Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I drop the bags and wand into Ella’s open suitcase before snatching my panties from his grasp. My cheeks burn as I tuck away the rest of my lingerie.
“Actually,” he says, “I wasn’t being reprimanded. Only reminded.”
“Of what?”
“To be on my very best behavior. I promised my dad I would be as good as gold.”
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “So you lied to your father?”
He chuckles, taking the clothes hanging in the closet off the hangers. “No.” He draws the word out as if he’s thinking it through. “I endeavor to be on … probably not my best behavior, but I don’t plan to ruin my contract terms or his business deal.”
I hum.
Renn’s suspension from international rugby was worldwide news. Even if I didn’t follow the sport, I would’ve known. Renn transcends rugby. So when he returned to the States, the big question was would he sign with a team here? It was touch and go for a while, and he sat out last season. But a few months ago, he signed with the Tennessee Royals to play with Brock.
“What kind of deal? Anything interesting? Or is it boring like Tate?”
He lays the clothes on the bed next to the suitcase. Then he sits beside it. “Dad is in the process of purchasing the Tennessee Arrows.”
“The baseball team?”
He nods. “All owners have to vote and approve any team purchases or transfers. It’s a fail-safe to preserve the league's integrity. Apparently, they’re concerned about our family’s reputation—mine specifically—which is all kinds of bullshit considering we’ve owned a pro hockey team for twenty years and a dozen corporations without a problem.”
Wow. What kind of first world problem is that?
“It’s really just a campaign by another shareholder to keep us out because Dad pulled strings they didn’t want pulled on a business deal in the nineties,” he says. “So they use my … spirited behavior as ammo. And the fact that the Royals made me sign a good boy clause in my contract didn’t help.”
“That seems kind of unfair.”
Renn shrugs. “It’s how it goes. Baseball is much pricklier than other sports, it seems.”
He hands me a dress. I avoid his fingers and take it.
“So why baseball and not rugby?” I ask. “Or soccer?”
“I don’t fucking know. It’s all Gannon’s doing, I think.”
I take another dress from the stack. “Another brother, right?”
“Yeah. The biggest prick of them all.”
“So he’s not boring like Tate?”
He narrows his eyes playfully and gets up from the bed. “Stop thinking about Tate.”
I laugh and lay the dress on top of the other.
Renn moseys around the room while I finish folding the things we’d hung up in the closet. Ella completely overpacked. The sunlight creates a muted warmth in the room, making it feel cozy and calm.
Besides his looks, this is what I love most about Renn. Sure, he can be frustrating and, at times, self-centered. And it’s almost impossible to have a genuine conversation with him if people are around. But when it’s just the two of us—when he’s not Renn Brewer, Superstar—it’s almost possible to forget what a player, figuratively and literally, he is.
“Give me those,” I say, taking a pair of my shoes from him. “Did you come here just to go through my stuff?”
“Yup.” He removes a silver heel from my bag, ignoring my sigh. “These are fucking hot.”
“Well, I do get a lot of compliments when I wear them.”
His eyes flip to mine. He tosses the shoe beside the other. “So who are you seeing these days, anyway?”
With my back to him, I grin. “No one.”
“Such a shame.”
I laugh.
“What’s the problem?” he asks. “Just haven’t found the right guy?”
I pull a phone charger out of the wall. “I have a tendency to pick the wrong ones. What about you? What starlet’s heart are you in the midst of breaking?”
“I’m keeping my options open. Much to my mother’s dismay.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s also a gentle, affectionate smile for his mom. Lucky woman. “Rory Brewer believes that her six children should all be married and producing grandchildren. And as far as I care, she can shove that up her ass.”
“Renn!”
He whisks his phone off the bed and glances at the screen. “I had to make sure Dad wasn’t still on the line.” Satisfied, he shoves it in his pocket. “I did that once—thought I’d hung up but hadn’t and said some shit I shouldn’t have. That didn’t end well.”
I point at him. “That’s why you shouldn’t say anything about someone you wouldn’t say to their face.”
“Oh, I’ve said as much to Mom’s face … every time I talk to her. She thinks I’m playing with fire with my scandalous, bed-hopping ways. According to her, I should settle down, find a nice woman, and start a family before I retire.”
I zip my suitcase while Renn works on Ella’s.