by Jamie Wesley
“I don’t think she gives a damn.” He scrubbed his face with a hand. “I can’t have this happen again.”
Again? Caitlin sobered in an instant. “What’s going on?”
Brady let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping. “Look, my last girlfriend danced for my old team, and I didn’t realize what a big deal it was until the shit hit the fan. People thought I was getting special treatment and resented me for it. Breaking team rules was the excuse the team used to trade me. Dating or even looking like I’m thinking about dating someone who works for the team is the last thing I need. I need things to go right here.” He lifted his head and wiggled his shoulders like he was shaking off the moment of vulnerability. “So will you do it?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Do what exactly?”
“Pretend to be my girlfriend for a week or two.”
Shock reverberated through her, causing her to stumble back a step. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” A self-satisfied grin broke across his too-handsome face like he’d just solved all the world’s problems.
“No.” Not in a million years. She wanted to get involved with an athlete like she wanted Hans to never get well again.
“Come to a game or two,” he continued like she hadn’t spoken. “You like basketball. It won’t be a hardship.”
She threw her hands up. “Which part of ‘no’ do you not understand?”
“All of it. You don’t get anywhere in life by believing you can’t succeed.”
“Well, it’s time to start learning. Besides, you barely know me.”
“I know you’re not a stage-five clinger. If you were, you’d be jumping at this opportunity.”
She would not laugh. “How do I know you’re not a clinger? If we look at the current situation…”
He went all huffy, arrogant male. “I’m Brady Hudson. I don’t cling.”
“Except when you’re trying to escape a woman’s evil clutches.”
“It’ll be fun,” he said, ignoring the fact that she’d delivered a grade-A comeback.
Again, she jerked back in surprise. “How do you figure that?”
“You get to hang out with me. It’ll be our little secret. We’ll have fun. Be a little bad. Come on. You know you wanna.” A cocky grin accompanied the declaration.
“I do?” She would not return the smile. She would not get sucked in by a pretty face. By a man who had charm for days.
“Please.” The cockiness disappeared, replaced again by the vulnerability she was sure he hated to reveal. “I can’t flat-out reject her. This will save me a lot of problems. I’m the new guy, and I want my time here to go well. I don’t want people drawing comparisons to what happened in New York. This is the easiest way, and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
Caitlin sighed, her defenses collapsing like an undercooked soufflé. Man, she was the biggest sap. “I tell you what. I’ll do this for you tonight only.”
Just like that, the arrogance was back. “I’ll take it, but don’t be surprised if I change your mind.”
“Not going to happen. I’m stubborn. Let’s go.” Despite the distraction named Brady, she hadn’t forgotten the real reason she was here.
After reentering the ballroom, she kept her eyes peeled out for her prey. The room was crowded with fans, players, team staff, and event staff. The night was certainly a success from a fundraiser point of view. As they made their way around the room, people—fans mostly—kept coming up to Brady, one after another, to let him know they were thrilled to have him on the team. While he signed autographs and took photos, she did her part, smiling and playing the doting girlfriend, all the while scoping the room for one particular face.
Behind her, Brady said, “Hey, how are you? It’s good to see you.” She turned in time to see him shake the hand of the Stampede head coach. Brady drew her close to his side. “Coach, I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Caitlin. Caitlin, the one and only Mack Jameson, the best point guard to ever play the game and the man who’s going to lead the Stampede to a championship.”
Mack slapped him on the back. “You work fast, Hudson. You’ve only been in town a few weeks. It’s nice to meet you, young lady.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Somehow, she managed to speak normally. She didn’t know how.
After all, she’d just spoken to her father for the first time in her life.
Now was the chance she’d been waiting for since she found the get-lost letter Mack had written her mother so many years ago. The chance to tell him what a coward he was for abandoning her mom and never acknowledging his kids. The chance to embarrass him in front of his colleagues like he so deserved. She opened her mouth to do just that, but the words refused to come out.
Brady studied Caitlin. Ever since they’d talked to Mack, she’d gone unnaturally quiet. Not that he could claim to know her well, but her smile, as sarcastic as it could be, had disappeared. So had the spark in her pretty eyes.
“Want to play blackjack?” he asked.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure.”
“I’ll try to go easy on you.”
Her eyes narrowed in annoyance like he’d known they would. “No need. I think I know how to count to twenty-one and how to play the odds. Let’s go.” She strode away without waiting for him. He followed, holding back a smile. They arrived at the nearest blackjack table as another couple was leaving.
“Perfect,” she said.
“Yep, perfect for your decimation.”
She sniffed. “Not going to happen.”
They played hard and fast, only stopping a few times when fans and a few teammates came up to the table. Losing wasn’t in his DNA, but it didn’t matter. What Caitlin lacked in skill, she more than made up in moxie, outfoxing him more than once on sheer daring alone. Finally, he held up his hands in defeat. “Caitlin, you’re killing me.”
“I know,” she said with a wicked smile. He sucked in a breath, her shining eyes drawing him in. It took a hard slap landing on his back to jolt him out of his trance.
“How’s my newest player?” boomed the Stampede’s team owner, Dale Templeton. By the time the man stepped in front of Brady, Brady had pushed his lips into a smile. Dale wasn’t a bad guy. He’d had the good sense to approve a trade for Brady after all, but he apparently believed they were best friends and never failed to talk Brady up in the media, even when there was no reason for it. Which only made his teammates more suspicious that he was a me-guy.
Brady offered his hand. “Good, Mr. Templeton. This is a great party.”
Dale’s hearty handshake matched his stout figure. His walnut complexion and curly black hair he wore in a close cap around his head matched those of his daughter. “It is, isn’t it? The Stampede only put on the best events.” He shook his finger at Brady. “But hey, I’ve told you a million times to call me Dale.”
Brady nodded, contrite. “You’re right. My apologies.”
“No worries. Why don’t you introduce me to your date?”
“Of course.” Brady drew Caitlin closer at the waist, ignoring the way his hand felt right at home. “Dale, I’d like you to meet Caitlin.”
“Nice to meet you, Caitlin. You must be something if Brady brought you.”
“I don’t know about all that, but I do my best,” Caitlin said.
“Daddy, there you are,” a new voice joined in. Elise. “Oh, hi, Brady, I didn’t see you there. Caitlin.”
Caitlin, to her credit, didn’t wilt under the paltry greeting, merely offering up a polite smile. “Elise, hi. I was just about to tell your father I’ve always wanted to meet the man who saved the Stampede from being the league’s laughingstock.”
Seemed his date came to impress. Year after year, the team had found itself in last place in its division. Until Dale bought the team a few years ago with the millions he’d earned with his chain of soul food restaurants. He’d invested in the team by hiring Mack and spending the money to bring in a hi
gher quality of player, risks that had paid off. Except in one area. The team hadn’t won a championship yet. But they would if Brady had anything to say about it.
“Thank you,” Dale said before turning to Brady with a nod of approval. “You hang on to this one, Hudson. She knows her stuff and how to give a compliment without sounding like a complete suck-up.”
Brady and Caitlin joined the owner in companionable laughter. Elise could only offer up a pained smile.
“I have to mingle.” Dale slapped him on the back again. “Come with me. Let me introduce you to some of our season ticketholders.”
Brady found himself sandwiched between Dale and Elise, who wasted no time pressing herself against his side. He glanced behind him and mouthed, “Help me.” Caitlin hid her laugh with her hand and offered up a shrug. He faced forward again and immediately wished he hadn’t. A few feet away, Maguire met his gaze, doing little to hide his disgust. Brady lifted his chin, refusing to break eye contact until Dale tugged on his sleeve.
He pushed aside all thoughts of Maguire and turned his attention to greeting fans. A few minutes later, after the group dispersed, he made his way back to Caitlin. “Sorry about that.”
She waved a hand. “No worries. I understand your adoring public awaits.”
He studied his pretend date, struggling again not to laugh. “You’re not going to cut me any slack, are you?”
She shook her head in mock remorse. “No.”
Brady couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. He placed his hand over his heart. “You’re so kind.”
She nodded solemnly, her eyes twinkling. “I know.”
“Since you’re so wise, what do you think about getting a drink?”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
They hadn’t gotten far when someone else slapped him on the back.
Ryan Tillerson, one of the few teammates who’d been welcoming to him, stepped into Brady’s line of sight. “Brady, my man, you got here. With a date,” he added, eyeing Caitlin.
Brady resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the nosiness Tilly was doing nothing to hide. “Ryan Tillerson, meet Caitlin Monroe. Caitlin, Tilly, my teammate.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” she said.
“It’s my pleasure, believe me,” the troublemaking Tilly said in a smooth tone he would undoubtedly categorize as charming. “I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you, but that would be a lie.”
Caitlin quickly glanced at Brady. “We haven’t been, umm, dating that long.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind dumping Grumpy Cat and coming to have some fun with me. Look at how he’s scowling.”
Brady knew Tilly was trying to get a rise out of him. He didn’t care. He didn’t know why he didn’t care. He just didn’t. Brady stepped between his teammate and his pretend girlfriend. “Not going to happen, Tillerson. Get your own woman. Oh, wait. Don’t you already have one?”
Tilly’s green eyes laughed at him. “For the night, yes. But you can’t blame a man for noticing a pretty lady. Speaking of my date, she’s beckoning frantically. Must be something good.” Tilly wiggled his eyebrows and disappeared into the crowd.
“He’s funny,” Caitlin said.
Brady grunted.
Her eyebrows lifted. “What was up with that whole ‘get your own woman’ deal? We’re not actually dating, remember?”
Yes, he remembered. “I know this isn’t real, but I also don’t appreciate someone else trying to poach the woman I came with, especially when he has a date.” Brady divested an approaching waiter of two flutes of champagne and handed one to Caitlin before taking a swig of his own drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to calm his ire.
She took a sip of her champagne. “I’m pretty sure he was joking, but okay,” she said over the top of the glass. “Not that it matters. I wouldn’t date him anyway.” She made a dismissive wave with her free hand.
Curious, he lowered his glass and studied her. “Why not? He’s rich, not bad to look at, a good guy.” Why was he extolling the virtues of another man? Because although she was talking about Tilly, it felt like she was talking about him. And he wanted to know why. He might not be interested in dating right now, but rare was the woman who had no desire to date him. Especially one he found…interesting.
She shrugged. “Not my thing, that’s all.”
His head tilted to the side. “Not your thing? What does that mean?”
“You don’t want to get into that. Let’s play blackjack.”
He held up a hand. “No, I want to know.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, since you asked, athletes don’t have the best reputation when it comes to relationships.”
“So you’re just going to lump us all in together?”
Caitlin’s shoulders hunched in. “I have my reasons.”
Like what? Before he could ask, she stepped up to the blackjack table and asked the dealer for some chips. Brady followed and tried to push their conversation out of his mind. This wasn’t real. It was just for the night, so her anti-athlete stance didn’t matter. He wasn’t looking to get involved with anybody anyway.
An hour later, after he’d “donated” all the cash in his wallet to the cause, his date again showing him no mercy, he shifted toward her. “Are you ready to go? The party is slowing down.”
She glanced around the ballroom, which was now only half full, her hands twisting at her waist. “Umm…”
He frowned. “Did you forget something?”
She faced him, biting her lip. “No.”
Okay, but something was bothering her. “Are you freaking out because I offered to take you home?”
A faint smile curved her lips. “No, I’m about ninety-seven percent sure you’re not a serial killer.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She shook her head. “There’s no problem. Let’s get out of here.”
He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he let it go. They weren’t dating, and she didn’t owe him anything. They made their way out of the hotel to the valet stand. He handed his ticket to the attendant, who ran off.
“Quite a night, huh?” she asked, collapsing on the bench next to the stand. She crossed her legs, the slit in her dress giving him a too-tempting glimpse of her thigh.
He loosened his tie, his need for air sudden and desperate. Throughout the night, he’d managed to not think about how much she affected him by concentrating on blackjack and meeting fans. But now they were alone. “You can say that again. Scoot over.”
She looked up at him with a sly smile. “Why? I like having the bench all to myself.”
“I’ve gotten a crook in my neck looking down at you all night. This is too much of a difference for me to take.” He sat next to her, careful not to look at the bared flesh. Careful not to touch.
Indignation settled on her face. “I’m not that short.”
He loved riling her. She made it so easy. Somehow he managed to hold back a grin. “Yeah, compared to a five-year-old.”
She snorted. “You must give lessons on how to flatter a woman.”
“I do. I give other lessons, too.”
“Oh, yeah, like what?” Her lush mouth called to him yet again.
Before he could think about stopping himself, he leaned in and said, “How to treat a woman right. How to make a woman feel better than she ever has before.”
She met his gaze squarely, but her voice came out shaky. “Don’t try that on me. I’m immune.”
“You are?”
“Yep. Sure am.” A jerky nod accompanied the statement.
He reached up and brushed aside a strand of hair blowing against her cheek, his fingers lingering against the soft, fragrant skin. His eyes searched hers.
Her eyes darkened, but to her credit, she didn’t back away. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure you out.”
“I’m just me,” she whispered.
“That’s what I find so intriguing.”
Her
lips parted, like she was having trouble drawing in breath. The Texas November night air was still sultry, yes, but that wasn’t why she was having trouble. He wanted, needed to kiss her. Taste those lips that had been taunting him all night. He lowered his head. And touched nothing but air.
“What’s taking the valet so long?” Caitlin asked, looking in the direction of the garage.
Brady blinked, struggling to come out of the trance she’d put him in. “Wh—?”
Caitlin’s mouth landed on top of his, cutting off his question. Desire, which he’d managed to keep in check up until now, stormed through his defenses like he did on a breakaway to the basket. She tasted sweet, like champagne and the strawberries she’d nibbled on throughout the night.
All the reasons why he shouldn’t, couldn’t start something with her no longer mattered. He couldn’t remember them anyway. Now that he’d had one taste of her, he wanted more. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her closer until she was draped across his chest, her scent, that of peaches, clouding his senses. His tongue teased her bottom lip until she opened up with a moan that fed his desire. He slipped inside, dying to get more of the taste that was driving him out of his mind. Delicious. Sweet. So damned good.
She was right there with him, her talented lips and tongue enticing him to deepen the kiss, pressing her lithe body against him, sending blood rushing to his lap. What was she doing to him? He teetered on the edge of a cliff. Only the sound of an approaching car stopped him from falling over.
Slowly, reluctantly, they drew away from each other. Arousal swirled in the depths of her brown eyes. Arousal that matched his own.
His pulse beating hard in his ears, he gulped for air. Desperate to regain some control, he cleared his throat and asked, “What was that about?”
“Elise was watching.” A wicked smile curled her alluring lips. “That was my last act of goodwill as your girlfriend.”
Chapter Three
She’d rendered Brady speechless. Better to concentrate on that rather than on how her lips still tingled. Or how her heart still galloped out of control. Or how his gaze, so completely focused on her, so carnal, made her shiver uncontrollably.
