Page 1 of Sweet Temptation (Love & Legacy #1)
LUCKY
W ater drips into my eyes as I run my hand through my hair, a towel wrapped around my waist and a fire burning in my left hamstring with every step I take toward my locker.
Damn , that shit hurts, but hell if I’ll admit that to anyone.
Pain is weakness, and with one more preseason game left and the starting cornerback position mine to lose, I can’t afford any weakness.
August in Philadelphia . Gotta love it.
That fucker was drafted seventh overall a few months ago. The Kings basically blew Dallas to get their hands on him first. Not because his uncles are coaches or because my family are the owners, but because he’s that good. Always has been.
Linc’s spot in the starting lineup has been locked down from day one.
I was a riskier pick. Although I prefer longer-term investment .
One that’s going to pay off this year.
Going tenth in the second round two years ago was a hit to what my mom likes to call my extremely healthy ego.
But is it really ego if you can back it up?
Not that I’ve had to back much up— yet .
I didn’t see a whole lot of playing time my first season.
More like I was brought in to learn under our five-time pro-bowler cornerback who retired at the end of last season.
I’ve had to fight for every inch of this position.
Guess it’s a good goddamned thing I’m a Beneventi.
I was born a fighter.
I stretch my leg, the lingering pain pissing me off, and eye up the goofy look on Linc’s face, not bothering to hide my groan. I’ve known him since we were kids, and that look is never good news. “What’s up, man?”
“You remember how I told you Lexie might move in with us when she got home?”
“The fuck?” My head snaps up as I pull on my shorts. “Pretty sure I’d remember you telling me your sister was moving in, asshole.”
“Well, now you know.” Linc’s grin grows as he grabs his bag. “It’s not like I can say no. We live in my grandparents’ house. We have an extra room. And you know it’s the only way my parents are letting her live on her own. Besides, it’s Lexie. Dude... everybody loves Lexie.”
That thought shouldn’t piss me off, but if Linc is a lucky fucker, I’m a complicated fucker.
Not that fucked covers how bad this situation sounds, but considering it’s my favorite verb, adverb, adjective, noun, and motherfucking pronoun, it’ll do.
And it’ll do spectacularly— because I am spectacularly fucked.
Lexie Sinclair.
My best friend’s little sister.
She’s actually older by like an hour, but she’s more than a foot shorter, so she’ll always be little Sinclair . Linc and Lochlan are twins. Lexie was born the same day as them, and their parents adopted her. The three of them may not actually have shared a womb, but you’d never know.
And they’d fucking kill me if they ever knew what my depraved brain wanted to do to her.
She was the first girl I ever firmly placed in my spank bank before I’d even touched tits in real life.
Not that I’ve touched hers. She was the first girl I wanted to touch.
To taste. To claim as my own. And the first and only girl I didn’t chase.
For so many reasons... Linc and Lochlan may be on that list, but they weren’t even at the top of the thing.
Fuck . . .
“They let her take cupcake classes in Paris. Pretty sure they’d let her get her own apartment if she wanted to.” And now I sound like a whiney bitch.
“Le Cordon Bleu is more than cupcakes, shithead. And you and Lexie always got along. What’s the big deal?”
I throw my shirt on and shoulder my bag. We didn’t get along. Not in a long goddamned time. Not that either of her brothers realized that. “No big deal. You just caught me off guard.”
Linc’s eyes narrow. He knows I’m full of shit, but he doesn’t call me out on it.
That’s always been the unwritten rule where Lexie’s concerned.
That’s the beauty of a two-decade friendship.
Your friends already know you’re an asshole, and it works because they’re assholes too.
“Good. Because I’m picking her up from the airport in an hour.”
Of course he is.
“When’s she moving in?” We walk out of the locker room, and I thank fucking God we didn’t ride in together today.
“Tomorrow...” He looks at a message on his phone before he climbs into his Jeep. “Mom wants to know if you want to come to their house for dinner.”
Do I want to see Lexie tonight after her being gone for close to a year?
Like I said . . . Spectacularly. Screwed.
“Nah, man. Tell Momma C I said hi though.” I wink and duck when he swings. “Dude, it’s not my fault your mom’s a smoke show.” I’ve always busted Linc’s balls about how hot his mom is. Mainly because it was easier than admitting his sister is even hotter.
“ L uciano,” Nonna smacks my hand with her wooden spoon and smiles. My grandmother might hate when we taste her sauce before it’s done, but she loves me enough to let me do it anyway. “It’s almost ready. Go wash up for dinner.”
I suck the sauce off my finger and grin. “Needs a little garlic, Nonna.”
Nonna’s eyes widen before she shakes her head.
She knows I love to tease her. But as I walk away, I catch her tasting the delicious fresh tomato sauce she makes this time of year, every year, to make sure I’m wrong.
I am, of course. Nonna’s sauce is always perfect.
But that makes it even more fun to tease her.
I wash my hands because I don’t feel like getting yelled at by a woman who’s lived through the Great Depression. Not really, but we all like to tease her about her age. No one actually knows how old Nonna is. Maybe she’s lived through both world wars. No one knows, but I’m not stupid enough to ask.
“Did you come to raid the fridge, or do you have laundry you need done?” My brother Rome walks into the kitchen, a beer in his hand, then grabs a piece of homemade garlic bread from the counter.
The scent of the garlic and warm fresh bread invades my brain, and my nose follows it like that cartoon skunk following his favorite scent.
“Dinner,” I admit and rip off my own piece of bread. Still piping hot. God, I love my grandmother’s cooking. “You?”
“Laundry,” Mom announces as she walks into the kitchen and moves between my brother and me.
She kisses my cheek before glaring at Rome.
Amelia Beneventi is a force of nature. She’d have to be, to be married to Dad.
Seriously, he might rule the city, but she rules our family.
Lucky for us, she does it with a little less violence and a lot more cooking.
“Roman Beneventi, do you need me to give you the number for a laundry service again?”
“What... and deprive you of the joy you get from doing my laundry?” Rome asks as he kisses the top of Ma’s head and smirks at me above her so she can’t see.
For a short woman, she gave birth to tall sons.
“I don’t do your laundry, Rome. The cleaning service does.” She smacks his hand when he tries to grab another piece of bread and shoves a stack of plates into his hands instead. “Now go set the table.”
“I wasn’t staying for dinner—” he starts but is at least smart enough to stop when she nails him to the wall with her stare. “Sure, Ma. Is it just us?”
She cups my cheek in her hand. “Are you staying for dinner or taking it home with you, Lucky?”
“He is if I am,” Rome argues.
I ham it up for Ma’s sake with a shit-eating grin. “Course I am. Now put me to work.”
“ Y ou want to come to the gym tomorrow?” Rome asks from across the table as we carb load on fresh pasta and marinara. “I could use a sparring partner. No one is around for the next few weeks.”
“Because they’re all at the beach enjoying the end of the summer,” Mom lectures. “Why don’t you try it, Roman? It might be good for you to take a break from fighting for a weekend or two.”
“Leave him alone, Snow,” Dad chides softly. “He’s a professional. He can’t just take off for the beach.”
The two of them go back and forth while I tune them out and shake my head at my brother. “Can’t. Gotta help Linc move Lexie in.”
His brows shoot all the way up to his hairline. “Lexie? Like little Sinclair, Lexie?”
“Yup.” I twirl the strands of capellini around my fork and shove it into my mouth before I say anything else.
“Damn...” he murmurs low enough not to draw any unwanted attention to our conversation. “And where is she moving? I didn’t even know she was back.”
“That makes two of us. I guess she came back today, and she’s moving in with us.” Fuck me. Rome looks like an owl, his eyes get so big. My brother, the welterweight MMA fighter, likes to gossip more than any girl I’ve ever met. I swear he gets off on it. “Linc let me know today.”
“You’re fucking screwed, man.”
“Language, Rome,” Mom snaps, and Dad smiles. She’s always tried to curb the cussing, but it’s never worked. Not when she’s got three sons who grew up cussing like sailors and one daughter who makes us all look like angels in comparison.
“Why are you screwed, Lucky?” Dad asks, ignoring the language.
“I’m not,” I protest, but my fucking brother is a douche.
“Because Lexie Sinclair is Lucky’s new roommate,” Rome announces to the table.
Dad sits back and sips his merlot. “I didn’t know she was back from Paris.”
“I’m surprised her parents let her go to Paris,” Nonna muses.
Mom looks around the table, her lips pursed, hiding a smile. “Really... am I the only one who knew she was coming back?”
“Apparently,” I grumble and stuff more pasta in my mouth. Fuck. My family has made food a love language. It’s also made me a dude who eats his fucking feelings. Real masculine and shit.
“What else are you holding out on, Snow?” Dad smirks. Mom looks like Snow White. Black hair, pale skin, tiny red lips. But that’s where the comparison ends—sweet and innocent, she’s definitely not.
She dabs the corners of her mouth with a cream linen napkin and sits back, smiling. “I hired her.”
Of course she fucking did.
Linc
Who wants to help me move Lexie in tomorrow?
Lucky
Do I get a choice?
Linc
Nope.
Ryker
Is sexy Lexie gonna wear short shorts?
Lochlan
I might not be home, but I can still find a way to kill you, if you call her that again.
Ryker
Fine. I’ll help. But if she could have a hot friend I’m not related to, it would make it way better.
Asher
I’m not related to any of her friends. What time?
Jamie
You’re not even old enough to drink. Keep dreaming.
Asher
Whatever, old man.
Jamie
Have your balls dropped yet, kid?
Asher
Asshole.
Jamie
You say asshole. I say honest.
Linc
8 a.m.?
Lucky
Dude. Some of us like to sleep.
Ryker
Some of us need coffee before we have to watch Jamie and Asher fighting all morning.
Lucky
How much stuff can she possibly have?
Lochlan
Have you seen her bed? It’s massive and solid wood. Her whole set is.
Ryker
I haven’t seen her set yet, but I’d like to.
Lochlan
Slow. Painful. Death.
Lucky
Make it 10 or I’ll be the one killing someone, dickhead.
Linc
Fine. 10 a.m. Meet at our house.
Jamie
I expect coffee and donuts.
Ryker
I expect a blow job.
Jamie
I’m gonna need more than coffee and donuts if that’s required.
Asher
And I’m the kid.
Linc
Yup.
Lochlan
Sure are.
Lucky
Always will be.