Be Mine (Jackson Boys 2)

“I don’t think you were the cause last time.”

There’s a note in Charlie’s voice that pings off a radar in my own head. “What do you know?”

“Nothing, really.”

I grab the bottle of wine and hold it over her head. “Tell me or I’m withholding your wine forever.”

Charlie frowns. “I don’t know exactly. I think Cass’s dad lived here in Dallas and was a real prick. She told me that it wasn’t safe here, but now it is.”

I lower the bottle onto the table and rub a hand under my chin. That’s more info on Lainey’s past than we knew before. “Should I hire the PI again?”

“I don’t think so. I would hate someone digging into my past. That’s such a huge invasion of privacy. It’s not like we have a reason, either, like we did before.”

“True.”

Charlie pats my hand. “You’re just going to have to be patient and wait for her to tell you.”

“Patience has never been my strong point.”

For the next few weeks, I do as Charlie recommends. While the guys pour into Stacks after practice and drool all over Lainey’s sensible shoes, I grip the frosty mug of my beer so hard I have grooves in my palms. While the baseball player who is getting a divorce from his third wife has Lainey running errands all over town, I bite my tongue so often until I swear it’s an inch shorter. While the two of them go out for a girls’ night dinner, I sit at home in the condo with my teammate Darnelle Wilson, watching game film.

Neither of us are actually watching it. I’m brooding about my lack of progress with Lainey and Darnelle hasn’t stopped texting his pregnant wife who is due in a couple of months.

“How’s Neda?” I ask, tired of being inside my own head.

“Good. She wants me to pick up candy canes. Can you even get those before December?”

“I have no clue. Maybe online? Why does she want candy canes?”

“It’s her new thing. She’s got these cravings for peppermints but doesn’t like any of the ones in the tins. She wants the candy canes. I think it reminds her of being a kid? I don’t know exactly.” His mouth twists into a frown. “The candy canes are the least of my problems.”

“How so?” Wilson is one of the jokesters on the team. He’s always telling some corny joke to lighten the mood. Seeing anything other than a smile on his face is rare.

“It’s just the pregnancy, man. It takes a lot out of a woman. Her body’s changing. She’s got someone growing inside of her and she’s got to be careful with what she eats and how she exercises. Neda’s active, but I don’t like it when she’s picking up groceries or shit because you never know. Something bad could happen. It’s pretty much a fucking miracle that these kids are born without more problems. It’s like anything could go wrong.”

“You should go home,” I tell him. Darnelle’s going to worry his fingers completely through his phone screen if he sits here any longer.

“Yeah, I probably should.” He gets up without argument and grabs his wallet. “Thanks for the beer.”

“No problem.” I see him out and then return to the couch. Neda doesn’t have anything to worry about. She’s got her husband and an army of staff to lend a hand. Lainey, on the other hand, was what—seventeen when she had Cassidy, and given that she doesn’t have any friends or family around, she was alone during that time period.

I guess that’s why she’s so independent now and why it’s hard for her to let anyone in. There are some that will say the game of football is complicated, but we have playbooks that detail out the different schemes each team runs. Study enough game film and no defense will be a surprise. I wish I could say the same about Lainey. There’s no written explanation I can follow or study.

I want to wrap her up in a blanket and make her sleep for a week. I want to tuck Cassidy under my arm and teach her what a nickel defense is. I want to fill this place with laughter and noise and crayons and small smiles and big belly laughs and sweet baby kisses and hot adult ones.

I want to peel off Lainey’s clothes until she’s wearing nothing other than her golden birthday suit and a saucy smile. I want to see her on her knees with her cherry lips around my dick, and I want to see her underneath me, writhing with pleasure as I pound into her.

My bloodstream fires up as I begin to imagine her laid out on my king-size bed with her hair flared out on the pillowcase like a fan. My ears fill with the sultry moans as she sighs my name after each stroke of my cock along her tight, wet channel.