Tempting (Red Lips & White Lies Book 1)
Chapter 17

Behind every strong woman is a story that left her with two options.

Sink or fucking swim.

Floating through life isn’t an option.

—Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts

A buzzing pulls me from my sleep, followed by a husky voice. “Mac . . .”

I bury my face in my pillow, not ready for my dream to be over yet. My dreams never seem this . . . live action. I can feel Nixon’s weight on me, and it feels divine. I don’t want it to disappear, so I struggle to hang on to the last threads of sleep.

The buzzing won’t stop.

“Baby, I think your phone is ringing.”

Baby . . . ? What the⁠—

I pop my eyes open and realize Nixon’s weight feels so real because it is very real and very much wrapped around me. “That wasn’t a dream?” I ask hoarsely and lick my dry lips.

“Shit. That wasn’t a dream.” I fly out of bed, looking for my pager. “Where’s my⁠—”

Nixon sits up, shirtless, and grabs something from my nightstand.

I do not need to be noticing the way his muscles flex in the early morning light.

I swallow down that thought as he hands me my pager and phone. “Thanks,” I murmur. “Shit.” I hit speed dial and lock my eyes with Nix. “Brynnie thinks she’s in labor.”

Deacon picks up on the first ring. “Kenzie . . . Brynn’s water just broke. I’m putting the phone on speaker. She’s getting dressed.”

Shit. She’s nearly three weeks early. “Sounds like we’re having a baby today. Is she contracting?”

“She can hear you,” Brynn snaps from what sounds like across the room. “And I thought they were Braxton Hicks.”

I realize I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom, completely naked, and Nixon is just sitting there staring at me with hungry eyes, and my stomach flips.

Damn. That’s going to take some getting used to.

“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask, knowing her answer will determine whether I get to shower or not.

“Umm . . .” Brynn waffles, and I hear Deacon whispering sweet words to her.

“They’ve been about eight minutes apart,” he tells me, and Brynn clears her throat and groans.

Yeah. That’s definitely another one.

Once she can speak again, she moans. “More like six minutes, Kenz.”

“Six minutes,” Deacon blurts out, and she shushes him.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I thought we had at least three more weeks.”

“Red.” His voice is soft and placating. “You’re bag’s packed. Let’s go. Anything you don’t have, someone can grab.”

I look at the clock. “Nope. No more packing. I want you to grab what you have and head to Kroydon Hills Hospital. I’ll meet you there.”

Looks like no shower for me.

“Shit,” Deacon chokes.

“What’s wrong?” My radar goes on high alert. This is the first time I’m delivering a loved one’s baby, and I’m going to make sure everything goes right for her. It has to.

“I’ve got to wake Kennedy up. Jace and India aren’t home,” he groans.

Deacon’s assistant coach is Brynnie’s and my Uncle Jace, and he happens to live next door to them. But he and his wife left this morning for her brother’s wedding.

See . . . ? Six degrees of Kevin Bacon.

“I can take her,” Nixon offers, and all the color drains from my face as the other end of the line goes silent . . . Until it isn’t.

Damn it.

“Kenzie . . .” Brynnie says calmly. Too calmly. “Why do I hear Nixon’s voice in your condo at four-thirty in the morning?”

“That’s not Nix,” Deacon tries to tell her, but he’s full of shit. Not only has he coached Nixon for a handful of years with the Revolution, he also coached Nixon at Boston University before that. That man knows the voice of the man I slowly turned to glare at.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, dear. Oh, fuck this.” She must take the phone from Deacon because her voice gets much closer and clearer through the call. “Nixon Sebastian Sinclair. What are you doing with her at four a.m.?”

“Brynlee,” Deacon tries to calm her, but she’s just getting started.

“All of you shut up, or I will refuse to go to the hospital, and you’ll have to deliver the baby here. Now, someone tell me why Nixon is with you if you two are fake dating—because that doesn’t sound fake to me.”

Deacon coughs, and Nixon laughs as I slide on a pair of panties and grab a fresh pair of jeans. “Pretty sure you know what he was doing there, babe.”

I silently cringe.

He’s taking his life in his own hands, talking to a laboring woman like that.

“Fine. But if we spend hours waiting for this baby to come, I want every dirty detail, Hayes. And as for you, Sinclair. How fast can you get to our house? Kennedy loves you. She’ll be fine staying with you . . .” She pants and groans as another contraction hits her.

“Nope, Deacon. Wake Kennedy up. Bring her in her pajamas. Grab whatever she needs, and we’ll set her up in a room with Nixon until someone else can come and take her home. You are leaving now. It sounds like you’re in active labor. Do not pass go, and get your ass to the hospital. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

“What?” she cries, and I can hear the tears in her voice. “Kenz . . .”

“You’re going to be fine, Brynlee. Just get moving, and I’ll be right there. Love you,” I tell her as I throw on a long sleeve t-shirt and my brother’s Revolution hoodie with his name and number on the back.

“Love you too, Kenz.”

She hangs up, and I look at Nix, who’s still just sitting on the edge of my bed, deliciously naked. He’s impressive, and he’s not even erect.

Wait. I’m mad at him.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” I ask as I walk into the bathroom, put on deodorant, and throw my hair up into a bun. “Had to offer to take Kennedy.”

I brush my teeth quickly and swish some mouthwash as he walks in behind me.

He’s in his jeans, shirtless.

Oh yeah. That’s probably because his shirt is still in the kitchen.

Nixon picks up my toothbrush and shakes his head when I make a sound of protest. “That’s my toothbrush,” I groan, and the way he looks at me has me thinking thoughts I don’t have time for.

Nix brushes his teeth, spits it out, then backs me up against the bathroom vanity. His lips ghost over mine. “My mouth was all over every inch of your body last night. It was inside your body. You really want to complain about me using your toothbrush?”

Why does his nearness take my breath away?

I definitely don’t have time to figure that out now.

I dig my fingers into the hair that needs a cut at the nape of his neck and kiss him hard and fast. “I guess when you put it that way, I’ll forgive you for that. But I swear to God, Nix. You just opened Pandora’s fucking box by letting Brynnie know you’re here. We’re going to have to talk about this later.”

He runs the tip of his finger across my hairline and tucks an uncooperative curl behind my ear. “Let them talk, Mac. You need to go be a rockstar, and I get to hang with the coolest kid I know that I’m not technically related to. You know Kennedy. She wouldn’t be comfortable with just anyone.”

I shake my head. “We have a bajillion family members who live in that neighborhood.” I duck under his arms and dart into my room to grab my shoes and purse. “She could have gone to any of their houses, Nixon.”

He shrugs, and a slow, sexy, mischievous smile spreads across his face. “Let’s go, Hayes. I’ll drive.”

“I need my car, Nixon. I’m going to be there all day,” I protest as we walk into the kitchen, and he throws on last night’s shirt. Surprisingly, it’s still clean. Not a drop of mint chocolate chip to be seen.

Fuck . . . he’s so sexy.

“Are you on call or just delivering Brynnie’s baby?” he asks as he holds open my condo door for me.

“I’m not on call again until Wednesday,” I tell him, remembering one of the main reasons he and I can’t possibly work. We’ll never see each other.

“Then I’m driving, and I’ll drive you home. Let me in your world a little, Mac.”

He drops a hand to my lower back as we step on the elevator, then backs me into the corner and runs his nose up my neck. “I might surprise you, beautiful.”

You already have, Nixon.

You already have.

Nixon

I look over my cards and across the table, in the private waiting room the nurses set Kennedy and I up in hours ago, and study my opponent. It might be harder to read her if I hadn’t known her since she was five. “I think you’re bluffing, kid.”

“Care to make a bet?” She holds up a chocolate bar.

I pull out the contents of my pockets. I’ve got fifty bucks, a half a pack of gum, my phone, and my keys. I move the gum to the center of the table, and she eyes the money in my hand instead. “Not a chance, kid.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She yawns, and it reminds me of how young she still is. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”

Cade St. James, Brynn’s dad, walks in and hands me a cup of coffee. “Could be a while, Kiki. Babies don’t like timelines.

“You want me to take you home? We could wait there,” I offer, and she shakes her head.

“I want to be here when he’s born. Dad said I could be the first person to see him.” She drops her cards and tugs her blanket around her, then closes her eyes. “He also made me promise not to tell Scarlet that.”

Cade chuckles. His wife, Scarlet, is a force to be reckoned with.

Nobody tells her what she can and can’t do.

“Yeah well, you’re the big sister. Scarlet understands that, kiddo,” he tells her as he drops down into the seat next to her. “Take a nap. We’ll wake you up when there’s news.”

We sit in a comfortable silence until a small snore leaves Kennedy’s lips. As if that was what was holding back the incoming interrogation, Cade’s eyes narrow on me. He might be a retired MMA champion, having passed on his title to his brother-in-law, and now years later, his son, but swear to God, I wouldn’t want to piss him off or hurt someone he loves. He’s definitely still capable of fucking a man up.

“So where’s Scarlet?” I ask, knowing she’s not far. My mom and she are good friends. I know Brynn’s family well.

Cade leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s in the hall, talking to Becket and Jules.”

Fuck.

“What’s wrong, Nix? You’re looking a little pale there. You feeling all right?” Cade pushes. Guess Mac was right, and word’s already getting around.

The door to the private waiting room opens again, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Becket and Maddox’s dad, Sam, walking in, each with a coffee in their hand. I’ve heard stories over the years about how close these three are.

The former MMA champ, the US Senator, and the mob boss.

It’s like the start of a bad joke.

“Care to tell me why you were the one who drove Kenzie in this morning, Nixon?” Becket asks calmly, and I bite my tongue. He doesn’t scare me.

“She needed a ride,” I offer politely, even though he’s eyeing me up like I just defiled his little girl. Which I did. A whole fucking lot. In many, many ways. I also want to do it again. And again. I want to spend months buried inside Mackenzie Hayes.

“Should I make a joke about riding the way you cracked all the jokes when Deacon came home with Brynn, you asshat?” Cade asks with a glacial glare over the rim of his stale, tasteless hospital coffee.

“Please don’t,” Becket groans, and again, I keep my mouth shut.

I have no clue what the fuck I’m supposed to say.

I don’t have any clue what the fuck I’m even supposed to say to her, let alone to these three.

“You’re not going to add anything, Prince?” Becket asks Sam, who groans.

“Listen, you smug fuck. I still have a daughter who’s going to fall in love with some young asshole one day, and I’m not stupid enough to think you two won’t be there to make it worse. So I’ll save all my comments for this young asshole instead of throwing them at you.” He levels me with a stare that could make a man piss his pants. It would probably work too, if I hadn’t grown up spending the night at his house every few weekends. His wife saved my mom’s life when she was pregnant with the twins.

Fuck.

Our families are so intertwined.

Mac and I getting together is either the stupidest thing I’ve ever done or it was inevitable.

I don’t believe much in fate, but I’m going with option two.

I wait for one of them to say something . . . anything.

But they don’t, they just all sit and wait until I crack.

Doesn’t take too long. “I think I’m going to go check on Mac . . .”

“She’s busy,” Becket tells me, and Sam chuckles but doesn’t say anything. “You might as well say it. I know you’re thinking it.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Sam tells him, then looks my way. “Unless you want to tell him what she was busy doing before coming to the hospital, Nix?”

Cade chuckles, and I stay quiet.

“Just don’t hurt her, Nixon.” Becket clears his throat. “She’s a good girl with a big heart and a fucking ton of hurt already weighing her down. She doesn’t need someone to add to that. Understand?”

I look him in the eyes and ignore everyone else in the room. “Respectfully, if things are going to go anywhere with Mac and me, that deserves to be a discussion between her and me, not me and the three of you. But I can tell you I respect her. I’ve cared about her for half my life, and I’d never hurt her or let anyone else hurt her. I’m not sure what you’re asking. But that’s what I can tell you right now.”

“Quiet confidence is a good thing, Nixon. You’ve always had that. Remember that,” Sam tells me with a small nod of his head, while Becket just sits, staring at me, apparently trying to decide what he wants to say.

“You gonna speak, Becks, or can he go now?” Cade asks.

“Keep her safe, Nixon,” Becket warns.

“I’d protect her with my life, Becket.” And I mean every fucking word.

Scarlet opens the door with a beautiful smile on her face and tears pooling in her eyes. “He’s here.” She walks over and wakes up Kennedy. “Your brother is here, and they’re asking for you.”

Kennedy stretches and moves next to me. “Will you walk me down, Nix?”

“Sure.” I kiss Scarlet’s cheek and nod at the men gathered in the room. “Congratulations.”

And minutes later, when Kennedy opens the door to Brynlee’s room and I lock eyes with Mackenzie, it clicks. My heart feels like it’s going to thrum right out of my chest.

She’s holding Brynn’s baby, and I know without a doubt in my fucking mind, that woman right there is mine. One day, this will be us. She’ll be holding our kids, and I’ll be the happy fucker in the corner of the room, helping his wife, like Deacon is helping Brynn get adjusted in the bed. He embraces Kennedy, and as she walks over to Brynn, he mouths thank you to me. And I wonder if I should be telling him that.

“Do you want to meet him, Nix?” Brynlee asks quietly, and I shake away my quickly firing thoughts and get a little choked up. Brynlee might not be my sister, but I’ve known her my entire life, and unlike Mac, I’ve always looked at Brynn like one of my sisters.

“You sure, Brynn? I don’t want to interrupt. I should leave,” I stammer.

“Come in, Sinclair. This is probably the calmest it’s going to be for days,” Deacon tells me, exhaustion and elation lining every inch of his face. “Meet our son, Knight.”

I step inside, and Mac moves next to me, holding the tiny baby boy wrapped in a pale blue blanket. “He’s perfect,” I say as all other words escape me. “Welcome to the world, Knight.”

I don’t touch him. Just watch in awe. Taking it all in for a moment.

Then I look up at Mac’s beautiful face and tuck that same curl from earlier behind her ear. “You’re a rockstar, Hayes.”

Fuck. This is it. This is that thing Dad always talks about. That moment when you just fucking know, and it all changes.

She smiles softly, and Brynn laughs. “Hey. I’m the one who just pushed a ten-pound, two-ounce watermelon out of my vagina, Sinclair. Kenzie just spent hours yelling at me to push.”

Mac gasps softly, careful not to wake the sleeping baby as she carefully hands him off to his mother. “I did not yell at you.”

Brynn grabs Mac’s hand and squeezes, and a sob catches in her throat. “Thank you for being here for me, Kenzie. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Hey, what am I?” Deacon jokes, and Brynn shakes her head.

“You are my everything, my love.”

He kisses her head, and I feel like an intruder at this moment. As the room quiets, I move next to the bed and kiss the top of Brynn’s head. “You did so good, Brynlee. He’s beautiful.” Then I turn and shake Deacon’s hand. “Congratulations, Coach.”

“Take our girl home, Sinclair,” Brynn whispers, never looking away from her son.

Our girl. Yeah . . . I’ll share her with the girls. But part of me wants to tell her she’s my girl. Guess I’m going to have to convince Mac of that first.

“I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep, but I’ll stop by later today to check on you, okay?” Mac tells her, then follows me out of the room. “Any chance I can take you up on that ride, Sinclair? I’m exhausted and need a nap.”

“Any chance there’s room in your bed for me?” I ask, not ready to say goodbye. I know she’s not ready to hear what I want to say, so for now, I’ll have to settle for her not being ready to say goodbye either.

Mac comes to a sharp stop, and all joking vanishes. “I slept better last night than I can remember sleeping in years. You can be my bed buddy whenever you want.”

I run my hand over her hair and squeeze the back of her neck. “Be careful, Mac. I might just take you up on that.”

She leans her forehead against mine, eviscerating any distance either of us has been trying to cling to. “Good.”

A throat clears behind us, and I half expect a Kingston to be standing there. Only it’s not one of the many. I look up to replace Dr. Dick standing beside us, clearly annoyed. More than that, he looks angry. Douchebags never like it when you take something they think is theirs, even if they never had a claim to it. And this asshole has no claim on this woman and never will.

“Dr. Hayes. And Mr. Sinclair.” His words are curt and unimpressed. “I’d hope you could be more professional while you’re working, Dr. Hayes.”

“What the—” I start but clamp my lips closed when Mac places her palm on my chest.

“Sorry about that. I was actually just leaving, Dr. Richardson.”

He looks her over like he’s seeing her in sexy lingerie instead of pink scrubs, and I don’t like it. This dude gives me a bad fucking feeling.

“Don’t let it happen again, Dr. Hayes,” he warns before he walks off, and I clench my fist at my side.

“There’s something wrong with him, Mac. I don’t like him,” I tell her as she pulls me behind her into a room marked Attending’s Lounge. She moves in front of a locker and expects me to be able to think while she changes her clothes.

“You don’t need to like him or tolerate him. I do. And I’m hoping that between seeing whatever he just saw and seeing us together at the event, maybe he’ll take the hint and back off.”

Once she’s changed, she snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Nixon. You still with me, Nix?”

I grip her hips and pull her toward me. “You can’t strip in front of me and expect me to be able to form sentences, beautiful.”

She beams back at me.

“So fucking beautiful.”

And so fucking mine.

Yeah . . . I like the sound of that.

This time, I leave it be while I drive us back to our building and hold her while she sleeps soundly for hours. Mine.

Are the Revolution boys falling apart at the seams?

Kroydon Hills’s favorite hockey team played their last three preseason games this week, and they lost each one. This isn’t the team we’re used to seeing.

Rumors are swirling about infighting between the team. Could the magical era of Philadelphia hockey be coming to an end? Stay tuned and see . . .

#KroydonKronicles #HockeyHell