Grinder (Seattle Sharks 1)

“Okay, well the offer always stands. I don’t mind.” She crossed her arms under those perfect breasts. “It’s not like I have a boyfriend or much of a social life outside Jeanine and Paige.”

I opened the water bottle and took a few quick chugs. “Yeah, and your friends are always welcome here. Seriously. This is your house now, too.”

Her smile was small but genuine. “That means a lot.”

I nodded awkwardly. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Later.”

I ran out of there so fast the room may as well have been on fire and headed down to the lowest level of the house until I got to my gym. The floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to a view of Lake Washington, where the sun was in that last moment of setting.

I powered on the treadmill, slipped my earbuds in, turned up the Eminem and hit it. My heartbeat was steady as my feet pounded at the machine beneath me, my breathing even. Maybe I wasn’t that badly out of shape after all.

After taking most of the last season off when I tore the fuck out of my shoulder, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back to the Sharks, but the coach kept me on the roster, and I was still leading for my position if that baby of a rookie didn’t beat me out for it.

Fuck that, it’s mine.

Yeah, six months ago I couldn’t have run at this speed without screaming in agony. Six months ago I’d still been in a sling, still broken as fuck from the way Helen left us.

And then Bailey had walked back into my life, fresh out of her graduate degree at Cornell. It wasn’t fate, I wasn’t fucking stupid. It was our mothers pushing us together, not romantically—they weren’t stupid either—but I needed help, and Bailey needed a job until she figured out what the hell she was going to do with her life...and her double degree in Art and Philosophy.

It had been perfect until I’d seen her again. The girl she’d been while we grew up, while I went to college at U-Dub and she went Ivy...well, she was long gone. It wasn’t like she’d had one of those chick-flick makeovers, no, she’d always been pretty, doe-eyed, and just as beautiful inside than out. But now…

Fuck, now she was a knock-out and seemed unaware of it somehow.

And worse, it was like my body had fucking Bailey-radar. She came into a room, I got hard—even when I reminded my body that she was a no-go.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like sex.

Fuck, I loved sex.

I adored women.

I fucked a lot of women.

Then they left.

The first woman I’d ever loved had left while I begged her to stay…

Now they left because I told them to...Let’s be fair, it’s not like they didn’t know that was part of the package while I was dropping their panties.

I said I fucked women...I didn’t fuck over women.

There was a difference.

Of course, they were all blonde lately. Anyone blonde or red-haired, but never brunettes. Never anyone I could accidentally mistake for Bailey.

I was never going there, and it didn’t matter how badly my dick begged otherwise.

If she wasn’t off limits because we’d grown up together—our mothers were best friends—she was definitely unfuckable because at the heart of everything, she belonged to Lettie.

And I didn’t steal anything from my daughter.

Hell no, she deserved the world, and that was exactly what I was going to give her.

At mile number three, I ripped off my shirt, wiping the sweat off my forehead before tossing it and hitting two more miles. Nothing like a little run to get out some sexual frustration.

It would pass. I’d get used to having Bailey here. She’d become like a sister, and all these sexual urges would fade. It wasn’t like she had them. Fuck, then we’d both be in trouble.

But it was just horny-as-hell me, lusting after the girl I’d never had, and I wasn’t a little boy anymore. I was a full-grown man, a forward for the Seattle Sharks NHL team, and the best damned grinder in the league. More importantly, I was Lettie’s dad, and since her mother had about as much maternal instinct as a fucking rock, I was all Scarlett had.

I had to be enough.

Better than enough.

I had to be everything.

Mile six sounded, and I lowered the speed of the treadmill, rolling my shoulders and stretching out my muscles before I headed up to the shower.

That was exactly what I needed. I congratulated myself for running out my baser needs instead of jumping my nanny as I walked up the stairs. Look at me, all civilized and shit.

I was so focused on my feet that I didn’t realize Bailey was on the steps to the third floor until I nearly ran into her.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said, catching her very smooth, very bare shoulders.

“Oh, my fault! Lettie asked for more water, so I took her up a glass,” she said, but I barely heard her.

Fuck my life. Is that what she slept in? The light purple silk shorts barely covered her thighs and the spaghetti straps on the matching top looked flimsy enough to break. With my teeth.

One. Good. Bite.

“Gage?”

My eyes slid shut. Why did my name sound so damn good coming from her mouth?

I felt her fingers softly graze my sweat-dampened skin.

“Hey, are you okay? Is it your shoulder?”

I swallowed and opened my eyes, shaking my head with a forced smile. “Nawh, I’m okay.”

Her eyes were wide, flecks of gold among the swirls of green as she examined my chest, tugging her on lower lip with her teeth. “Are you sure? I mean...I could ice it for you, or rub it down?”

Her forehead puckered at the same moment my dick hardened at the thought of her gorgeous, talented hands on me—hands that created masterpieces of abstract art. God, the last thing I needed was having those hands on my skin.

Apparently the run hadn’t worked as well as I’d thought.

I needed to fuck her out of my head before I screwed up the one good thing I had going.

“You know, I think I will head out for a little bit. You okay with Lettie?” I asked, looking anywhere but the braless breasts that rose and fell in my face with her breaths.

“Yeah, of course. No rush. Try to relax, okay?”

I nodded, then nearly cursed as a thought came to me. “Shit, sometimes I bring women home…”

She laughed slightly. “I’m well aware of your nocturnal activities. This is your home, Gage. Feel free to…”—she flung her hands out— “do whatever it is you do. Seriously, no judgment.”