Swift: At least twice. I really miss you. A lot. Send me more pics?
Tiny: Not right now! I’m a wreck.
Swift: Hey…what if I bought you a ticket to come up here for a weekend? Just hang with me and Dad for a bit?
Tiny: Oh gosh, I would love to, but I’m afraid to leave Georgie. She’s really dependent on friends. The tiniest things stress her out right now. Maybe you can come down and see me?
Swift: The dr recommended a medicine for Dad that’s making him sick. I can’t. I pretty much work all day and then do laundry all night and take care of him.
Tiny: Oh no. I’m so sorry. How are you hanging in there?
Swift: Just taking it one day at a time. I miss you an insane amount though. I wish we were back on the race. I’d even happily go back to China.
Tiny: Not me! Too many heights!
Several days later
Tiny: Georgie had another bad day. It’s so frustrating. My poor sister.
Swift: Wish I could hug you right now.
Tiny: Wish you could, too.
Swift: I can’t believe it’s been a month since the race.
Tiny: Feels kind of like forever, doesn’t it?
More days later
Tiny: OMG Plate is here! He showed up on the doorstep!!
Swift: He told me he wanted to help with the renovation, and he missed hanging with Georgie, so I bought him a ticket w/some of the prize money.
Tiny: You guys are so sweet. Georgie’s so stinking happy. I haven’t seen her this happy since we got home. He’s upstairs tearing out a faucet.
Swift: So it’s okay that he’s there?
Tiny: Georgie went out to grab breakfast and I talked to him a bit. He knows she’s not ready for anything but friendship, but he’s ready to wait for her. He’s such a sweetheart. He said he can help us with electrical stuff and his dad’s a plumber, so he knows a few things. Heck, I don’t care if he trashes the place as long as Georgie keeps smiling.
Swift: He’s a good guy. He’ll do her right.
Tiny: Seeing him makes me miss you, though. A lot. How’s your dad?
Swift: I miss you, too. They changed his meds. It was making him too sick to his stomach. His drs want to do another consult.
Tiny: That’s frustrating.
Swift: What’s frustrating is that the world seems to be keeping us apart.
Tiny: I can’t leave, and you can’t either.
Swift: Something’ll change at some point. I promise.
That night
Tiny: Georgie and Plate have been playing X-box all night and laughing like fools. They’re so happy.
Tiny: I’m so stinking jealous.
Tiny: I miss you.
Swift: I miss you too, baby. I keep thinking of our last night together. I hate that we waited so long to make shit happen. I should have made you mine earlier.
Tiny: I wish you had, too…
Swift: Don’t tell me that. I miss you so fucking much already.
Chapter Forty
Just as I lifted my paint roller to the wall, the doorbell gave a sickly gurgle.
Georgie turned her head and made a face at me. “I thought we fixed that.”
“I thought we did, too.” I looked over at Plate.
“Sounds beautiful to me,” he said, slapping his roller down into the tray and getting more paint on it. “I mean, it got your attention, right?”
Georgie giggled and flicked her roller at him, spraying him with flecks of eggshell white. “You’re a terrible handyman!”
“I never said I was good! Just that I was happy to volunteer,” Plate countered, and ran his roller up the sleeve of her shirt. She squealed and I ducked out of the room before I got caught up in their paint fight.
I swear, fixing up a house with those two was like babysitting two bored children. They were having fun, though, and my sister was smiling, so I couldn’t hate. I yelled down the hall, “I’ll get it,” and then headed down the stairs, chuckling to myself. They were going to ruin the carpet in the room, but it was ugly anyhow, and Georgie’s smiles were worth it. Plate was great for her, even if he never took home repair seriously. The one thing he did take seriously? Georgie. He was always careful with her, and when she was in one of her moods, he was the only one that could bring her out of it.
He’d even gotten her to start going to therapy again. As far as I was concerned? The guy was a damn saint. He could splatter paint as much as he wanted.
I thumped down the stairs, cupping my hand under my paint roller so it wouldn’t dribble. I had to be careful not to get paint all over my skin, because I didn’t want to show up at the museum flecked with white splotches. I had a professor who had connections at the local Museum of Natural History, and he’d gotten me a volunteer position giving tours and educating visiting classes on dinosaurs and invertebrate life. It didn’t pay anything, but it soothed the nerdy side of me that wanted to talk dinosaurs, and my shyness seemed to evaporate when I was confronted by a bunch of enthusiastic kids. They loved dinosaurs as much as I did.
So, overall, things were going great in Houston. Georgie had her eye on another house or two to flip after this one, she was in therapy, Plate was here, and I had an outlet for my dino love.
The only thing I was missing was Swift. I ignored the twinge in my heart. We’d find a way to get together soon. Somehow. I couldn’t be selfish and demand that he visit me while his dad was going through such a hard time. That wouldn’t be fair. Nor did I want to leave Georgie while she was so fragile. Things were good now, but I didn’t want to change things on her and make her unstable again. And if that meant putting aside my own needs and wants for a while, I’d do so.
At least we had text messages…in theory. Except I’d texted Swift last night and he hadn’t responded back. That worried me. Was I being too pushy in my texts? Too needy? I just missed him terribly and found myself reaching for my phone constantly, hoping for a note or even a smiley-face from him.
I just didn’t want him to forget about me.
The doorbell began its sad bleating again. The person on the other side of the door was clearly holding their thumb down on the button, and I snarled as I surged forward to grab the door handle. Stupid neighborhood kids—
The man on the doorstep made my heart flip wildly. Dark, wild hair, several days of scruff on his jaw, and tired eyes. Under the collar of his old Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, I could see the tattoos that I’d pressed my mouth to that last night we’d been together.
He gave me a tired smile.
I stared, utterly shocked. He looked amazing. So wonderful. Tired, but gorgeous. And here I was splattered in paint, wearing grubby clothes, my hair twisted into two knots on my head…
Swift’s smile grew a little more forced at my silence. “Can I get a hug?”
Oh my God.
He was here.
I shrieked and flung myself against him, tossing aside my wet paint roller. My Swift was here. He’d come to visit me. I pressed my face against his neck and inhaled his scent, nearly moaning at how wonderful he smelled.
His arms went around me, and he hugged me tight. “God, I’ve missed you, Tiny.” His voice was husky and soft, so low that only I could hear it.
And it did wonderful things to me. I wanted to burst with happiness. I grabbed his face – his poor, tired face – and cupped it in my hands, kissing him with all the excited intensity I felt.
Swift groaned and his arms tightened around me then, and he responded to my kiss, his tongue flicking against mine. I clung to him and greedily accepted each stroke of his tongue, my leg dragging up against his hip. He pushed forward and then I was pressed between the doorjamb and his body, and I could feel the hard press of his erection through his jeans. Oh God, the feel of him against me made me so damn greedy for more. My hands slid under his shirt and I moaned against his mouth, never wanting the kiss to end. I rubbed against his chest, my nipples pricking through my shirt.
“Damn, yo. This is like a porno. Get you
r camera, Georgie.” Plate’s voice interrupted my next soft moan.
“Gross,” was all my twin said.
I pulled my mouth from Swift’s and glanced over. Georgie had her arms crossed in the doorway of the house, an amused expression on her face. Plate was busy fumbling with his phone, grinning like an idiot.
“Hi,” Swift told them, and then nipped at my jaw. “You guys wanna give us a moment?”
“You guys wanna come inside?” Georgie said sarcastically. “You might scare the neighbors.”
“Inside’s good,” Swift said with a chuckle, though he didn’t let go of my waist.
I didn’t want to let go of him either, but I slid my leg down from where I’d wrapped it around his hip and released his neck. I’d left paint splotches on his cheek and his shirt. I glanced around, and my paint roller was in the bushes. Whoops. I scooped it up, my face flaming red. “Come on in, Swift.”
He held his hand out to me, and I melted a little. I placed mine in his and our fingers linked, and the world immediately felt right again.
We went inside, and he glanced around the plastic-sheeting-covered living room. We hadn’t painted downstairs yet, just worked on scraping the popcorn ceilings and spackling holes. A folding table with tools and supplies sat in one corner of the living room, next to a roll of carpet we’d torn up. The place looked rough, but we were turning it around. “You guys have been busy,” Swift said, and he squeezed my hand. “It’s coming along.”
“We’re not there yet,” Georgie said, plucking my roller from my hand. I noticed for the first time that both she and Plate were covered in streaks of paint. She had an enormous smear on one cheek. “These things take time.”
“You’re doing great,” Swift assured her, and then gave me another dazzling smile. “I wish I could have been here to help.”
My eyes widened as I realized that he was here, and that meant… “Oh my God, Richard! What about your dad? Is he okay?”
“Richard?” Georgie asked.
“Juuuust call him Swift,” Plate said to her. “Trust me on that one.”
She swatted him with a roller and they started to wrestle again, like children.
“Dad’s fine,” Swift said as Georgie and Plate elbowed each other, and then Georgie started to try and paint Plate’s shirt. Again.
I gave Swift a helpless look. Georgie and Plate were being distracting when all I wanted to do was grab Swift by the ears and drag him to the floor. Or the nearest chair. Or the nearest counter.
“We’re getting behind on our painting,” Plate pointed out. He grabbed Georgie and swung her over his shoulder. “Come on, wench. Time’s a’wastin.”
“Wench?” Georgie shrieked, but her laughter trailed after them as Plate carried her up the stairs. “You are so dead for that!”
Swift and I watched them go. A moment later, the radio turned on and then I heard the sound of more shrieking laughter from Georgie. Probably another paint fight.
“They seem happy,” Swift commented.
“It’s one reason why things are slow. They’re having entirely too much fun clowning together.”
Swift grinned at me, and I melted. “I envy them.”
Yeah, I did too up until about give minutes ago. I grabbed him again and dragged him toward a folding chair in the corner of the room and led him – with kisses – until he sat down. Then I planted myself in his lap and continued to kiss him, full of longing and need. It had been so long since we’d seen each other. I couldn’t get enough.
He groaned and his hands went to my hips, pushing me down against his erection. It sent a jolt of excitement through my body, and I rocked against him. “God I missed you,” he murmured against my mouth.
“I missed you too,” I whispered between kisses. It felt as if I couldn’t get enough of him. “What about your dad?”
“He’s here.” His hand tugged at one of my braided knots, dragging it loose.
I jerked upright and glanced at the door. “He’s here?” My hand went to my shirt. Oh God, I wasn’t wearing a bra. I’d have headlights—
“Not here here,” Swift said, pulling me against him when I started to get up. “He’s in Houston with me, though.”
I studied him, worried. “What are you doing in Houston?”
“I came to see you.”
“No, I mean…I love that you’re here,” I said quickly, kissing him as if needing to punctuate just how happy I was. “But why are you and your dad here in Houston?”
He grinned and his hand slid to my butt, caressing it through my jeans. “I’ve been a little mopey since I got back from the race. Been missing you.” I melted all over again at his words.
“I’ve been missing you too.” So much.
“Dad’s noticed it, but I won’t leave his side. Not while he needs help. And anyhow, his hospital suggested that he go to a dedicated cancer center. Turns out that Houston happens to have one of the top cancer centers in the US.”
“It does?”
He nodded and nipped at my chin, his hand tugging free my other knotted braid. My hair spilled around my shoulders in a messy waterfall, and his hands buried in it a moment later. “Turns out we both wanted to go to Houston, but for different reasons. So we packed up our shit and came here.” He kissed my neck, then moved to my ear, and his husky voice tickled when he spoke. “I put a down payment on a shitty house a few streets down.”
I gasped. “You did?”
“I did. Dad needs a place to stay nearby. It’s kinda outdated and a bit of a craphole right now, but I have friends that are into fixer-uppers. I thought maybe I could convince them to help me flip it once Dad’s got the all clear.”
I drew back, staring at him in shock. “So…you’re here?”
“Really here,” he agreed, grinning.
“And you’re not leaving?”
“I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He cupped my cheek. “Was kind of wandering if we could give us a go—“
I flung my arms around him and kissed him so hard that he’d have no doubt of my answer.
Swift hugged me against him. “I take it that’s a yes?”
“That’s a thousand yesses!”
“Then…want to meet my dad?”
I smiled so broadly at him that I felt like my face would break. “I’d love to. And I love you, Swift.”
“I love you too, Tiny.” He buried his face against my chest, holding me close. “The last few weeks have been utterly unbearable. I’m there with Dad, but I’ve wanted to be here the entire time. It’s been lonely and hard…especially when Dad has his rough days.”
“I’m here for you,” I said, stroking his hair. And it was true. Whatever was coming, we’d face it together. We’d never be lonely again, either of us. And even though we’d started out on separate teams at the beginning of the race, by the end, we were together in all ways.
Some things were worth more than a million dollars.
From the Author
Thank you for reading this book! Seriously – thank you. Somewhere out there, a unicorn just farted a rainbow out of sheer happiness. And your hair sure is pretty today! Have you lost weight? No? Well, keep doing what you’re doing, because you look fabulous.
Anyhow…
If you are the type that likes to review what you’ve read, I’d love for you to leave me a review – let me know what you thought. Feedback is super important to people like me that juggle three or more series at once. We love feedback like chocolate loves peanut butter. And the more feedback I get, the more it tells me what I need to work on next. So if you want more Games books, let me know!
SIGN UP FOR JESSICA’S NEWSLETTER HERE
Need more Games?
All of the Games books are available wherever ebooks are sold!
Wicked Games (Games 1)
Playing Games (Games 2)
Ice Games (Games 3)
Bedroom Games (Games 4)
Reindeer Games (Games 4.5)
Body Games (Games 5)
/> Partner Games (Games 6)
Pleasure Games (Games 6.5)
About Jessica Clare
Jessica Clare is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who writes under three different names. As Jill Myles, she writes a little bit of everything, from sexy, comedic urban fantasy to zombie fairy tales. As Jessica Clare, she writes erotic contemporary romance.
She also has a third pen name (because why stop at two?). As Jessica Sims, she writes fun, sexy shifter paranormals. She lives in Texas with her husband, cats, and too many dust-bunnies. Jill spends her time writing, reading, writing, playing video games, and doing even more writing.
Other Titles by Jessica Clare
A Games Novel
Wicked Games
Playing Games
Ice Games
Bedroom Games
Reindeer Games
Body Games
Partner Games
Pleasure Games
Billionaire Boys Club
Stranded With A Billionaire
Beauty And The Billionaire
The Wrong Billionaire’s Bed
Once Upon A Billionaire
One Night With A Billionaire
Billionaires and Bridesmaids
The Billionaire and the Virgin
The Taming of the Billionaire
The Billionaire Takes a Bride
Bluebonnet
The Girl’s Guide to (Man)Hunting
The Billionaire of Bluebonnet
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male
Hot Summer Nights
The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild
The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet
Hitman Novel
written with Jen Frederick
Last Hit
Last Gift