Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds) (2 page)

“Just hold on to it
, okay?
Just in case. Call anytime, day or night.”

***

Being hit on wasn’t exactly a foreign concept for Shayne. She may n
ot be in her twenties anymore, s
he may have a son
quickly
approaching his teens, bu
t she had eyes in her head. She saw the way guys looked at her, and, completely disgusted, Matt made sure she knew about the ones she didn’t see.

Usually though
, she fought the same annoyance Matt didn’t bother to hide. Enrique Santiago
, however, struck her differently. He
made her feel things she hadn’t in a very long time. Actually, she wasn’t sure she ever had. Not in her adult life anyway.

Staring into his deep, dark eyes, she began to wonder what kind of man he was.
Athletic, for sure. But,
duh!
that much could be told just by looking at the guy.

His earring winked, caught by the light.
He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and her breath hitched. “Day or night, Shayne.”

As he turned to walk away, unexplained tears stung her eyes. Goo
d hell, what was wrong with her?
She didn’t even know him. Only knew what her brother said, and those details weren’t flattering. Santiago didn’t grace the front page of the tabloids very often. When he did, it seemed to be when one of his idiot team members did something and Ricky happened to be standing in the crossfire.

She focused on the black lettering against the milky white of the card.
Simply h
is name, email and a phone number.
No flash. No fuss.

“Mom?”

She put on a disapproving frown and turned to her son.

His hands shot up. “I’m sorry. Real sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She put her hands on her
hip
s, narrowed her eyes, staring up into Matt’s
hazels
.
“I raised you better than that.”

“I know.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m not the one you owe an apology.”

Matt looked over her shoulder, she guessed his gaze sought Ricky. He closed his eyes, licked his lips. “Excuse me.”

Pride, strong and flowing,
washed over
her as Matt strode right up to the table where Santiago sat with another
Rockets
player she recognized
as the first baseman. Mason James, maybe?
Matt spoke. Ricky nodded, then stood and extended his hand.

Those damn tears threatened again when Matt took Ricky’s hand and shook it. The first tear glided down her cheek when Ricky looked at her and smiled.

The edge of his business card cut into her palm and she glanced down at it again. The black and white letters
went wavy. She shook her head.
She didn’t have time for this crap. Getting emotio
nal about a guy she didn’t know
only introduced
dram
a to the steaming pile of shit that was her life.
Yeah, she didn
’t have time for
any of it.

Men could never be counted on.

The word was synony
m
ous
with disappointment.

And Shayne was seriously tired of being disappointed.

2

It’d been a really long night. Shayne’s feet ached and
,
as she kicked off her heels, she looked forward to crawling into bed and
not
dreaming of Enrique Santiago.

Damn man.

Her cell phone rang. She looked at the clock and frowned. It was after ten o’clock and the only people who might choose to reach out and touch her were under the same roof.

She fished her Android out of the recesses of her purse.
Her heart sank when her attorney’s number showed on the screen. She slumped down onto the
edge of the
mattress. “Hello?”

Megan spoke quietly. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I thought you’d want to know we lost, Shayne. You have to be out in fifteen days.”

“Isn’t there anything—” She stopped when her voice broke.

“No, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

Tears tracked down her cheeks, dripping off her chin
to splatter on
her lap, darkening the red to maroon
. She shouldn’t be surprised. Truth was, she wasn’t. She knew she would lose the diner, lose her home.

She hit the end button on the phone and tossed it on the bed. It bounced once before thudding to the floor.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage.
Her throat tightened up. Her eyes burned with tears.

“Shayne.”

Great. Just great.
She tried to smile at her brother as he
opened the door to
the room he
’d given her for the night
. “Hey.”

“What’s wrong?” Concern darkened his eyes
. “And don’t even try to say you’re fine.”

She sucked in a deep breath and forced it out through rounded lips. X stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, a don’t-lie-to-me expression on his face. When she only stared at him, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
He came over to sit on the bed next to her.

“Whatever it is, Shayne, it’ll be okay. I’m here. Forever. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

Despite her attempts otherwise, she choked on a sob and blubbered the long, depressing story. “…and now I have fifteen days to get out of my home, my dine
r, my only source of income, my…
home.”

Another sob gagged her. She dropped h
er head into her hands and releas
ed all the emotions sh
e’d managed to keep under wraps
. When strong hands took her by the shoulders,
pulling her into the solid body,
she didn’t fight the comfort.
She laid her head against the strength of his chest and lost herself in the steady pace of his heartbeat. In a world w
here she spun out of control, her brother
seemed to be the only thing keeping her grounded.

He stroked her hair, much like he did when she’d been a little girl. In fact, if she were to stand across the room and witness the scene, it was eerily simil
ar to the way he used to succor
her all those years ago.

How could she have possibly
forgotten?

She leaned back and looked up into the face of her brother. Of course he’d changed from the twelve-year-old boy he’d been when her mother ran from their father. The irony of Matt being twelve now wasn’t lost on her.

X
smiled. “You okay?”

She nodded the lie she couldn’t voice.

He chuckled, deep and low
, recognizing her inability to talk
. “The w
ay I see it, first things first;
we need to get you a place to live.” He waved a hand. “Problem solved.”

“No.” Her head shook so hard her brain hurt
from the jarring. “No way
. I’ve been on my own for way to
o
long to move in on your turf. No. I’ll find another way.”

His non-argument surprised her. He stood and began to pace, then went over to the window, cracked the blinds and stared out into the darkness. His big shoulders lifted, dropped. His chest expanded, contracted. He turned.

“Okay.” He crossed his arms again. “I understand your need for independence. But you need a place to stay. I will not allow you to struggle financially when I have enough to support you and Matt for the rest of your lives.”

She opened her mouth to tell him where he could
stick
his money.

He held up a hand.
“Hear me out.” He waited for her to nod. “I have a place downtown. It’s fully furnished, so we could put your stuff in storage, or we can move every stick currently in the place into a storage unit, your choice.”

“I appreciate your offer, but—”

“But nothing, Shayne. No sister of mine will be homeless and that’s where you’re gonna end up since I’m guessing you’re not independently wealthy. The IRS wouldn’t be taking everything if you were.”

Anger boiled in her blood. She shot to her feet and stomped over to stand in front of him, glaring up into his non-negotiable stare.

“You
don’t
get to tell me what to do, Matthias Xavier.” She jabbed him in the chest with her index finger.
“I’m a grown-ass woman, capable of making my own damn decisions. So you can take your masculine arrogance and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

He bit his lip, but the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes gave away his amusement. Instead of slapping him, she whirled and stomped away. His
enormous
hand clamped onto her forearm. She p
aused, more because she was
exhausted than heeding to his will, but didn’t face him.

“I’m sorry.” Deep breath. “I’m sorry.” Deeper breath. “You’re right.”

As her angry haze cleared, images coursed through her head of Matt living in deplorable place
s
, doing disgusting thing
s
, becoming just like—

Unacceptable.

Looked like she didn’t have any other options. “So,
y
ou have a place?”

“Yeah
. It’s downtown and it’s all yours. It’s been for sale, but I can’t sell the
damn
thing. I guess somebody higher up knew I’d need it.
You’d need it.
”

“I won’t take your charity.”

“No charity.” He gently encouraged her to turn around with soft pressure on her elbow.
She conceded. The concern in his
eyes caused a lump to form in her throat. “You can live there for as long as you want. As soon as you find a job, we’ll discuss rent, okay?”

“Okay.”

Relief, thick and living, rained over his features. “What kind of job do you think you want?”

She tried not to smile as she said, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be a stripper.”

He groaned and walked out of the room without another word.

***

To say Ricky wasn’t a morning person would be the greatest understateme
nt one could make. He hated every part of saying hello to the sunrise; the light spearing his eyeballs, the intense need to pee, leaving the warm cocoon of his down comforter.
Yep, every damned part of it.
Yet when the annoying sound of his brother’s ringtone
took on the part of
alarm
clock
, Enrique Santiago felt the need to roar and
bury the thing into the drywall
.

“Yeah?”

“You’re still asleep?”

At the accusation, Ricky rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. “It’s seven twelve.”

“And your lazy ass is still in bed.”

He bit back his frustration and simply shook his head. Some things didn’t change no matter how many pages were pulled from the cal
endar. His brother, older by twelve
years, still treated him like the child
he’d been when their father
passed away twenty years ago.

“What do I owe for this pleasant wake-up call?”

“We need to talk.”

Anytime his brother said those words, it meant Ricky was about to be confronted by all his faults—new as well as ones
long buried—and the disappointment
it caused
Eddie
and their mother.

“
Okay.
Why don’t you meet me for lunch? My treat.”

Eddie
’s
bark
mocked
. “
Get some sleep, pretty boy. I’ll see you at eleven thirty at
Mama’s
.” The line went dead.

Perfect!
Instead of a neutral locale,
Eddie
intended to take their conversation right to Mama’s front door. Or corner booth, as the case was.

Shit. He slammed his fist into the pillow and attempted to go back to sleep. Like that would be possible. He really needed to find his balls and deal with his brother man to man.

Maybe today would be that day.
Yeah, probably not.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed being told he was a shit-sandwich, some things just were the way they were. As it stood
,
Ricky didn’t have the energy to blow up the happy-little-family façade.

He tried to go back to sleep, but his brain kicked up
his brother’s condescending accusations
, his ever present displeasure. No chance of Ricky’s ego getting too big, he had his brother to keep him
humble
.

Ricky clampe
d his eyes closed tighter. “Dammit!
”

Another slam of his fist against feathers did little
to
relieve his stress. Only
two
thing
s
had a chance
to
alleviate the tension bunching his shoulders
.
And sex wasn’t an option
at the moment
.

Ten minutes later,
dressed in workout clothes,
Ricky grabbed his keys. The off-
season meant using a local gym instead of the one at the stadium. Not his first choice, but until he could fi
nish his workout room, he made
the sacrifice.

The drive to the gym took all of a few minutes. He put his stuff in
a
locker and was on the treadmill when an irritation in the form of a surgically altered body covered by spandex stepped onto the machine next to him.

F
rom h
er long bleached ponytail to the latest gimmick
pretending to be
shoes, she dressed for hook-ups not workouts.
She smiled, her collagen lips making him think of a blowfish.

“Hi.” She hit start and walked along at a clip that could qualify her in the Geriatric Olympics. “I’ve seen you around here before.”

He just nodded and wished he’d brought his iPod along.

“Aren’t you—”

He shook his head. “Nope. Whoever you think I am, I’m not.”

“But—”

“I’m just so
me average, every day guy tryin’
to get his workout in. Uninterrupted.”

Her smile faltered, her botoxed features fell
,
and he felt like a total ass. He hated when people put him in the position of having to blow them off. In the very beginning of his career, he got off on the attention, but learned
real quick
the chicks stroking his ego only wanted to stroke other parts of him. And he preferred to remain disease free, thank you very much.

He upped the speed on his treadmill. She lowered hers
until the tread stopped. He considered apologizing, u
ntil she crossed the gym and
hopped onto a stationary bike—r
ight next to another average, every day guy. Except that guy flashed her a quick smile before checking out her double-D’s. He stretched back, flexing his chest and arms.

What a chump.

Ricky
finished his workout, ran a few errands and strolled into
Mama’s
early. She looked up from where she’d been wiping the countertops with a white rag.
Her dark eyes sparkled and a
huge grin
lit up her gracefully aging
face.

“Enrique,
mijo
. What a surprise.” She hurried around the counter and wrapped him in a tight squeeze.
“Are you hungry? I’ve got some of your favorite
carne asada
. I can—”

“Is
Eddie
around?”

Her
black
brows drew toget
her. “I haven’t seen him. Is he…
are you—”