by Maggie Wells
Danny, Mike, Gene, and Jonas all turned to her in unison.
“You did this?” Danny asked.
“I should have known,” Mike muttered.
“Way to go, Coach,” Gene said, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at her with blatant admiration.
Only Jonas dared to laugh. “That’s our Kate. She plays hard, and she plays to win.”
Richard Donner turned to Danny and offered his hand. “You’re a lucky man, Coach McMillan.”
“Don’t I know it,” Danny said, fixing an unsettling, blue stare on her.
A few beats of awkward silence filled the room, and Kate forced herself not to fidget under her husband’s intense scrutiny. If he thought he could psych her out when she already had the game in hand, the man had another think coming.
“Speaking of lucky men,” Donner prompted, breaking the tension.
Mike sprang into action like a windup toy. “Oh! Right.” He pulled a key card out of his pocket and held it out to them. “I can handle the nitty-gritty stuff with Gene and Jonas. You two have better things to do.”
Danny glanced at the key card. “We do?”
“It’s your wedding night,” Donner boomed, grinning expansively. “Chancellor Martin thought securing the honeymoon suite for two important personnel would be a nice gesture on the part of the university.”
Danny shrank back from the key as if it were a snake. A dull red flush crept up his neck. “Oh, he did, did he?”
Before things got too far out of hand, Kate snatched the key from Mike’s fingertips and reached for Danny’s hand. “Well, that was right nice of him,” she drawled. “Wasn’t that nice, sugarplum?” she cooed, fluttering her lashes at her husband.
In an instant, all that intensity zeroed in on her. “No. No sugarplum.”
Tugging on his hand, she started for the door. “Come on, honey lamb. Let’s leave the nice vipers to earn their cut off the top.”
“No honey lamb either,” he said, shooting a warning glare at his old friend when Mike started to snicker.
“How about hot stuff?” Kate asked as she pulled him out into the hall.
“Getting warmer.” He stopped dragging his feet and caught her up against him. “Only one problem with your plan, mastermind.”
A puzzled frown pulled at her brows as she tried to figure out what she might have missed. “Oh? What’s that?”
He jerked his chin at the doors lining the hallway. “We don’t know which room that key opens.”
Temporarily stymied by his reasoning, she had to laugh. “Yeah, well…” She glanced over her shoulder at the room they’d just escaped. “We could go back in there and ask, but I really don’t want to. What if they try to take it back?”
“They can’t take it back. I’ll crush them if they try,” he growled.
Kate beamed at him. “Oh, so macho. I like it. Well, we can either go down to the front desk and ask, or”—she scanned the deserted corridor once again—“we employ a little deductive reasoning.”
He kissed her hard and fast, stamping the latter idea with his approval. He set her down on her too-high heels once more but held on until he was certain she was steady. “Okay, Detective Snyder. Wow me.”
“Oh, I plan on it.” She pressed a finger to her bottom lip, then tapped it. “We’re on the top floor already. Stands to reason all the best rooms would be up here.”
“You’re brilliant.”
“I know.” She smiled, warmed by the affection in his tone more than the compliment itself. “That room on the other end of the hall has double doors and what appears to be some kind of plaque on the wall. I’m going to put my money on that one.”
“Quick and bold. I like that.” He squinted at the far door. “I can’t read it from here. Can you?”
“No,” she admitted as she stepped out of the nosebleed pumps Millie had forced her into. Swooping down, she caught the pair by the toothpick heels, then used them to gesture toward her pick. “Race you for it.”
Their eyes met, held, and then they both took off down the corridor at a full sprint. Hampered by her snug skirt, she touched the brass plaque engraved with the words “Honeymoon Suite” a fraction of a second after he did.
“I let you win,” she panted, falling back against the door and letting her shoes clatter to the floor at his feet.
“Bull.”
“My feet hurt from those stupid shoes.”
“Sexy shoes,” he corrected. “Whiner.”
“I’m wearing a skirt,” she cried, gesturing angrily at the knee-length instrument of torture that hobbled her stride.
Bracing his hand against the door, Danny caged her in. “Excuses, excuses.”
She looked up at him from under her lashes. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he answered, his lips hovering just above hers. “Even if you do play dirty.”
He closed the distance before she could draw breath. Thankfully, the man was more than generous about sharing his. They kissed slow and deep, taking their time, savoring one another and the victory.
“You have no idea how dirty I would have played,” she whispered as he peppered her throat and neck with those little sucking kisses that made her insides clench and dissolve all at the same time. “I would have done whatever it took to keep you. You’re mine.”
Capturing her face in his hands, he tipped her chin up. “And you’re mine. Forever.”
“Forever,” she agreed on a sigh.
This kiss was hotter, deeper, and more demanding than the last. She moaned into his mouth when he slipped one hand down to stroke her ass. Kate tugged impatiently at her skirt, lifting it up just enough to hook a leg over his. Danny pressed into her, lining their bodies up with mind-melting precision. He slipped his hand under the hem of her skirt and shoved it a few inches higher.
“God, I love it when you wear skirts. Skirts and sports bras,” he rasped against her cheek. “I love seeing you in both, but I love seeing you out of them more.”
“I have to admit, I prefer to do without them both.”
She arched against him, and he groaned. “For the love of all that’s holy, where did that key go?”
Kate slid a hand between them and stroked the hard ridge of his erection. “I think I dropped it with the shoes.”
He groaned again, but this time, it was laced with pain and frustration. “You’ll have to get it. I might put an eye out if I try to bend over.”
She snorted and wound her arms tight around his neck, holding him there for just a moment longer. “Think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
A low growl rumbled in his throat. She felt it roll through her as his mouth covered hers again. “Get the key, or I get to have you here and now.”
The all-too-familiar whir of a camera shutter made her laugh tangle in her throat. Danny froze, one hand up her skirt, the other palming her breast through her jacket. “Millie, you have half a second to run before I take you apart piece by piece,” he said in a deep, menacing tone.
“Sweetheart, I only run if there’s a shoe sale involved,” Millie answered with her sandpapery laugh.
Poking her head around Danny’s shoulder, Kate glared at her friend. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I needed one more shot. Just in case.” Unfazed by Danny’s threats, Millie sauntered over to the shoes Kate had ditched and pulled out the hotel key card.
“In case of what?” Kate asked, holding Danny snug against her as she took the plastic key from her friend.
“In case I need a distraction.” She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed Danny’s cheek. “Congratulations—you won the girl.” She kissed Kate’s cheek next and then pulled back, tears shining in her eyes. “Best wishes to the bride.”
“Thank you,” Kate called after her.
Millie simply raised a hand in acknowledgment. “Strawberries and champagne in the room. Not that you two look like you need them.” The elevator chimed, and she called out, “Enjoy your sexy times.”
She laughed and rocked her forehead against his. “Nope. I like the ones I have just fine.”
“They’re cracked.”
Kate pressed a playful kiss to his lips, then swung her arm back to grope for the key slot. “And they say such nice things about you.”
Danny gently freed the key from her fingers. A quick swipe, and Kate had to make a grab for his forearms as the door swung inward. He pulled her upright, then took her with him as he stepped away from the open door.
“What are you doing?”
But before she got the question out, he’d caught her behind the knees and cradled her to his chest. When she giggled, he pretended to stagger under her weight. “Man, I’d better get back in the weight room.”
“That’s it. I’m crushing you with my thighs just as soon as we get your life insurance straightened out.”
He grinned and stole a hard, fast kiss. “No life insurance. You’re going to have to deal with me for a good long time, Mrs. McMillan.” He swiped one more smacking kiss. “It’s a good thing you can afford to keep me.”
She snorted. “It’s still a pittance compared to what you guys make.”
He shook his head. “Don’t dismiss what you did today, Kate. You scored big, and I know you’re going to come at them even harder next time. You deserve everything you got and more.”
Offering him her sweetest smile, she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Were you planning to carry me over that threshold, Mr. Snyder? If so, you might want to step up your game a bit.”
“Yes, Coach,” he answered agreeably. “Whatever you say, Coach.”
“I say I love you, super jock.”
He kissed her soft and sweet, then stepped into the room. Setting her on her feet once more, he tucked her hair behind her ear. “I love you too, my little flower.”
Beaming, she wriggled from his grasp, unzipped her skirt, and stepped out of the pool of fabric with exaggerated delicacy. Shooting him a flirtatious glance, she turned toward the bedroom and called over her shoulder, “Race you for the bed!”
Epilogue
Kate tugged on Danny’s hand, drawing to a stop just outside the door of Calhoun’s bar. “Okay, we have a six a.m. flight, and we still have to pack. We’re in, we drink, we’re out.”
He chuckled. “You are a party animal.”
“Danny, I’m tired. I’ve been on the road or on the phone with my agent for the past two weeks. I just want to get on that plane and get away for a while.”
“You just want to go home and watch the NBA draft.”
She flashed a sheepish smile. “Well, it’s been twenty years since Wolcott has had a first-round prospect coming out of the men’s program. I’m excited for Ty.”
He leaned in and placed a tender kiss at the center of her forehead. “Okay. We’ll make it quick. Then we’ll go home and turn on NSN while you pack your bikini.”
She snorted, then hauled him back for a better kiss. Right smack on the lips. “My bikini isn’t the star of the show. Wait until you see the Speedo I scored for you. We’re talking Mark Spitz 1976 red, white, and blue for my all-American boy. I thought it would be fitting, with the Fourth of July coming up and all.”
Unperturbed by the threat, he disentangled himself and gestured toward the door to the bar. “I bet I’ll look awesome in it.”
“I bet you will too with your big, powerful, former football player bod,” she cooed. But competitive annoyance surged as she yanked the handle on the heavy wooden door. He would look awesome, even in a ridiculous suit like that. As if she’d allow him to wear such a thing. The man attracted enough female attention just walking around in his coach khakis and a golf shirt.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she found him wearing his mind-reader smirk. She was conjuring a zinger to wipe that smidge of smug off his face when they stepped across the threshold and were hit by a wall of noise. Not the usual cacophony of clinking glasses and shrieking coeds but one cohesive shout of “Surprise!”
Before she realized what was happening, Millie enveloped her in a perfumed hug. “Happy wedding day!”
“Wait, what?” Kate squirmed, trying to break free from Millie’s grasp. Her resistance was futile. She may have had a height and muscle advantage on her friend, but Millie had a strength of will that made fire-forged iron look as flexible as aluminum foil.
“You said you were going to have a wedding, but then you didn’t do anything,” Millie shouted over the barroom hubbub.
“I’ve been gone,” Kate reminded her.
“And tomorrow you leave for your honeymoon. Well, you can’t have a honeymoon without a wedding, missy,” she said starchily. She clamped a hand around Kate’s wrist like a manacle and pulled. “Come on.”
In the blink of an eye, Kate found herself torn from Danny’s side and swallowed by the crowd. Summer sessions had started early in June, but the crowd was still much thinner than usual. She waved to Mike Samlin and his wife, and they raised their hands in return. She spotted the track and field coach, her own assistants, as well as a couple of Ty’s from the men’s team, and, surprisingly enough, Dominick Mann, Wolcott’s enigmatic baseball coach.
“How’d you get Dom Mann to come?” Kate shouted into Millie’s ear.
Millie shrugged. “I asked.”
“I’ve invited him to a hundred things,” Kate complained. “He never comes to anything.”
Millie’s steps slowed as they wound through a knot of revelers near the dartboards. “I’m a lot more charming than you are,” she replied with a saccharine-sweet smile.
Kate laughed. “Bullshit.”
“And less intimidating,” Millie added. “Believe it or not, Katie, not all men are as enthralled by your Wonder Womanness as dear Danny.”
Craning her neck, Kate scanned the crowd for more familiar faces. Her steps faltered when she caught the profile of a man seated at the small table she, Millie, and Avery usually shared, but Millie yanked her along like a steam engine. They were heading for the ladies’ room at the back of the bar, full speed ahead.
Once inside, Millie released her arm, but Kate was immobilized by a spindly missile aimed right at her torso.
“Oh, Aunt Katie,” her niece Kylie crooned as she hugged her tight. “You’re getting married.”
Kate ran her hand over the girl’s dishwater-blond hair, a soft smile curving her lips as she allowed herself to be squeezed with the anaconda-like enthusiasm of an almost-thirteen-year-old. No point in quibbling over the technicalities that took place at the courthouse weeks before. With Kylie here, whatever Millie had cooked up for these festivities would be family official.
Patting her niece’s bony back, she nodded. “That’s what I hear. Too bad no one told me, or I would have dressed better.”
Kylie drew back and stared at the cropped capris and washed-thin T-shirt Kate wore with a look of horrified distaste only an adolescent girl could pull off. She hesitated when she spotted Kate’s brightly colored sneakers.
“Well, the shoes are pretty,” Kylie said at last.
Kate preened, both at the compliment and the fact that she and her beloved girl shared some similar interests. She and her sister, Audrey, had struggled their whole lives to find common ground, but Kylie seemed to be the perfect meld of the two of them. Someone cleared their throat with a loud “Ahem,” and Kate looked up to find her sister standing beside the lone toilet stall, a long white garment bag suspended by her fingers.
“Oh. Hey, Aud,” Kate said, reluctantly untangling herself from Kylie’s gangly embrace. “You’re here.”
“Well, I finally got invited to one of your weddings,” her sister said with a sniff. “I could hardly pass that up, right?”
“Audrey, I tried—”
But her sister stopped her with an outstretched hand. “I know. I get it.” She shot an affection-filled glance at her daughter, the
n smiled. “We’re just glad to be here.” Tipping her head toward the door, she said, “Mark’s here too,” referring to her husband. “He was excited to get to watch part of the draft with all you basketball types.”
“Speaking of the draft,” Millie interrupted. “We need to get you changed and this show on the road, or we aren’t going to be able to pull this off before the first pick.” She tugged the zipper on the garment bag all the way down. “Dress.”
Kate caught a glimpse of traditional white satin and organza, then realized something was missing. Kate found herself awaiting a lecture on patriarchal traditions and the suppression of feminist ideals by the wedding industry. “Where’s Avery?”
“She’s handling things out front. She said to tell you that if you find it hypocritical to dress yourself up as a vestal virgin en route to ritual sacrifice, you can find her by the pool table and she’ll protect you from Bridezilla.” Millie pursed her lips. “I think she means me, but as usual, Avery misses the point.” She pulled a flat, white box out of her ever-present tote bag and thrust it at Kate. “Bridal undergarments.”
“Wait until you see the shoes, Aunt Katie,” Kylie gushed. “They’re like Cinderella shoes.”
Millie snorted. “As if Cinderella could afford Jimmy Choos.”
Kate blinked. She’d spent enough time with Millie to know that the name meant some serious shoe dollars spent. “Jimmy Choos?”
A beatific smile lit Millie’s face. “I got them at a trillion percent off. You are so lucky to have those enormous feet. The sale racks were practically begging me to relieve them of their burden.” She nodded to the stall. “But shoes last. Get changed, and we’ll get you hitched up.”
“Millie’s a romantic,” Kate called to Kylie as she stepped into the stall. “Every day, she whistles ‘Someday My Prince Will Come’ to all the little mice and bluebirds.” She smiled at her sister as she draped the garment bag over the top of the stall. “Thanks, Audrey.”
Audrey nodded. “We’ll be out here if you need help with the zipper or something.”
