Page 1 of Steamy Diamond
Chapter One
Ella Jarads dragged the last of her things into her new apartment, but there wasn't really much to drag in. After jumping from tech company to tech company on the East Coast with roommate after roommate, she felt like Detroit would be a good Midwest place to stay for a bit – and a good place to finally live on her own. After all, she could actually afford her own place here compared to the more expensive options out east.
It helped that the apartment she found online was fully furnished. Apparently, the previous renter had bailed on short notice, and the landlord decided to keep the furniture for the next tenant. Ella didn't really have a problem with that. The kitchen table wasn't too big and the entertainment center would fit a decent-sized television. The couch was some ugly plaid fabric so she made a mental note to get a slipcover for it. The bed was king size, which was bigger than what she was used to but looked extra comfy. She had stopped at a store yesterday to get some new sheets and pillows to make it more of her own style.
Ella wasn't going to be adding much to it other than that. Just a few boxes and suitcases along with some computer equipment. Unpacking would be a breeze.
Then she realized the suitcases wouldn't be as easy to unload as she expected. The bedroom closet at this new place was completely empty, and there was no set of drawers orbaskets or anything. Did the previous renter not have any clothes? Ella figured she could just roll her two suitcases into the closet and dig through them when she needed stuff. She added hangers to her list of things she needed.
But as she rolled the suitcases into the closet, she realized it wasn't completely empty after all. There was a large shoebox down on the floor in the corner. Ella always liked digging into a mystery -- it was partially why she listened to so many crime podcasts. A box in a closet was either a random pair of shoes or a puzzle she needed to solve.
She pulled it out and sat down on the floor, flicking the top off with one quick move. Inside looked to be mementos, probably from a past relationship. Ella knew exactly what that was like. She had some of those in a box she would be unpacking here soon.
There were several trinkets inside this box from the closet: a keychain with a car on it, a necklace with a baseball charm, a few ticket stubs from local concerts. There were also lots of pictures. A couple in a selfie that would look perfect in an Instagram feed, a man smiling in that park by the Detroit riverfront. That same man seemed to be in a few photos. At a beach somewhere. With his shirt off and his back to the camera looking out the window Ella recognized as the one for her new apartment.
Flip, flip, flip. Picture after picture of the man or the happy couple. Probably a broken relationship that one of them wanted to leave behind along with the box in the closet.
And then... she paused. There was another more revealing picture of the man, lying on a bed Ella recognized as her new bed in her new bedroom. He was wearing nothing but a pair of what looked like white baseball pants with pinstripes, unzipped low enough to give Ella a very good idea of what he was batting with. He was looking at the camera with a sultry gaze that sent a shiverdown her spine, and the zipper framed him in a way that made Ella's mouth water.
In all of her time with men who didn't linger longer than a few months, no man had ever looked at Ella like that. Whoever that woman was in the photos with him had once been very lucky, but her relationship-gone-bad was a good thing for Ella.
Ella hadn't been with a man in awhile, not that it was a big deal. It was just a dry spell that happened whenever she started to get restless and wanted to move again. But now that she had finally decided to settle down in Detroit, maybe she could have something more meaningful.
On the other hand, who cares if she was currently in a dry spell? It didn't really matter. She could handle things herself, thank you very much.
She took off her shoes and laid down on her new bed, taking another look at the picture in her hand of the man spread out exactly where she was now. Ella imagined him in this room -- her room -- with his inviting body waiting for her. His come hither look had inspired her to take matters into her own hands, her fingers finding just the right spot to make her hum in pleasure. Her mind seized on that perfect image of the man with the baseball pants encouraging her to go faster. She imagined his hands on her body, knowing exactly what to do with her, and his image finally sent her over the edge.
Chapter Two
Quinn Thatcher sat in his locker in the Detroit Sturgeons clubhouse and stared down at the screen on his phone. It had been months since he broke up with Jaclyn, or rather months since Jaclyn broke up with him. She told him it was because she had decided to go back to her husband and try to make her marriage work.
Quinn didn't even know she was married.
And then out of the blue, she texted him last month.
I'm moving back home. Come by to get your box
There was a shoebox from somewhere that somehow ended up on top of Jaclyn's dresser and had collected a few things from their relationship. Keychains and postcards, concert tickets from St. Andrew's Hall, that receipt from The Monarch Club to celebrate their six-month anniversary.
There were also pictures in there. Pictures he had printed for Jaclyn that he thought she would like. She scoffed at them instead.
Who scoffs at sexy pictures of their boyfriend?
Well, there were a lot of things that Quinn questioned now that he looked back on that relationship. The pictures that she laughed at. Her insistence that a plaid sofa was sophistication. The fact that he dated Jaclyn for ten months before she broke up with him and told him she was married.
That last one was the worst.
"Dude, are you sad about your missing cat?"
Quinn looked up to see his teammate Blake Bettinger with a dumb grin on his face. He knew exactly how this conversation was going.
"I don't have a cat. I'm not sad about my missing pussy."
Bert Parkermon laughed from his locker three spots down. "Your jokes are getting tired, Betty."
"Shut it, Bert."
Bert just shrugged it off and tossed his towel in the hamper, leaving Big Buck Bert to be butt naked in the locker room as he got dressed rather than be a part of the conversation anymore.
