here.” I pointed at my fat Lab, his ears perking up at the sound of my voice.

  He gave me a low growl, and I narrowed my eyes.

  “Just don’t jump on her. And no slobbering.”

  Bart barked, so I took it as him agreeing with my demands even though we both knew that he’d do whatever he wanted the second she walked through the door anyway.

  I’d never had him trained. Bart wasn’t a bad dog by any means; he was just easily excited and liked to knock people on their asses. Not that I’d mind if Summer fell on her ass. I mean, I could be her knight in shining armor that way. Carry her from the floor and right into the bedroom, where I’d feast on her until she forgave my dog and forgot her own damn name.

  “Never mind, buddy. Jump all you want,” I said right as someone knocked on the door three times.

  Bart started barking as he ran to the source of the sound, blocking me from even getting to it.

  “Guard your loins, Duchess,” I yelled, and she complained from the other side as I shoved Bart with my knee to get him out of the way.

  Bart busted through the small opening I’d created and did exactly what I’d known he’d do. He knocked Summer right on her perfect ass. Papers spilled all over the floor, and I ran to her, apologizing, but she wasn’t even remotely pissed. She was laughing, grabbing Bart’s fat head and kissing him on his nose.

  My dog was getting more action from this woman than I was. He was going to have to go.

  “You didn’t tell me he was so cute,” she said through her giggles as Bart licked her face.

  Summer wiped it away, her blue eyes searching over my dog’s fat head to find mine. I extended a hand toward her, and she took it. I effortlessly pulled her up, like she weighed nothing—because I was strong, dammit, and manly, and tough.

  “Sorry for this knucklehead,” I said as I grabbed Bart by the collar and shoved him inside the room before shutting the door.

  “It’s okay. I don’t have a dog, and I miss it,” she said almost wistfully as we both bent down and started gathering up the papers that he’d scattered. “Thanks.”

  I handed her a fistful, and she shoved them back into a folder before standing up and straightening her skirt, which was now filled with blond dog hair.

  Pulling the key card from my back pocket, I swiped it against the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to walk through first, my eyes glued to her ass before she turned around and caught me.

  “Crew,” she pretended to scold, but I sensed somewhere deep down that she either liked or appreciated it.

  “You can’t blame me, Summer. It’s a fantastic ass,” I practically growled, hoping my dick wouldn’t get too hard.

  “You’re incorrigible,” she said, but there was a grin on her face.

  Once we were both inside, she stopped moving, her hand resting on Bart’s head as she waited for me to take the lead.

  “Let’s go over things at the table,” I directed, and she was off again, switching back into business mode.

  “Okay, these are the currently available furnished rentals that I emailed you. This is a map of the neighborhoods.” She pushed a picture toward me. “I circled the stadium and the training camp facility in blue. I also wrote how far each city was from both at the bottom there.” She pointed toward her perfect penmanship at the lower end of the map. She had written the number of miles and also how long my commute would be.

  “All of these places take dogs and are move-in ready?” I asked, studying the map like I had any fucking idea what it all meant. I wasn’t familiar with any of the actual cities in Los Angeles County or Orange County.

  “Yes. I’ve already contacted people at each place and told them our situation. They’re all waiting for my call once we decide. Oh shit,” she said before slapping her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize for swearing. It’s hot.” I gave her a wink, and she shook her head like she was tired of my shenanigans.

  “I found the car.”

  “Already?” I felt my pulse start to race as the little boy in me who was obsessed with nice cars started jumping up and down inside my body.

  “Yeah. Want to go see it?”

  “Hell yes!” I shouted, and Bart barked.

  “Perfect. We can talk about the housing while I drive us there,” she suggested before giving Bart a pouty look. “Will he be okay if we leave him alone?”

  I looked at my fat-headed Lab and gave him a pat. “He’ll be okay. Won’t you, boy?” I directed the last question toward Bart, who suddenly looked sad, like he knew I was heading out again.

  “Oh my God, Crew. Look at his face. He knows we’re leaving.” She sounded heartbroken. “How do you leave him every day? I can’t take it, and I just met him.”

  I watched as she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his thick neck, hugging him and not even caring how much hair was getting all over her clothes. I glanced down at my dick, willing it to behave because every single thing this woman did made me hard. It was ridiculous. She was a walking boner-giver.

  Pulling Summer to her feet, I stopped myself from yanking her straight into my arms and kissing her fuckable mouth. “Stop trying to steal my girl,” I admonished Bart instead as he wagged his tail at the two of us.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Summer said to my dog, bending over and giving him a kiss on the nose. “I’m not his girl.”

  “Stop doing things that make me want to punish you, Summer,” I warned, and she let out a gruff sound.

  “Get over yourself, QB-One,” she said, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t happening.” She wagged a finger between our two bodies, and she was damn lucky I didn’t grab the thing and start sucking on it before sticking it inside her, so she could feel how wet I made her.

  I took a menacing step toward her, so she would hear me loud and clear. “There’s attraction, and then there’s whatever this is between us,” I started to say. “I’m not sure it even has a name. You can try to fight it all you want, but I’ll have you know that I always win, Duchess.”

  She stepped back in response. “Except last season, right? Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place?”

  Ouch.

  Fuck.

  “That was mean. I’m so sorry,” she immediately apologized, and I knew that she meant it. “It’s just that what you’re saying and doing, Crew, I hear it all the time. Every single athlete I work for thinks he feels the way you do,” she explained, but I’d stopped listening after “every single athlete.”

  Just the thought of another man thinking that he could have her made me crazy. I wanted to break things, punch walls, throw shit through windows. It didn’t matter that we’d just met. I hadn’t been lying when I said that there was attraction and then there was whatever this was. This wasn’t something as simple as chemistry between two people. I’d experienced that a thousand times before. I was familiar with what lust or wanting to fuck someone and never see them again felt like.

  This. Wasn’t. That.

  “I’ll let it go,” I growled. “For now.”

  “Oh gee, thanks. How big of you,” she said.

  I stopped myself from saying something snarky in response. Yes, it took a lot of self-control, thanks for wondering.

  Once I was in the passenger seat of her Range Rover Sport, I opened the folder I’d grabbed before we headed out of the room and started looking at the printouts. I was thankful that Summer hadn’t given me twenty options to choose from. It was like she had known that would be way too many. There were only five, but each one was located in a different city that meant nothing to me.

  “If you were picking one of these, which one would you choose?” I asked because it seemed like the easiest way to at least start up the conversation.

  Marina del Rey meant as much to me as Manhattan Beach did. Cool names, but I had no clue where they were or what they were like.

  Summer glanced at me briefly, her eyes moving from my face to my shoulder, and I watched as she inhaled a little too quickly. Yeah, she liked what she saw. I was going to have to be shirtless the next time she came over.

  “That’s a tough question.” She paused before answering, “But I think I’d choose one of the beaches—Manhattan or Hermosa. It’s a little more laid-back than the other cities, and a lot of professional athletes already live in the area and actually have a life there, so it’s not like you’d feel like a prisoner, if that makes any sense.” She turned her head to look over her shoulder as she flicked the blinker and changed lanes, making her way toward the upcoming exit.

  “Meaning that I could go out and not get mobbed?” I asked because that was definitely a difficult thing to do regardless of where I lived.

  “In theory,” she said. “I mean, tourists might bother you. But most of the locals wouldn’t.”

  “Manhattan or Hermosa,” I said as I picked up the two options for each city and tossed the other three onto the floor of her car.

  Summer gave me a look as we stopped at a red light at the bottom of the exit. “My car is not a trash can.”

  “I’ll pick them up. I just need simplicity,” I said. It was true though. The less clutter my brain had to focus on, the better. I needed things simple, to the point, and obstacle-free. It was how I functioned the best. On and off the field.

  “We’re here,” she said.

  I looked up from the papers and out my window as we pulled into a Mercedes dealership, but instead of using the normal entrance, Summer continued driving toward the back before stopping her car near the service exit.

&nbs
p; “Can we look at both of these properties?” I asked, and she nodded.

  “I’ll set it up for tomorrow. Email me your practice schedule, so I can work around it.”

  “Okay,” I agreed before asking, “Will we have any houses to look at in that area too? To buy, I mean?” I didn’t want to start living somewhere and get comfortable there, only to pack up and move somewhere else six weeks later.

  “Oh, absolutely. I can definitely set that up if you like it enough. But let’s wait until we see these rental places in person. That way, you can check out the community and see if it’s your vibe or not.” She waved her hand in the air, and I stopped myself from laughing at her use of the word vibe. “Don’t give me that look,” she scolded, as if reading my mind. “You might not like the area. Maybe it will be too crowded, or feel too small, or too beachy,” she added, and this time, I did laugh.

  “Is there such a thing as too beachy?” I asked because I had no fucking idea what that even meant.

  “When you’re not a pro surfer, there can be. The beaches are a big draw here in SoCal, so they get crowded, and neither Manhattan or Hermosa is really that big of a city. So, they can get pretty jammed up really quickly.”

  “Gotcha,” I said even though everywhere I’d been so far in Los Angeles felt jammed up. Nothing was easy to get to. Everything took a fucking hour and a half, even when it was only twenty miles away.

  But I’d never lived by the ocean, and it sounded like a damn dream. If I was going to live in Los Angeles, I might as well do it right.

  HOUSE-HUNTING

  SUMMER

  I picked Crew up two days later in my car and did everything I could not to stare at his massive frame sitting in my passenger seat the entire time, like I’d done the other night. His broad shoulders were a work of art, but I refrained from telling him that—or drooling. Most guys in his position were slim while still managing to be strong, but I wouldn’t describe Crew that way at all. He was one of the more muscular quarterbacks I’d ever met.

  “How’s the G-Wagon?” I asked as soon as I pulled out of the hotel parking lot, referring to the gorgeous car he’d ended up buying.

  The look on his face when he’d sat inside of it was downright adorable. For once, he didn’t look like a professional football player or the starting quarterback for LA’s team, who was used to getting everything handed to him.

  No.

  Crew Maxwell had looked like an excited guy who couldn’t believe he was not only getting to drive the expensive car, but also take it home with him.

  “It drives like butter. Bart loves it,” he said, and I giggled.

  “You already took Bart for a ride?”

  “Right when I got home. Fucking thing’s already full of his hair, but whatever.” He waved it off like it was no big deal.

  “You could have brought him with us today, you know,” I said because this house was as much for Bart as it was for Crew.

  “Really? Do you think I should have?” Crew shifted in his seat, and I considered turning around.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I gave him a look. “I mean, he needs to love the house too, right?”

  “Shit,” he mumbled, and I knew what I needed to do. Putting my blinker on, I made a U-turn at the next light. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to get the new love of my life,” I said matter-of-factly. “You’ll run upstairs and get him while I fold the seats down.”

  “You’re a fucking dream,” Crew said, and I pretended like it didn’t matter. Like I hadn’t heard compliments like that a thousand times before. Because I had. From every single athlete who had come before him.

  No matter how much I wanted to believe him, I reminded myself that I couldn’t. That believing the words coming out of his mouth would only lead to heartbreak—mine.

  I stopped in front of the hotel entrance and worked on folding the seats down. They didn’t go all the way flat, but it would have to do. Hopefully, Bart would be okay and not slide all around as I drove and took turns. Before I knew it, both of the guys were downstairs, one of them wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of me.

  I leaned down and rubbed his head. “I feel the same way, buddy.”

  I was starting to get attached … to the dog.

  “Why don’t you greet me like that?” Crew complained as he lifted his giant dog into the back of my Range Rover.

  “Bart doesn’t want to sleep with me and never talk to me again,” I blurted out, wishing I could take it back as I moved into the driver’s seat to get away from my words, which now lingered in the air between us.

  Crew slammed the back door, hopped into the passenger side once more, and wrapped the seat belt around that too-sexy frame before reaching out and touching my hand with his. “You think I want to sleep with you and never talk to you again?”

  Dragging my hand out of his grip, I ignored the question, put the car in drive, rolled down all of the windows a bit so Bart could stick his head out, and started toward Manhattan Beach. His question wasn’t something I wanted to get into. He’d deny it, of course. They all had.

  He’d try to convince me how it wouldn’t be just a one-time thing or how he wasn’t like the other guys I’d worked with and how he would never treat me that way. All things that I’d heard before over the years. Just usually not this fast. I was afraid if Crew started pushing now and didn’t stop that I’d eventually give in. And for some reason, I just knew instinctively that it would hurt a hell of a lot more to learn that it wasn’t real for Crew than it ever had with that baseball player.

  So, I changed the subject. “I told you that Seline, my real estate agent and friend, was meeting us there, right?” I asked even though I knew that I had.

  Seline was already waiting at the rental property. She’d sent me a text a few minutes ago. She wanted to get a feel for what Crew’s taste was and talk to him a little about what he was looking for in a purchase home. Mostly, I thought she just wanted to meet him in person. I didn’t give her enough information about him every time she asked, and she was nothing if not impatient.

  “Yeah. Why is that again?”

  “She wants to see your reaction to the place, I think. It helps her match you to your dream home. She’s incredibly good at what she does,” I said, talking Seline up even though it was all the truth.

  Seline had some crazy natural gut instincts, which allowed her to never come off as pushy, and she seemed to know what would be a good fit for her client way before they ever figured it out on their own. It was part of the reason why she sold more houses than anyone I knew and without doing a single ounce of marketing. All of her business came from word of mouth and referrals.

  “Manhattan Beach first, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, not spilling the fact that I lived pretty close by and had basically driven back and forth this morning to get him.

  When our working relationship came to an end and everything he thought he felt for me went back to normal, my being that close to his living quarters might be an uncomfortable thing. So, I kept that detail close to the vest. There was no reason for him to know that information anyway. If we happened to run into each other at some point down the road, I was sure it would be like whenever I ran into any of my other previous clients … who had a gorgeous female by his side.

  So, why does that thought make me so sick to my stomach?

  As we neared the first house, I felt myself growing a little nervous. Seline was absolutely stunning. The type of woman I could see Crew with. And she was single. What if he liked her? Or even worse, what if she liked him?

  “Are you okay?” Crew’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to glance at him quickly.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You were making that face,” he said, as if he knew all of my faces already when there was zero chance of that being possible.

  “What face was that?” I pushed, anxious to hear his interpretation.

  “The overthinking, worried about something face,” he explained like he’d seen the expression a million times.

  I was pissed that he’d nailed it right on the head when he should have been far off, at best.