Jen Frederick's Blog, page 7

Lainey’s List Chapter 17

Lainey

Dinner with Chip is just as excruciating as I suspected it would be. He takes every opportunity to get in a dig. Some of them Charlie catches and some, related to Chip’s and my tangled past, go over her head. I’m grateful for that. I wish they were all so obscure that only I understood them.

When he compliments Charlie on how great she looks, he makes sure to emphasize her great taste in clothes. My style has evolved from leopard prints and sequins to cream-colored swing skirts, to cover my ample hips, and belted cardigans, to emphasis my small waist. But at seventeen, when Chip and I met, my clothes were either appropriate for church or the corner of the street.

“Charlotte, you’re all class.”

She gives him a thin, social smile. “Thanks.”

She doesn’t give him more encouragement but Chip, being Chip, can’t stop sucking up to her. She’s everything he imagines he should have by his side. Charlie isn’t just pretty. Pretty girls are a dime a dozen around guys like Chip. No, Charlie is like Reece’s thoroughbreds. One look at her and you know she’s expensive.

And Chip wants that. Oh, he might dabble in the gutter with girls like me, but Charlie’s the type he wants to be photographed with. When he dumped me, he said he could take me out of the trailer park but cheap would always remain visible.

I run a self-conscious hand over my skirt. I look good today. Professional even. Screw Chip.

We sit down to dinner and Chip starts up again as we’re passing the tortillas around. He observes Cassidy with all the warmth of a long-suffering chaperone on a field trip.

“The child is surprisingly well mannered,” he comments, as she thanks Nick for putting beans on her plate. “All things considering.”

Nick shoots him a fairly hostile look. “Considering what, man?”

“Lainey’s a single mom. Statistically, kids from single parent households struggle.” Chip taps his fork on the table. “But this one—” he dips his head toward my angel—“appears to have learned a few things.”

I hate that he talks about her like she’s not there. It’s made worse by the fact he won’t even say her name. I place a protective hand on the top of her head and glare at him. He hasn’t ever acknowledged Cassidy or me and never will. I don’t care. It is far better for Cassidy to have no father than one who despises her.

And who can’t be bothered to hide his disgust.

He turns to Charlie again. “It’s good of you to lend a helping hand. I’ve always thought you had a generous spirit.”

Charlie is barely able to keep a straight face. “It’s the other way around; Lainey’s always helping me. If I didn’t have her around, my slip would be showing and I’d constantly have lipstick on my teeth.”

“If you could find your lipstick,” Nick jokes.

The three of us share a smile at Charlie’s forgetfulness. She’s just got so much going on that the little things escape her, which is what she has me for.

Chip doesn’t like being left out. He places his elbows on the table and leans toward Charlie while Nick looks on with faint amusement. We both know that even if the guy at the table weren’t Chip, the asshole, Charlie would be immune. She loves one person and one person only, no matter how many times she wants to deny it.

“I’m a big fan of kids myself,” Chip croons.

I choke on my mouthful of fajita.

“You okay, Mommy?” Cassidy asks, as I cough and cover my mouth with a napkin. My eyes begin to water, but Chip doesn’t even look my way. His attention is wholly fixed on Charlie.

“I like children,” she says slowly, as if she can’t quit figure out his angle.

“How many kids would you want?”

“I don’t know. I suppose that depends upon my partner.”

“I always felt like two is a good number.”

“Not me,” Nick interrupts. “I think I’d like to have about five. Philip Rivers has eight.”

“Who’s that?” Cassidy asks.

Chip sighs heavily. Clearly his two children would be seen but not heard.

“Used to be a quarterback like me, honey,” Nick says and rolls up her little fajita for her.

I reach to tap her glass to remind her to drink her milk. She has the same idea and our hands collide. Mine pushes hers awkwardly and her glass of milk spills, splashing on Chip’s plate.

“Oh no,” she cries.

I jump up and bump the table, which knocks the entire bowl of fajita filling into Chip’s lap.

“God dammit you—“

Nick cuts him off with a sharp warning. “Chip!”

Chip jerks his head up and swallows whatever spiteful, mean thing he was going to say. But he’s fuming.  He brushes at his pants front which is now doused with food and meat sauce.

“What’s a five year-old doing with a regular glass? Don’t you have spillproof crap?”

“Come on. I have a pair of sweatpants you can change into.” Nick jerks his head towards his bedroom.

For a moment, Chip wavers between bitching me out and following Nick. Charlie jumps in.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says. She tugs on his arm and between her and Nick, the two lead Chip away.

“I’m sorry,” Cassidy weeps. Her little face is scrunched up in dismay.

I wipe her tears away with the side of my sleeve. “It’s no big deal, baby.”

She presses her baby face into my belly and mumbles, “I don’t think he’s very nice.”

That’s putting it mildly. “Can you go and put your stuff in mama’s bag?”

“We leaving?” she sniffles.

“Yeah, but we’re going to stop at McDonald’s on the way home. ‘Kay?”

The promise of fast food and a treat brighten her mood. I wish that’s all it took for me to forget Chip. Unfortunately, this encounter is going to bother me all night. That asshole. I can’t believe I allowed myself to be sucked in by him. As much as I hate the man, I can’t regret the past because I’d battle a thousand Chips to have Cassidy.

I wanted Cassidy’s dad to be someone else, but that he’s not? Well, that’s on me.

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 17 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter 16

Nick

 

“Don’t use blue,” Cassidy instructs as I start to color in leaf. “Leaves aren’t blue.”

“You sure?”

She gives me a look I know she picked up from her mother. One that says I should know better or, in Cassidy speak, duh. I drop my blue crayon and pick up an orange one. “How about this?” I propose. “Leaves turn orange and red in the fall.”

She ponders this seriously for a minute, as if trying to figure out if I’m pulling one over on her. Finally, she nods her head. “Okay, but not blue.”

“No blue leaves. Promise.”

“And stay inside the lines,” she reminds me, before bending down to apply herself with careful precision to the flower petals on the coloring book.

I can’t help seeking out Lainey’s eyes to share how precious I find this little one, but she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are fixed on the back of Cassidy’s head. The look of pure, motherly love I see on her face causes my chest to tighten. Lainey runs a hand down Cassidy’s shiny, dark hair until it stops, right above the arm I have flung across the back of Cassidy’s chair.

I hold my breath, waiting for her to drop that hand a mere inch until we’re touching. Cassidy’s head is bent. Charlie’s puttering with something on the counter, her back turned. Do it. Do —.

The intercom rings, and Lainey jerks away. Crap. Perfect timing, Chip. Not. His shitty timing was one of the reasons he never came back to the field after his injury. I allow myself two seconds to enjoy the unspoken insult and then slap my skull.

“Why’d you hit yourself?” Cassidy chirps, her little head tilted to the side.

“Because I was being dumb in my head, and if I don’t give myself a head slap now and then, the dumb stuff comes out of my mouth.” I open my mouth wide.

Cassidy peers in and giggles. “You have a big mouth, Uncle Nick.”

“All the better to eat you with.” I pretend to devour her while she screams with delight.

Charlie shoots a guilty glance toward Lainey. “Will you get that Nick?”

No, I think, because my arm is still warm from the almost touch of Lainey’s hand, and I want to enjoy it for two seconds more. But that thought, like the crappy one I had five seconds ago about Chip, is better kept in my head. “Sure.” I push away from the table, and the still giggling Cassidy, to go and let Chip in.

Behind me, I hear whispering. “—sorry, Chip is coming over.”

“Ugh, really?”

“I know.”

“You should have told me before.”

“But I wanted to see you, and you wouldn’t have come over if I told you Chip was coming.”

I don’t even need to look at Lainey to know what kind of silent, disapproving expression is on her face now. It’s not the duh one, but a mom face. A face you learn when you give birth. My mom has directed it toward me a hundred plus times in my life.

Charlie quickly apologizes. “Okay, I should’ve told you before, but we’ll get rid of him. Please stay. We’re having fajitas tonight.”

“I love those,” Cassidy pipes up.

“I know you do, honey.” Charlie pats her head.

Good move by Charlie there, appealing to Cassidy’s stomach. Lainey’s pretty much a pushover when it comes to Cassidy. A knock at the door signals Chip’s arrival. We all look at Lainey who throws up her hands in defeat. “We can’t leave when there are fajitas on the stove.”

“Yay!” yells Cassidy, and she begins to run around the coffee table with her hands in the air, yelling out her enjoyment. Charlie chases after her while Lainey watches.

Chip scowls as I open the door. It is loud. “Sorry. Kids,” I shrug and throw the door open for Chip to step through.

“Brought your tape, man.”

He takes a tentative step in and then another, as if the condo was just cleared of a quarantine and he doesn’t quite trust the space is safe.

“When the team told you that you need to do charitable work, they didn’t mean for you to bring it home.” Chip’s snide remark is delivered in a low voice, but the stiffening in Lainey’s shoulders tells me she heard him.

“Are you talking about Charlie?” I deliberately misunderstand him. “She pays her own way. I’m not funding this palace on my own.”

“I wasn’t referring to Charlotte,” Chip hastens to correct me. “I know she’s all class.”

Maybe Chip doesn’t realize how he’s insulting Lainey with every word, but if he’s this careless all the time, I can see why Lainey and Charlie aren’t fond of him.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, walking up to give Charlie a hug. She stares at me wide-eyed as he gathers her into his arms like they’re old friends.

I hold my hands up in confusion because I don’t know why he’s hugging her.

She pats him awkwardly on the back. “Nice to see you, Chip. You know Lainey, right?”

He barely gives Lainey a nod. “Hey, I smell something awesome. You’re beautiful, and you cook? Marry me, Charlotte.”

She shoots a glance over to Lainey who looks up to roll her eyes. She’s quieted Cassidy down and has her on the sofa looking at a picture book.

“It’s a kit I picked up from a store.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.” Chip crosses his ankles as he leans against the kitchen island.

“It’s a place that specializes in prepackaged dinners you cook at home. I thought it might be good for the single guys so they don’t have to eat out all the time.” Charlie’s reluctance to chat couldn’t be more obvious, but Chip is clueless.

“Like me. I’m single.”

Jesus, he is laying it on thick.

“Well, um, okay.”

“I’ll stay and give you a client’s viewpoint.”

It wasn’t even a request. Charlie’s eyes dart toward mine in panic but what can I do? I can’t really tell him to shove off because he’s my coach and I’m a second year starter. I could lose my position to the next man up if I don’t produce on the field.

“Sounds good, Chip,” I say with false cheerfulness. I mean, really, how bad could dinner with Chip be?

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 16 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter 15

Nick

When I get home, Charlie is in the kitchen preparing a pitcher of margaritas. I look at the table set for four, the tequila and limes, with mixed feelings. I’m supposed to be shedding my attachment to Lainey and Cassidy, not fostering it.

“Honey, I’m home,” I announce. I toe off my athletic flip-flops and toss the gym bag near the front door.  Charlie shoots a disapproving gaze at my sloppiness, but if she can invite people over without telling me, I figure I can be a slob.

Speaking of surprise guests, I tell her, “By the way, Chip is stopping by.”

She pauses on her way to the table and makes a face. “Why?”

“Because he’s got some film for me to watch.”

“Can’t he email it?”

“Probably but he’s going to deliver it in person.” I pat her shoulder as I walk by on my way to the refrigerator. Inside, a Mountain Dew tempts me. I shove it aside and grab a jug of water. “Why’d I buy the soda?”

“For the same reason we have a giant container of cheese puff balls in the pantry. Because in the grocery store, you have the impulse control of a toddler.”

“Don’t insult Cassidy like that,” I joke.

Charlie grabs my arm. “I know you said that you wanted to move on, but Lainey’s my best friend and I love—“

“Cassidy like your own daughter,” I finish for her. “Same here.” A rueful smile tips the corners of my mouth up. “I couldn’t cut them out of my life, even if I wanted to.” I give Charlie’s hand a reassuring pat. “We’re all going to be friends. It’ll be fine.”

Good thing I’m not drinking the water yet or I might’ve choked on the friends label. I’ve got one female friend. Pretty sure that’s the limit for any heterosexual male.

“When is Chip coming over?”

“Dunno. Why?”

“You know Lainey and Chip don’t get along.”

“Do I know that?” I suppose I did. Whenever he came into Stacks, it seemed like Lainey disappeared to whatever side of the bar Chip was not on.

“Chip’s okay. He’s just…”

“A giant, walking, talking ego?”

“Yeah, but he was an NFL quarterback for five years.” I drink another glass of water before sticking the container back in the fridge. The green can of soda mocks me as I close the door reluctantly.

“So?” Charlie hands me plates, which I dutifully deliver to the table.

“So he’s used to a little adulation.”

She sniffs.

“Okay, he can be a jerk at times, but the guy’s got a lot going on in his life.” I’m not sure how I’d feel if I only got to play five years in the pros before being taken out by a massive injury. Resentful, jealous. I’d definitely not be in the mood to celebrate everyday. When I look at Chip, I see how easily my career could be over in an instant. So yeah, I’ve got a lot of sympathy for ol’ Chip.

“You know he hits on me all the time at the bar,” Charlie informs me.

I shoot her a confused look. “Do you want me to do something about it?”

In the past, Charlie’s always been touchy about me putting my nose where it doesn’t belong. Her dating life is her business, she says. Which is true to a certain extent. I’ve gotten fairly good at picking out which guys have potential for being decent long-term boyfriend material and heading them off before they can make a connection. It’s for the guy’s sake, really. Because as much as Charlie might want to deny it, she’s still in love with my brother, and any guy she hooks up with is always going to play second fiddle to Nate.

It’s best that I tell the lost boys to scram before she breaks their heart. She ruined a couple of my college teammates, not on purpose, just through sheer obliviousness.

“No. I’m perfectly fine telling him to go to hell but Lainey is not. If I’m not around, he’s hassling her.”

“What? Since when?” I haven’t seen any evidence of this, and I’ve been in Stacks plenty when Lainey’s been working and Chip’s come in as a customer.

“Oh, he doesn’t do it when you’re around—or many of the Mustangs for that matter. He’ll come in alone or with that jerk Kirkwood.”

Kirkwood is a third string tight end who has a perpetual scowl, likely from seeing so little playing time. He is a little bitch. I don’t like him much, but I also don’t have to spend any time with him now that I’m the starter. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was cut from the roster during the first round of trimming in August.

“I get that he’s got a big ego, but he’s been a pro quarterback for five years. You have to have a big swinging dick to play at that level. Sometimes that bleeds over into off the field stuff.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Charlie points out.

“Because I have you and Lainey telling me I’m not worth more than two grubby cents.” I’m only half joking.

Charlie gives me a ‘who cares’ shrug. “Someone’s got to do it.”

“Do the two of you have to enjoy it so much?”

The buzzer from the doorman interrupts whatever smart assed comment Charlie was going to zing back at me.

She peers into the screen. “Oh good, it’s Lainey. I’ll have time to warn her. Actually, maybe we’ll just go out for dinner while you and Chip meet.”

“What? No!”

She jerks back at the unintentional volume in my voice. I strive for a more reasonable tone. “I want to see Cassidy,” I explain.

Charlie gives me another arched look that says I’m not fooling her one bit.

Fortunately, I’m saved by the bell. Literally.

I don’t even have to work at summoning up a civil smile because Cassidy’s dressed up in her Cinderella costume, complete with her fairy godmother star wand. The girl is so danged cute.

“Uncle Nick!” she shouts as I lift her off the ground. She waves her wand and nearly pokes me in the eye.

“Hey doll face.” I give her baby soft cheek a kiss.

“I’m Cinderella.” She rubs her hand along my stubbled cheek. “You’re scratchy.”

“Didn’t know you were coming or I would’ve shaved for you.” Cassidy has made it clear on more than one occasion that she likes my face smooth. Lainey, on the other hand, has a certain appreciation for a rough cheek. I glance over the top of Cassidy’s blonde curls and see by the heat flashing in Lainey’s doe brown eyes that she’s thinking the same thing. The heat colors her cheeks, and my body tightens in response.

“Ow, Uncle Nick. You’re hugging me too tight.” Cassidy wriggles in my arms.

I force myself to turn away from Lainey. Christ, I need to get a grip. “Sorry, pumpkin. Want to show me what’s in your purse?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Mom says my purse is private.”

“Okay then.” Again, my eyes move to meet Lainey’s to share the cuteness that is this adorable kid. Her face is averted, though, trying to avoid looking at me.

Cassidy pushes at my arms again. Was I holding her too tight again? I set her down and swallow a sigh.

“Come here, baby,” Lainey says and pulls out a coloring book and pencils. “Why don’t you sit at the table while I help your Aunt Charlie with dinner.”

Cassidy obediently follows her mother’s order. She pats the seat next to her with a small but imperious hand. “Come sit and color with me.”

“Sure.” I take a seat, but it’s not long before my gaze drifts back toward Lainey and Charlie, their two heads close together whispering something. Likely about Chip coming over. My eyes linger on Lainey’s heart shaped ass, show-cased by her tight yoga pants. Every woman seems to wear them but none like Lainey. I lick my lips thinking of all the times I’ve had my mouth on those curves. It’s criminal how little control I have when it comes to Lainey. I pick up a crayon and focus on Cassidy.

“Mind if I color?”

She gives me a sweet smile and I shade in a leaf, carefully because Cassidy’s particular about coloring outside the lines.

My best defense here has to be another woman, but I’m in the middle of training camp and the season starts in two months. It’s not like I have time for that shit.

“It’s different this year, isn’t it?” It’s Lainey’s voice, soft and caring.

“Do I look tense?” I try to joke.

“A little,” she says and hands me a glass of water. A few orange slices and a couple of cranberries are now in the pitcher that I’d had in the refrigerator.

“Thanks.”

“Charlie is saying we need to do a refrigerator cleanse.”

“Did she also say I need to stay away from the grocery store?”

Amusement dances in Lainey’s eyes. “Something like that.”

“I’m going to be so fat when I retire.” I lean back and rub my belly.

Cassidy giggles and copies me. “Me too.”

“You two are so silly!” Lainey exclaims. She leans forward and kisses Cassidy on the neck. The two squeal and giggle. How do I get past these two girls? I want them to be mine so damned bad.

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 15 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

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Lainey’s List Chapter 14

 

Nick

“Fuck!” I curse in frustration as I watch our Pro-Bowl safety, Tam Fluse, snatch another ball out of the air. This interception can’t be blamed on the rookie wide receiver running the wrong route, as was the case with the first interception of the day.

“That was a pick six.” Chip, the quarterback coach, states the obvious with a little too much glee. “Do I need to remind you that you’re supposed to be throwing the ball to the offense?”

“Is that what I’m supposed to do?” I retort sarcastically. I motion for the assistant on the sidelines to toss me another ball. I palm the leather ball, squeezing it tight, shaping it in my hands. I’ve got big hands. Large enough to palm a basketball, yet this damn football has been sailing out of my hands all morning.

Every time I put a touch on the thing, it’s floating instead of falling into a receiver’s waiting hands. I replay the last throw in my head. Was I gripping the ball too tight? Were the laces on the ball misaligned?

“Rook, you keep throwing me those sweet balls,” Fluse yells from his position ten yards down the field. I sigh. Seems like Rook is going to be my nickname even though I’m the starter and this is my second year.

I flick him off before settling down behind my center, Dan Fleming.

“Told you not to ball out your first week of camp. Now everyone’s ‘specting you to MVP it every day,” Fleming admonishes over his shoulder.

“That’s helpful.” I crouch down. “Everyone’s being so goddamned helpful today. Must be why we have training camp.”

“Must be.”

He turns around, and we get into position. I yell out the call, “Blue Forty-Eight, Blue Forty-Eight, Red Hut, Five, Hut HUT.” We go on the third hut. Both lines crash into each other, and I scramble back.

To my left, I see Fluse coming in for a blitz. I yell for the fullback to block him and roll to my right. There’s a giant hand in front of me—Cooksie—but just beyond him is my favorite target. John Marshall Plant can catch anything within a six-foot radius. I throw it to him and as it leaves my hand, I know it’s a perfect pass.

The ball hits Plant right in his outstretched hands. I run downfield as he twists and skates by his defender into the end zone.

My arms go straight up. “Touchdown.”

As Fluse runs by, I yell, “The Rook giveth, and he taketh away.”

“Definitely more of those than the other thing,” Coach Zupp calls from the sidelines.

My teammates pat me on the back, and we run back into position to run another play.

This year’s camp is different than my rookie year, mostly because my teammates trust me. Last year, I was in learning mode. I was one of the fortunate quarterbacks drafted who wasn’t expected to start and win. Chip had been the quarterback at the time. He had a gun for an arm, wasn’t super accurate, but did enough to eke out more wins than losses. He only played in a couple playoffs and never won one. His saving grace was that he didn’t make a lot of mistakes and had the occasional flash of brilliance.

But when he got injured, I was forced out onto the field. Okay, not forced. I was fucking thrilled. Not that Chip was injured. No one really wants to see another guy seriously injured. That’s a sure fire way to invite the worst kind of karma in to your life.

But I’ve got my chance now. Next man up and all that. Seeing Chip stick around as part of the team, even though he’s not on the roster, has done a lot to make my transition painless. He doesn’t seem to hold an ounce of resentment toward me.

The rest of the practice goes smoothly. I don’t throw another interception, and coach is generally pleased.

We’ve got a lot of talent, but we’re young and mistake prone. In the next six weeks, we’ve got to eliminate the mistakes and capitalize on our athleticism.

“Good practice,” Chip praises as I shed my red jersey that marks me as untouchable and scrape the turf off my cleats on the metal grate just inside the door.

“Thanks. Monty and I need to work on our timing on those deep routes.” I give the equipment boy a nod of thanks as I take the Gatorade bottle full of water from him.

Chip snags one too, even though the bastard hasn’t a speck of sweat on his face. There are some benies to the coaching gig. “We’ll get some reps in tomorrow on that. I noticed that when you were dropping back, you gave a shoulder twitch before you threw the slant route. Try to get rid of those tells or the defense will be crushing both you and your receiver.”

I make a face. “Didn’t realize.”

“I’ll send you some film.”

“Thanks.”

“Or I can bring it over,” he offers.

I think about who’s home tonight. Probably Charlie, unless she’s out with Reese and/or Lainey.  Shit, Lainey. I haven’t talked to her since our fight. I wonder if she plans to kick me in the nuts. I probably deserve it. Worse? I’d probably still be hard enough to dent a soup can.

“Or not. It’s no big deal,” Chip says, and I realize I’ve been meditating on this too long.

“Nah, it’s fine. Come on over.”

“And over is where?”

I give him the address to my condo.

“You there alone?” He quirks an eyebrow up.

A trickle of sweat rolls down my spine, and I shift restlessly. What’s with the twenty questions? I want to shower and hit the road, but this is Chip and he’s been good to me, so I deal. “I live with a friend.”

“You still hooking up with that trust fund girl?”

I sigh. No guy ever seems to believe that I view Charlotte as my sister, not a bangable lass. “Never hooked up with her in the first place. She’s just a friend.”

Chip smirks and slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I got those friends too.”

“Nah man, she’s like my sister. I’m more interested in her friend,” I find myself confessing.

“Who’s that?”

“Lainey. Maybe you know her? She used to wait tables over at Stacks and now is managing it? About so high.” I raise my hand to my collarbone. “Brown hair.” Hot as sin.

He rears back. “No way. You gotta be careful, boy. She’s a pussy trap. The 18 years kind of pussy trap. Yeah, she’s got a rack that won’t quit and an ass as thick as three day old porridge, but there’s plenty of her around the facility that doesn’t come with a ton of baggage.”

I bristle in annoyance. “Lainey’s not like that. She’s hardworking—“

“Got a kid, don’t she?” Chip interrupts.

“So?”

“So, she tell you who the baby daddy is?”

“No.” Lainey is very tight-lipped about that and given that the deadbeat hasn’t once come around in the year I’ve known her and Cassidy, I can see why. “Guy’s an asshole. Total deadbeat.”

Chip rolls his eyes. “Not everyone wants to be hooked for life to a chick who pokes needles in a condom.”

I shrug out of Chip’s grasp and start toward the makeshift training camp locker room. His careless words are making my blood boil and clocking my quarterback coach isn’t the way I want to launch my first full year as starter for the Mavericks.

I settle for, “I didn’t know Lainey when she was eighteen but I highly doubt she sabotaged a guy’s condom. Raising a kid by herself hasn’t been easy.”

“Is that the line she’s selling to you? Because I wondered how she got her hooks into the trust fund babe.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree on this, ‘kay?” I ask, and I marvel at the evenness of my tone. As it is, I think I’m going to have to go to the dentist and get caps put on because if I stand here talking to Chip another minute, I’m going to grind my teeth to dust.

Chip winks and claps me on the shoulder. Again. “No problem. I’ll be over in an hour.”

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 14 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

The Woodlands Unboxed Set Release

Today is the release of The Woodlands Unboxed set. I’ve put it in Kindle Unlimited, so anyone with a KU subscription can read all four Woodlands novels for FREE!

 

Get it on Amazon here!

 

 

**USA Today Bestselling Series! This four-book box set with bonus content will be available for a limited time only.***

UNBOXED contains the following full length novels: UNDECLARED, UNSPOKEN, UNRAVELED, and UNREQUITED.

UNDECLARED

For four years, Grace Sullivan wrote to a Marine she never met, and fell in love. But when his deployment ended, so did the letters…Noah has always known exactly what he wants out of life. Success. Stability. Control. That’s why he joined the Marines and that’s why he’s fighting his way — literally — through college. Now that he’s got the rest of his life on track, he has one last conquest: Grace Sullivan. But since he was the one who stopped writing, he knows that winning her back will be his biggest battle yet.

UNSPOKEN

AnnMarie Sullivan made one mistake in her freshman year and her entire college existence became tainted by it. Guys labeled her as easy and girls shied away. To cope, AnnMarie stayed away from Central social life and away from Central men until Bo Randolph storms into her life. Bo allows instinct to rule his behavior. If it feels good, do it, has been his motto. AnnMarie is everything he didn’t realize he wanted. He knows he should walk away, but he just can’t.

UNRAVELED

Twenty-five-year-old Sgt. Gray Phillips is at a crossroads in his life: stay in the Marine Corps or get out and learn to be a civilian? He’s got forty-five days of leave to make up his mind but the people in his life aren’t making the decision any easier. His dad wants him to get out; his grandfather wants him to stay in. And his growing feelings for Sam Anderson are wreaking havoc with his heart…and his mind. He believes relationships get ruined when a Marine goes on deployment. So now he’s got an even harder decision to make: take a chance on Sam or leave love behind and give his all to the Marines.

UNREQUITED

Winter Donovan loves two things: her sister and her sister’s ex boyfriend. She’s spent her whole life doing the right thing except that one time, that night when Finn O’Malley looked hollowed out by his father’s death. Then she did something very wrong that felt terribly right. Finn can’t stop thinking about Winter and the night and he’ll do anything to make her a permanent part of his life, even if it means separating Winter from the only family she has. Their love was supposed to be unrequited but one grief stricken guy and one girl with too big of a heart results in disastrous consequences.

**Also includes the bonus epilogue for UNSPOKEN along with a preview of THE CHARLOTTE CHRONICLES—a spin off of the Woodlands series.

 

The post The Woodlands Unboxed Set Release appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter 13

Nick

 

Got time in 45? Going for a run.

The text came in a little after 6:30 in the morning. Only one person who texts this early.

I’m up, I text back to my brother.

Nathan Jackson’s a Navy SEAL, possibly the only profession that is more interesting to football players than playing football. Guys in the locker room are endlessly curious about what he does.

Pundits and players like to call football a war on the field, but none of us players really know how we would react in situations like the ones my brother has been in. A lot of those situations have been bad, and he’s changed because of it. I remind myself of that every time I look at Charlotte’s hurt face.

When Charlie got sick when we were both fifteen, she decided she was going to get all her living done—just in case. She never said that sentiment out loud, but I knew she believed it. And Nate was number one on her bucket list. Good thing for her that he’d harbored feelings for her too.

At first, it was weird for me but near death experiences have a way of fixing your perspective. If Nate was what Charlie wanted, then good for them. While my brother and best friend were consoling each other in ways that were probably too adult for them, I was finding comfort in one willing girl after another.

When Charlotte was fighting cancer and winning my brother, I figured their thing was the embodiment of that dreamy ideal poets write about and my English Lit teacher forced us to read. But in the end, we all learned that tragedy is more real, more believable. The rest of it is just fantasy fiction.

Nate’s fear drove him away. He went out to save the world in order to avoid facing the one person whose survival was the most important to him. I still love the man. He’s still my idolized older brother, but all my feelings for him are tinged with a bitter acid. As one year bleeds into the next and Charlie’s spirit grows dimmer and dimmer, there’s a part of me that resents him. And, frankly, her. If they’d fix everything between them, we’d all be a family again.

Instead, they pretend they don’t want each other; even though the mere mention of a man in Charlie’s life makes Nate crazy, and the idea of a woman in Nate’s bed sends Charlie into a weeklong depression. Whatever they feel for each, I don’t really want.

But I’m not cut out for a constantly revolving bedroom door. I’m the starting quarterback now. I have to be responsible. I’ve got to lead this team of alpha males who make more money than half the population put together. They’re all hard-headed with huge egos, even the quiet ones.

The most centered guys in the locker room are the ones with long-time girlfriends or wives. I need that in my life—not this whacked out thing I’ve got going on with Lainey. I need a solid woman in my corner, someone who’ll be there for me every night when I get home instead of someone who’s running off at the first sign of—

Ring! Ring!

Oh thank Christ. My life was turning into a Dr. Phil episode in my head. I roll over in my bed and pick up the phone.

“You just get in?” I ask. The sun’s not even up in San Diego right now.

“About four hours ago,” he admits. Fuck, it’s good to hear his voice.

“I’d be sleeping for a week if I just got in after a six week vacation like yours.” I kick the covers off and scratch my stomach. I didn’t realize how tense I was. But that’s how the entire family is for weeks at a time when he drops all communication because he’s on a mission.

He grunts. “I slept on the ‘copter ride in.”

Nate says one of the skills he learned is to sleep on command, but I doubt you get any real rest in a noisy helicopter. I’ve been in one of those transport birds and it doesn’t even have a real seat.

“That’s a solid five minutes you got in then?”

There’s a strangled sound on the other end of the line that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.  “Yeah, a whole five minutes. I’ll sleep later today. I wanted to check in and see how training camp’s going. You excited this year?”

“Was excited last year. Now I’m a mix of fear and adrenaline.”

“That shit keeps you alive. I saw on your schedule that you play San Diego in October. The family coming in for that?”

Meaning, is Charlotte coming? “Probably the parents. Charlie’s business is keeping her busy.”

“Yeah?”

He wants me to fill in the blanks. Stupid bastard. If he’d just pull his head out of his ass…

“Yeah.” I change the subject because I’m tired of serving as Nate’s intermediary. He’s a grown-ass man and can talk to her if he wants. “I’m assuming you’re not injured.”

“No, not a scratch on me. And you?”

“Completely and disgustingly healthy. Did I tell you Hart retired?”

“Didn’t want to play backup, huh?”

“Guess that’s right. They told him he could return as a backup or they could trade him. He didn’t like either of those options. I went to the front office and asked if he could be my coach.” Chip Hart was the quarterback for the Mavericks for five years. He never had better than a 9 and 7 record. When he got injured, I stepped in and led us to the playoffs. We lost in the first round, but it was the first taste of post-season play the Mavericks had had in three decades. Chip was out, and I was in.

He’s been stinking good about it, though, trying to help me. When no good offers came through, he asked if I’d put in a good word for him, so I did.

“He’s a good guy then?”

I laugh. Chip’s an asshole, but then, so is everyone in the locker room, including me, to some extent. “He’s a smart quarterback, and I think I can learn a lot from him.”

“I’m reading that you have a good chance this year to make the playoffs.”

“I’ll be happy if we end up eight and eight.”

“No, you won’t.”

I pause a beat and then agree because if I can’t get this team into the playoffs again, I don’t deserve to be behind center. “You’re right. I want to win it all.”

I want to have it all. The SuperBowl, the smiling wife, and the dark-haired little snots that will grow up loving football like me.

And I’m going to have it all, too. Just have to figure out how.

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 13 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter 12

Lainey

“What happened last night?” Charlie asks the minute I walk into the bar.

I press my lips together. Nick has a big mouth. I pretend I don’t hear her and continue to the back of the bar where the staff room is located. When Charlie took over, she combined a storage closet with the office where the lecherous previous owner sat so the employees could have a decent place to take a break.

“Well?” she prods.

“It’s too early for an interrogation,” I reply. I pluck my phone out of the front pocket of my purse before stowing the purse away in one of the cubbies. With a twist of my wrist, I lock the cabinet and turn to face a dogged Charlie. I sigh, knowing she’ll follow me around all day if I don’t give her some kind of answer. “You know us. We’re oil and water.”

Charlie doesn’t buy this. She’s known us both too long. “It’s nice when two people can set aside their differences long enough to have sex on the couch,” she mocks.

I make a face and grab an apron from the wall. How can I explain this to Charlie when it’s hard for me to work out in my own head? “He’s too young.”

“You’re nearly the same age as he is!” she scoffs.

“But I have a kid. I’ve been a grown up since I was 18. I need someone who’s ready to settle down and commit to me. And we both know pro athletes are the worst at keeping their dicks in their pants. I’ve already had my heart broken by a Mustang’s quarterback. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and I don’t even deserve box wine.”

Charlie pats me on the back. “You’ll always get wine from me, no matter how many bad choices you make.”

“Gee, thanks babe,” I say wryly. But I give her a hug anyway because it was a nice thought.

She returns my embrace with one of her own but doesn’t give up. “People can be ready to settle down young,” she says.

I let her go with a sigh and walk out of the break room toward the bar. The doors open in thirty minutes. I wave hello to our fry cook and give a nod to the waitress that’s shown up. Bars have notoriously bad employees and despite Charlie’s management, ours is no different. The types of people who sleep until one in the afternoon and sling drinks for a living aren’t always the most responsible. Nor do they work here long.

Behind the bar, I start doing inventory. Charlie tags along even though I know she has far better things to do.

“Nick is at prime oat sowing age; not to mention, he has so much opportunity. He’ll be ripe when he retires. If I wanted an athlete, which I don’t, I’d go for one who only has a few years left on his contract and is already transitioning from the field to something else,” I try to explain. “I do want to settle down, but Nick’s not for me.” I use a firm tone and, this time, she lets it go.

“What about the trainer?” She climbs up on a stool and spreads out her planner. By the color of her folder and the logo she’s doodled on the front, she’s working on a basketball player who just got traded.

“No because I do not want to be encouraged to spend just ten minutes a day in the gym to whip my body into shape.” I barely manage to keep from rolling my eyes at the memory of that particular text.

“Do not tell me he said that to you.” She looks up from her papers with wide-eyed disbelief.

I nod. “I told him I didn’t have a showroom type body so I understood if he wanted to ghost.” I whip out my phone and show her the exact text.

She reads it out loud. “’No worries. You only need ten minutes a day in the gym with me and I’ll have you ready for bikini weather.’ Bikini weather? That’s like nine months away.”

I snort. “Read my reply.”

“I plan to eat my way into a winter coma but thanks for the offer.” She grins and hands me back the phone.

I tuck it away. “I think he’s trolling for new clients, not hookups.”

“Maybe it’s both.”

“It could be but I’m not dating a guy who wants to whip me into shape.”

“Just whip you?” She sticks her tongue out and waggles it in the most disgusting way possible.

We dissolve into cackles, which is how Reese finds us. Reese is an old school Texan. His family can trace its roots back to the Alamo or something like that. I know he’s a big deal because there are no doors in this posh town that are closed to him. His last name opens more doors than the President’s.

His body is chiseled from stone and his face is pretty enough to grace magazine covers—which he has occasionally. I’d have married Reese the first time he jokingly asked but he plays on the other team, much to the regret of the majority of the female population.

“Are y’all having a party without me?”

“Yes, a pity party.” I throw a bar towel which he deftly catches, folds, and slaps on the counter

“Show him the text.”

Obediently I slide my phone down the bar. Reese reads it, his eyebrows shooting into his forehead. “Girl, this is ridiculous. Please tell me you aren’t doing him. He’s not worth your sweat.”

“Am I stupid?”

Reese’s pause is too long. I shoot him a dirty glare. “Don’t answer that.”

“I wasn’t going to say you were stupid. Only that bad sex can lead to foolish decisions.”

“I’m not having bad sex.”

“Oh?” Only one eyebrow this time. “Do tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” I turn back to the taps.

“It’s just her and Nick again,” Charlie offers by way of explanation.

“You should either try for a relationship or cut that loose. It’s holding you back,” Reese informs me.

“I know.”

“You—wait, what?” In the mirror behind the bar, I see his face fall. He was gearing up for a big old lecture.

“I know. I’m not sleeping with him anymore. It’s not good for me. We fight and then we fuck and then we both go home hating ourselves. It’s not that Nick’s a bad guy, but we want different things. I want someone more stable. Nick’s not that guy.”

“Nick said just about the same thing to me last night,” Charlie admits. All the tension she was wearing when she came in this morning eases out of her shoulders. “He was telling me that he wanted to have a serious girlfriend. He thinks it would help.”

I turn away so neither of them sees the pain flash in my eyes. Inwardly, I chastise myself. I didn’t deserve to be unhappy about Nick’s choices. We were just using each other. Neither of us wanted a relationship with each other but we couldn’t keep our hands off of one another. The situation wasn’t good—not for Nick and not for me. “Obviously, Nick doesn’t think I’m serious girlfriend material.”

“How do you do that?” Reese asks as I swipe the cloth along the dry and clean counter.

“Do what?”

“Lie to yourself so easily.” His tone is full of disappointment. I guess I don’t blame him. Nick and I’ve been playing this game with each other on and off for a year.

Our promise was that we’d stop screwing around the minute someone found a partner. All we had was sex and now the sex was making us both unhappy.

“I’m not lying to myself. I’m waking up, Reese. I know you and Charlie think Nick and I should pair up but we’ve been dancing around each other for a year. Don’t you think that’s enough time for us to decide whether we have a future together? Don’t you think that’s enough time for him to say, ‘gosh, Lainey, we’re so good together maybe we oughta see if this can be a real relationship.’”

Reese looks worried, as if this wasn’t the direction he wanted the conversation to go. “But you are perfect for each other. Nick loves Cassidy.”

“Exactly,” I respond flatly. “He loves Cassidy. But I can’t spend the rest of my life with a man who just loves my daughter. Don’t I deserve someone who loves me too?”

Charlie and Reese exchange a chagrined glance before Charlie nods emphatically, “Yes, you absolutely do.”

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 12 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter 11

Nick

“Where are Lainey and Cass?” Charlotte asks when she gets home to our lonely condo.

I contemplate lying but figured Charlie would get an earful about my behavior from Lainey tomorrow, at the latest. I wave a laconic hand from the sofa where I’m pretending to watch ESPN. “I pissed her off.”

“Oh, Nick,” Charlotte laments. She drops her purse and fifty-pound planner on the table, kicks off her shoes, and joins me in front of the television. Leaning forward, she plucks my beer bottle from the coffee table and takes a swig without even asking. I guess she needs it to deal with me. “What happened this time?”

I need it too. I snag the bottle back and drink all but the last couple of swallows before handing it back to her. There isn’t much I can say that doesn’t paint me as a complete idiot and asshole, so I settle for, “Just me doing nickthings.”

“Did you just quote your social media hashtag at me?” Charlie says in the middle of tipping the bottle toward her face. I gently give the bottom a push so she has something to do with her mouth other than ask me questions.

“No. They use my last name on social media—#NickJacksonThings—but nice of you to keep up.” I push myself off the cushion and wander into the kitchen to grab another beer. “What do you want to order tonight?” I wave the take out menus.

“Italian and bring me another beer. Or better yet, a bottle of red wine.”

“The whole bottle?” I tease and pull a bottle of Cab from the wine rack.

“I figure I’ll need it so I don’t end up massacring you with the bottle.”

“Usually I get girls drunk so I’m more attractive.” I open the bottle, pour a large glass, and deliver the wine to Charlie before she attacks me. “But now I’m doing it so I can escape the night without being bashed in the head.”

She rolls her eyes before pointing to the dish she wants. I call in the order.

When I first moved to Texas as a rookie, Charlie came with me. She didn’t have anything better to do and our parents—college friends who practically raised us as one family unit—thought I might need a helping hand.

I did. I went kind of crazy my rookie year. It wasn’t the money; I’d grown up with that. My trust fund was bigger than my salary, although, my signing bonus wasn’t anything to sneeze at.

It was the attention. I’d enjoyed it in high school and even more so in college. There’s something about the way girls look at you when you’re the quarterback—one part awe and one part unadulterated I-want-in-your-pants-so-bad lust. It’s intoxicating and I was drunk on it.

It only got better—or worse if you ask Charlie—when I was drafted in the first round, because the promise of fame and money that lured the girls in college hardened into reality when I made it to the pros.

There were women everywhere. They stayed late at the practice facility. They hung out at the bars we frequented. Hell, some of them were able to stalk me at the grocery store using the geo location of my social media posts. Charlie figured out how to turn that off but by that time, I’d gotten scared of using social media and turned those over to a public relations team to handle.

When I met Lainey, I was caught up in the life and I didn’t make a good impression. I’m still paying for it, two years later.

“I’m thinking I should get a serious girlfriend. Like… a kindergarten teacher or maybe a nanny. Aren’t athletes supposed to like nannies?”

“So your type has moved from hot blondes to women who are around small kids. Can’t imagine why you are interested in those women.” She rolls her eyes.

“What?” I ask defensively. “So I like kids. I don’t think that’s something I should be ashamed of.”

Charlie pins me with an exasperated look. “Why don’t you just ask Lainey out on a proper date instead of random acts of screwing when you think no one is around to find out?”

When I shift uncomfortably on the sofa, Charlie leaps off the cushion. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex on the sofa.”

Since I prefer not to lie to my best friend, I stare into the bottom of my beer bottle. “We had sex on the sofa.”

“And you’re talking about dating someone else? You’re so hung up on Lainey, it’s not even funny.”

“Exactly. I’m hung up on her, and she uses me to blow off steam whenever she gets the itch in her crotch.” I slam the bottle onto the coffee table in frustration. “Obviously, Lainey has something that I feel I’m missing. I think it’s Cassidy or Lainey’s mothering instinct. I keep going back to that well and drinking poisoned water. It’s not good for me.” I rub a hand across my chest. “I think it’s going to affect my game.”

Charlie’s irritation fades away, and she takes up the seat beside me. Her small body curls into mine.

“It sucks, being in love, doesn’t it?” she whispers.

I slide an arm around her thin frame, thinking about all she’s gone through and wondering which is worse—the cancer or the abandonment by my brother.

“Yeah, it really does.”

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 11 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.

Lainey’s List Chapter 10

Nick

Lainey doesn’t let me hold her for long. All too soon she’s pushing against my chest and messing with her clothes, covering up her hot body and pulling away emotionally.

“Cassidy will be getting up soon,” she offers as an excuse. Her eyes won’t meet mine as she pulls, tugs, and buttons herself up.

I lie there on the sofa with my boner sticking up in the air. Lainey ignores it and eventually, after she disappears into the bathroom, it deflates. I reach down to adjust myself and get to my feet.

I check on Cassidy but she’s still sleeping, her little head sticking out of the blanket. I like it when Cassidy and Lainey are here. It’s nice to come home from a hard day at camp or practice and have Cassidy run toward me with her little starfish hands waving excitedly in the air.

I once made the mistake of saying that Cassidy needed a daddy. Lainey and Charlie tore into me like I’d said I wanted to fuck Mother Theresa. I realized later that I’d insulted Lainey’s parenting and suggested that Lainey wasn’t enough for Cassidy. It wasn’t that. Lainey’s a great mom but Cassidy enjoys me.

Charlie let me have it again when we got back to our condo, telling me that playing Cassidy’s daddy was easy for me because I only had to watch Cassidy for an hour or two every week. I wasn’t the one sitting up with her at night when she was sick or running around making sure she was at daycare or setting up play dates.

I had all the benefits of a family and none of the hassle. Charlie isn’t wrong. Frank Harrington, the second string center, just had a baby and he arrives at camp looking like he spent all night screwing hookers at a whorehouse in Reno while drinking moonshine straight from the tap. He also smells like a weird mixture of puke and baby powder.

Yeah, I’m not sorry I’m missed out on that…am I?

Lainey comes back from the bathroom and starts buzzing around, picking up Cassidy’s stuff.

“What’s new in training camp?”

I breathe an inward sigh of relief. I can talk all day and night about the team. “Stinger hasn’t lost his weight. He came in thirty pounds heavier and claimed it was all muscle but he’s softer than Charmin.”

“It’s hard to stay hungry.”

I grunt my disagreement. One championship? We have the potential to run the table at least another year, if not more. In this day and age of free agency and the league-mandated parity, repeat championships are more rare than a four-leaf clover. Not to want it again seems inconceivable.

“Kid’s going to have to step it up at some point. He’s only got two more years on his contract.”

“The kid is two years older than you,” she reminds me. “I thought Stinger had a new girlfriend. Maybe she’s a super good cook, and Stinger is eating all her food, trying to make her happy.”

“Can’t they just fuck like normal couples?”

Lainey’s glare could sear a steak to well done.

“What?” Although, I know what she wants me to say. She thinks the quarterback should be the team daddy, making sure everyone is in their happy place mentally.

My opinion is we’re all professionals, so we should get out there and do our fucking job. And right now our job is to come into training camp fit and ready to rock it. That we won the championship last year should not matter one iota to the team.

“You need more compassion, Nick.”

“You do realize we’re paid an obscene amount of money to play one game a week, right?”

“And you work hard six days out of the week to prepare for that one day,” she reminds me. “And during the off season, you have to stay healthy and strong for the next year to come. That isn’t easy.”

“But it’s not rocket science.”  We’re never going to agree on this so I change the subject to a sure fire topic. “I’m worried about Charlie.”

“What about?” Lainey stops picking up stuff immediately and I feel a pang of guilt at making something up just to get Lainey’s mind off something I don’t want to argue about anymore.

But, truthfully, I am kind of worried about Charlotte. She seems more down these days than before.

“I think she’s still hung up on my brother. You should take her out. Play wing woman for her.”

“So get her drunk and laid?” Lainey contemplates this for a minute, staring into space.

“Pretty much.” I wonder what she’s thinking about. Even after all these years, Lainey’s still a mystery — full of womanly secrets.

“You going to watch Cassidy?”

Of course, she’s thinking about Cass. Her mind always goes there first. Which is how it should be, I tell myself. I’m just a friend…if that. The fact is, if I want to move out of this pseudo friendship we have, this part-time father position she allows me, I’m going to have to take a different angle.

“Nah, I think I’ll come along and take a look at the available field myself.” I pretend to fiddle with my buckle but really I’m gauging Lainey’s response. Maybe jealousy will get her moving better than anything else.

She pauses; a brief, almost imperceptible stoppage of motion, which I would have easily missed if I weren’t watching so closely. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Suddenly, I’m infuriated. I can still taste her in my mouth. I just came in hers and all she has to say when I bring up another woman is, “That sounds like a good idea?” What kind of bullshit is that? If she’d said the same, I’d be going ballistic. “Does it? Does it really? Do you really want me sticking my dick in someone else’s pussy? You want me going down on some club stranger?”

Lainey scowls at me. “Will you keep your voice down? Cassidy could wake up any minute.”

“You know what? I am going to go fuck someone else. Maybe she’ll appreciate me a little more.” I don’t know why I keep saying this shit. With every word, Lainey’s face grows harder, enforcing the barrier that always exists between the two of us, but I can’t stop. “There’s no shortage of hot women who are willing to go a round with me. Some of them are even excited about it. Tell their friends and shit like that. And they’ll take me on, one or two at a time. Doesn’t matter what I want, they are down to fuck.”

Lainey shoulders Cassidy’s bag of toys and playthings and brushes by me without even one comment. She heads into the guest room where Cassidy is sleeping and hauls the kid into her arms. Cass murmurs sleepily and then tucks her little face into the crook of her mom’s neck.

“You do what you want, Nick. I’m not your keeper.”

Lainey’s even voice, her lack of any kind of emotion, is like gas on the flame. If there was a point of retreat, I missed it by a mile and then some. “And you don’t care, do you?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I did.”

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter 10 appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.