Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (12 page)

“
W
hat’s the question
?” Jo asked, already getting impatient.

“It’s a few questions…just to be sure you’ve thought it all through for the move.”

“Like what?”

“Here’s an easy one. Where are you planning to live?”

“I’ll find something when I get there.”

“What about the first few days?”

“Motel…or maybe my waitress friend’s place.”

“What about work?”

“I’ll try the Ribeye first, and if they’re not hiring I’ll look for something else.”

“How exactly are you going to get around El Paso to find work?”

“Well, there’s public transit to start. Look, I’ll manage fine. Stop trying to stress me out.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“What, then?”

“What’s so wrong if I worry a bit about you?”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“So who’ll have your back out there?”

“I’ll have my own back.”

“You know that’s not logical, right? You can’t watch your own back. Try it.”

She lightly slapped my arm. “Stop kidding around.”

“I’m serious,” I told her, though the wide smile on my face told something different as I reached out and pulled her close to me again. “Wait, what about Thanksgiving? Who will you spend it with?”

“Chris. Read my lips. You are not responsible for me.”

“If you’re really going back, then you’re staying at my parents’ place for Thanksgiving.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You’re sure as hell not going to spend it alone.”

“I don’t even know your parents.”

“They didn’t know Tre or Pat, either. That didn’t stop the guys from coming out last year. Look, just don’t fight me on this, okay? You want to go back to El Paso? I don’t like it, but fine, I accept it. You’re at least staying with me a few days so you can find a decent place and not be alone for the holidays.”

“But I—”

“No more buts. It’s settled. Let’s talk about these paintings. When am I going to see one?”

“I’ve got a few done already, but I can’t show it to you yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a surprise.”

My hands roamed down her back and over her ass. “You mean for me?”

“Of course. Who else?”

“Awww. That’s sweet. So let’s see it.”

“I just said it’s a surprise.”

“Maybe I just need a little peek.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Okay. You have a seat over there on the sofa and I’ll get it.” She went over to the wall beside the easel where she’d stacked the framed pictures. There were a couple more than the few she had originally brought.

“How long do these take you to finish?” I asked, settling on the sofa to wait.

“It depends, I guess… I haven’t been working for two weeks, so I finished two more. If there are more details or faces in the image, it takes longer too. Yours took me almost three months. Well, not all that time, but I was still working and at my sister’s, so I did bits and pieces.” She stepped up in front of me with the painting facing her. “So, ready?”

“I sure am.” My phone rang just then in my back pocket. “Uh, one second.” I leaned to one side to drag it out and checked the number. It was my mother. “Hang on and let me take this, okay? Actually you should say hi.” I hit the call answer button on the screen and turned on the speakerphone. “Hi Ma.”

“Hi Chris. Is this a good time, honey?”

“Sure. How’s things? I have you on speakerphone by the way, so try not to embarrass me.”

She chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Who’s there with you?”

“A friend from El Paso. Oh by the way, remember how you used to tell me not to pick up strays at the side of the road?” Jo’s eyes widened and I silently mouthed the words,
“I’m just kidding”
. She shook her head, lips pursed tightly to hide her smile. “Well, this is my friend Jo. Say hi to my mom, Jo.”

Jo put the painting down and came to sit beside me, still shaking her head. “Hi Mrs. James. This is Jo speaking.”

“Hello Jo. Nice to meet you. You’re from El Paso?”

“Yes, ma’am. And heading back there in a few days.”

“That’s good to hear. I hope I’ll get to meet you in person sometime.”

I piped up then. “Actually Ma, I told her she can stay with us for Thanksgiving. That’s okay right?” Jo slapped my arm and shook her head to stop me, but I shifted to the side and continued. “Her only family is down in New Orleans.”

“Of course she can, honey. The two guest rooms haven’t been used since your friends came by last year. Jo, you’re more than welcome.”

“Thanks Mrs. James. It’s only for a few days.”

“No problem at all. Chris, I was just calling to make sure you were going to be here like you promised. Sounds like you will.”

“Yes, Ma. I’ll be there.”

“What about Tre and Pat? They can come too.”

“I haven’t talked to them yet. Let’s leave it open for them.”

“All right. I should go. Chandler’s napping but the twins have Connor and me running ragged. See you next week. Nice speaking to you, Jo.”

“You too, Mrs. James.”

“Bye Ma.” I hung up. “See? We’re all set.”

“Way to put a girl on the spot, Chris…and that comment about strays, you’re crazy, if not a mean bastard.”

I smiled. “Relax. I was just messing with you, sweet thing. And don’t think I forgot about the painting.”

“Right. Let’s do this.” She jumped off the sofa and picked up the frame again, getting into position in front of me. Running a hand through her hair, she tucked a few stray hands behind her ear. “This is kind of my first unveiling, sort of. I’m kinda nervous.”

“I’m sure it’s awesome. Let’s see it.”

“Okay.”

She slowly turned the painting around, and when it came into view, I think my jaw just about dropped. It was a portrait done in her intricate photorealist style using the family photo I kept in my wallet. To say it was awesome was an understatement.

“Holy…how did you…” I stammered out, unable to take my eyes off of it. “Wow, Jo…it’s amazing.”

“So you like it?”

“Hell yeah.” I finally tore away to look up at her face. Her eyes were lit up and excited. “How can I not? It looks exactly like the original. How did you get this photo? Don’t tell me you did that from memory.”

“No. I didn’t. I’m not that good. I sort of took it from your wallet and snapped a photo of it on my phone…uh, back in Beaumont…hope you don’t mind.”

The recollection of Jo standing over the motel room night table came back to me. “So you were snooping around my wallet. Sneaky…”

“Takes one to know one, bud. So you really like it?”

“I do. It’s stunning work.” I suddenly had a thought. “Hey…would you be upset if I take this home for my mom? This is her favorite picture of all of us, and she’d be so floored to see it.”

“Hmmm. Sure, why not.”

“Are you sure? She’s sure to put it somewhere special in the house.”

She nodded, smiling. “Positive.”

“Thanks for doing this for me, Jo. It’s beautiful…and very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s the least I can do for all your help. Plus I love that picture. Y’all are so happy in it…it was a real treat to paint.” Her eyes glossed over a bit, then she put the painting down and headed to the kitchen. “Are you thirsty or anything? I feel like a beer.”

I followed her into the kitchen. “Sure, I’ll have one too.” Before she opened the fridge, I turned her around to face me. “You’re a real special lady, you know that, Jo?”

“Naw. There ain’t anything special about me. I’m glad you like the painting.”

I backed her up to the spot beside the fridge, lifting her up onto the counter.

“You don’t give yourself any credit.”

“And you give me too much of it.”

“I highly doubt that, Miss Josephine Odette Celia Quinn. See, even your name is special.”

“If by special you mean convoluted and outdated, then sure…but still, don’t ever call me that again,” she warned.

I parted her legs and stood between them, looking down into her eyes. “We’ll see.” I ran my hands up her legs, letting one come to rest at the top of her hips. Her eyes fluttered closed, and that moan she let out made me hard as granite. I slipped two fingers below the line of her panties, sliding them over her warm fleshy folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet, Jo. I want inside you right now,” I growled.

She groaned out a sigh and inched her legs wider, rolling her hips to get my fingers inside. Tugging the strap of her top down her arm to reveal her breasts, I hungrily took one into my mouth, tugging her nipple between my teeth. Jo reached down to my sweatpants and pushed the fabric down with my boxers to free my cock. She pushed my hand away and wrapped her legs around my waist, positioning me then rocking forward to ease my dick inside. I was halfway in when it hit me I wasn’t wearing a condom. I lifted off her breast to grab the condom I’d left in my back pocket and she stopped me.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered. “And I haven’t slept with anyone but you in the last six months.”

I pulled back slightly. This sex kitten had only been with me all this time? I hadn’t expected that she would have been with anyone else since we met, but that was only the last three months. It was kind of surprising. Personally, I couldn’t say the same thing for the months before meeting her.

“God, if only you knew how much I want to take you like this,” I groaned. “I can’t lie to you, Jo. I haven’t been with anyone since we met back in El Paso, but there’s been others before you.” She nodded absently and said it was fine so I pulled out and slipped on the condom before entering her again. “Just you wait until mid-Winter, you wild woman.” Then I remembered. “Well shit. You won’t even be here for me to roam free, babe.”

“It’s okay,” she growled out, gripping my biceps and rocking into my dick. “Maybe when you visit for spring break… Forget about that for now, baby. I’m so wet for you.”

I paused her movements, thinking some sexual manipulation could work right about now. “Tell me you’ll stay and I’ll give you what you want,” I muttered, gripping her ass to remind her what she was going to miss out on.

“Don’t say that,” she whimpered.

“I mean it. Tell me you’ll stay a while.”

“Shut up and fuck me, Chris,” she hissed impatiently.

I did.

What can I say? I was weak. I couldn’t carry out another second of sexual manipulation when my dick wanted her as much as she wanted me. Still, that little factoid about her not being around was a real wake-up call. It stayed on my mind long after I rocked her world, and well into the night when we finally went to bed.

I
was
all packed and ready for the trip back to El Paso with Chris. Then at the last minute, just as we were getting ready to load up the car, I found out Pat and Tre were coming too. Chris wasn’t too excited about it, so I knew for sure this wasn’t a ploy to somehow get me to stay. This was all Pat’s idea. Apparently, his father was in Las Vegas for a meeting of some sort, which Pat called a sit-down, probably to make it sound glamorous. Their plan was to stay one night at Chris’s place, then Pat and Tre would meet up with Pat’s father. Tre was going along for the trip because it was Vegas. He couldn’t pass up the plethora of strip clubs the place has on every other street corner.

That was the thing, though. Vegas is over ten hours from El Paso, and almost a full twenty-four hours’ drive from Baton Rouge. It made no sense that we were all going to drive in Chris’s car. When I pointed that out, he explained that we weren’t actually driving at all.

“If we’re not driving, how the hell are we getting there?” I asked, a little stressed, and maybe a bit peeved too, as he had to have known about this for at least a few hours.

“We’re flying,” he informed me with eyebrows raised.

“What? Why?”

“Because it’ll give us all more downtime than driving all that distance each way. It’s a long weekend, but Tre and I have practice and classes on Monday.”

“All right.” I looked at the front entry way with my stuff, then back at him. “Geez, I didn’t pack these things for a flight. Driving’s different. Crap. Chris, please tell me there’ll be room for all that.”

He wiggled his eyebrows playfully and rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. I already knew what he was going to say. “Hmmm. Maybe not. I don’t think so, doll. I think you’ve got to take everything but a few clothes and the portrait back where they were.” My hands shot up to my hips and he added, “Relax, little miss sunshine. There’s room.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Pat’s dad is sending him out there on a private charter plane. When he gets here we can find out about how they’ll package it up.”

“Okay. You have some interesting friends.”

“No, Tre has
one
interesting friend who happens to be living in a dream world where he’s the son of a mafia boss. Sure he’s wealthy, but that’s about the only thing we know for sure about Pat.”

“So why didn’t you tell me about the flight before now?”

He shrugged. “Plans change. Pat only suggested it a couple of hours ago. I’m not a fan of flying but I can’t argue with convenience this time around. And by the way, you’re great at rolling with the punches.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” I groaned, heading to the trunk of the car.

He took my arm and stopped me from moving off. I stepped into his arms. “You love that about me, don’t ya?”

I did, but I couldn’t admit it now that I was leaving. My eyes narrowed. “Naw.”

“Come on, admit it. You love it, and you’ll miss me like crazy when you go.”

“I may miss you a little, but that’s all I’m saying about it. Now let go of me so we can get out of here. Wait, are we taking your car to the airport?”

“No. Pat’s on his way over.”

“Let me guess. He’s flying out there with his ladies.”

“Awww, hell no. My parents don’t have room for that, plus they ain’t tolerating that crazy shit he and Tre are into. Not in their house.”

“So does that mean that you and I…that we’re not gonna be able to sneak in a little playtime when we’re there?”

“We can try. I can’t promise you anything, though. There are so many kids running around all the time, we’ll be lucky to have five minutes alone.” I pouted at that. “You’ll be in one of the guest rooms, but maybe I’ll get lost on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night and end up in your bed.”

“Either that or we can go for a repeat at the Raging Bull Saloon men’s room,” I suggested playfully.

“Now there’s an idea. That’s what I’ll miss about you, doll.” Pat’s limousine rolled up with him and Tre at the back. Chris groaned. “Damn. They’re here. Let’s get this stuff in the trunk before I change my mind about letting you go.”

“You’re cute when you get like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re
letting
me go back to El Paso.”

“Well, I am,” he said with a wink. “You know what I mean. You’re your own woman, Jo. I’ll miss you something awful, but you’re calling the shots.”

She raised her hand to my face and played with my hair. “I’ll miss you too…a lot.”

“Would you stay if I told you the ‘L’ word?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not profanity, Chris. You can say the word without cringing. And if you’re cringing to say it, you don’t really mean it anyway.”

“You wouldn’t know if I meant it or not. Have you ever said it to anyone?”

“Well sure.”

“To who?”

“My mom before she passed. And my Aunt Alice before she passed too.”

“That doesn’t count. They’re family.”

“You’re no different, Chris.”

“Yeah but I’m a guy. We don’t do stuff like share our feelings unless it’s under duress.”

“Well I guess it’s settled then, because I sure don’t want to hear it if you think someone’s pointing a gun to your head. Plus it’s way too soon for you to be thinking of saying something like that…even if you did mean it.”

“Hey lovebirds, we’ve got a plane to catch!” Pat shouted out the limo’s back window. He and Tre stepped out, headed for the luggage at the front door. “Save the sweet farewell for later, will you? Oh yes, where are my manners. Hello Jo. How are things?”

I nodded over to them. “Hi Pat. Hi Tre.”

“Hey Jo,” Tre answered, grabbing up the two suitcases while Pat picked up a couple of storage containers.

On the second trip with my things, Chris pointed out my batch of framed portraits to Pat. “Will the airport staff be able to wrap these?”

“I’m sure they can figure it out.” Pat stepped over to inspect the paintings. “What have we got here?”

“It’s just a few things I painted,” I told him.

He picked one up and looked at it closely. “You painted this?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s a hobby.”

Pat looked over at Chris, then back at me. “Really?”

“Yes. I know I’m an amateur. Like I said, it’s just a hobby.”

“What did you say you do for a living?”

“Waitressing, mostly.”

“Jo, pardon my French, but
are you out of your ever-loving mind
? These paintings are magnificent. I mean, this style is rare to begin with, and I’ve only seen maybe six or seven photorealistic pieces, but you have a tremendous eye for color and detail, and incredible precision, young lady. I’d fathom a guess that aficionados would view this work as hyperrealism.” He looked over at Chris again. “Why have you and Jo been hiding all this fantastic work?”

Chris laughed. “Probably for the same reason you’ve been holding out that you have an appreciation for art.”

“Do you have any idea what people pay for this kind of work?”

“Why don’t you enlighten us, Pat.”

“I guess I’ll have to. Okay, the last painting my father purchased was about seven feet wide and four feet tall. It was for his stateroom at our house in Chicago. That painting was about double this size, but he got it at auction for forty-eight.”

“Forty-eight what? Dollars?”

“Thousand.”

I stepped forward, needing to hear that again because I thought he just said forty-eight thousand dollars. “Sorry. How much?”

“Forty-eight grand. And he thought it was a steal. Mind you, it was twice this size, but you cannot dream of charging anything less than fifteen thousand for each of these.”

I began to feel lightheaded from this information. Chris must have noticed, because he was back at my side with his arm on my shoulder a few seconds later. “Care to put your money where your mouth is, Pat? It’s only really worth all that if someone buys something from the artist. Isn’t that what they say?”

“True.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPhone, snapping a close-up shot of each one.

“Not the one of my family, though. It’s not for sale.”

“Fair enough. I’ll check with my father. Excuse me one moment.”

“You’d better. I don’t want you getting my woman’s hopes up.”

I looked up at him as Tre put the last of our luggage in the trunk. Chris didn’t seem to realize what he’d just said.

“I’m your woman, huh?” I whispered.

“You may not see it that way, but yes. You are.”

“Since when?”

“I can’t quite say that I know the answer to that. And it don’t much matter if you don’t see it that way?”

“You enjoy speaking in code, don’t you Chris? That way you won’t have to take a risk or put yourself out on a limb, right?”

“Here’s what I believe, Jo. I shouldn’t have to say a word when you’ve seen my actions, which speak way louder.” Chris was clearly frustrated after that. He took his arm off my shoulder and backed away. “Just forget I ever brought it up.”

I was about to scramble for an answer to that when Pat cleared his throat behind me. “Sorry to interrupt your lovers’ spat. I’ve got good news, kids.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“Before we get to that, Christmas is coming.” Pat scrolled to something on his phone and passed it to me. “Any chance you can do up a painting of this photo in time for then?”

I looked at the photo. Jesus. It was the one of his dad’s two thumbs on one hand. I passed the phone back and shook my head. “Sorry, buddy. No can do.”

“Why not?”

I wanted to tell him that some things aren’t meant to be immortalized, but I reigned in the coarse remark and settled for, “This would literally take me months to do. Would you mind if I think about it?”

He nodded. “Sure thing.”

Thank God. “Thanks for understanding. So what did he say about these?”

“He offered twenty-one for the lot of them, and not a penny more, because you’re not well known…or dead.”

“Holy shit! What?”

“You know? You’re not dead. Dead people’s art go for top dollar. It’s just a supply and demand thing—”

“No, no, no. That’s not what I mean.” My voice was shaking by then. I swallowed hard. “Is he offering me twenty-one…thousand dollars for those four paintings?”

“Yes…conditional upon in-person inspection, of course.”

“In cash?”

“Oh you’re old school, aren’t you? No, not in cash. He’ll need to wire the funds to your bank account, and you’ll have to prepare a bill of sale, you know, for tax and insurance purposes. All of this is after he inspects it with his art dealer…and you’re in luck, because they’re both in Vegas as we speak.” He looked over at Chris. “I think the two of you should join Tre and me for a little detour in Sin City after Thanksgiving dinner. What do you say, Jo?”

I looked over at Chris. “Um…What do you think?”

“I think it’s great. You should go and sell your paintings. You deserve a break, Jo… and top dollar for all your hard work.” He was saying all the right things, but I got the impression he was still upset.

“Thanks. So we’re going?”

He shook his head and wouldn’t make eye contact. “I’m not. I can’t. I won’t hear the end of it from my folks if I only go home for one night. You’ll be fine with Tre and Pat.” He looked at each of them. “Make sure you watch out for her.” They both nodded, so he walked over to the limo and opened the back door for me to get inside. “Let’s head to the airport, people.”

We got in and were on our way. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that I’d left the possibility of Chris and me back at his apartment.