by Sosie Frost
“Sorry,” he said.
He didn’t have to apologize for going shirtless. I should have expressed my gratitude instead.
“I did a little cardio after practice,” he said. “I’m trying to make sure I’m in shape. Only four weeks left before the start of the season, and…I’m not a young guy anymore.”
“You’re thirty-three.”
“There’s dog years, and then there’s running back years. I’m old as hell compared to the rest of the league. I get on the field, and I’m tempted to yell at the rookies to keep off the grass.”
“None of that matters if you feel good.” I masked the question with another glance around his apartment. “No problems on the field? Headaches? Sensitivity to light or sound?”
“Okay, Doctor Merriweather. I get the point.”
I pointed to the oversized windows framing the city of Ironfield. The penthouse faced the knotted rivers and parks which bordered downtown—a lovely view…except for the blackout curtains tucked along the side of the glass.
Jude shrugged. “I needed something to block the light after my concussion, trying to stave off the headaches. But they’re cleared up now.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. The drapes moved with me. Just needed to hang something up.”
In a completely furnished apartment, he hung garish blackout curtains. Uh-huh. It was a damn good thing I was here. I knew Jude too well. He was hiding more about his injury than he let on. At least now I could watch over him.
All of him.
Shirtless. Dripping. Smiling.
“I should give you a tour,” he said. “This place has a wonderful view.”
I followed him through the hall, studying his impressive form. I’d love six months of that view.
Jude led me to his kitchen, a gorgeous quartz-filled work of art, fully loaded with every stainless steel appliance I’d make into a mess, a walk-in pantry the size of my bedroom, and an arched eat-in patio that lead to a lovely balcony.
“Wow, this is…” I buzzed my lips. “Impressive. I worked through med school with a hot plate and a pack of Ramen noodles. I don’t know what I’ll do without a shower and toilet in the corner like in my studio apartment.”
“The architect didn’t have an eye for efficiency.”
“I can sacrifice a few creature comforts for luxury.”
“You’ll sacrifice nothing.” Jude led me through the rest of the penthouse, pointing out the rooms. “Living room, gym, study, and…” He led me to my bedroom. “Your private space. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”
I studied the bedroom, marveling at the snow-white poster bed and walk-in closet. “Wow. I wasn’t that mad at you for spilling the beans.”
“I was serious when I said I wanted to help.”
I tested the bed. The mattress didn’t immediately cave in the middle like the fifteen-year-old bundle of dust I’d been using.
“You are helping,” I said. “Now if we can just make people believe we’re a couple.”
“Won’t be a problem.” The steel flash of his eyes pinned me to the bed. “We’re looking out for each other.”
I wiggled free before the deep hum of his voice twisted me even more. “Right. We can keep each other company.”
“I’m here to help too. Whatever you need, I’ll get. Ice cream at midnight? Done. Pizza after practice, no problem.”
“Offer me a massage, and I’ll never leave.”
Jude cracked his fingers. “I do have some gifted hands.”
I didn’t doubt him, but I knew better than to let my mind wander. “Are you this nice to all your girlfriends—well, imaginary girlfriends?”
“I’m not telling you what I do with my fantasy girlfriends, that’s for damn sure.”
Didn’t matter, I was already thinking it. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“You couldn’t imagine, Doc. I’ve never had any trouble with the ladies.”
“Me either. I mean…with men.” I rolled my eyes. “Though if I’d chased after women, I wouldn’t be in this mess now.”
“Don’t tease me, Rory. I’m only mortal.”
Jude led me to the kitchen and offered a bottle of water. I took it in case my loins finally caught on fire.
“You don’t think this is going to be weird?” I asked.
Jude cracked open a Gatorade. “Maybe with someone else, but not you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re…” He shrugged. “You’re not like other women. You’re…Rory.”
Oh, good. I didn’t need that self-esteem anyway.
But he made a good point. I set the water down with a thunk.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Nothing more than reality mincing, slicing, dicing, and pureeing my dreams, but I could survive that.
“We are friends,” I said. “But what if other people know we’re friends?”
“Isn’t that the point of a relationship…besides the sex?”
“That’s just it. Sex is a huge part of any romance.”
“You thinking of sweetening our deal, Doc?”
I swallowed. Choked. “No. No, nothing like that. We just have to make people think we are sweetened.”
“What?”
“It isn’t just enough to say we’re a couple. We have to sell this. Really sell this.”
“No one’s gonna question us, Rory.”
“But we can’t let them doubt it. Not for a second. Think about the guys on the team. Jack, Lachlan, Cole. You’ve seen them with their wives, right?”
“Yeah?”
“What is it that separates their relationship from ours? Aside from the foundation of lies?”
Jude thought about it. “Chemistry? Compatibility?”
If he twisted the knife any more it’d be a corkscrew. “No. It’s believability. Jack and Leah love each other so much they’re going insane trying to make another baby. And you’ve seen Elle when Lachlan pretends to use Nicky as a football on the field. And Cole Hawthorne? He’s Piper’s teddy bear.”
“So…we do what they do?”
“No. We do it better. If this is going to work, we need to pretend that our love is the greatest love that has ever existed.”
“And you don’t think that’s…a little dramatic?”
“No one can find out about us. We have to protect this secret. We’ll create a romance no one can question. I’m talking, star-crossed. Fated. Our love has to make Romeo and Juliet look like idiot teenagers.”
Jude arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t they kill themselves?”
“That’s why we’ll be the better couple.”
“Okay, I know you’re paranoid. I get that. You’ve had a lot of attention since the apple fiasco—”
“It was a big piece of apple!”
“But we don’t need Steven Spielberg to direct this saga. Just relax. We’ll make a couple appearances together. This is going to be easy.”
I never trusted easy. My step-mother equated easy with lazy, and I’d spent years perfecting concertos, acing tests, and running on treadmills to make sure that I did everything the hard way so others perceived it as being effortless. That work ethic protected me now.
I could not lose this fellowship.
Jude surrendered with a sigh. “And what do you propose? We’re already friends. Hell, you know everything about me—favorite color, favorite movie, how we met.”
“Blue. Jurassic Park. You beat up Eric when you were in fourth grade because he broke your sister’s slap bracelet.”
“See? What are you worried about?”
“And then after our parents made you guys make-up; he gave you my slap bracelet to break in retribution.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Oh really?”
“Pleading the fifth.”
Sneaky. “Okay, so we know each other well. But people need to see us acting like a couple.”
“What do you mean?”
I squir
med. What was I getting myself into? “We have to be intimate with each other.”
Jude crossed his arms. I stared at the bulging muscles for a moment too long.
“Do you want to throw down on the fifty-yard line?” he asked. “Get a re-creation of how the baby was made?”
My dirty mind could concoct the fantasy, but my heart couldn’t take it. “We should hold hands, smart ass. Have some sort of physical contact so people don’t suspect that we met in a leper colony.”
Jude grabbed me before I could dodge, wrapped my hand in his, and tugged me to the den.
Our fingers threaded, and my heart felt like it squished between our palms. His huge hand completely enveloped mine, but he didn’t crush my fingers. Just the opposite.
He almost…caressed me.
And that was a dangerous line of thinking.
Jude led me to his man cave—darkened by the thick drapes but warmed by a lovely fireplace. A modern wet-bar framed the corner, and a top of the line television was built into the wall. Jude plunked us onto an oversized leather couch that would have been comfortable had my nerves not frayed into splinters within the thrill of his touch.
“Nothing to it.” He tossed Phillip a milk-bone in exchange for the bedroom lamp he currently used as a chew toy. “Almost like we’ve done this before.”
“We did.”
“When?”
I stared only at the television. It didn’t help. The sportscast did a recap of training camps around the league, and Jude popped up on the screen as well.
Smiling. Gorgeous.
Perfect.
“We were dared,” I said. “When we were kids. Thought we’d catch cooties or something.”
He squeezed my hand. “I think I’m safe now…unless babies are contagious.”
“Well, I certainly wasn’t sneezed on.” I shrugged. “Guess I got blessed though.”
“Don’t seem too sure about it.”
“It’s scary. You’re walking through life, everything’s planned out for the next five years or so and then—Bam. You get the sneeze. I can’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if he had…you know.”
“Used a Kleenix?”
Or a second condom. “Let’s just say there’s not many gentlemen left in the world who would offer a lady their handkerchief.”
“Good thing you have me,” Jude said. “I consider myself quite the gentleman. Care for a demonstration?”
He raised my hand to his lips.
“How continental.” My heart fluttered a bit too much. I hoped the baby could pick up the slack.
He kissed the back of my hand with a flourishing grin. “How’s that for convincing?”
He sure as hell convinced me. “Well, shucks. That’s swell. Everyone at the soda shop will think we’re going steady now.”
I giggled, but Jude hadn’t released my palm. His smile faded, and he exhaled, a masculine moment of contemplation.
“You know, Doc. You’re right.”
“It might be a fake relationship, but you already know what I like to hear.”
“We do need to be comfortable with each other.”
“I agree.”
“You should kiss me.”
I would just as soon as I grabbed the nearest defibrillator. “W—What?”
“A lot of people kiss in public,” he said.
“Yeah.” My voice wavered. “I guess we should practice kissing.”
“I don’t mean to brag...but I am pretty damn good at it.”
“Yeah?” I liked this game. A lot. “You can’t be better than me.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Proof is in the pudding.” I pointed to my belly. “Well…placenta.”
“You’re awfully confident. Game on.” He curled a finger. “Get back here, Rory.”
And this was exactly why I never gambled. Not enough to bet and entirely too much to lose.
An arm length separated us over the couch. Was I supposed to scoot over? Would he meet me halfway? Maybe we should have stood for this. The couch felt too puffy. It complicated everything and bogged us down within the leather and fluff.
Too many seconds had passed, and we were beyond awkward and shooting into uncomfortable. I sucked in a breath and pinched my eyes shut just so I wouldn’t see myself tremble.
I could do it. It was just a kiss. Just a sweet, simple kiss with the absolute man of my dreams who had no idea how obsessively, freakishly often I had imagined this very moment—
I surged forward.
So did he.
And our foreheads cracked together with a spectacular thunk.
“Damn…” Jude rubbed his head. “Don’t I get battered around enough on the field?”
Oh God. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
I held his cheeks in my hand and stared into his eyes.
He was onto me. “I’m thinking this isn’t a romantic gaze.”
“Checking your pupils.”
“My skull isn’t made of Styrofoam, Doc. I can take a head-butt…especially if it gets me this…”
He pushed forward, cradling my cheek while leaning into a sweet, tender, and amazing kiss.
The zip of shock trembled me from my fluttering lashes to my curling toes.
I froze and heated and squirmed and went limp all at the same time. The kiss ended all too quickly—little more than a peck, less than an I Do at the altar.
I was left with a quiet gasp and dizzying lungful of his earthy scent.
“There.” He was damn proud of himself. “I kissed you. See? We’ll fool anyone.”
I swallowed. “Right. That was very…convincing.”
“You think?”
I was too afraid to lick my lips in case I’d taste more of his perfect saltiness. “Yeah. That was perfect.”
He nodded. “I guess that’s good.”
“You guess? Do you think there’s something…else we should do?”
Hope wasn’t supposed to shame me, but I was crossing every finger and toe for luck.
“Nah,” he said. “That was probably enough.”
“We don’t want probably. We need absolute confidence.”
“Okay. So that was a polite kiss. Like a hello and goodbye peck. The kind you’d give me at the practice facility.”
This thrill was entirely inappropriate. “You’re right. It’s a bit safe.”
“People might expect more.”
“And we are supposed to be madly in love,” I said.
“Desperately in love.”
“And, say you were my boyfriend?” I let the delight linger. “You’d probably be all over me.”
Jude didn’t hesitate. “All the time. If a guy was lucky enough to get with you, he’d be damn proud to show you off all hot and heavy.”
Was it possible for my heart, head, and core to simultaneously implode?
“So, we should…try something a bit more passionate?” I asked.
“Yeah. Something…primal.”
I straightened on the couch, marveling at the fierce grey of his eyes. “I mean, technically, you would have gotten me pregnant. You’d be used to that sort of…” I swallowed. “Ravishment.”
“Ravishment?”
“Oh. As long as the pregnancy doesn’t repulse you, of course.”
Jude’s smile grew, but it wasn’t exactly friendly. More revealing. Dangerous. “No man in his right mind would be repulsed by that. A pregnant woman?” His voice lowered, driving my pulse hard and fast. “Between you and me, Doc, I don’t think there’s anything sexier.”
“Really?”
“Ask any real man.” Jude tugged me close. “There’s something about a lovely woman, in the prime of her life, so natural and…”
He bit his words. God, I wished it had been my neck.
I swallowed. “Pregnancy isn’t exactly glamorous.”
His gaze drifted over my body, returning only to stare at my lips. “But you look so beautiful. Soft. Feminine.”
The last time a man complimente
d me so much, I’d gotten pregnant. This time, I made an even bigger mistake.
I launched into a kiss. Jude caught me as I wrapped my arms behind his neck. I trapped him, or maybe he trapped me. It didn’t matter. I crashed against him and fell into a passionate embrace.
Jude tugged my hair, forcing me to gasp. My lips parted, and I murmured a quiet groan as his tongue flicked over mine. His touch was soft and quick, but it chilled me to goosebumps only to sear through my core. He crushed me against his chest, and I was certain in that moment, he’d know everything.
He'd feel my warmth.
He’d sense my secrets.
He’d hear it in my whispered pleasure.
The kiss exposed more of me than if I had completely stripped for him.
I clutched at Jude—the only man I had ever wanted to touch, to taste, to feel. For so long, I’d imagined this moment, never thinking it’d come to reality.
But it wasn’t fair.
Not to me. Not to him.
And not to the baby.
I ached for a man who had no idea how much he meant to me. Every flick of his tongue and nibble of his lips coiled within me. I tensed and trembled and nearly embarrassed myself with the truth. All it’d take was a whisper, and I’d reveal all of my irresponsible and dangerous feelings.
But Jude kissed me, hard and fast. His fingers tangled in my hair, and we fell back onto the couch. I wiggled on his hips, and his free hand grasped my thigh, pulling me tight against him.
We embraced as if we belonged together. As if we’d kissed this way a thousand times before.
I warmed against his hot flesh and bare chest. He had a new tattoo since I saw him last—tribal and dark. It only highlighted the subtle strength and quiet tension that rolled through his body.
Like he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
This was a mistake.
One more kiss and I’d be done. One graze of his tongue and I’d lose myself.
One touch of my body and I’d completely surrender.
But suddenly, I had all three. His hands tightened over my hips, and my moan echoed in my head. I’d begged his name, whispered as both a plea and a moment of gratitude.
This was happening. Every fantasy I’d ever dreamed and every pleasure I’d ever imagined. I panted, wetted, and gripped at him.
Too much. Too fast. Too hot.
Our weight shifted. I rested over him, and Jude tensed. He rolled us both, but our legs tangled. His hands jammed against the cushions. My head fell back.
