by Desiree Holt
“It’s a quiet restaurant, and the bar is quiet, too. We can talk.” And if he could talk her into dinner they’d be right there.
She nibbled on her lower lip for a moment, the sight of it sent his cock into the stratosphere and a jolt of electricity to his balls. Finally she nodded.
“All right. Seven o’clock at Jake’s After Dark. A drink. Just one drink.”
He blew out a breath. “Thank you, Sarah. I—Thank you.”
“Don’t make me regret it.” She sat down. “If I’m going to be on time, you’d better get out of here and let me get to work.”
Beau was almost afraid to leave, worried she might change her mind, which she certainly had every right to do. Finally he backed toward the door.
“I’ll see you at seven.”
She was already looking down at her desk, focused on her work again, but she nodded. “Seven o’clock.”
Beau nodded to the admin as he left the office. Every muscle in his body was knotted like a rope as he made his way out of the building. Somehow he managed to exchange pleasantries with whoever he ran into. After all, these people were paying him a bloody fortune to play ball for them. He at least owed them courtesy. It wasn’t until he was outside, in his car in the parking lot, that he actually breathed easy. He leaned back in the seat and rubbed his face, not surprised to find it covered with a fine sheen of perspiration. He’d definitely been sweating bullets in Sarah’s office.
Looking at the dashboard clock, he realized he needed to haul ass back to the house if he wanted to be on time for everything. He wanted to spend a few minutes with Toby before he showered and dressed and headed to Jake’s After Dark. He definitely did not want to be late tonight.
Should he stop and get flowers? Something? Anything?
Stop, he told himself. He hadn’t seen her for six years. He had a lot of fences to mend and he had to do it right, one step at a time. He backed the car around and headed out onto the highway, silently praying that he didn’t screw it up this time.
Chapter Three
At six thirty Sarah closed the folder on her desk, shut down her computer and sent her phone to voice mail. Time to get ready. One of the perks that came with her suite of offices as In House Counsel was a fully outfitted private bathroom. She wished she’d thought to bring a change of clothing with her today, then mentally smacked herself in the head. Slow down, she told herself. She didn’t need to shower and change from the inside out. This wasn’t a date. It was a drink. That was it. Nothing else. Still, she took time to refresh her makeup, brush her teeth and spritz herself with cologne.
She was still not fully recovered from seeing Beau again after all this time. Beau. The star of her many nights of erotic dreams. She was so proud that she’d kept it together, maintaining her cool and not letting him see how much his appearance rattled her. Usually she kept up with the sports news and she’d meant to Google everything she could find about the Tampa Bay Sharks. Chris had given her the overview and the other executives she’d met with (many of them his relatives) had provided their input. And between her whirlwind trip here for her interview, packing up her place in Chicago, finding a place to live here and the madhouse settling into her new job, she really hadn’t had the time.
Big mistake, one she’d have to remind herself not to make again. The last she’d read Beau’s contract with the New Orleans Panthers was up and he’d become a sought after free agent. She certainly hadn’t expected to see him introduced as the Sharks ’s new golden boy and for a moment there she’d thought she might faint. Fortunately she’d made it through everything without anyone being the wiser. She could thank the years of learning discipline at a large law firm for that.
But then Beau had walked into her office and she’d nearly passed out.
God, all the nights she’d dreamed about him, alternately cursing him and weaving sensual fantasies. Now, here he was and what was she supposed to do? She wondered if she’d made a huge mistake agreeing to meet him for a drink. But curiosity as much as the electric attraction was pulling her to Jake’s After Dark. She could hardly wait to hear how he explained what happened in New Orleans beyond the young and foolish line.
If she was smart she’d listen to him, let him off the hook, thank him for the drink and get the hell out of there. Of course, if she was as smart as she always thought she was, she’d never have taken Beau Perini up to her hotel room in the first place. Well, that was spilt milk she’d stopped crying over a long time ago. She was older and hopefully a lot wiser. She’d make sure she was firmly in control of the situation.
She snorted. Yeah, right.
Taking a last look in the mirror, she picked up her purse and her laptop bag, locked her office and headed down to her car. She smiled to herself as she unlocked it and climbed in. During the crazy days when she made the move to Tampa , while she was packing up her life in Chicago and putting her new life into place, she’d given in to a long held secret wish for a convertible. She hadn’t wanted to buy one when she braved the cold winters of Chicago. But the moment she walked out into warm sunshine and soft breezes of South Florida she decided what the hell. It was breakout time.
Now she realized, startled, that it gave her a sense of freedom she hadn’t had for a long time. Maybe for the past six years. She had taken her hurt and anger from New Orleans back to the law firm in Chicago and thrown herself into work. Three years ago she’d accepted a date with Kirk, another associate with the law firm. She thought how great it was that they had so much in common, could share their ideas and discuss cases. How terrific they were together.
Ha!
That all went to hell the day he was introduced as the new junior partner, the position she thought she was getting. Only she wasn’t the one newly engaged to a senior partner’s daughter. Angry at herself for having either bad taste or bad judgment where men were concerned, she left Chicago with a determination not to ever get involved with another man. At least not for a very long time.
Certainly not with Beau, the man who had disappeared from her bed like a puff of smoke. This was going to be just a drink. That’s all. They’d talk, get the air cleared and each go on their own way. She didn’t want her job with the Sharks to be clouded by an antagonistic relationship with their bright new shiny star. She could do this. Yes, she could. She pressed the remote control to turn on the radio, found a good Top 40 station and forced herself to relax. Let the breeze blow through her hair and sweep away the strain of the day.
It was the middle of the week so the parking lot at the restaurant was only halfway full. Sarah smoothed her hair, checked her makeup once more and headed inside. The interior of the restaurant was dim, creating an intimate atmosphere
The hostess smiled at her as she blinked to adjust to the change in lighting.
“Do you have a reservation?” she asked.
“No.” Sarah shook her head. “I’m meeting someone in the bar.”
“Right through that archway.” She pointed to an archway off the small foyer.
As she made her way into the other room, Sarah couldn’t help noticing the dark paneling on the walls, the soft lighting, the richly-colored tiles on the floor. She looked around for Beau and saw him rising from a booth in the corner. Of course. As cozy as possible, she thought. Well, cozy wouldn’t do him any good. All she wanted was to be able to get past this and get him out of her system.
He reached for her as she approached the booth and for a moment she wondered if he was going to kiss her. But he merely gave her hands a gentle squeeze and waited until she was seated before sliding back in. Then he sat there, staring at her so long and hard she wondered if she had a smudge on her face or something equally as distracting.
“Beau?” She finally broke the silence.
“What?” He blinked. “Oh, sorry. You’re just so beautiful I can’t take my eyes off you.”
Sarah snorted. “Please. Spare me the line.”
“It’s not a line. I mean it.” He grabbed her hands again be
fore she could move them away.
The touch of his fingers on her skin was just as electric as it had been six years ago. When she tried to pull away he tightened his hold.
“Beau, I—“
“Okay.” He released her hands, but not before brushing his thumbs across her knuckles. Then he grinned. “I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself.”
“Thank you.”
Now that she was here, now that he had touched her again, she suddenly wasn’t sure that this was such a good idea. He was older, and the maturity looked good on him. The lines around his eyes were deeper, probably from squinting into the sun, and his face had a leaner, harder look. His hair was the same streaky blonde, just a little longer now, curling at his collar. And his eyes were the same melted chocolate color, deep pools that it would be so easy to get lost in. She had to admit he looked way too appealing in his red silk sport shirt and his dark brown slacks.
Holy god, he was still Mr. Hot Stuff. And more.
But worse than that, the same sizzle of electricity that had seared them that night in New Orleans apparently hadn’t diminished over time. Electricity that could burn her again if she let it.
She probably would have embarrassed herself by staring more but fortunately the waiter came over to take their orders. Beau asked for a beer and on a whim Sarah asked for one, too. Beau lifted an eyebrow.
Sarah gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug “Just changing my choice of beverages along with the rest of my life.”
“And speaking of that, can I just say I was shocked as hell to see you at the Tampa Bay Sharks headquarters?” He rubbed his jaw. “The last I knew you were headed back to Chicago.”
“I’m surprised you even remember that much.” She had promised herself she wouldn’t do this but she couldn’t seem to keep the note of sarcasm out of her voice.
Beau leaned forward, his gaze so penetrating she felt it clear to her toes.
“You will never have any idea how much I have regretted what I did. And still do.”
“So why did you?” She’d wanted an answer to that for six long years.
He swallowed, the muscles in his throat flexing the way she remembered from that night. The way she kept remembering, even when she tried to blank her mind of every single detail.
“This is no excuse,” he began, “and I’m not trying to make it one. It’s just an explanation, even if not a very good one.”
“So let’s have it,” she urged. “I’d like to put this to rest so I can move on.”
Wait. Was that hurt that flashed in those warm chocolate eyes? Surely not.
He paused while the waiter brought their drinks. He lifted his bottle and took a deep swallow, as if giving himself courage.
“I can’t figure out a way to make myself look good,” he began so I’ll just lay it all out. I was in my third year with the Panthers, just establishing my place in the NFL. It was exciting, the thrill of playing in the big time, the—“
“The women?” she interrupted.
“Okay, yes.” He looked down. “That, too. So I was immature. I’ll cop to that.”
“And the women,” she interrupted. “Don’t forget about them.”
“Not as much as you might think.” He waved a hand. “I wasn’t a horndog like a lot of the guys, although I can’t deny I had my share.” His mouth kicked up in a semi-grin. “I was a young healthy guy, after all.”
“That doesn’t excuse your lack of manners,” she pointed out. “Or of respect for me.” She paused and took a slow sip of her beer, pleasantly surprised that she enjoyed the taste.
Can you imagine how I felt?”
“I can.” To his credit he didn’t look away from her. “And I’ve been feeling like a real shit since then.”
“Good.” She actually found herself grinning at him. “That makes me feel a little better.”
“Besides…” He looked down at the table then back up at her. “I was scared.”
“Scared?” She frowned. “Of me?”
“You bet.” He reached for one of her hands again, his touch just as electric, but this time she didn’t pull away. “I know it sounds stupid, but I was so focused on establishing myself in the game. I was afraid to find myself in a relationship that might derail me or change my focus.”
“A relationship?” She had to stop herself from screaming the word. “It was one night, for heaven’s sake.”
“But it could have been more.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, and locked his gaze with hers. “I know it could have been a whole lot more.”
“Really?” She lifted an eyebrow. “You knew that after one night?”
“Sarah, you poleaxed me. Hit me right in the center of where I live. I knew if I didn’t get the hell out of there I’d try to figure out how to make things work, even with me in New Orleans and you in Chicago. My head would be screwed up thinking about you and not about the game. I was scared a commitment would divert my focus.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Stupid, right? Anyway, I thought after the season I could try to find you and…”
“And what?” she asked. “Jump into bed with me again?”
He shook his head. “See if we could see where this thing with us went.”
Sarah took another sip of beer. “So why didn’t you?”
“Truth?”
“It better be,” she told him.
“The more I thought about what I’d done, the way I ran out, the more ashamed I got. I just couldn’t seem to work up the courage to move forward.” He squeezed her hand. “But damn it, Sarah. There hasn’t been one night of my life I haven’t regretted it.”
Now she tugged her hand away. If she wanted to get through this with her pride intact she couldn’t let him keep touching her. “You were married,” she reminded him.
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “And what a disaster that was. Another stupid mistake on my part. The less said about it the better.” He looked at her. “I’m just digging myself in deeper here, aren’t I.”
She wiggled her hand. “A little bit.” So tell me about this wife.”
“Out of the picture.” His face became a mask, his voice hard and edgy. “A mistake from day one.”
Okay, this was obviously a huge yawning pit that he kept a lid on. Her curiosity was piqued but she pushed it aside, at least for the moment,
“Don’t you have a little boy?”
She knew he did, actually. She’d taken a half hour after he left her office to Google him and dig up everything she could. She only quit because she had a deadline on the contract she was processing.
Beau’s face changed at the mention of his son. His face softened, his mouth split in a wide grin and his eyes lit up.
“Toby’s the best three-year-old in the world. And the cutest.”
“Totally unbiased,” she laughed. Then she sobered. “Do you get to spend much time with him?” She was getting a picture of a Beau very different from the one she’d carried in her mind all this time. She wasn’t sure at the moment if that was good or bad.
“He lives with me. I have sole custody.”
Wow! She hadn’t expected that. “Quite a change from the guy who was afraid of being tied down. What about his mother?”
Again his face hardened and a cold look came into his eyes. “Out of the picture. Completely.”
And don’t ask about it, was the signal. Oo-kay. Twice she’d asked and both times he’d shut her down. To say her curiosity was piqued was an understatement. Tonight, however, wasn’t the time to push it. And if they never saw each other again it wouldn’t matter diddlysquat to her.
Time for a safer topic, so she switched to football.
“Tell me how you came to be with the Sharks ,” she urged. “I knew you were a free agent but I got busy with my new job and lost track after that.”
“Wow.” He drained the rest of his beer. “I would think being part of the Tampa Bay Sharks now you’d have picked up on the chatter about it.”
As they chatted she could actually see the tension easing from his body. That must be some damn story, she thought. As they chatted she found herself relaxing. The sound of Beau’s deep, raspy voice still woke up every one of her nerve endings and vibrated deep inside her, the walls of her pussy trembling in response. As if he was unable to stop himself from touching her he idly rubbed a fingertip across the back of her hand. Actual goose bumps broke out on her arms. A tiny shiver skated the length of her spine.
Damn it! The man still had the ability to push up her thermostat and keep it there.
“So who is in the picture,” she asked.
“No one.” His eyes were like twin lasers boring into hers. “Except you.”
She shook her head. This was not how she planned for this to go. “Beau, please understand—“
“I do understand,” he broke in. “What I know is that I’ve dreamed about you every single night since I walked out of that hotel room.” His lips curved in a wry grin. “Some days I could hardly walk I was so busy kicking myself in the ass. Even getting married didn’t get you out of my head. Lacey was a very poor substitute, on so many levels.”
“But—“
He held up a hand. “I’ve been such a fucking fool, Sarah. I don’t know what else to do except throw myself at your feet, but I’m begging you for another chance. Please.”
“Oh, Beau.” She scraped at the label on her beer bottle with a fingernail. “I just don’t think—“
“Right,” he broke in. “Don’t think. We have some incredible chemistry here. You have to admit that, right? I screwed it up before but I promise I won’t do it again if you give me another chance.”
She cocked her head. Damn it, he was chipping away at her long held anger and resentment. “Is that a fact.”
“It is.” His gaze locked with her, his look so intent she couldn’t make herself look away. “Tell you what. Try something with me. Let’s pretend we’re meeting here for the first time and take it from there.” He held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Beau Perini.”
