Player: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (47 page)

“What do you say, darlin,” He winks; “Think we should join the mile high club?”

And just like that, the spell shatters, and I realize it’s not some dream guy I’m inches away from kissing right here in his office.

It’s Logan fucking Dempsey; the polar
opposite
of my dream guy.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

But I’m shoving the voice in my head aside and then pushing away from Logan; my wide, doe-eyed stare turning to a scowl as I realize how close I came to just making the mistake all over again.

“Looks like some things are
exactly
what they look like on the outside,
Logan
.” I hiss, yanking my hand away from him. I turn sharply on my heel and storm away before he can even open his mouth.

I
n a perfect world
, it’d just be me and Quinn sitting on this plane tonight. Ok, in a
perfect
world we’d be doing a whole lot more than
sitting
, but I digress. In any case, a perfect world this is not, so instead I’m also stuck on my jet with two guys from our finance team and Peyton.

Quinn’s turned away from me and looking out the window, and as I catch myself staring at her, I also find myself weighing out the risks of what’s going on here. Whatever the nature of our, well,
whatever
this little train wreck of two people is, her even being around me is dangerous; because of the fights, because of my past, and because of
who I am
. I’m like a fuckin magnet for violence, and it should go without saying that being around Quinn isn’t a good idea.

Of course, neither is
sleeping
with her, for that matter.

She clears her throat across the cabin from me, and I suddenly focus and realize I’ve just been staring at her and she’s busted me for it. There’s a hint of a grin on her face, as if she’s amused that she’s caught me like that, but then she rolls her eyes and looks away. Peyton is talking to me about God knows what, and I frown as I realize her hand is on my arm just about the same time Quinn catches the gesture and scowls at it. I excuse myself as politely as I can, leaving Quinn, Peyton, and the finance guys to continue going over some of the finer points of the contract.

As amusing as it is seeing Quinn Archer get all jealous and angsty - and it
really
is - I need to clear my head, and it's tough going while cooped on a plane with her.

* * *

I
step
out of the bathroom in the back of the jet
directly
into Quinn. I freeze at the contact, feeling her body pressed against mine in the tight confines of the galley space by the back of the plane, and I can see her eyes go wide and her face go flushed as her breath catches in her throat.

She clears her throat; “Let me get by.”

“Relax, I’m trying.” But I’m not; at least, not that hard. I’m enjoying being this close to her too much, and I’m definitely enjoying the way I can see her pupils get wider and the way that adorable pink flushes across her cheeks.

Her mouth is half open, and she closes it with a snap as her eyes narrow at me; “Your little
games
aren’t cute, Logan.”

“What games?” I say as innocently as possible, trying and failing to hold back the grin on my face.

“Trying to
rile me up
;
those
games.” She hisses, her eyes darting toward the front of the plane where the others are sitting with their backs to us, as if she’s worried how this might look with us being pressed together in the tight confines of the hallway.

“Listen, cute stuff, if I wanted to rile you up, you’d know it.”

She
almost
smiles as she rolls her eyes; “Oh
please.
”

“Is that a request?” I shrug; “OK.”

She gasps as I push her hard against the door to the galley kitchen behind her, letting my body press flat against her curves. I’m calling her bluff; daring her to back down here, and I think she knows it even if she won’t play the game back. Her eyes flare with a fire in them and her chest hitches with her breath. Just that simple sound of her quiet gasp suddenly has me rock-hard in my pants, and that I
know
she knows about.

She shakes her head slowly; “I’m not falling for this kind of bullshit, Logan. Your little games aren’t working.”

I smirk as I let my eyes drop to the front of her shirt, seeing the telling outlines of her hard nipples poking beneath the fabric there; “Oh aren't they?”

She blushes bright red; “I’m not falling for that again.” She says quietly.

“Falling for what?” I growl lowly, leaning into her.

“That charm.”

“Oh so you
do
think I’m charming.”

I’m leaning even closer when she lets her breath out and rolls her eyes again, like the moment just faltered; “I think you’re delusional, and I told you, that isn't happening again.”

I move back from her; “Who said I want it to? You’re the one getting all hot and bothered around me.”

Her eyes blaze and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to scream at me before she snaps those pouty lips shut and turns her head to look away. And I want to kiss her so fucking badly in that moment; kiss her and so much more. I want to take her right here in the back of my plane, the pilot, and the finance guys, and Peyton up front be damned.

But I don’t, obviously. And then the moment passes as soon as we hear one of the pilots come over the intercom about our decent into Dulles.

“Logan, let me go.” I look back at Quinn, looking at me with those big eyes. and all I can think about is the way she looked that night, when she took me in and took care of me. It’s lust I feel, immediately at least, but fuck it’s something else too. It’s the way she took in a stranger who looked like I did and made me whole.

I shake my head to clear it. Fuck, what am I doing? This is
William's daughter
for fuck’s sake; this is
the
definition of off-limits.

And then the moment is gone entirely as she pushes me back and slips away from me back towards the others.

“
I
’m
sorry again I couldn’t stay longer after the wedding.”

Major Lawson pulls out a chair for me at his desk in this extremely old-world and yet exceedingly grandfatherly way, and I can’t help but smile as I take a seat. The Major is every bit the stiff-upper-lip soldier-type, but I can also see why my Father and him were such good friends.

“Oh, that’s fine. You didn’t miss much, really.”

Well, I suppose you missed out on the spectacular and nuclear level event of me realizing the man I slept with and can’t get out of my head is in fact the most off-limits man in my entire world, not to mention my new brother-in-law.

I
don’t
say that, and instead just clear my throat; “I know Reagan was really glad to have you there, and it meant a lot to Chelsea and me to have you be the one to give her away.”

He nods quietly and solemnly as he takes his own seat across the desk from me; “Well, I was no substitute for your Father, you know, but it was an honor to stand there in his place for his little girl on her day.”

“It would be the highest honor in a lifetime of medals,”
he’d said when Reagan had asked him to be the one to walk her down the aisle and give her away in lieu of our Dad, and the memory of that makes me grin.

“He’d be extraordinary impressed by the woman you’ve become; you know that don’t you?”

I smile, thinking of my Dad’s look of surprise when his black-haired, gothy little poetry fanatic of an eldest daughter informed him that she wanted to go to medical school; as if I hadn’t shocked him enough with black eyeliner and heavy metal up to that very point. It’s a look I wish I could’ve sealed up in a little bottle and carried around me with forever.

“Well, I guess maybe part of it is making up for what the company
used
to do.”

The Major nods; “Sins of the past, and all that. William always hated that part of the business, you know.” He says, sitting forward in his chair and studying my face; “He’d certainly look at the new direction those boys of his are taking Archer Holdings in as the right move, I know that.”

“Do you sell guns, Dad?”

“Who told you that?”

“I’m seventeen, I’m not stupid,” I frown, crossing my arms; “Is it true?”

“Not everything is black and white, Quinn. Sometimes life is a bit more complicated than a yes or no.”

I’d never
liked
it, back then when we were younger and my Father’s constant absence from our lives to visit places like Kosovo, or Libya, or whatever other place in the world was busy killing each other. We all sort of
knew
that our Dad’s company sold arms, and while I was hardly
for
that, I also never really held onto that hate like Reagan had. But now, through Hudson and hearing more about the man we all wished we’d known better, there’s a cathartic sort of healing element to knowing that he’d actually been visiting those places to do the
opposite
of what we’d all just assumed he was doing.

“Your Father would be
very
pleased to hear about it” He smiles at me and shakes his head again; “But
my
, look at you, Quinn Archer. A doctor,
and
working for his company; he’d
love
it.” He leans forward and winks at me; “And again, I’m not William, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least
check in
with his daughters on his behalf.”

I grin and roll my eyes as I feel my cheeks burn a little; “Before you even ask it, no; no boyfriends.”

Major Lawson chuckles and shakes his head as he sits back in his chair; “I
had
to ask.”

I smile at him, “Let me guess; Dad left last will directions for you to have any ill-intended suitor sent to Guantanamo or something?”

He laughs deeply, the kind of laugh that sucks you right into it too, and he leans back again to wipe his eyes; “Something like that, yes.”

“Yeah, well, save your favor with the CIA; no boyfriends.”

“With
your
credentials and your mother’s looks?” The Major shakes his head; “What the hell is wrong with those idiots up there in New York?”

I snort; “I don’t even have
time
for dating! I mean first with the hospital work, and now the stuff with the outreach program, and then there’s
Logan-
”

The Major’s eyebrows twitch
just enough
for me to trip over my words, and I freeze.

“What about Logan?”

“Hmm?” I swallow, trying to make my face look as blank as possible; “Oh, nothing.”

Smooth, Quinn, so smooth.

“I just mean with him running the new healthcare program at Archer and everything; he keeps me pretty busy over there!”

The Major’s brow raises with just the
slightest
hint of a smile on his face as he nods; “Logan’s a good man, you know.”

I laugh, maybe a bit too harshly and quickly than I mean to; “He’s, uh, he’s
something
alright.”

“He can be prickly”

I do hold back a snort this time, but Major Lawson chuckles; “You know, your father had a way of seeing things in people that others didn’t, including themselves.”

“Not everything is what it looks like on the outside, you know.”

So what is it that I see in Logan?
What can I possibly -

No.
I shake the thought from my head quickly. God, what am I
thinking
? I don’t see
anything
in Logan except a mistake I need to just put behind me and move on from. Except if that’s the case, why am I still dwelling on it? If Logan is such a cataclysmic and obvious bad decision, why am I having such a hard time getting him out of my damn head and just forgetting about the whole sordid thing?

I force myself to push the whole thing with Logan out of my head for the time being, and spend the next thirty minutes or so chatting with Major Lawson. But it’s right back there in my head the second I leave his office, it’s still floating around as I grab a coffee at a cafe down the street, and it’s still gnawing at me as I make my way over to the National Mall.

Ok, enough of this
, I finally think, setting my jaw and staring across the reflecting pool. One mistake
one
night is not going to mess with my head this much, and I decide right then and there that it’s time to just cut this whole thing loose and just
move on
.

Simple.

* * *

“
B
een enjoying the view
?”

I’m sitting on the steps near the top of the Lincoln Memorial when I turn to see Logan walking down towards me; “I
was
,” I say petulantly at him.

He smirks and nods his chin towards my chest; “Yeah, me too.”

I frown at his glance and look down to realize the top button of my shirt is open a bit more than it should be. I frown and try to shove the burning blush from my cheeks as I hastily button back up; “Do you
always
have to be the man-child?” I shake my head at him.

Logan shrugs, grinning at me; “Keep your shirt on and maybe I won’t stare so much.”

I roll my eyes; “Like it’s
my
fault my button came undone.”

“Like it’s
my
fault you’ve got great looking tits!”

The childish tete-a-tete comes to a screeching halt as we both glare at each other before turning away in silence.

Oh yeah, moving on is going swimmingly.

“So when’s our flight?” I say, hoping to change the subject; “I was wondering if I have time to get dinner here in D.C. before we head back.”

Logan shrugs; “I mean, it’s
my
plane.”

“Oh, is it?” I say with overly-dramatic mock surprise.

He grins; “I meant we can go whenever you want to.” He shrugs; “You know, we
could
also just stay the night; grab some dinner, a
hotel room-
”

“In your
dreams
, Logan.” I say, shaking my head, but also trying not to grin at just how damn shameless he is.

He laughs; “Hey, don’t flatter yourself, darlin; you get your own room.” He strokes his chin like he’s really pondering something; “Hmm, actually I wonder what Peyton is up to tonight.”

Just the
thought
of him doing something like that with
her
- heck, with
anyone
- has me seeing red, even though I
know
he’s just trying to get a rise out of me. I open and close my mouth a few times, before I just give up and shake my head at him. It’s
infuriating
how likable he is, even when he’s trying to get under my skin like this.

And deep down, I know that’s the problem here. On the surface, I’m basically spitting in his face every chance I get as if our little
run-in
from that night is entirely his fault. But I knew exactly what I was doing when I leaned into him that night, and I knew
damn well
where kissing a man that made me feel like that in the dead of night
in his bed
would lead. The wall I keep throwing up is more to save my own face than it is to keep him out, which is a moot point since all he has to do is grin at me before the whole thing comes crashing down anyways.

Logan laughs, and drapes his arm around my shoulders, and for the first time, I actually just let myself enjoy his company without worrying about trying to keep this tenuous wall up between us.

“You
really
are infuriating, you know that Logan?”

“Darlin, you have
no
idea.” He starts to lead us down the stairs; “Come on, let’s get some dinner somewhere and then
my plane
will
chauffeur
us home.”

I’m laughing, and actually enjoying a moment with Logan Dempsey, and then his phone rings. He frowns as he pulls it out of his pocket, and then his face goes dark and he swears under his breath as he looks at it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He shoves the phone back into his pocket and his arm drops quickly from my shoulder. Well, whatever it is has his mood changing like the flip of a coin.

“
What
?”

He turns and looks at me quickly; “It’s nothing, Quinn. Look, change of plans; we need to head back to New York, now actually.”

“Um, OK?”

His limo is already waiting by the curb as we leave the Mall, and he opens the door and quickly ushers me in.

“OK, what’s with the sudden flip-flop here?” I finally demand as we speed off back towards the airport.

“It’s nothing, Quinn; just leave it.” He mutters, staring out the window with a scowl as he taps his fingers against the arm-rest in staccato beat.

“Well it
really does
seem like
something
, Logan.” I mutter out loud; “Look, stop with the stupid secret spy shit and just tell me why-”

“Just drop it,
OK
?!” He whirls and growls sharply at me, making me jolt upright. His mouth opens as if to say something, before he just shakes his head and turns to look out the window.

Well, hell; just when I’m ready to start figuring you out, Logan Dempsey
, I grumble to myself as D.C. flies past the windows of the car.

* * *

H
e’s silent later
, back on the plane as he just stares out the window at the evening clouds beneath us as we cruise back to New York. And there’s a bizarre sort of irony to the fact that I busted
him
staring at
me
on the trip here, and yet here I am doing the same thing back.

There’s a metaphor for this whole messed up relationship between us in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to even think about it. And really, “relationship” is
definitely
the wrong word for whatever is going on between Logan and me. We’re just two people - two
separate people
- who happened to cross paths in an unusual way. Maybe those paths got mixed up more than they should have, and maybe it’s a bit more complicated than either of us anticipated. But that doesn’t mean we can’t just get on our own paths again and just
move on
, right?

Logan closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the window next to him, and I catch myself wondering for the tenth time what’s gotten him this quiet and brooding and sullen, as opposed to the loud and obnoxious exuberance that usually defines him. But as I watch him, watch his brow crease as he frowns against the glass and against whatever demons are clawing through his head in that moment. I find myself wondering so much more about him. His sleeves are rolled up, showing the ink of his tattoos, and while some like the boxing gloves and the “semper fi” are obvious, there are other swirling images and effigies that have me curious about their meaning. What stories follow in Logan’s shadows that I don’t even have a clue about? What haunts him when he’s alone? And what else goes through his head?