Body Checking (Men of Havoc #3)

9

MY PHONE dings and it’s yet another morning of waking up to that sound. While I was quite pissed two days ago, I don’t feel the same level of irritation today. It could be because I know it’s Cade texting me like yesterday before he left to the arena.

We spent hours texting each other the other night and surprisingly, kept it pretty tame after showing off our good bits to one another right off the bat. But it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. We continued our game of two truths and one lie where I laughed more that night than I have in longer than I can remember.

It felt good to not feel the pressure of a face to face, awkward first date. No one is ever really genuine on those first meetings. You’re so worried about messing up or saying something stupid that you don’t relax and enjoy the moment. The real you doesn’t make an appearance weeks later when you’re so tired of pretending .

But the other night we were at ease, sharing stories, laughing and being ourselves. No first date act. No putting on a show to get the other to like you. It was the best time I’ve had with someone other than Sasha in years.

I pick up my phone and look at the text.

Hammer: Good morning beautiful. Five more days until I can take you on a proper date.

A smile that only he can elicit appears.

Me: Good morning. Does that mean that the texts will stop once you’re back?

Hammer: Not a chance. Expect texts and calls and in-person visits when I’m home.

I send a blushing emoji back to him then set my phone down and decide to get my day started. It’s work day and I have to pick up some supplies before my workers get to the Samuels house.

I’m showered and dressed lickety split with minimal prep since I’ll be running errands, and decide to stop at my favorite coffee shop and splurge on calories. I’ve been counting calories and watching what I eat, hoping to lose a little bit of weight, but I’m not succeeding as much as I’d like.

Sasha tells me to quit worrying about that nonsense. She says I’m a hot, curvy woman and I should own it. Most days I do, but there are many times it’s just hard. Like right now when I walk into the coffee shop and see a rail thin woman with commercial worthy blonde hair, and her tight leggings and cropped sweatshirt, exposing her taut and toned abdomen.

I adjust my oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt that matches my baggy jeans and sneakers, and fix the floppy bun that sits on my head.

I push through people milling about and step up in line. I chew my lip and keep my head down, hoping I don’t see anyone I know since this is the place I love to meet clients at when we have updates on their projects.

When it’s my turn, I give the barista my not-so-complicated drink order and set my purse on the counter to retrieve my wallet. When I do, the darn thing tips over and spills on the floor. My face reddens from embarrassment and I crouch down to begin scooping the contents back in.

A man comes over to help me and when I hear his voice, I want to melt into the floor and slide right down the drain that sits behind the counter .

“Let me help you with that, miss.”

In slow motion, I raise my head and come face-to-face with the last person on Earth I’d want to see. Especially today.

“Oh. Maren,” he says, freezing in place with his hand on my lipstick tube.

“Hey Walker. Thanks for the help.” I snatch the lipstick from his hand and shove it into my purse with the rest of the items.

I stand on wobbly legs, not liking all the attention on me right now, and the barista hands me my change. I quickly shove it into the tip jar and move around Walker to go hide in a corner.

“How’ve you been?” he asks, prolonging my humiliation.

“Fine. Fine. It’s good,” I ramble.

He nods with a sullen smile. Just then, the woman I first noticed when I entered comes walking over.

“Babe. Is everything okay?” She sidles up to Walker and slips her hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Oh. Um yeah. Just helping an old friend.” My eyes furrow at his comment and my blood pressure begins to soar.

“Hi. I’m Carys. Nice to meet you,” she tells me, sticking out her hand to shake .

With a tight smile, I reciprocate. “Hi. Maren. An old friend of Walker’s. So. How long have you two been together? The last time I saw you, I don’t think you were dating anyone.”

She gives me a sparkling smile and says with glee, “Only about two months, but I feel like we’ve been with each other for years.”

He lets out a nervous chuckle and I clench my jaw.

“Huh. Interesting.” Walker gives me a pleading look, begging me not to spill the beans.

Normally I would just smile, wish them a good day, and let it go. But something in me has the words hanging by a tattered thread on the tip of my tongue.

I summon the courage and confidence of Sasha and say, “Is she why you couldn’t make our date last week?”

Blonde hair goes swirling when she turns to look at him, and his face scrunches in pain of being caught.

“Maren,” a voice calls. “Your coffee is ready.”

“Ah. Just in time.” I strut over to the counter and grab my cup. Before I leave, I turn around and throw out one last nail in the coffin. “I may have been drunk when I texted you but I was so right. You do have a pencil di..uck. Good luck to you, Carys. Your vagina will need it.”

I throw the door open and hear a few snickers from the crowd, and I walk away with my head held high and a weight off of my shoulders that I haven’t felt in quite a long time.

Five more days have passed and the texts and conversations with Cade have grown more intimate as we share everything about ourselves with one another. The grumpy man I see coaching from the sidelines is nowhere to be seen because he is funny and sweet and sincere. I figure it’s a persona he puts on to scare his players and opponents because I just can’t believe that these two sides truly exist in this man.

I slip out of my black slacks and the camel colored slouchy sweater I had on for today’s client checks and slide into a pair of boxers and crewneck sweatshirt that has seen better days, but is absolutely the most comfortable piece of clothing I own. I shove my feet into my favorite panda slippers, complete with ears and a cute tail, and head back downstairs to search my fridge for something to eat.

I am too tired to cook and felt too lazy to stop and order takeout. I’m sure there’s cheese and crackers and apples in here somewhere. Maybe I’ll even throw in some prosciutto for a little bit of protein .

My arms are full of my “girl dinner” ingredients when I hear a knock at the door. It baffles me because I’m not expecting anyone, including Sasha. Setting all of my food down, I tread cautiously to the door.

Peeking through the peephole, I pull back with a gasp and slap my hand over my mouth. On the other side of the door stands Cade, a bouquet of big and small roses all in various shades of pink and a smile on his face.

I look through the peephole once more and see him staring straight at it, probably seeing my eyeball in the process.

“Maren?” he calls out. “I saw that gorgeous eye of yours. Are you going to let me in?”

Dammit . I knew he saw me.

I look down at my clothing and really wish I would’ve waited just ten more minutes to change.

“Um. Well. I’m not really dressed appropriately for company,” I tell him.

“I don’t care what you’re dressed in. I want to see you. Please?” My head thuds against the door when I throw it back and figure it’s better to get this over with sooner rather than later.

If he’s going to hightail it out of here, I’d rather he do it now than months from now when I’m head deep under water for him .

With shaky fingers, I unlatch the two deadbolts and ever so slowly, turn the door knob and pull the door open an inch at a time. I peek one eye out then the other until it’s barely wide enough for me to have one leg, one arm and one panda covered foot visible.

“He-y. Cade. What’re you doing here? Ho-how do you know where I live?”

“Here to see you, sweetheart. And don’t you remember the tickets and the jersey? I kind of stalked you but in a very innocent, non creepy type of way. What’s the matter?” He asks, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Huh,” I chuckle. “I, uh, didn’t know we were at the dropping by unannounced phase in our…our,” I falter on my words, not sure if I can call whatever we have a relationship.

“Relationship?” he asks, and I nod. “Well, in my opinion, the minute you showed me those luscious tits of yours, that is when our relationship started. And with that comes unannounced drop in’s so I can see your gorgeous face in person.”

I continue to nod my head, looking like a human sized bobble head doll. I have no idea what to say to all of it. In one respect, I’m freaking out that Cade “Hammer” Hamlin, ex-NHL standout and current NHL coach, says that we’re in a relationship. It’s a scenario I have only dreamed of. But on the other hand, I don’t remember ever agreeing to a relationship. It feels a little forced and I’m unsure of how to proceed.

“Do you think I could come in?” he asks again.

“Um, well, like I said before, I’m kind of not dressed to entertain company.”

His eyes roam up and down my body before looking me dead in the eye. “Maren, you could be wearing a clown costume, painted face and all, and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

My heart sprouts little wings and begins floating out of my chest. Without further avoidance, I pull the door open wide and allow him to come in. He passes me and I shut the door. When I spin around, he’s standing just inches away. He places a soft kiss on my cheek and hands off the flowers.

“These are gorgeous. Thank you.”

“I may know what kind of dessert you prefer, but I have yet to learn what your favorite flower is.” I take the flowers and wave for him to follow me into the kitchen.

“Gerbera daisies,” I answer.

“Noted.” He stands next to me and lets his eyes wander around my open space. From the dark brown and white kitchen, my cozy living room is visible .

My overstuffed sofa is calling my name but now that I have company, I need to be the perfect hostess. Minus the cute outfit.

“Can I offer you a drink,” I ask him, grabbing a vase from under the sink and filling it with water.

“I’d love water if you have it.”

“Of course. Sparkling?” I pivot on my heels and step to the other end of the counter where a drink fridge sits under the counter.

“Sure,” he replies.

I bend over, reaching in to grab a cold bottle, then stand up. When I turn back to Cade I see his eyes fixed on the exact spot that would have been where my ass was high up in the air as I bent over. I grow incredibly embarrassed and quickly shuffle over to the cabinet to grab him a glass. I set both down on the counter and slide it over to him.

“How was your flight back?” I try to make small talk, switching the subject from my wide ass to anything else.

“Good.” He cracks the lid on the water and begins chugging it down.

I grow hot watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallows mouthfuls of water. He lets out a big sigh when he’s done and sets the empty bottle down on the counter. We grow silent, only the whir of the fridge sounding between us. I chew on my lip and he steps closer, placing his thumb on it and freeing it from my teeth.

“I know we barely know one another,” he says and I nod. “But I feel something for you in the short time we have been talking, that is stronger than I’ve felt for anyone else.” Another nod. “And I’m sorry if this seems forward, but I am barely holding myself back from consuming you.” Nod nod nod. “I was a goner the moment I saw that video of you, and vowed to go to the ends of the Earth to find you and make you mine.” I freeze. “I’m about to do something and if you don’t say the words no , I’m not stopping until I’ve ruined you for every other man out there.”

My breathing stops and my mind goes blank. Not a thought passes, and you could hear the echo of a penny if one was dropped in. Me say no to my dream man? Not a chance.

“I take your silence as a yes?” I inhale and then nod, slow and undeniable of what I want. “Thank fuck,” he groans and lunges for me, yanking my arm and pulling me into his hold.

His hand palms the back of my head and I melt when his tongue dances with mine. I feel like I’m in a dream. How can this be real? If it weren’t for his lips on mine and his hardening dick poking at my belly, I would say I’m dreaming. But the sensation running through my body tells me it is one hundred percent, without a doubt, happening.

“I need you like I’ve never needed anyone or anything in my life,” he mumbles against my mouth. “I want to rip these clothes off of you, but I’m going to wait before I do that. For now, I just want to kiss the breath out of you.”

“Perfect. Good. Yes. I like that idea.”

My lips lock back onto his and I forget all about my little dinner, and snack on Cade for the next hour.