“Someone’s gotta tell you how to take care of yourself. And three meals a day, enough sleep, and exercise is the proper way to keep you strong.”
“You sound like you’re in the military, what with your three squares and proper sleep and exercise talk,” she returned, slightly offended. She knew how to take care of herself. So she hadn’t slept much lately and was working all the time. Big deal. Building a business took everything out of her. She’d have time for sleep later.
“I play for the Hawks. Same diff.” He made a face when she glanced up at him. “Not really. I’m not out on the front lines defending our country against the bad guys. But it’s drilled in my head to eat properly. And you, my sweet little Miss Cavanaugh, do not eat properly. Skipping meals and shit.”
He sounded irritated with her, and as usual that riled her up. “You’re not my dad.”
“Thank Christ for that,” he said with a scowl. She smacked his arm, making him yelp. “What the hell was that for?”
“I know you hate my father so I don’t need the reminder.” Yeah, she so didn’t need to think about her dad tonight. Couldn’t even work up an ounce of pleasure at seeing big bad Nick rubbing his arm where she hit him.
“Can’t I ever catch a break with you?” Nick asked.
“Buy me clam chowder in a bread bowl and you’re forgiven,” she suggested, a little smile making her lips twitch. “Then you can’t get on me anymore about my lack of sleep and eating.”
Nick flashed her a wicked grin. “Oh, I’ll buy you that bread bowl. But I’ll also get on you before the night is through, if you know what I mean. I can guarantee that. And then you won’t be doing much sleeping, though that’ll be my fault so I’ll take full responsibility.”
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, ignoring her heated cheeks as she studied the multitude of businesses they wandered past as they pushed through the crowd. There were lots of little shops filled with knickknacks and clothing for tourists to take home and prove where they’d gone, and quite a few candy shops, including a taffy place that smelled divine and one that sold a variety of flavored popcorn.
A flash of inspiration for new cotton candy flavors came to her. She should come to these sorts of places more often. Her time was consumed with the new location and she didn’t get out much. But coming to these sorts of places with the scents and the sounds and the colors—not to mention the tastes—was the perfect starting point for new ideas.
Her stomach growled again, damn it, reminding her she needed to eat before she did something horrendously humiliating. Like faint.
“So where are you taking me?” she asked, sounding way grumpier than she felt. She blamed her empty stomach.
Nick took her hand as if he needed the connection and, entwining their fingers, gave it a gentle squeeze. His palm was large, his fingers long, and he tugged her close in a protective gesture. “The place I like to go to is up ahead on the left. I think you’ll like it.”
He stopped in front of a building that had seen better days. Yellow chipped paint, a grungy looking interior, and a walk up window where they could make their order to go greeted them. “This is the place, huh?” she asked warily, wondering if the kitchen was up to code.
“Baby, they make the best clam chowder I’ve ever tasted. Even better than the chowder I’ve had in San Francisco.” He nodded at the employee who stood behind the counter, gaping at him. “How ya doing? Two clam chowders in a bread bowl, please.”
“Aren’t you…” the employee trailed off, shaking his head. “You are, aren’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” Nick schooled his expression, his face completely neutral while the kid continued to stare.
He slowly shook his head. “Never mind. Coming right up.”
“Why did you do that?” Willow asked when the teenager moved away to serve up their chowder. She was surprised. He usually reveled in the attention.
“I don’t need all that superstar shit. Tonight is about you and me and clam chowder.” Nick smiled slowly, his gaze warm as he bent down and dropped a kiss on her lips. “You look extra pretty tonight, Will. Did I mention that already?”
He might’ve when he came to pick her up but she’d let him say it again. “You look good, too,” she said reluctantly. He always looked good. It drove her crazy.
Nick shrugged those sexy broad shoulders. “Same ol’ me. Maybe I’m just growing on you.”
Well. Wasn’t that the truth? Not that she’d ever admit it.
They grabbed their bread bowls, Nick paid, and they found a bench to sit on, eating and watching people as they passed by. The breeze off the ocean became bitingly cold, and Willow shivered beneath her thin sweater.
“I’m buying you the cheesiest sweatshirt imaginable after we finish eating,” he said, pointing his plastic spoon at her.
“No way am I wearing some neon pink sweatshirt with California emblazoned across it.” She slowly shook her head, instantly coming up with a better idea. “Maybe I’ll buy you one instead.”
“Make sure it’s purple and has a sad-faced seal on the front of it,” he said, not batting an eyelash. “Purple is my favorite color.”
“It is not.” Didn’t anything faze him? She was so on edge being with him out in public, and he acted like it was no big deal.
“Maybe you should snuggle with me under my sweatshirt instead,” he suggested, his gaze heated as he stared at her.
A giggle escaped her, and she immediately clamped her lips shut. “No way.” She shook her head, despite her skin buzzing with anticipation. That sounded like an amazing idea, but she refused to do it. She couldn’t be seen with Nick like that, surrounded by strangers. It might give him ideas.
It might give her ideas. Ideas she couldn’t begin to contemplate.
This is fake. These dates mean nothing. Don’t forget. And whatever you do, don’t let him break your heart again.
She really, really needed to remember that.
They ate and talked, sharing what happened in their worlds the last few days like a normal couple, which made her uneasy.
“Work keeping you busy?” he asked nonchalantly as he devoured his clam chowder.
“Definitely. This is one of the busiest times of year for me. During the holidays and early summer. Holiday parties or weddings and baby showers.” She went into enthusiastic detail about her schedule for the next few weeks and the new cotton candy flavors she wanted to try thanks to the inspiration she just received here at the Wharf.
That mention had put a particular sparkle in Nick’s eyes, which, of course, thrilled her.
Not that she would ever admit it.
“How do you feel about the next game? Are you ready?”
“Hell, yeah. I’m pumped. The entire team is pumped. Don’t like to go into too much detail only because we get a little superstitious.” He tore off a hunk of sourdough bread from his bowl and chewed thoughtfully. “After everything’s over, we should go on a vacation.”
She nearly swallowed her tongue. “Together?”
“Well, yeah. That’s the idea.” His gaze zeroed in on her face, turned thoughtful and aroused, all at once. “You work damn hard, woman. You deserve a break.”
“You work pretty hard yourself,” she pointed out, her skin warming with pleasure that he seemed so concerned with her wellbeing tonight.
But he was talking about a future that they really didn’t have. Why in the world would he want to go on a vacation with her when he was blackmailing her for a certain amount of dates?
Maybe because Nick actually cares about you?
Why did the idea of that both excite and scare the crap out of her?
The more they talked, the more she forgot that she was supposed to be angry with him. She laughed at all of his jokes. He dialed down the overt charm and just acted like himself—the Nick she remembered from before. All the while they scooted closer and closer to each other, until finally they were done with their dinner and she was practically sitting
on his thigh, her head nestled on his chest, his deep voice rumbling against her ear as he talked.
Realizing what she was doing, she tried to jerk out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I know you grew up with your father but you never say anything about your mom. Tell me about her,” he said, his voice soft.
She stiffened, unease making her blood run ice cold. “There’s not much to tell.”
“She’s never really been in your life, huh?” He knew this. She’d been ultra sensitive to the subject when they were together the first time around. Realizing at the age of nineteen that your mom doesn’t give a shit about you hurts. A lot.
Maybe that’s why she’d clung so hard to Nick back then…
“It’s always just been me and my dad,” she finally answered, wishing they weren’t having this conversation.
Now it was his turn to stiffen. “Yeah…Walter. So how’s he doing?”
“As overprotective as ever.” She paused, plucking at the front of his sweatshirt, horrified when she realized she was acting like the typical clingy girlfriend. She let her hand fall away from him. “He’d probably have a coronary if he saw the two of us together.”
She didn’t even want to think about what her father would do.
“I’m sure,” Nick said wryly.
They remained silent for a few minutes, Willow’s head spinning. He asked about her mom, and no one ever did that. She knew Nick was close to his mother so maybe it was just a natural thing. He probably thought the fact that she wasn’t close to her mom was pretty disappointing. Which it was.
Plus, he probably remembered how torn up she’d been at nineteen, feeling abandoned and angry at her neglectful mother.
“Talking about my mother isn’t easy because we don’t have much of a relationship,” she finally said, feeling defensive but needing to get this out. “She lives in Europe. She’s selfish and vain and only cares about the clothes she wears and if she looks young enough. She used to be a model.”
“I bet you look just like her,” he said softly, reaching out to touch her hair.
She jerked away from him. “You’re right, I do. And I hate it. I think my dad doesn’t really like the reminder either.”
“You gotta be kidding me. You’re his only child,” Nick said, looking furious in her defense.
She shouldn’t have said that about her dad. Shouldn’t have said he would freak if he knew they were together, either. It was rude—a reminder of their crappy past. How they snuck around and kept everything hidden. Yeah, she should still be pissed at Nick for forcing her to go on these dates with him, but this one…didn’t feel forced.
And that scared her.
“The restaurant at the end of the pier has the best view of the bay you’ll ever see,” he said out of nowhere.
“Really?” She glanced up at him, found him staring down at her. He looked so…serious. Too serious, and she couldn’t have that. She should be mad at him. Furious he was forcing her to pretend to be something they’re not. He just wanted in her pants again, and she let him. Stupid on her part because if she let him get even a fraction closer, he had the potential to really tear her heart out of her chest when he left.
Because he would leave. Of that she had no doubt.
“I wanna take you there,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips, lingering. “Want to check it out?”
“Sure,” she whispered, noticing the fire that lit his eyes when she agreed. She wondered what he had planned.
Despite her tumultuous emotions, she couldn’t wait to find out.
…
Tonight’s date with Willow couldn’t be more perfect if he tried. The more they talked, the more agreeable she became—until he mentioned her mother. But he could understand her defensiveness regarding that subject. It also explained a lot of her behavior.
He tried his best to coax the old Willow out—the one he fell so hard for—but she was a different woman now, one that he was definitely attracted to. Strong and so damn independent. Smarter, sexier, wittier. Fuck, this woman did a number on him. He wanted to take her back to her place, strip her naked, and kiss every inch of her smooth, beautiful skin.
But first he wanted to do something a little riskier. Have a little fun, push her limits a bit. He remembered how excited she used to get when he got a little grabby in public. They’d had sex more than once in public places their first time around. Completely insatiable, unable to keep their hands off of each other, what they’d shared had been so intense, so outrageously good…
It was still good. Hell, it was better. Thoughts of blackmail and Walter Cavanaugh and buildings for lease and fake dates…they all fell away the more time he spent with Willow.
Taking her hand, Nick led her up the narrow stairwell that led to the top of the restaurant, wondering if she noticed his slightly sweaty palms. Damn, he was nervous. She made him nervous. He didn’t want her to push him away, to tell him there was no way she would do what he wanted.
So he’d seduce her instead. With a beautiful view, a few murmured sexy words, and kisses on the neck.
Her favorite.
They emerged on top of the building and he led her to the side that faced the Wharf and the Monterey Bay just beyond. The wind was cooler up this high, blowing back her hair so it flew into his face. He brushed the stray tendrils away, baring her neck to his gaze as he breathed deep her scent. She smiled back at him, the most carefree he’d ever seen her.
“The view is beautiful,” she murmured as she leaned against the railing, peering over the edge to check out all the people milling around on the wharf below them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been up here before.”
“Nice, huh?” He came up behind her, bracing his hands on the railing on either side of her, boxing her in. “I like the view I have right here, too.”
A little shiver went through her when he impatiently nudged some of her hair away from her neck with his nose, pressing his mouth to her nape. Her skin was warm and so, so soft. Her low murmurings pleased him as he dropped tiny kisses on her neck, licking her skin.
Just like that he was hard for her. Aching for her. He stepped in closer, letting her feel just what she did to him, and she pressed her ass against his groin, trying to drive him crazy, no doubt.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, sounding scandalized.
He hoped like hell it was all an act. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“Trying to drive me crazy?” She drew in a harsh breath when he sucked on her earlobe.
“Yeah.” He slipped his hands beneath her shirt, touching her stomach. It quivered beneath his fingertips. “Remember how horny we used to get in public places, Will?”
She laughed, the soft sound tearing at his insides. Damn, he’d give anything to hear her laugh like that again and again. All the time. He liked a happy Willow. “Some of our more embarrassing memories, don’t you think?”
“Nah.” He slid one hand higher until he was cupping her breast, the lace of her bra rasping against his palm. He could feel her hard nipple beneath, and he brushed his thumb across it, making her gasp. “Remember that one time we were at a restaurant and I slipped my hand between your legs? Got you off while you were trying to talk to that waiter?”
“You were so bad,” she whispered. “How could I ever forget that?”
One of his favorite memories of Willow, ever. Her skin had been all flushed, her dark eyes sparkling, her breaths coming a little too fast. She’d just come all over his fingers and had to smile and offer a stuttered thank-you to their over-attentive waiter, who kept trying to sneak a look down the front of her tank top.
“I’m in the mood to make another memory tonight, Will. You on board?” Both hands were tunneled beneath her shirt now as he cupped her breasts, played with her nipples as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“But there are so many people…” Her voice trailed off when he pushed her bra up and touched bare skin.
“They’re down th
ere, baby. We’re up here, all alone. They’ll never be the wiser.” He removed one hand from her breast and cradled the side of her face, turning her so their lips met and clung. He took it deeper, the kiss turning instantly hot and wet, their tongues tangling, their breaths coming faster.
“We shouldn’t,” she whispered against his lips after she broke the kiss first.
He ground himself against her backside, his cock a needy, aching thing for her. Only her. “I need to be inside you. Please.”
She studied him, her eyes wide, her lips damp as she pressed them together. They were so close, his body molded to hers; he could feel every inch of her seeping into him. The arch of her back, the curve of her ass, those pretty long legs coming apart the slightest bit so he could rub his thigh between her thighs. A little groan escaped her when he did just that and he smiled.
This was going to be so easy.
And so good, too.
“You sure no one will notice?”
He nodded once, his hands going to her hips. “Turn and face the crowd, beautiful. I’ll take care of everything. You just enjoy the ride.”
Another soft laugh escaped her and she shook her head. “You better be quick then. What if someone catches us?”
“No chance in hell am I gonna be quick. And no one will catch us. We’re alone up here.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Remember?”
“I don’t feel so alone, what with all those people down there.” She waved a hand at the crowded wharf. “What if someone looks up and sees us?”
“You’ll be fully clothed. At least from the waist up, and they can’t see much beyond that.” He smiled as he slowly slid the zipper on her pants down. “And if someone catches us, well then we’re gonna give them the show of a lifetime.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“Turn around, Will,” he commanded, more than ready to slide inside her tight little body.
She did as he asked and he tugged at her black pants, pushing them down so they fell to her ankles. Her little pale pink lacy panties were a sight to behold, making him pause for the longest minute so he could drink in all that hotness. Damn, she drove him wild.
Game for Trouble Page 11
