Try and Play Me, Boy (The Playgirls #2) (4 page)

Chapter 7:

When Gia Colburn called for a family meeting, you dropped your shit, cancelled any trip which might clash – would it be a business meeting or a fucking honeymoon – and you just went, if you cared about your balls.

Knowing what it was about before everyone, this time, Colt dragged his feet all the way from his penthouse in Westlake to his parent’s mansion on the hills.

One look around the drawing room was enough to get him out of his funk.

It couldn't be about Alice’s pregnancy, there was some serious shit happening; not because Gia seemed pissed – his mother had a quick temper, she yelled at someone on a daily basis, but they were used to it.

No, everyone was sweating under the collar because Harry Colburn was fuming.

Harry, their father, was the definition of a lay back kinda guy. Sure, he’d been a great CEO in his time, but he’d worked the strict requisite amount of hours to catch the sunset at the beach most evenings. He surfed, played guitar and ignored the fact that he was approaching sixty; the mirror hadn’t caught the hint either.

However for the first time, he seemed to be exactly what he was: the powerful, dangerous head of their family.

Fuck. They’d been conned. Someone had taken compromising pictures. He had cancer.

Colt wasn’t certain what the problem was, but it was big.

“Good, you’re here. Sit.”

Colt obeyed immediately; he’d never heard an order from his dad in thirty-two years, and he sincerely hoped never to hear one again.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so let’s get it over with quickly,” Harry announced to the room. “Gia and I are leaving Los Angeles.”

Fuck. What the hell was happening?

Kane beat him to it, simultaneously demanding explanations and offering assistance; Harry turned to him with a ghost of a smile, which was quick to disappear.

“We’ll be in San Francisco, close to the mother of our first grandchild.”

Harry’s gaze returned to Colt, cold and judgmental, as he froze from head to toes.

So much for Alice sweetening Gia up.

“Alice is adamant about staying up with her family, and that's where your mother and I will be, Colt. You're expected to stay here and take care of the business. You're good at that.”

“No way.” Colt’s tone was final. “I told Alice I was accompanying her to her appointment and…”

“Your mother and I will take her. If you'd acted like a responsible adult, her appointment would have been five minutes from your office.”

Why the fuck was he being treated like he kicked puppies in his spare time?

“I have done nothing wrong, dammit! She assumed I fucked Kim at your party. Look at the CCTV, it was all her! Then, she decided to stop seeing me, and when I moved on…”

“I've talked to your siblings after Alice called,” Gia intervened.

She’d never spoken to him in that voice, so cold and detached.

“You let Kimberly Dennis grope you, and you screwed around without having the balls to end your relationship, after Alice stopped talking for ten days, like the egocentric, spoilt, selfish man we’ve always known. Meanwhile your ex-whatever was trying to wrap her head around the fact that she’d just become a single mother.”

“She isn't!” he yelled.

Alice wasn't a single anything.

“Here's what's happening.
You
will stay here, and take care of
your
business while I go up to San Francisco, to
my
future wife. You aren't happy with it? Good for you. I resign.”

He stormed out and drove all the way down to the airport; it was only during take-off that he'd realized what had just happened.

He was on his way to sort things out with Alice, which was exactly what Gia and Harry would have wanted.

Sure, they'd ordered him to stay, but that was probably because they knew their son: it was one way to ensure that he would go. Otherwise, he would, have been at the office by now.

He would have taken Alice to her OB/GYN and returned to LA by nightfall, dragging things for weeks, months. Probably until it was too late.

Fuck. And he'd thought Kim had been manipulative.

This time, though, Colt couldn't say he minded.

When he’d landed, as expected, a text was informing him that his ridiculous resignation hadn’t been recorded in writing and was therefore, not accepted.

However
, Gia added,
come back without that girl, and we’ll discuss it.

•

A stronger man might have directly gone to her, but he drove the rental car he'd commissioned for the week to her brother’s, first. He needed to get a feel of what he was walking into.

Colt was by no mean a coward, but the prospect of facing Mara’s wrath, although she'd seemed so impressed with him when they'd met, and the idea of finding out whether Paul owned a rifle calmed his ardour.

Following the directions Kellan gave him, he found the building and rang the intercom.

“Yep?” A bored female voice responded.

Colt wished he could have called ahead to see if he was intruding, but he didn't have Shane’s number, so moot point.

“Is Shane around?”

The interphone disconnected and the door next to him started buzzing. Ok, then.

Colt let himself in and took the lift to the last floor.

Shane was waiting in front of his door, a smirk at the corner of his mouth when he took him in.

“Warned you, didn't I?” the guy asked smugly.

“I should have listened,” he admitted.

Shane had told him Alice never let a guy who'd disappointed her near her again; in his case, she had, but she'd kept her emotions locked up.

Well, until he went and royally fucked it all up for good.

Shane smiled, offering his hand for a shake.

“Nah. Wouldn't have made a difference; there was going to be some sort of rift at some point, so she could run before she got too invested.”

Shane pushed the door open, and invited him into his place.

The door lead to a lounge larger than the Colburn ballroom; to his left, there was the biggest monster of a TV he'd ever seen, on a wall in front of a damn amazing sofa, and to his right, a collection of CD which took over the entire wall. If it hadn’t been tidy – in fact, pristine – it would have been the ultimate bachelor pad. 

The only mess was in the center of the vast space. A woman sat on a white Persian rug, nose buried in a book, a bowl of chips next to her, and surrounded by an impressive collection of phones and laptops.

She lifted her head and saluted towards him.

“That's Brooke,” Shane sighed, attempting to aim for exasperated, but Colt saw something familiar in his eyes, and it sure as hell wasn’t indifference. “Ignore her if you can.”

The girl flipped him the bird without looking up from her book.

“Her brother and I are business associate; he lives here while his home is getting refurbished. Brooke also believes she lives here, apparently.”

It was obvious that Shane liked that girl, although he attempted to sound and look as annoyed as possible.

If he hadn't? He wouldn't have bothered with anything past the compulsory introduction.

Colt felt for him. His business associate’s sister? Ouch. There was a huge punch coming his way.

Not that he could blame him: the girl was good-looking. Not flashy – she wore no make up, a geeky top and some long shorts – but the crazy light brown curls and the long lashes were remarkable.

Colt followed Shane to his study, and couldn't help himself:

“I hope your associate doesn't have a way to kick you out of your business ventures.”

Shane laughed, pointing toward a bean bag.

Apparently, he didn't do chairs.

“That's not going to happen,” he said, not bothering to pretend he didn't know what he was referring to. “Brooke’s a brat. And she doesn't see me as anything other than another brother to torture, thank fuck. I don't do relationships.”

Colt rose an eyebrow.
I don’t do relationships
was one of those things men said to save face. Ok, they generally meant it between age fifteen and twenty-five, thirty max; but later on, it just translated to
I haven’t found a decent girl willing to stick by me, but don’t feel too sorry for me, I'm coping.

“I mean it. I had a wife. She taught me everything I need to know about women. I'm not doing it again.”

“Well, I'd very much like to do
it
,” Colt replied, air quoting the last word. “But I need to know what I'm walking into. Alice will be difficult, but what about the rest of the family?”

“Dad will give you the look; he might even take you sparing at his boxing club if you give him the chance… Don’t, by the way. Or put Alice’s name on your life insurance before you go.”

Good to know.

“But mum knows Alice. She took one flaw and ran away with it, because she's scared. Mum will help you. And she'll make brownies.”

Colt found a lot of humor in the fact that his family had Alice’s back, while hers seemed to steer toward him; they probably were exasperated with them both, because those closest to them knew just how damn perfect they were for each other.

He certainly did.

“Why did she shut me out like that, Shane? Not after I made her question us, she was pushing me away from day one. When we started it, she said she just wanted… You know.”

His dick. He wasn't saying it out loud in front of her brother, though.

“That, my friend, is going back to my dear ex-wife. You know a few of Alice’s boyfriends have been unfaithful? Well, the last one broke a new record. He screwed around with his secretary, who also happened to be my wife, at the time. She got pregnant, and went to tell Alice, first. Then, she was so good as to inform me that the child I'd been fucking delighted about for five months wasn't mine.”

Well, that explained so much – including why Alice had insisted on the paternity test.

“Alice wasn't overly open before, but that messed her up. I'm not sure she's actually had any relationship at any point between him and you – and that asshole fucked us all up over three years ago.”

“He needs to have his ass kicked.”

Shane broke into a huge grin.

“You got him, didn't you?”

He shrugged and shook his head, but there was still something smug in his expression.

“I don't hit people. They can sue you, and other unpleasantness. I prefer not to leave any trace.”

That sounded interesting.

“Please do tell?”

Shane pointed towards the open door.

“Brooke. She might seem harmless, but believe me, she’s anything but, if you give her a computer, a cellphone… Hell, I’m sure she’d make some damage with a gameboy, given half a chance. I asked her to get revenge when I was drunk; I didn’t think she would – she was pretty damn plastered, too… but she got in his account and wiped it clean; no trace. There’s an animal shelter somewhere which got a huge anonymous boost all of the sudden. Fiona wasn’t into him because of his pretty face. She liked me, but all my money was going into my business, rather than her shoe addiction; he paid for everything she wanted, until he couldn’t. She dumped him when she realized he was broke, and she tried to come back to me.”

Colt learnt a lot of lessons, one of them being, do not, under any circumstances, underestimate anyone who has a cute geeky girl with Hogwarts T-Shirts on their speed-dial.

He spent an hour at Shane’s; he was easy to talk to, and could relate to – or explain – a lot of what happened in his brain.

When he made it out of the flat, Brooke was doing some hoola-hooping, rolling her hips at the sound of some club music.

He caught Shane glancing down towards the hips, and cursing. It took him a while to look away.

Colt chuckled; the girl knew what she was doing.

He hoped that story would resolve itself while he was still in town; as it wasn't his drama, it was going to be fun to watch.

Chapter 8:

Alice smiled and nodded, wishing there was a wall she could hit her skull against.

Her mother was swiftly and surely driving her over the edge of madness. She loved Mara with everything she had, but she was another well-meaning order away from strangling her.

Mara had forced her to eat and when the food had traveled right back up her throat, she'd given her a disgusting herbal tea. She'd thrown that up, too. Alice had asked for crackers for lunch – the only thing her stomach could hold.

But apparently, Mara had run out of crackers so she'd made her curry, which admittedly
was
her favorite food. When she wasn’t freaking pregnant!

She'd thrown up so much over the last couple of days every inch of the pathway from her stomach to her mouth hurt. Why the hell had she believed coming here was a good idea?

She ran to the door in the middle of another Mara rant when the bell rang, and her mouth opened in wonder at what she found there.

Colt. Colt was here.

God, had he always been that goddamn gorgeous, or was there something about the light that made his hair shiner, his eyes greener, his shoulder bulkier…

Her brain processed that information at the speed of light when Mara’s voice resounded:

“Honey? Who’s here?”

Escape. Escape was here, and Mara was not taking it away.

Alice hurried outside – never mind her slippers and PJs – grabbing Colt’s hand on her way.

She made a bee-line to the rental BMW parked in front of the house, and jumped in the passenger seat.

“Get me out of here and my soul is yours.”

He laughed, while turning the key in the ignition.

“Where to, princess?”

She considered it for a while; not because she didn't know where she wanted to go, but because it sounded dumb, and would make her feel even more immature than she'd recently come to realize she was.

But she looked in his eyes and there was no accusation there, no judgement, just the curious sense of appreciation she always felt next to him.

“Can I borrow a fifty?”

He outright laughed at that.

“No, baby mama. You can never borrow anything from me. Ask and it shall be given.”

Oh. Ok, then.

“I need shoes, and maybe jeans. Then, you can take me home.”

•

She fell asleep ten minutes into the six hour journey back to Los Angeles, and didn't even twitch when he carried her up to his flat.

Home.

She could have meant anything by that, so he took full advantage of the miscommunication.

Having her at his place felt pretty damn fantastic, although she wasn't actually conscious.

When he'd stopped for petrol, he'd sent a text to Shane, with whom he'd thankfully exchanged contact details, to let him know he was taking Alice back.

Quick work, bro. Word of advice, though: go to Vegas and mum will kill you.

He could imagine that.

That message prompted a third stop, once he was back in town; he made it as quick as possible, but it was necessary.

Alice didn’t wake up until the morning.

He'd installed her in the spare bedroom out of respect, but concern had made him abandon his own bed and stay next to her.

He also called Clark, the family doctor, who popped by around one.

“She's slightly underweight,” he said, “and the blood pressure isn't optimal, but there's no emergency. Call when she wakes up, I'll make sure Suzanne sees her this week.”

Colt went to bed partially reassured, although he couldn't quite bring himself to return to his bedroom.

Sometime during the night, Alice had curled up against him, and he woke up firmly held in her arms.

They were stronger than they looked. He reluctantly detached himself when he needed to get up and take a leak; when he came back, she was sitting up on her bed, visibly bewildered.

Some of her confusion faded as she took him in.

“Hey,” he said from the doorframe.

Colt stayed where he was, unsure of her reaction if he walked closer – particularly since he was just wearing boxers.

“Hey back. I really can't remember yesterday. You came and took me back, but the details are fuzzy.”

“You slept the whole time, lazy pants.”

Worry was obvious on her face; well, now he
had
to be close to her and comfort her.

He walked in, making for the other side of the bed, where he'd slept; to ensure she wasn’t taking offense, he hid under the cover.

Colt managed to prevent himself from doing a fist-pump when she joined him there.

“I was worried, so our family doctor came in. He didn't do any of the exams you need though – you were passed out, so you couldn't give your consent. And I have no right to.”

That part really, really pissed him off. Her wellbeing was completely outside of the realm of things he could control.

“Did he find anything wrong with me?”

“Not much, just your blood pressure. His wife is the best OB/GYN in LA, and she'll see you as soon as possible, though.”

The wrinkle of worry between her brows was getting to him.

Colt reached out under the covers, and pulled her forward, clasping her slight frame to his.

“You'll be ok, princess.”

“I can't eat,” she confessed, her voice barely there. “I throw everything up. I'm starving all the time, but I just can't hold anything down and it hurts when I vomit.”

He held on to her harder.

“I've read that a lot of that happens at the beginning. You'll be ok, princess. You and our little girl there.”

“Little girl, hmm?”

Colt shrugged. He didn't care either way, but yeah, if he could pick, he'd want a girl as cute as Alice.

“Alice, I need to speak to you. Last night, you might really have needed help; you’re OK, but you might not have been. I don't want it to happen again, when I’m not around. Regardless, we’re having a child…”

He knew before he felt her shake her head that he was screwing it up. If anything,
you’re ill, let's get hitched,
was even worse than
we’re having a kid, maybe we should get married while we're at it,
and he'd somehow condensed both.

He shut his mouth at her unspoken response, not bothering to formulate the question she was expecting.

Not this time. He knew when he needed to drop the flag and regroup.

After a while, Colt tried another angle.

“Hear me out,” he said, pretending he had
so
not been about to propose. “You’re not well and Emma and Lucy have their jobs to think about. I’d like you to move here, that’s all. I’ll change my work pattern around to ensure I can do most of what I need to work on at home. I have no intention to cage you in like a prisoner, but if someone needs to call an ambulance, I’ll be there.”

•

Hyperemesis gravidarum. It might sound like a Harry Potter spell, but it wasn't nearly as glamorous.

That meant, in short, that she threw up a lot and could consequently feel faint and dehydrated.

She was asked to stick to the dry and bland food she'd begged for – crackers were a must – and loads of water.

The doctor also prescribed some medicine, and afterwards, they got to the fun part.

“Oh, here we are,” Suzanne said, smiling. “Two heart beats.”

Alice was instantly worried; why the hell did her baby have two hearts? But Colt caught up quicker.

“Twins?”

Shit. There was going to be two human beings coming out of her in the middle of September.

Colt’s hand squeezed hers harder, and she breathed out. They'll be fine.

“When can we see them?”

“Eight weeks is a little early for an ultrasound, but we can set one up for our next appointment, in four weeks. In the meantime, Alice, I will give you my personal phone number. Both Gia and Harry are friends of ours, so any problem, at any time, I want you to call. Understood?”

She nodded, and they were off, hand in hand.

Alice glanced down towards their intertwined fingers and tried to clench the panic sizing her. Again. She'd felt the same thing earlier that morning, when she’d believed he’d been about to propose.

Of course, he hadn’t been. When she realized that, she was mortified, because
hello,
this was Colton Colburn.

At the same time, she’d felt a pang, wishing he had popped the question.

She would have answered no, without a doubt, though.

What was wrong with her?

“Princess, I swear I'll make it up to you, but there's something we can't avoid any longer. However, you heard doctor’s orders: no stress, so one word and I'm getting you out of there.”

Alice just smiled, knowing full well he was the one stressed out at the idea; they were on their way to see his parents.