Chapter 10—The Sin Bin

Amelia opened the door to Violet. Her friend sauntered inside, her pink hair swaying from side to side to the rhythm of her jaunty walk. But then, Vi never did anything without packing it with a punch or a bit of attitude.

Vi walked past her into the expansive living room with its kick-ass views. “Wow, this place is awesome.”

Amelia stood beside her. “Isn’t it?”

“And who are you?” Vi knelt beside Macy, who’d ceased her incessant chattering and clammed up. She looked up at Vi with those big puppy-dog eyes and conquered another soul. If only she could conquer her father. But then, he’d have to have a soul for that.

“Macy,” she said, ducking her head and picking at a bead on her Barbie’s dress.

“Well, Macy, I’m going to stay with you for a little while so Amelia can run an errand. Do you think we could play dolls together?”

Macy nodded and scratched her head. Vi gave Amelia the thumbs-up.

Amelia leaned down and kissed the little girl on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Be good for Vi, okay?”

Macy nodded solemnly.

Amelia drove the short distance to the coffee shop where she’d arranged to meet her brother. She picked a private booth near the back. The not-so-soft smooth jazz would drown out their voices. She felt sick with worry as she rehearsed for the hundredth time what she’d say to Dean. She rubbed the back of her neck, attempting to ease the tension shooting needles of pain through her spine.

Dean walked in a few minutes later. His mouth was set in a grim line, and Amelia knew this wasn’t going to be fun for either of them. He acknowledged her with a terse nod of his head, ordered his coffee, and slid into the booth seat across from her. He glowered at her as if she’d done something wrong.

She opened her mouth to speak. He silenced her with a raised hand.

“I know what you’re going to say. Ruby told me all about it.”

“She did?” Amelia had half expected this. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“That you caught her and Patrick late last night in the day care.”

Amelia slanted him a sideways glance. Still not sure what he knew. “Did she tell you what I caught them at?”

“She did.”

Amelia blew out a breath. “What are you going to do?”

He blinked several times and avoided her gaze. “I love her, Ammie. She’s sorry. It only happened that one time.”

Amelia snapped her mouth shut. She had no proof, but she was sure Ruby and Patrick had been dancing the vertical tango for a long time.

“She wants us to try again. I’ve been disconnected and distracted lately by finances. I haven’t paid attention to her. You know Ruby; she’s a princess, she needs constant ego fluffing. I haven’t given her that.”

Amelia had seen this coming. Dean would fault himself instead of placing blame where it belonged.

“This is not your fault.” She ground her teeth together. She wanted to say a whole lot more but didn’t.

He shook his head, his eyes sad. “Amelia, you’ve never liked her. Always blamed her for everything and let my behavior slide.”

Amelia didn’t like the feeling she was getting from this. She sipped her coffee, but the rich brew couldn’t erase the sour taste in her mouth.

“She told me you quit.”

“I did.” Amelia watched him warily, but he didn’t lift his head. Instead, he studied the menu on the table.

“We need a fresh start, free of negativity from the outside.”

She was going to throw up, retch up her lunch and the coffee she’d just drunk. She battled the nausea and remained stoic.

“Are you moving?”

“No, you are.” He still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Wha—?” She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.

“Ruby and I agreed we can’t start over with you living in the basement monitoring our every word and action.”

“I don’t monitor—”

“Ammie, I’m sorry. I’ll need you out of the basement by Sunday.”

“By Sunday? But it’s already Friday. Where am I going to find a place that quickly?”

“Move in with your weird friend or Mom.” He shrugged.

“My weird friend only has a one-room studio. And Mom, well, she’s living in her boyfriend’s house over an hour away if the traffic is good. I can’t go there.”

He still wouldn’t meet her gaze. He stood and shrugged into his coat. “I’m sorry.” With those two words, he walked out the door.

Amelia stared at the closed door for what seemed like hours. She dabbed at the tears drizzling down her cheeks, but she couldn’t heal the nasty hole her beloved brother had chiseled into her heart. She had weathered similar blows and bounced back stronger and smarter. She’d push past the hurt and concentrate on taking care of herself and her immediate problem—a place to live and a job.

She’d swallow her pride, squelch her common sense, and not only ask Brick for her job back, but a place to stay. Yeah, and she’d be in his bed within a week. She didn’t have any more backbone than her brother when it came to matters of the heart.

She’d ask him anyway. Bad choices ran in her family, but she thought she’d broken the mold.

Obviously not.

She drove back to Brick’s condo to relieve Vi, who didn’t need relief. In fact, she made no move to leave. After they put Macy to bed, Vi hung out with Amelia. Like any serious bestie, they got shit-faced together, discussed men, sex, orgasms, and dumbshit brothers. Just so happened Vi had a couple of her own.

A few hours later, Vi passed out on the couch in her underwear, while Amelia was asleep in her own bed before her head hit the pillow.

* * * *

A one-game road trip was hardly a road trip. The Sockeyes flew in, played the Friday-night game, and flew out. They won one to zero. Brick felt damn good getting a shutout, especially considering he’d blocked some tough shots.

The team was ranked number two in the Pacific division. This early in the season, ranking didn’t matter much to Brick. He was more concerned about putting in a consistent performance, which had been an issue since Amelia and Macy disrupted his life.

He hadn’t been laid in almost four weeks. That had to be a record since he’d hit puberty. The weirder part was only wanting Amelia. No one else. And even weirder, while he wanted her body in the worst way, he liked hanging out with her, watching her with Macy, and trading barbs with her.

The flight from Anaheim was relatively quick, and they were home by 1:00 a.m. He rode with Rush from the airport and once again was sorry he had. Rush raced down I-5 like a NASCAR driver, but not nearly as safe. They made it home in one piece, just to prove God had some other devious plan in mind for Brick’s demise. He hoped it was later rather than sooner.

Brick opened the door and dropped his duffel. He threw his suit jacket over the back of a chair and walked into the kitchen. He’d refused Rush’s invitation to party. Despite it being Friday night, he wasn’t in the mood. Rush accused him of never being in the mood anymore, and he didn’t dispute the truth. His buddy had almost pushed him out of the car when they’d arrived home, then taken off in a squeal of tires to meet some of the guys at a club.

After pouring a drink, Brick stripped off his tie, dress shirt, and pants, wiping his face with a paper towel. Fuck, it was hot in here. Couldn’t Amelia at least turn down the heat before she went to bed?

He smirked at the idea of Amelia in bed, dark hair spread across the pillow, her naked body soft and pliant under his hands, her legs open and inviting.

Fuck. The temperature in the room raised another ten degrees.

He crossed to the thermostat, but movement on the couch caught his attention. There was a lump under a pile of blankets.

His brows shot upward, and wicked thoughts abounded.

Amelia?

He grinned and briefly imagined crawling under those covers with her. She’d probably knee him in the nuts. Yeah, no probably about it. His smiled kicked up a notch. He liked it when a woman made him the hunter. He couldn’t recall the last time that’d happened to him. He relished the novelty of the experience, which most likely explained why other women currently held no interest for him. He was going through a phase; the sooner he dived in and got over it, the better.

He studied the huddled form, walked over to her, grabbed the blankets, and pulled them off with one hard snap of his wrist.

A small, pink-haired hellion leaped to her feet, shouting obscenities and throwing punches. His quick reflexes blocked them easily. She wore a pink bra with matching panties. Tattoos covered a good majority of her compact but shapely body.

“Stop it!” Brick shouted as he blocked a lethal kick to his nuts. And here he thought he’d have to worry about Amelia. This crazy chick had to be a black belt in karate.

Ms. Pink backed up a few steps, unperturbed about her state of undress and his. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I was going to ask you the same fucking thing,” he shot back.

“I’m Amelia’s friend, and I was too drunk to drive home.” She propped her hands on his hips and glared at him. For such a little thing, she had guts. He had a good fifteen inches on her in height. He glared right back. No one attacked him in his own home.

“Well, Amelia’s friend, I’m Brick, and I own this place.” He waited for his words to sink in, knowing she’d be groveling any minute now.

“Oh.” Her defiant expression faded as Amelia sprinted into the living room and screeched to a halt.

“Be quiet, you two. You’ll wake Macy.” With a shaking finger, she scolded them both, then did a double take. She blinked several times, looking from one to the other, noticing their state of undress.

“Are you…? Were you…?” She’d been rendered speechless, which Brick found immensely amusing.

Brick shot a sideways glance at Ms. Pink and caught her wicked smile.

“What if we were, Ammie? I told you I wanted to meet the hockey hunk.”

“What can I say? Instant chemistry,” Brick said.

“I—I didn’t know you knew each other.” Amelia was damn cute when she stammered.

Brick leaned against the nearest wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched the show.

“We didn’t until a short while ago.”

Amelia groaned and rubbed her eyes, as if hoping they’d both disappear. They didn’t, of course.

Brick had the distinct impression that Amelia’s friend was a wild one, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine her screwing some guy she’d just met, and his reputation pretty much sealed the deal.

Despite Ms. Pink’s state of undress, her very nice breasts, her belly button piercing, and her rounded ass, he didn’t feel a stirring of desire. Not the way he did when he looked at Amelia. She wore an oversized T-shirt with Tyee U on it. Her nipples pressed in two little peaks against the fabric. And those legs of hers—he wanted them wrapped around him as she screamed his name. Oh, fuck yeah, he wanted that.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Amelia’s friend threw back her head and laughed. “Seriously, Ams, I just met this guy. Nothing happened. He surprised me when he came in, and I went into attack mode. You know how I am.”

Amelia nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.” Her brow furrowed with skepticism.

“I’m Violet.” Ms. Pink turned to him and held out her hand. “Call me Vi. All my friends do.”

Brick grinned. “Now I’m your friend. Earlier you were close to castrating me.”

“That’s how I am.” She flipped shit right back to him. Brick liked her.

“She is,” Amelia confirmed.

“I see. Nice to, uh, meet you, Vi.”

Vi plopped down on the couch, still not bothering to cover herself, but Brick barely noticed. He was too busy attempting to keep his wayward gaze off Amelia and his dirty mind from diving in the nearest gutter. His dick had other ideas and was presently wallowing in the warm mud of that gutter.

“Got any more of that beer?” Vi asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Brick finished his off, grabbed three more bottles out of the fridge, and handed one each to the ladies with a flourish and a bow. “I aim to serve.”

“I wouldn’t suggest saying that around me. I might get ideas,” Vi teased.

“I like ideas.” Brick teased right back, unable to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Amelia. She was picking at the label on her bottle and ignoring them. He didn’t know what that meant. Women were so fucking hard to figure out. He’d been certain earlier that she hadn’t liked the idea of Vi and him together. But now she didn’t seem to mind him flirting with her best friend, and her best friend flipping it right back. The worst part was, Brick cared, and he wanted Amelia to care.

He didn’t understand this shit. A few months ago, he’d have had Vi beneath him in record time. Now, despite his coming on to her, he was just playing. That was all.

He didn’t want Vi. Nor did he want the women who slipped him their phone numbers when he walked from the team bus to his room or the ones who attached themselves to him when he was out with the guys.

He’d never been like this. He’d always sampled the local talent, along with the away talent, and any talent in between. Now he didn’t want anyone but Amelia. How fucking weird was that? He’d never in his entire life been a one-woman guy, not even when he’d been in grade school.

But then, he’d never been father material, either, but fate laughed in his face and gave him exactly what he didn’t want. He’d be shoved in over his head without any knowledge of how to swim. Unfortunately, swimming made him think of wet, mostly naked bodies, and how much fun it’d be to fuck Amelia in the water, maybe a warm Caribbean pool, or a swirling hot tub.

He groaned, and both ladies sharpened their gazes. Brick gulped down his beer and excused himself. He’d go to the privacy of his room and jack off. He wasn’t getting satisfaction any other way.

This shit had to stop. Tomorrow was Saturday night and a rare night off. He’d go out with Rush and party like a hockey star and drown his odd nanny obsession in alcohol and hot women.

There was one problem. He’d need a babysitter.