Fall With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 4)

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this.

It’s a sight most of the world will never be blessed to see.

So, naturally, the only logical thing for me to do is videotape it and post it to Instagram. It would be selfish of me to keep it all to myself, and one thing about me? I’m extremely charitable. A modern-day saint of the people, if you will.

I creep a little farther into the living room, aiming my phone at the floor. It’s where Jaxon lies, sprawled out in the evening sun streaming through the windows, holding Mittens above him as he serenades him.

“Silly kitty, chunky kitty, I kiss your tiny nossse.” He brings the cat to his chest, pressing a loud smooch to his pink nose before lifting him into the air again. “Fluffy kitty, handsome kitty, I love your extra toesss.”

Mittens meows, pawing softly at Jaxon’s face. When Jaxon sets him down on his stomach, Mittens crawls up it, booping his head off Jaxon’s jaw, his nose, his cheek, his forehead.

“Ohhh, I know, buddy. Daddy loves you. Yes, Daddy loves his handsome, chunky marshmallow.” He rolls onto his stomach, chin propped in his hands, feet kicking behind him, and the poor guy has no idea the camera is rolling. “You’re my bestest friend,” he says, taking Mittens’s face between his hands, showering him in kisses. “Yes, you are. Well, Mommy too. Just three extremely pretty best friends, living their very best lives. Mommy’s the prettiest, though. We’re so lucky to have her, aren’t we? So lucky.”

My heart warms, and I end the video. I consider cropping the last bit off before I upload it to Instagram—Mittens’s page and the Vipers’ page, oops—but I want everyone to know Jaxon’s living his best life ahead of game seven in three days, the Stanley Cup Final. Also, it’s extremely fun to set Carter off, and not being included in a video that lists Jaxon’s pretty best friends is going to do exactly that.

So I also send him a quick text telling him to check the app. Oops again.

I step into the room, and Jaxon glances over his shoulder. The grin that explodes across his face when he sees me is hands down the most stunning sight I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve had the pleasure of watching the Northern Lights dance through the west coast skyline. I snap a picture, because the Jaxon Smiling folder on my phone has quickly become my favorite place to waste the day away.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, flipping onto his back, crooking his finger at me. He pulls his phone out of his pocket when it pings, frowning at the screen. “Why did Carter just text me ‘how dare you not name me as one of your pretty best friends’ in all caps?”

“I’m sure I have no idea.” I lower myself to his lap, my mouth to his. “What were you two doing in here?”

Mittens shoves himself between us, crawling on top of Jaxon’s chest.

“Just reminiscing. We used to be a couple of bachelors. People called us the world’s most handsome dad-and-son duo.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Iconic, they said. Alluring. Said they’d never seen anything like it, probably wouldn’t see it again in their lifetimes.” He tilts his head, shrugging. “Mittens and I were just saying we wouldn’t change a thing, because it led us to you.”

“Life was so tough for you as a hot, successful, single dad.”

“You don’t know what it’s like out there, Len. Vultures everywhere, trying to get a piece of us.” He scrapes his palms up my thighs. “We’re lucky to have made it out alive.” He sniffles. “I could really use a blow job right now.”

“Oh, fuck off.” I laugh, swatting his shoulder as I climb off him, scooping Mittens up. “Mitts, your daddy is unbelievable.”

Jaxon claps a hand to my ass, hooks a finger through the belt loop on the back of my denim shorts, and tugs me back against his chest as he stands. His mouth dips to my bare shoulder, dragging wet kisses up my neck, pausing at my ear. “Unbelievably lucky. Now go get some shoes on. We’re going out.”

“But I just got home,” I whine. “I thought we were gonna watch a movie.”

“This is better than a movie.”

“Little in life is better than She’s the Man.”

He groans, tossing his head back as he follows me to the door. “For once in our lives, can we watch anything other than She’s the Man?”

“Name a better romcom and we’ll talk, Jaxon.” I stuff my feet into my Crocs, staring him down as he does the same. “You can’t, can you?”

He rolls his eyes, taking the cat from my arms, kissing his head before setting him down on the giant dog bed in the living room. As we ride the elevator down to the parking garage, he humors me while I list all the reasons Amanda Bynes and Channing Tatum deserved an Oscar nomination.

“Should I have brought my telescope?” I ask as we race across the bridge, heading toward North Vancouver.

“Nope.”

“Okay. Are we going to Carter and Ollie’s? Adam and Rosie’s? Gar⁠—”

“Nope.”

“Are we⁠—”

“Oh my God, you’re so annoying.”

I grin at him, the setting sun casting him in an amber glow. “Annoying’s always been your type.”

“You’re my type,” he mutters. “Just you. Now be patient. We’ll be there soon.”

I pin my arms over my chest. “I’ll be patient, but I won’t be quiet.”

“Yeah, you’re never quiet.”

“You love that about me.”

He smiles to himself. “I do. Don’t know what I’d do if your voice wasn’t in my ear all damn day.” He sighs, tapping his finger on the steering wheel. After a moment, he tells me, “I’m feeling weird about the game. I thought I’d be nothing but excited, but instead I feel kind of sad.”

I squeeze his forearm, sad for him. Vancouver and Pittsburgh have traded wins and losses back and forth for the entirety of the final round over the last two and a half weeks, sitting at three games apiece now. They play game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals in three days, this Saturday. It’s Jaxon’s first time in the finals, and I want this to be everything it should be. “What’s on your mind?”

“Gran’s not gonna be there. She should be.” He swallows, his grief palpable. “She’s the only one who’s stood by my side since day one. She sacrificed so much so I could chase my dream, and I . . . I want her there.”

“I’m sorry, Jaxon. I know how badly she wants to be there. It means so much to both of you.” Gran’s slowed down a lot this year. She says all the time she spent chasing after Jaxon is finally catching up to her, and she’s not comfortable flying out alone.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Bryce too,” he admits quietly.

“He’ll be watching,” I tell him firmly. “I know he will.”

Jaxon smiles. “Yeah, he will. I feel him, I think.” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ve been thinking about his parents too. I’m not mad at them, you know? I never have been. Just . . . heartbroken. But I think about how impossible everything felt when Bryce died. How I thought I couldn’t possibly live the rest of my life without him. I didn’t play hockey for a year, thought I’d never touch a stick again. It reminded me of him, and I didn’t want to be reminded of what I’d lost.” His throat bobs as he keeps his eyes on the road. “He was my best friend, but he was their son. Their only baby, their world. They were barely seventeen when they had him. And I can’t . . . I can’t imagine what it was like for them. I don’t want to, but I’ve found myself doing it a lot lately. I don’t think they walked away from me because they didn’t love me. I think they walked away from me because they looked at me and all they saw was their son, the life he’d never get. I spent so many years running from that loss, and I think they did the same.” He sniffs. “I guess I wish I could just tell them . . . tell them that I understand. That I forgive them. That I still love them, and I always will.” He swipes at the single tear the moment it falls, and like always, it triggers mine. “I bought two tickets for them. Got too nervous to reach out.” He lifts a shoulder. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll watch, and maybe somewhere, they’re proud of me.”

“They’re proud of you, baby. How could they not be?”

“Thank you, honey.” He smiles at me, eyes moving over my tears. “Now I gotta take those tears away. Hmm . . . Should we have an adoption party for Mittens?”

I choke out a laugh, drying my face. “An adoption party?”

“You know, something where you stand in front of a judge and promise to be his mommy for the rest of time.” At the look on my face, he frowns. “Judge too much? We can skip the judge. Just our friends and family. You can say a few words where you promise to love him and me forever, and we’ll do the same.”

“That sounds a lot like a wedding, Jaxon.”

“A wedding? Psssh. No, not a wedding. Don’t be . . . you’re so . . . a wedding. Ha.” He tugs on the collar of his shirt, smiling. “Mitts would look dapper as fuck in his tux, though, prancing down the aisle with rings tied to his collar, huh?”

“So dapper. Wonder what he’d ruin that day.”

“The vows, probably, when he decides to attack my nuts in the middle of them.”

I snort a laugh, and Jaxon chuckles, threading his fingers through mine, bringing my hand to his mouth. The kiss he sweeps across my knuckles is sure and steady, but I swear I hear the wild thrum of his heart as it races, the way it always does when he’s trying to figure out how to broach a certain topic.

“Is that something you want one day?” he asks cautiously. “A wedding? Marriage? Or did what happened with Ryne change your mind?”

I skim my teeth across my lower lip, imagining the wedding that was supposed to be. So many people I didn’t know, people that weren’t important to me. The image changes before my eyes, a picture of what a perfect wedding would look like. Except the only thing at the end of the aisle is Jaxon, waiting for me with a brilliant smile.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I’d like a wedding one day. A marriage with my best friend.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” He nods, clicking a beat out on his tongue, knuckles blanching with his tight grip on the steering wheel. “Hey, Len?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re my best friend.”

My heart smiles, a beam so bright it warms me from the inside out.

We pause at a stop sign, and I lean over the console, taking his face in my hands, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “And you’re mine.”

Two minutes later, we’re weaving through a quiet, familiar neighborhood. We pass Emmett and Cara’s street, then Garrett and Jennie’s. Carter and Olivia’s, then Adam and Rosie’s. When we turn into a small court, pull up a long, gated driveway, park in front of a stunning two-story modern colonial home, my pulse races.

“What are we doing?” I ask, Jaxon towing me from the car. “Where are we?” I spin around on the cobblestone driveway, taking everything in. The gorgeous garden, the oversized front porch, the mixture of stone, dark siding, and wooden beams that make this house incredible. And God, the mountains. What a spectacular, breathtaking backdrop.

Jaxon takes my hand, leading me up the front steps.

“Who lives here?”

He just smiles, punching in a code on the keypad. When it beeps, he opens the door, hand on my back as he guides me inside.

I take in the grand entryway, all the exposed brick, dark wood, the floor-to-ceiling windows. “It’s empty. Nobody lives here? Is it for sale?”

He kicks off his shoes, and I follow his lead, stumbling after him when he heads into the first room off to the right, a cozy little den with a bench seat at the window. “Nice little spot to curl up with a mafia romance.”

I blink at him, then dash after him when he heads across the hall, opening the glass pocket doors, stepping inside a spectacular room with built-in bookshelves.

“Tons of space for all those mafia romances.”

“And the why choose ones,” I whisper in wonder.

“And the sapphic ones. The, uh, alien ones, and, uh”—he rubs his neck—“I’m pretty sure I saw one with tentacles or something.”

“Yeah, that’s a great one.” I spin around, nearly crumbling in front of the stone fireplace. “So this is a library?”

“A library. An office.” He shrugs. “For a photographer who likes to read or something, I dunno.”

I cock my head, but before I can question him, he claps his hands. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Upstairs is more of the same, one stunning bedroom after another. Oversized bathrooms, linen closets galore. The last room at the end of the hall is the primary bedroom, with cathedral ceilings and another stone fireplace, French doors that lead out to a spacious balcony, the mountains right there, right in the backyard, so close you can taste them.

My heart patters as I take in the en suite bathroom, the soaker tub, the extra-wide glass shower. The double vanity with more counter space than a girl could ever hope for. I join Jaxon back in the bedroom, where the nerves are rolling off him in waves.

“Four bedrooms? Wow. Roomy.”

He pulls his hat off, raking his fingers through his hair. “I guess some people like kids and shit.”

“Kids and shit,” I murmur. “Do you? Like kids and shit?”

He shrugs, knocking on the door frame. “What is this? Wood?”

“Jaxon.”

He grabs the top of it, pulling on it with both hands, knotted muscles in his gorgeous, tattooed arms flexing. “Seems sturdy enough.”

“Jaxon Eugene Riley. Look at me right now.”

His head hangs, shoulders slumping. He spins around, huffing, looking up at me with ginormous puppy dog eyes.

“Do you want kids, Jaxon?”

“With you?”

I nod. “Hypothetically speaking.”

Color floods his cheeks, turning them the sweetest shade of ruby red. He wrings his hands, gaze bouncing around the room, before it finally lands back on me. “Yes.”

I smile, walking by him. “Okay.”

“Uh . . . okay?” He chases after me, catching me on the staircase. “You didn’t . . . um, hey, you didn’t say if you wanted kids.”

“With you?”

He nods.

“Hypothetically speaking?”

He shakes his head, the tension he holds pulling his brows together, dragging the corners of his mouth down. “Real.”

I grin. “Yes.”

Relief slides through him, and he punches a fist through the air. A fist that he quickly stops, looks at with wide eyes, and hides behind his back. “Nice,” he whispers. “That’s nice.”

Snickering, I bounce down the stairs and through the hall, mouth dropping when I come to the open-concept kitchen and living room. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s amazing, but come look at this.” He grips my hand, tugging me through the kitchen, down a small hallway. He pauses at a glass door, glancing back at me with giddy anticipation. Then he opens the door and steps aside. “After you, honey.”

My heart free falls from my chest, spilling to a puddle at my feet. Something thick settles in my throat as I step inside the dark, round room, something I can’t swallow down. I don’t know how I get there, but I find myself in the middle of the room, slowly twirling around, taking it all in.

Windows. Every inch of this space is enclosed by windows. From the floor all the way to the . . . the . . . the . . .

“Jaxon,” I gasp, and my heart restarts, pounding a frantic, unrelenting beat against my rib cage as I look up. Up at the glass ceiling. At the last bits of orange light that disappear. At the navy sky. At the stars. All the fucking stars, dancing right here above us. Tears pool in my eyes, blurring my vision. “It’s . . . it’s . . .”

“An observatory,” he whispers, chest against my back as he winds his arms around me. “So you can watch the stars every single night.”

I blink, and my tears spill down my cheeks. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. Well, nothing I can’t take back.” He lifts a shoulder. “Just a little deposit to hold it, in case you like it.”

“You want to live here? With me?”

“I’d live anywhere with you, Lennon, so if this isn’t it, that’s okay. If you want something different, we can keep looking. If you aren’t ready and you wanna stay put in the condo a while longer, that’s cool too. It doesn’t matter to me where we call home, just as long as it’s me and you.” He moves in for a kiss, stopping at the last second. “And Mitts, obviously. He’ll want his own bedroom for all his shenanigans. And he’ll need a big closet for all his outfits. I thought about getting him a cat brother or sister, but he feels like an only cat to me.”

“He wasn’t made to share the spotlight.”

Jaxon indulges me with a kiss that severs every connection in my brain, until my limbs turn to limp noodles, and he’s got me pressed against a window, his cock hard and rocking against me. “Do you like it?” he asks, and the softness in his voice brings me back to earth.

I sling my arms around his neck. “I can’t imagine anything more perfect.”

“So, does that mean . . . ?”

“Yes.”

He blinks at me beneath the moonlight. Opens his mouth. Closes it. “I wanna ask you if you’re sure,” he whispers, “but I’m not going to give you the chance to change your mind.”

“I’m not ever changing my mind about you, Jaxon.”

“Thank God, because I had this made for you.” He pulls out what I think is a bracelet, a diamond-studded letter J hanging from the delicate gold chain, next to a heart, an L on the other side, but then he sinks to his knees and fastens it around my ankle. He hums his approval, palms gliding up my thighs, and then he unbuttons my shorts, slowly tugs them down my legs, my panties following quickly. When he pushes me against the glass, he grins up at me, devilish and playful. “You know what they say. One woman’s anklet is the right man’s necklace.”

In one fell swoop, he hooks my legs around his neck and buries his face between them. He flattens his tongue against my pussy, drags it up, moaning about how good I taste, how wet I always am, and then he sucks my clit into his mouth.

It takes me two minutes to come on his tongue. Two embarrassing minutes before I’m shattering around him. And he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up as I ride out my orgasm on his face. He drags his thumb through the soaking mess between my legs, pushes it into my ass, and makes me come a second time while he’s feasting on me. This time, I last a whopping thirty-six seconds. I know, because he makes me count each agonizing one.

Chest heaving, I yank off my shirt as he strips, slow and arrogant, and I’m desperate to wipe that smug smirk from his face. “Jaxon,” I whine, rubbing my thighs together, chasing the friction I need. “Hurry up.”

He tsks, tilting his head as he fists his cock, pumps it slowly. “So impatient today. You need to be taught a lesson.”

Oh, God, yes. I drop to my knees before he can ask, mouth opening as he stalks toward me.

He pushes my curls back, strokes my cheekbone. “Look at you, honey. So desperate for my cock.” The pad of his thumb runs along my lower lip. “Think you can take it?”

I nod eagerly. “Mhmm.”

He chuckles. “Of course you can. Ask nicely, honey.”

“Please, Jaxon. Can I have your cock?”

“So polite. That’s not the way I’m gonna fuck your mouth, though.”

“Prove it.”

A grin explodes across his face, and he sinks inside me in a single thrust, hitting the back of my throat. “Jesus,” he groans, gripping my face. He pulls out slowly, pushes back in. Over and over, faster and deeper each time as my throat relaxes. “Such a good fucking girl,” he pants. “Fuck, this mouth is heaven.”

He pulls out of me without warning, tugging me to my feet. My back hits the glass, and my eyes roll to the stars above me as Jaxon hikes my leg around his hip and plunges inside me. He grips my chin with a shaky hand, forcing my gaze back to his, hazel eyes hooked on me as he pistons inside me, one powerful, breath-stealing thrust after another.

“I fucking love you. Christ, I love you. Scared of how fucking much I love you, Len.” His eyes close for just a moment, the shake of his head so small I almost miss it. And then his mouth is on mine, prying me open, his tongue sweeping inside. I claw at his shoulders, yank at his hair, pull him closer as he fucks me, because I want him everywhere. I want to taste his pleasure, swallow his moans. I want to feel the way his tongue moves when he cries out my name, and I want everyone to know he does it just for me.

“Up for a little revenge?” he asks, the words hoarse and staggered. I follow his gaze to the floor, where my phone is spilling out of the pocket of my shorts. When I look back at him, he cocks a brow. “Yes or no, honey. Your decision.”

Adrenaline courses through me, pushing me toward the edge. When I nod, Jaxon scoops my phone up, plunging back inside me without missing a beat. With one hand, he holds me to the window. With the other, he finds MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT in my contacts. When it rings, he hits the speaker and sets the phone on the ledge, pounding into me.

“Lenny Bean?” Ryne’s frantic voice comes over the speaker. “Angel, are you okay? Did you change your mind?”

“No,” Jaxon grunts. “She didn’t change her mind. Yes, she’s okay. Better than okay.”

“What the⁠—”

“Shhh. I’m fucking my girlfriend.”

My head rolls over my shoulder, pressure building low in my belly. Jaxon hooks his arms beneath my thighs, jerking them up, spreading me wider, his pelvis slapping against my clit with each thrust.

“Oh, fuck,” I whimper, back arching.

“What the fuck?” Ryne bellows. “What’s going on?”

“I already told you. What aren’t you getting?” He pulls my head taut, dragging his tongue up my throat, pressing his damp forehead to mine as he holds my gaze. “Go on, honey. Spell it out for him. Tell him who’s fucking this pussy.”

“You,” I cry, nails biting into his shoulders. He strums my clit, pulling his name from my lips, over and over, while strings of expletives explode from Ryne’s mouth.

“Look at this cunt. Soaked and greedy, taking me so deep, stretching around me. So fucking perfect. You take my cock so good, honey. So fucking good.”

“Oh my God.” My eyes squeeze shut, legs quivering, threatening to give out when he pulls out of me, spins me around, and bends me over. He sinks back inside me with a single, punishing thrust that has me screaming his name, and when he pushes his thumb inside me, the edges of my vision go blurry.

“Hang on for me, honey.”

“I can’t.” My head wags side to side as I struggle to hold on. “Oh my God, I can’t handle it.”

“You can,” he promises, “but this piece of shit never gets to hear you come again.” He slaps his hand over my phone, finger hovering above the end call button. “Hey, Ryne? On your honeymoon, I fucked the ring right off your fiancée. Fucked her the way she deserved to be fucked. Best night of my life at the time, but it just keeps getting better. I’m gonna fuck her the way she deserves to be fucked for the rest of my life. I’m gonna love her that way too.” He ends the call, wrapping his hand around my throat, burying his face in my neck as my spine shakes, my walls squeezing him tight.

“I thought the best revenge was a happy life,” I manage.

“Sure is, honey. Second best is being fucked the way you deserve to be fucked for the rest of your life. Third best is making sure your pencil-dick ex knows it.” He flips me over, captures my mouth with his, and drives himself inside me, deeper than he’s ever been. I don’t know if the stars I see when I shatter around his cock are the ones in the sky or the ones he put there. All I know is my name leaving his lips as he explodes inside me is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. And the most beautiful sight? Watching him sink back to his knees, gather the cum leaking from my pussy with two fingers, pushing it back inside, all while those hazel eyes sparkle with mischief. They flick to me, and he grins, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his mouth. “Just practicing.”

He presses his tongue against my pussy, drags it through my slit, grabs the back of my neck, and kisses me. The taste of us swirled together on his tongue melts my brain, and my eyes roll back as I cling to him, his sweat-soaked body pressed tight to mine.

He disappears—naked, and with only his hand covering his cock—out the front door, returning two minutes later with blankets and pillows, and we spend the next hour lying together beneath the stars.

“Did we just buy a house?” I whisper against his chest.

“I think legally it’s already ours. I came on it; it’s mine.”

“Oh, wow. I must have missed that one in the rule book.”

“It’s in there. Look it up.”

Laughing, I press my lips to the spot over his heart. “I love you. I can’t wait to make this our home and paint everything pink and decorate for every holiday and hook my audiobooks up to the speakers and watch Mittens terrorize you and poor Magic Mike first thing every morning.” I heave a dramatic, happy sigh. “Doesn’t that sound like a beautiful life?”

“Life’s been beautiful since you walked into it, Lennon. Doesn’t matter what it looks like, because through it all, I’m only gonna be looking at you.”

I sit up so I can get a good look at him. His eyes flick to mine, rolling.

“Yeah, I know. Who knew I could be so thoughtful?”

“I did.”

“It’s been said I’m sweeter than sugar.”

“I doubt anyone’s ever said that to you, even Gran.”

“This one time, she said my attitude was worse than sour milk.” He frowns. “It was three weeks ago.”

I bark out a laugh, and he tugs me back down beside him. Curling into his side, I lay my cheek over his heart, watching the stars twinkle above us as he twirls my curls around his fingers.

“Honey?” The single word is as soft as the featherlight brush of his fingertips as he trails them up and down my arm. “You once told me to look for Bryce in the stars. That I’d find him there, lighting even the darkest nights. But I didn’t know I’d find so much more there.”

His gaze comes to mine, all the love and gratitude he holds there unwavering. “Do you know what I feel when I look at the stars? I feel love. I feel at peace. I feel at home, honey. That’s what I found in the stars. I found my home.”