Enticing (Red Lips & White Lies Book 3)

There’s something about Guns N’ Roses’ “Welcome To The Jungle” that always gets the Revolution Arena up on their feet when the team takes the ice for pregame warm-ups, and tonight is no different. The energy is the living, breathing, heartbeat of our team. Nixon and I stretch side by side as his woman, our sisters, and their friends all stand behind the glass, hooting and hollering. They swear there’s a whole side of TikTok dedicated to hockey players stretching, but most of us avoid that shit like the fucking plague.

“That’s right. Stretch it, babe,” Kenzie yells, and I chuckle, knowing my straight-laced older brother is probably blushing behind his new beard.

When Nix and Kenzie moved in together a few weeks ago, I hadn’t realized how quiet the condo would be. Not gonna lie. I miss having him and his dog hanging around. I’m not the biggest fan of quiet. Give me the roar of the crowd or the shit-talking of the guy across from me on the ice, and I’m happy. Give me a puck to chase down, and I’m in my element. I’m basically a simple man. It doesn’t take much.

Put me in a house full of chaos, and I’m home. But that’s what happens when you grow up as one of five siblings all born within five years of each other because you also have two parents who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Still can’t.

Loud and crazy are my default settings.

My thoughts go back to Addie’s house last night.

To the way Izzy argued with her mother more like a tiny teenager instead of a short stack in kindergarten.

To the way Addie kept her guard up all night, only letting it down for her girls.

Damn . . . there’s just something about her that called to me from the second I saw her. Even before I was able to suss out there was no Mr. Addie in sight. I probably should have been more concerned about that than I was, but somehow, I just knew . . .

She made me work hard as hell for every tiny detail, unlike her daughter, who happily filled me in on anything and everything she could before her mother kicked me out so she could give the kids baths.

But something was there . . . Not just attraction, but something else.

Something bigger. Stronger. Insistent.

Something I don’t just want to explore, I need to.

Have to.

She and her kids and the chaos around them settled me in a way I haven’t been in a long time.

My head snaps up as Nix smacks me with his stick. “Where the fuck are you?”

“What the hell?” I glare and shift my hips.

He stretches his arms behind his back and cracks his neck, acting way more annoyed than he actually is. It’s what we do. The roles we play. Nix is the oldest, serious brother. I’m the middle son. Easygoing and under the radar. And Hendrix . . . well, Henny’s the baby of the family, and he gets away with everything.

“Dude,” Nix snaps. “I’ve been talking to you for five minutes, and it’s like you’re looking right through me.”

“It’s not my fault you’re boring as shit.” I pop up and hit his stick with mine, not willing to share where my mind was and abso-fucking-lutely not willing to think about why I want to keep that to myself. Instead, I taunt him. It’s more fun to fuck with him anyway. “Wanna race?”

“Save your energy for the game, man. You’re gonna need it.” Always the older brother. So fucking serious.

I smile like the cat who ate that annoying little canary. “That what your fiancée tells you too? I hear there’s a pill for that.”

Nixon’s grip tightens on his stick as the team starts filing off the ice. “You better hope I don’t catch you, little brother.”

I smile, excitement coursing through my veins. “I’d like to see you try.”

Time for some fun.

Hendrix and I are on our way back to Kroydon Hills from the airport way too fucking early the next morning when my speaker announces Dad calling in a sexy Australian accent.

“Seriously,” Hendrix groans.

“Hey, old man,” I answer and smack the back of his head as we pull onto the highway.

“Dude. What’s up your ass?” Henny growls before Dad has a chance to answer.

“Hendrix . . . what are you doing in the car with Leo?” Dad asks.

“Wanted to surprise Mom today for Thanksgiving,” the little kiss ass tells Dad.

“Good. I need you boys to do me a few favors. Dinner is at Grandpa’s at four this afternoon. Mom ordered desserts from Sweet Temptations. Can you pick them up for me?”

I look at the clock, already annoyed to be up this early the day after a game. Guess we can grab some coffee while we’re there. “You said favors. Is there something else?”

Hendrix reclines his seat, and I kinda want to smother the fucker.

“Yeah. Can you go make sure Callen is awake and not being a miserable little shit? Grandpa doesn’t need to deal with anyone else’s shit right now.”

And there it is. The thing none of us have felt like dealing with. Callen has been a real fucker lately, and none of us know why. And we haven’t poked the bear. Guess I’m about to start poking.

“Sure, Dad. Let us know if you need anything else. See you this afternoon.” I look over to find my little brother sound asleep already and have to remind myself that while slamming on the brakes would definitely wake him up, it would probably cause an accident too. Fuck. Adulting sucks.

I get out of my SUV, once we’re back in town, and glare at Hendrix, who doesn’t move. “Are you coming in with me?”

Hendrix cracks his eyes open and smirks. “Uhh . . . no. I have faith in you, brother. You got this.”

“Yeah . . . thanks for nothing.” I slam the door and trudge up to Callen’s house. Technically, he’s our uncle, but he’s the same age as our sisters, so he’s always been more brother or cousin than uncle. At least, that means I know where the dumbass keeps his spare key.

It only takes me a minute to find him once I’m in.

The fucker is passed out in the living room with ESPN on in the background.

“Get up, asshole,” I groan, already annoyed to be on babysitting duty.

He drags a pillow over his head and flips me off from the couch. “Go away.”

“No can do,” I tell him, taunting. “It’s Thanksgiving, remember? And let’s not forget whose fault it is either. You and Dad are the ones otherwise occupied tomorrow. You’re the reason we’re having dinner today instead of sleeping in. Some of us had games last night.” I kick his leg. “Dick.”

Okay, so maybe I’m the one being a dick, but I’m sore from last night’s game, and I’m tired from tossing and turning instead of sleeping because I can’t seem to get a beautiful blonde out of my head.

“Fuck off, Leo. I’m up.” He sits up and rubs his eyes. “My head hurts like a bitch.”

I look around the room, less than impressed.

I know my grandfather has been going through chemo hell lately, and we all know it’s screwing with Callen, but this seriously isn’t like him.

“Just guessing, but it might have something to do with the empty bottle of Don Julio. Maybe if you’d get the fuck up and get showered, I wouldn’t have to be a babysitter. Seriously, man. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you look like dog shit.” I sniff him, and oh yeah . . . he smells like it too. “Dude, you smell worse than you look. Don’t make me shove your ass in a cold shower.”

He stands and stares at me, like he’s contemplating hitting me. “I’d like to see you try, man.”

Yup. Knew that was coming.

“Leo,” my Uncle Cooper growls from the front door.

When did he get here?

I turn to ask him that when he stops me. “Leo, head over to Grandpa’s. I’ll get Callen moving.”

I raise a brow and Uncle Cooper nods. I feel like I just passed go and got to collect two hundred dollars. One thing off my list. “Whatever you say, Uncle Coop. He’s salty as shit today. Maybe you can figure out what the hell is going on with him. The rest of us gave up.” I take one last look at him and shake my head. “Take a fucking shower.”

Addie

The delicious smell of pumpkin cream and sugar makes my mouth water as Bellamy stirs her latte next to me at Sweet Temptations. We both sit not so patiently across from Caitlin, waiting for her to spill the beans about her date that was a non-date but really was a date if you ask either of us.

“So . . . how was it?” Bellamy asks as she elbows me, pulling my attention from my MacBook, which thankfully, I’ve had my head buried in since I put the girls to bed last night.

Thank God for inspiration hitting.

The fact that it came after Leo Sinclair left my house is slightly infuriating, but I can ignore that if it means I get chapters written.

That my hero smells like him and I may or may not have changed his eye color to a beautiful blue, the same color of the palest summer sky, is just a coincidence . . . and that’s a hill I’ll die on.

Inspiration is inspiration, and I’ll take it however I can get it. I go back to my couple’s meet-cute and wonder just how long my heroine will be able to resist my newest hottie, cursing myself for signing this book deal.

Deadlines are soul crushers.

I’m vaguely aware of Cait and Bellamy arguing about her non-date when I hear, “I just had to dress him.”

“Wait.” I pop my head up from my minty-green MacBook, intrigued. “He was undressed, and it wasn’t a date?”

My mind immediately goes to all the ways a hero can end up naked in a story without it being a date and wonder if I can use any of them in this story.

Naked meet-cute—Hmmm?

I add it to my ideas doc and ignore Bellamy as she pats the top of my head like I’m a little simple and shrug her off. “Maybe if you’d come out of the cave every once in a while, you too could undress a date instead of just writing about it.”

“Listen.” I break off a piece of muffin and glare. “Some of us work in a hospital. Others have a writing cave. You have surgeries, and I have a book due in three weeks that’s not finished. You know that makes me nuts.” I spin my hair up in a bun and shove a pen through it, locking it in place, a nervous habit I picked up years ago that I can’t seem to shake. “And I’d be happy to date if a single guy I meet is interesting enough to bother dating.”

Okay, so maybe that’s a lie, albeit a tiny little white lie.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever be willing to trust a man enough with my girls and myself to date again. But these beautiful, strong women who decided the crazy, pregnant, single mom who moved to town last year needed to be part of their inner circle don’t need to know just how weak I truly am. Nobody does. I’ll keep that to myself.

“I mean, standards do complicate things,” Bellamy agrees, and I roll my eyes.

That they do. Not quite as much as fear or a lack of trust. But they’re on the list too.

“Cait . . .” Bellamy whispers as she elbows me again.

“Oh shit.” I look over the top of my screen and see what she sees. Or better yet, who. Damn. That’s Cait’s ex. “Do not turn around.”

He and a handsome older guy who looks sort of familiar walk over to the counter.

Cait keeps her back to them but can’t hide the heartbreak in her eyes.

Guess we all have our own demons to deal with.

“You okay, Caitlin? You’re looking a little pale.” Bellamy looks concerned as Cait closes her eyes.

“I’m fine. My stomach has just been off today. The smell of your latte made it worse,” she admits. “I think I’m gonna go, guys. I’m not feeling so good.”

I study her warily. Her stomach has been off a lot lately, and it’s got alarm bells going off in my head. But Bellamy is a nurse, and her mind hasn’t gone there, so I keep my mouth shut. Even if coffee was the first thing that made my stomach flip each time I was pregnant.

“Cait. You really need to consider going to the doctor. You may have a food allergy or maybe you’ve developed a sensitivity to something. This keeps happening,” Bellamy lectures as sweetly as she can.

Luckily . . . or maybe not, Caitlin can’t see the way Callen keeps looking at her before she grabs her purse and heads out.

I wait until Cait’s through the door before I turn to Bellamy. “Food allergies? Really?”

“What?” she asks, but it’s the look in her eyes that tells me she knows exactly where my mind is. “Listen, a test is a test, and they’ll test for all sorts of things. I know Cait, and I know what she can take right now and what might push her over the edge. Even the thought of that would put her over the edge. Maybe I’m wrong.”

I tilt my head and wait . . .

“Okay, fine. So we’re probably thinking the same thing, but she’s definitely not ready to hear it. Give her tomorrow. Let her enjoy Thanksgiving with her family, then I’ll talk to her over the weekend.”

I wish I could say my smile is triumphant, but nothing about this makes me wish I’m right.

Bellamy grabs her bag and her coffee cup. “I’m gonna head out too. I need a little retail therapy before my shift tonight. You sticking around here for a bit or do you want a ride home?”

The reminder of my car situation sits like a stone, heavy in my stomach.

When the mechanic called this morning to say my engine was irreparable, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but when two little girls rely on you for everything, that’s not an option. I really didn’t need one more thing to go wrong. He said he could probably get me a thousand dollars for parts if he sold it for me. I guess that’s better than nothing, but it doesn’t fix my current car-less situation.

“Mrs. Murkey took Lennox with her to walk around the mall this morning, so I’m going to stay here and try to get another chapter in while the inspiration is hitting hard. But thanks.”

“Text me when you’re leaving. If I’m still out, I’ll pick you up and drop you at home,” Bellamy offers, and my eyes water.

I’m so grateful the universe put Bellamy and Caitlin in my world. “Thanks, B.”

She pushes her chair in, and I stick my head back into my work in progress. That is, until I hear the bell chime as she’s leaving and her voice carrying back in. “Hey, Leo. Oh my gosh, Hendrix. You’re home.”

There he is.

The reason I wrote three chapters last night.

And he’s looking past Bellamy with his eyes locked on mine, like he’s the predator and I’m the prey . . . I shouldn’t like it. It should absolutely set my nerves on edge. So why doesn’t it?