Game Saver (15 page)

“Enough!” he commands, and even
I
know that it’s not worth poking the angry bear, especially in my place of employment. “If you’d stop trying to prove your balls are bigger than mine we could get this over with.”

I wave my hand in front of me. “Of course,
Dad.
Forgive me. Carry on.”

He narrows his eyes and shakes his head before making my head explode. “I’d like you to stop seeing Abi Cook.”

Well
that
wasn’t where I thought this was going.

I wait to see if he’s going to elaborate. When he doesn’t, I decide to give him his moment. “And why is that?”

“The actions of children reflect on their parents, especially during a political campaign. The media will be searching for any hint of a scandal.”

Upon hearing that, I scoff at him. “What I do or don’t do has no bearing on you. Who I’m dating has absolutely nothing to do with you
or
your mayoral campaign.”

“Cade, I’m simply asking that you consider your family and standing when choosing the woman you are seen publicly with.”

“Can you hear yourself right now? The man who has cheated on his wife numerous times is trying to tell me that I can’t see an honest, hardworking, genuine woman who
wants
to spend time with me.”

Not surprisingly, Dad doesn’t bother denying his past—and probably present—infidelities. “She’s a stripper,” he states, looking me straight in the eye.

I narrow my eyes at him. “This isn’t news to me, although I’m surprised you of all people are looking down your nose at someone using their body in such a way.”

“What does
that
mean?”

“You know exactly what it means. You’ve never been one to shy away from strip clubs, and don’t bother denying it.”

“The Chicago Working Men’s Club is a centuries-old business association.”

The fact that he knew what I was talking about speaks volumes. “It’s also a front for strippers and prostitutes. It’s the worst-kept secret in the city,” I reply.

“She also lived with a junkie who left her with a considerable amount of debt.”

“Hence the need for stripping,” I retort angrily. “There’s nothing that your private investigator can find out about her that will surprise me and if it did, it would simply make me want to spend
more
time with her. She’s smart, independent, ambitious, and determined to make it on her own, living her life by her rules. She’s worked hard to pull herself out of that
debt
and now has her own apartment, a successful career, and a fulfilling life. What more could I ever want in a woman?” I know I just laid it on a bit thick, but nothing I said was untrue.

“She’s not worthy of being on the arm of a Carsen.”

Hearing him say that, I lose the loose hold I had on the burning anger searing through me. I drop my coffee cup in the trash and take two steps forward, raising my hand and poking my father’s chest.

“Having the Carsen name does not make us better than anyone else,” I spit out. “If I want to keep seeing Abi, I will. It is not your job to say who I should and shouldn’t date, and it hasn’t been in a long time. Abi will be at my side for any events I’m
summoned
to attend. Outside of that, you will not have anything to do with her or our relationship.” My voice is rough now, my chest heaving as my father stares at me impassively before taking a step backward.

He regards me momentarily before shaking his head. “I should’ve known you’d act this way. Since your brother isn’t here, you were bound to use my campaign to make a statement.”

“Make a statement about
what?
” I ask harshly.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he straightens his tie and steps to the side, stopping when our shoulders meet. “Look, I understand that us men have a need to go slumming it at some time in our lives. Just consider doing yours
after
my campaign, or at least be a little more
discreet
about it,” he says through gritted teeth. “It wouldn’t take much for a reporter to go digging for gold in your pretty little girlfriend’s past . . . that’s all I’m saying. If you insist on seeing her, we’ll have to look at taking measures to minimize any fallout there might be should it come out.”

“I’m not the one running for public office, and neither is Abi.” I stand to my full height, looking him square in the eye. “And don’t even
think
of taking any measures where Abi and I are concerned.”

“I’ll do whatever I feel needs to be done, Cade. Don’t fucking cross me.”

And before I can tell him to go to hell, he disappears through the doorway.

I should’ve known that I’d be roped into kitchen duty for Cade and Thomas’s gathering.

I’m standing in Cade’s kitchen, educating Thomas on the importance of having pasta salad at any barbecue, when Cade walks into the room wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, a t-shirt tucked into the waistband. It’s like a scene out of one of those cheesy rom-coms—my one guilty pleasure, other than Cade—where the hot, hunky guy walks into the room and choir music plays as the heroine’s tongue rolls out of her mouth in unadulterated lust. Staring at his bare chest, suddenly wanting to do
more
than just look, I remember how good it was when he railed me on the kitchen counter last night.

He clears his throat, and my eyes lift lazily to meet his dancing ones, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “Everything okay, Spitfire?” he asks, that sexy grin of his doing downright illegal things to my downtown playground.

You wouldn’t think he’d done me dirty just an hour ago because right now, all it would take is a crook of his finger to get me jumping him like a spider monkey in heat.

“Are you two going to continue eye-fucking each other or are we going to get this shit done so I can sit down and enjoy another beer?” Thomas asks, breaking the moment.

Dragging my eyes off my prize—one that I’ll definitely claim again later—I look towards Thomas.

“We could just go ahead and do actual fucking. In fact . . .” I lean into him and point to the counter where he’s chopping vegetables, “ . . . we may have already christened this counter just last night.”

Thomas rears back and glares at me. “At least tell me you sterilized.”

“What are you trying to say?” I ask with an amused grin, as I hear Zach call out, “Hey,” from the entryway.

Thomas looks at the counter then to Cade. “Think you might warn me when I’m touching surfaces where you’ve fucked?”

Cade shrugs and looks at me, a knowing smile playing on his lips just as Dani and Zach enter the room.

“Hey,” Dani says, making her way towards me, putting a saran wrap-covered salad bowl on the counter before turning to give me a hug.

“Do mother-buffer duties include chef services?” she muses in my ear.

“They seem to include a lot of things,” I murmur for her ears only. I catch Thomas watching us, his expression thoughtful.
“What?”
I mouth.

Dani steps away and looks between the two of us.

Thomas grins and shakes his head. “Not yet.”

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Now what does that mean?”

“All in good time, Abi. Hi Dani,” he says, stepping forward and kissing my best friend’s cheek. “You ready to leave Zach and run away with me?”

They pull apart and Dani giggles. “Unfortunately no,” she replies.

“Get away from my girlfriend, Caldwell.”

Thomas winks and leaves us, moving over to where Cade and Zach stand, Cade’s chest now covered with a navy blue tee. Our eyes meet and he smiles brightly at me, causing my heart to skip, flip, and play dead. What’s that about?

“Need help?” Dani asks, breaking the spell.

I shake my head and face her. “Sorry?”

“I see you’re still cock-dumb”

“What?”

“You seem to be saying ‘what’ a lot,” she says with a grin.

“I didn’t hear you,” I say defensively,

She lowers her voice. “You two are so not fuck buddies.”

“We are!” I say it a little too sternly, drawing the attention of the guys.

“Keep telling yourself that, Abs. You’re helping him hold a barbecue for friends. That’s not casual.”

“He didn’t ask; I offered.”

“And here you are . . .”

“What are you talking about?”

“A fake girlfriend looks good on his arm at public events.
Real
girlfriends co-host gatherings.”

“Dani,” I warn under my breath.

“I’m just saying you look happy and relaxed. If he’s the reason, then hold on to that. You deserve happy. He’s a nice guy and worth considering.”

“He’s awesome, but what’s going on is not like that. You’re just in a loved-up haze and seeing something that isn’t there. We’re friends who happen to fuck each other’s brains on a regular basis. It’s good, it’s fun, it’s easy—”

“Who’s easy?” Cade’s smooth voice asks, his arms coming around my waist at the same time as he rests his chin on my shoulder. “Hey Dan.”

“Hi. How are you?”

“Good. Real good,” he replies, giving me a squeeze. I melt back into him, loving the feel of his arms around me. Shit.
No Abi, do not let Dani’s romantic musings permeate your brain. This isn’t real.

Dani’s eyes meet mine, and she quirks a brow as if to say “told you so,” before grinning and leaving us alone in the kitchen.

Needing to fix this and fast, I do the only thing I can think of to get out of Cade’s sexy force-field—the one that has started muddling my mind—while also shutting Dani up before she says something I’ll most likely regret.

“Thomas! Pasta salad!” I blurt out in desperation.

“Yes, Chef!” Thomas replies. Cade chuckles in my ear and places a soft, full-of-promise kiss on my neck, sending clit-tingling vibrations throughout my body. “Do you need me for anything?” he asks, and a myriad of answers bounce around my head.

My breath quickens and I struggle to hide my reaction, realizing I’ve failed when his hands on my stomach flex and start to roam. “There are many things I need you for, Doctor Hottie, but given that Thomas wasn’t impressed with our kitchen antics, I probably shouldn’t tell you how I’m dying to drop to my knees right now.”

His hands still, and he presses his semi-hard cock into my back. “Damn,” he curses, burying his face in my neck and nipping my skin.

My lips part, and a whispered moan escapes my throat.

“You two perverts are banned from my kitchen!” Thomas announces, wrenching us apart. Cade growls and I snort, turning to see Cade scowling at his best friend. “Aww, loosen up, dude. You can have her later, just not in our kitchen. Go! Shoo! Dani and Zach were heading out to the backyard, and Noah’s car has just pulled up.”

“Right,” Cade replies on a huff, sounding far from happy at the delay in getting him some.

“Jeez. Never thought I’d see you so pent up when you’re getting it on the regular. Abi, are you not giving it up enough?” Thomas asks.

“More like he’s not putting out enough for me,” I reply, and both men’s eyes come to me. “I guess that happens with old age.” I raise both of my brows in an open challenge to Cade.

“Let’s go to my room right now and prove that this old dog still has tricks up his sleeve,” Cade says with a smirk, just as Thomas mutters, “lucky bastard,” under his breath.