Tempting (Red Lips & White Lies Book 1)
Chapter 6

Hendrix

Dude. I heard you’ve got a smoking hot date tonight with your team captain’s little sister. Thought you were supposed to be the smart brother.

Maddox

Well, we know you’re not talking about Leo.

Leo

The fuck? I’m smart.

Callen

Sure you are, man.

Nixon

This shit again?

Hendrix

Is it again if it’s the first time I’m hearing about it?

Leo

And you thought you were smarter than me.

Hendrix

I am smarter than you.

Leo

Fuck you all. I’m smart enough not to date Easton Hayes’s little sister.

Nixon

We’re not dating.

Maddox

Are you picking her up and taking her out?

Nixon

. . .

Maddox

That’s a date, young grasshopper.

Nixon

We’re the same fucking age, shitstain.

Callen

You’ve been warned.

Hendrix

Do we need to slow this down for ya, Leo?

Leo

I’m going to knock your fucking teeth in when we play your team next month, little brother.

Hendrix

You can try.

Hey Nix. Just remember to wrap that shit up. Twins run in our family.

Callen

Truth.

Leo

Ohh . . . could you imagine if he knocked up Easton’s little sister with twins?

Maddox

Well, you know the Wilders are knocking up your sisters left and right. I wouldn’t go throwing stones . . . Glass houses and all.

Hendrix

Fucking sick, Madman. Why you gotta go there?

Leo

I’m with Henny on that one, man. Too far.

Hendrix

Don’t call me Henny, fuckface.

Nixon

I’m not knocking anybody up, assholes. I gotta go. Talk soon.

Killian

Dude . . . wait. I’m catching up. Nix – you’re dating Kenzie?

Hendrix

Guess I’m not the last to know.

Leo

You gonna call Killer stupid too, Henny?

Hendrix

Nope. I’m smart enough not to call an MMA champ stupid.

Killian

You’re both stupid. I don’t need to kick anyone’s ass. Jules will kick it for me.

Maddox

Truth.

Callen

Make smart choices, kids.

Nixon

Yes, dad.

Callen

Ohhh . . . I like it when you call me daddy.

Nixon

And. I’m. Out.

I slide my jacket on and grab my wallet, a little less sure of tonight than I was before those stupid text messages. Not because I’m worried about what Easton will think. I’ve heard the stories from back in the day before he wifed up Lindy. He was way fucking worse than I’ve ever been with the puck bunnies.

What the hell can he say to me?

You’re not good enough for my sister because you’ve done the same shit I have?

This girl. This girl was legitimately my first wet dream. She was the fantasy. Now she’s the girl you bring home to mom. The only problem with that is I don’t want to bring anyone home to Mom. Not yet. Hockey isn’t like football. I’m not going to be playing into my forties like my dad did. The wear and tear on your body is different on the ice. I’ve got maybe another five to seven years where I can play at this level, and I don’t want to split that focus between a family and the team. Not even for Mac.

“You look good, brother.” Leo looks me over as I walk into the living room. Madden is on the TV, and his team is currently killing the Kings. Guess he’s got his own daddy issues. Gordie’s sleeping by his side. My dog isn’t what’s considered a sporty dog. His happy activity level is moving between nap spots. But my whole family has grown up with bulldogs. They’re loyal little assholes.

“Thanks, man.” I straighten my jacket and pocket my cellphone. I don’t know a thing about style and give even less of a shit about it, if that’s possible. Caitlin’s been basically styling me for a few years now. Even before she started working for Everly. We were roommates when I was a rookie, and she informed me I looked like a color-blind college kid instead of a professional athlete. She took my credit card, went shopping, and informed me she was my stylist. “At least Caitlin didn’t make me wear a tie.”

“Gotta give it to her . . . she’s good. Have fun tonight. But not too much fun. I don’t feel like having to tell Mom and Dad that Easton Hayes killed you.”

“Always got to be a shithead, don’t you, Leo?”

“Yup.” He looks back over to his game. “Just don’t fuck anything up, Nix.”

Don’t fuck it up.

Shouldn’t be too hard.

I’m proved wrong a minute later. Mac opens her front door, and damn . . . she’s . . .

Damn . . . She’s beautiful.

Her dark hair hangs down around her bare shoulders in long waves, covering the thin pink silk straps of her dress. Her dress hugs her perfect chest and tiny little waist before it flares out around her legs.

She’s my sisters’ best friend.

My team captain’s little sister.

She’s in the damn circle, like Callen said.

I’m here to keep the dickhead doctor away from her and maybe make her smile.

She’s got a great fucking smile.

I open my mouth before Mackenzie puts a frazzled finger up in front of her beautiful face. “Give me one more minute.”

She disappears down the hall as I step through the door and pull it shut behind me. The same moving boxes from the other night sit stacked taller than Mac in the corner of the room, untouched. An oversized chair, small couch, and coffee table seem to be the only pieces of furniture she has. Out here, anyway. Her television hangs above her fireplace, surrounded by a few candles in what appears to be the only area she spends any time. Judging by the lack of furniture and the way she refuses to unpack, I get the impression she may not be staying for long.

“Hey, sorry . . .” She walks back into the room, slightly out of breath and so fucking beautiful, I lose any thought I may have had. “I broke the heel on my shoe and had to replace another.” She lifts her foot up in a little kick. A silver heel with a little ankle strap winks back at me as her eyes crinkle. “Crap. Where’s my wrap?”

She spins in a tornado of anxious energy as I pick up the pink silk from the back of the couch and grab her shoulders. “Slow down and take a breath, Mac.” I wrap the pink silk around her delicate shoulders and bend my knees, bringing myself eye level with her. “You okay? You seem a little . . .”

“Neurotic?” she asks behind closed eyes.

“I was going to say nervous.” Her eyes stay closed, and it makes my skin crawl. “Look at me, Mac.”

Wide honey-brown eyes fly open, and her lips part on a little O.

Fuck me . . . I take a step back, needing the distance. “You good?”

Mackenzie nods. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” She exhales, and her shoulders seem to shake before she smiles a pitiful excuse for a smile. “I broke one of the shoes Caitlin gave me, and my hair wouldn’t do anything, and I poked myself in the eye with the mascara, and now it won’t stop tearing.” She leans her head against my shoulder. “I’m a mess.”

“Don’t worry, Hayes. No one is going to be looking at your shoes.” I lift her face until I’ve got her eyes. “There won’t be a soul there looking at your shoes, Mac. You look beautiful.”

A pink flush spreads over her cheeks, then down her neck and over her chest.

It’s the kind of flush that has a man thinking bad thoughts.

Thoughts he’s not supposed to have about his friend.

I take a step back and offer her my hand. “You ready?”

“Will you think less of me if I say no?” she asks quietly.

“Not your scene?” Way to ask the fucking obvious, Sinclair.

“Not really. I kinda skipped the whole how to be social in your twenties thing and spent every extra minute I had studying. Now my version of a fun night is getting a burger from West End and binging season two of Stranger Things.” Her hair tickles my nose as she turns away from me to grab her purse. Sugar and citrus fills my senses and makes my stomach growl. Does her skin taste like sugar? Does her— “Ohh . . . One of those BBQ bacon cheeseburgers with truffle fries. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Sounds delicious.” I swallow and follow her to the elevator.

Fucking hell. It’s going to be a long night.

Kenzie

Thunder claps over head as Nixon and I walk into the ballroom at the Kroydon Plaza Hotel. The perfect ominous soundtrack for what is destined to be a disaster of an evening, if my day so far is any indicator. I tense when the first person I see is Dr. Dick.

“Hey now,” Nix whispers. “You want to get out of here?”

I push my shoulders back and shake my head. “I promised Wren I’d show up for the practice tonight. I just really don’t know how long I’m going to last.”

“How about . . .” Nix’s full lips tip up on one side—lips I want to feel pressed against my skin.

Women pay good money to have the kind of full lips and long lashes this man has been blessed with, only in no way do they look the least bit feminine on him. Nope. Not. At. All.

Nixon Sinclair’s picture should be in the encyclopedia next to the phrase alpha male.

Encyclopedia . . . ?

Who the fuck even uses an encyclopedia anymore?

“What do you think?” he asks me, and I realize I totally blocked out whatever he just said. My God. I need this day to be over. When I just look at him blankly, he laughs. “Come on. Have some fun with me tonight, Mac. Pick a code word. If it all gets to be too much, just say the word, and we’re out of here. But at least try first, okay?”

Holy hell. Did this man have a whole conversation with me while I was busy wondering what his lips would feel like on mine? “Like a safe word?” I squeak.

“No,” he chuckles, and the sound is deep and gravelly and way sexier than it should be. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Hayes. Like a you say the word and we leave word.”

I shrug. “Sounds like a safe word to me.”

Nixon’s hand skims up my neck, and his callused thumb brushes along my jaw, sending delicious shivers dancing down my skin. “Baby, if you want to play with safe words, we can leave now.”

My jaw all but hits the floor, and Nix takes a step back and drops his hand. “Yeah . . . let’s stick to code words, Kenz.”

Kenz. He never calls me that.

“Nixon,” a beautiful woman I’d recognize anywhere glides over to us. Annabelle Sinclair was one of my favorite people in the world growing up. Maybe because something about her always reminded me of my mom in a way Jules never could. Not that Juliette didn’t do everything in her power to take care and love Easton and me after our mom died, but it was different. Jules is our cousin. I grew up loving her and looking at her as a cousin . . . before she morphed into a surrogate mother. She was never my mom. After Mom’s death, Jules tried to love me enough for her and my mom, but it was always going to be different.

Annabelle was my best friends’ mom, and she was, and still is, just one of those moms you knew loved being a mother. She made it look easy, and if you were one of the lucky kids her kids loved, then she embraced you like you were hers.

I used to love being at the Sinclairs’ house.

“Oh my goodness, Mackenzie . . .” she gasps and steps between Nixon and me, then takes my hands in hers and looks at me. “Look at you.” She smiles warmly, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch Nixon talking to his father, who’s also come over. “I heard the girls mention you were home. How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m great, Belle. It’s good to finally be home.” I give her my go-to answer and watch her eyes narrow. She knows there’s more, but she’s kind enough not to call me out on it here.

“Well, we missed you, so we’ll take it.” Finally, she glances over at her oldest son before looking back at me. “And why didn’t I know that you were both coming to tonight’s event?”

Nixon leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “Sorry, Mom. I meant to stop by the house earlier in the week, but time just got away from me.”

Annabelle’s eyes dance between the two of us. “It looks like there’s quite a few things that you got away without telling me, Nixon.”

“Leave the kid alone, Belle,” her husband practically croons her way as he places a hand on his wife’s hip. “He’s coming over tomorrow for dinner after the Kings game.”

“Am I?” Nix asks before he realizes what his father just did and shakes his head. “Well played, old man.”

Annabelle beams, and Declan smirks. “I might be old, but I know exactly how to get my wife what she wants. See you tomorrow night, kid.” Then Declan leans in and kisses my cheek. “You should come too, Mackenzie. I heard Jules and Becket are in DC for the week. Bet it’s been a while since you’ve had a home-cooked meal.”

“Takeout sweetheart.” Annabelle pats Declan’s chest. “Don’t get their hopes up.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m on call tomorrow,” I tell them, unsure whether they know Nixon and I aren’t together.

“Honey, you have to eat, and our house is closer to the hospital than the condos are.” She links her arm through Declan’s and smiles like the issue is settled. “It’s a one o’clock game. Dinner will be at six, and I expect you there. Now, I see Max Kingston, and I think since he’s got two of my sons on his team, I might be able to get a big donation from the Revolution. If you’ll excuse us.” She tugs Declan with her, and I watch as the two of them cross the room to Max.

“Your mom is a force of nature,” I tell Nix in awe.

“She’s something.” He palms the small of my back and guides me to our table. “She also knows exactly how to get her way. Could you even imagine trying to wrangle five kids and my Uncle Tommy if she didn’t?” He pulls out my chair and waits for me to sit before taking his own seat. “Hope you didn’t have plans for tomorrow night because you know she’s going to expect you there.”

“We’ll see. I really am on call.” I take a sip of water and look around. “Dr. Dick at three o’clock.”

Nixon leans his face into mine, and I can only assume it looks as intimate as it feels when his breath skims my skin. “He’s been watching you since we walked into the ballroom. I’ve gotta ask, Mac, if he bothers you this much, why don’t you report him?”

I want to crawl out of my skin. Not just because I hate that he thinks I’m so weak I can’t report Dr. Dick. But also because I don’t want my pity date to know just how much he’s affecting me with barely a touch. “It’s not that easy, Nix. Trust me,” I quietly answer and suck in a breath as his fingers run over my bare back.

“Nothing worth doing ever is,” he murmurs, even closer if that’s possible, and I feel that tiny touch everywhere. “Are you scared of him?”

My words die in my throat as his fingers trail down my spine. “Uncomfortable is different from scared,” I admit on a shaky breath.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Mackenzie?”

Why is his voice so damn sexy, and why am I replaceing it hard to speak?

Another head shake.

“Then why are you trembling?” he whispers, his warm breath skimming my ear.

And damn him for noticing.

“Mackenzie . . .” he murmurs, quietly demanding an answer.

“Because it’s been . . .” I hesitate to finish my thought and luckily don’t have to when Lindy and Easton take their seats at our table. Loudly.

“Hey lady.” Lindy smiles, clearly seeing my discomfort and loving it.

I’m going to kill her.

Easton waits for Lindy to sit next to me before taking the seat on her other side and glaring at Nixon.

Oh no.

“I hear you’re doing my sister a favor, Sinclair.” My brother sounds like every overbearing asshole I’ve ever known, and I roll my eyes. “You two look awful close for just a favor.”

I take it back. I am going to kill him.

But I can’t off them both. I refuse to do that to my niece and nephew.

“You know he is, Easton.” My words are short but fired back at him with heat. “Back off.” I want to crawl in a hole and hide . . . As if this isn’t humiliating enough.

“I wouldn’t call taking a beautiful woman on a date a favor, Hayes.” Nixon drapes his arm along the back of my chair, daring Easton to say something, and I bring my eyes to Lindy, silently pleading for her to get my brother under control.

Wait . . . did he just call me a beautiful woman?

“Just keep your hands to yourself, Sinclair.”

“Or what, Hayes?” Nixon asks, no longer sounding friendly.

This is seriously not happening.

Lindy shakes her head at my overprotective turd of a brother, who looks about two seconds from launching himself at Nixon.

Okay. Time to stop this before it starts. I stand and hold out my hand to my pity date. “Dance with me.”

Nixon’s baby blues light up with something that looks a whole lot like victory.

Nix leans in, and his lips skim my ear. “Did you pick that safe word yet, Mac?”

Oh, damn . . . I think I’m in over my head.