Tempting the Player

by J. Lynn

  Her friend snorted as she shrugged on a black peacoat. “You don’t have extra layers of protection, Bridget.”

  Confusion crossed Chase’s features, and Bridget bit back a giggle. “I have no idea what you two are talking about,” he said.

  “Trust me,” Bridget replied, grinning at Madison. “Keep it that way.”

  Heading down the main cluster of cubicles, she vainly ignored how her friend slowed down to an ant’s crawl when they passed Robert McDowell’s desk. It was common knowledge that the numbers guy had a thing for Bridget. He was nice and good-looking, but Bridget was more turned on by her polka-dotted vibrator than Robert.

  And Chad—she had been really turned on by him, which proved she had no common sense, but at least her vagina was still fully functioning.

  Robert was missing a certain element. An element that even Bridget had a hard time naming, but knew it would speak to her when she saw it. Sad thing was when she met Chad at that damn club a month ago, it really had spoken to her with a bullhorn.

  She’d taken two steps and Robert’s head popped out from behind drab gray walls. His blond hair was a bit shaggy, framing a boyish face. “Hey there, Miss Rodgers…” His gaze dropped. “New shoes?”

  If only she was attracted to him, Robert would be perfect. He noticed things like shoes. “Why, yes, I got them a week ago.”

  “Very nice,” he said, sitting back. “On the way to lunch?”

  She realized he might’ve been hamming for an invite and so did Madison, who was already opening her big mouth. “Thank you,” she cut in quickly. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  She hurried past, feeling like one giant bitch for doing so, but she’d rather feel that way than lead the guy on or end up in an awkward moment where he inevitably asked her out and she gave some lame excuse like she was washing her cat’s hair that night.

  In the elevator, Madison turned narrowed eyes on Bridget. “You could’ve invited him, you know.”

  “I know.” She folded her arms.

  Chase leaned against the wall, tipping his head back. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because—”

  “Because Robert likes Bridget,” Madison explained, finishing up the buttons on her jacket. “And Bridget likes pens.”

  “Pens?” Chase echoed.

  Bridget rolled her eyes. “Pens are by far more stimulating than most people.”

  “I’m kind of wondering what you’re doing with those pens,” Chase said.

  Madison scrunched up her nose. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “My mind is always in the gutter around you.”

  And there they went again, inching closer and closer, arms going around each other, kissy sounds and all. Bridget closed her eyes and let out a low breath. Being around them was like standing next to two horny teenagers.

  Damn, she was jealous.

  The elevator couldn’t move fast enough, and she was surprised Chase and Madison didn’t end up having sex in the thing. A bit of the glass walls were fogged up, though.

  Brisk November wind cooled Bridget’s cheeks as they dodged businessmen carrying briefcases and tourists with fanny packs. Off in the distance, the Washington Monument rose like one giant…phallic symbol.

  Men and their architectural toys…

  Weird looks were sent their way, ones that either Madison or Chase ignored or didn’t see, but Bridget saw every one of them. A red cardigan typically didn’t go well with a pink-and-white-striped skirt and colorful heels and white tights, but Bridget’s oddball fashion sense wasn’t anything new. More like a reject from the eighties to be exact, but she’d always been this way, throwing clothes together, mix-matching designs like a trendy Euro-trash designer.

  Her mother believed it was some kind of psychological misdirection enabling Bridget to protect herself from getting hurt. Eye. Roll. She just liked colors and really wished her mother were in any career, even stripping, instead of psychology.

  Nothing beats getting diagnosed over Thanksgiving dinner.

  Halfway there, Chase dug out his cell and chuckled, drawing both their attentions. He texted something back and then bent down, brushing his lips across Maddie’s forehead.

  Two blocks down from the Mall, they dipped into the trendy new diner. Warm air greeted them, as did the faint smell of grease and pricey food. The place was crowded, which made squeezing between the round tables tricky.

  “Are we going to get a seat?” Bridget asked, hoping the blister she was getting on the back of her foot wasn’t in vain.

  Chase nodded. “I called ahead. We got a booth out back.”

  A frown puckered Madison’s face. “I thought this place didn’t do reservations?”

  He smiled.

  Of course, Bridget realized, no establishment in town would refuse Chase or any of the Gamble brothers. Besides the politicians and drug dealers, the Gamble brothers ran this town.

  The roomy booth in the back, caddy corner to a not so surprisingly busy bar, was big enough to seat six comfortably. Madison and Chase took up one side while Bridget slid into the opposite seat, thankful she loathed jackets as she watched Madison mutter under her breath, stand again, and then take off her jacket. A server swung by their table, dropping off plastic-covered menus and taking their drink orders.

  “Can I get another water?” Chase asked, spreading an arm along the back of the booth. “We have one more person joining us.”

  “Sure,” the waitress replied, smiling.

  “We do?” Madison asked once the waitress dashed away to fill the order.

  The strangest feeling washed over Bridget. Kind of felt like someone had poked her in the stomach a couple of times as she stared at Chase, praying to every God she knew that he wasn’t going to say what she was fearing.

  Chase flipped the menu over. “Yeah, it’s a good thing Richard—”

  “Robert,” Madison corrected.

  “Didn’t get invited, because Chad texted me on the way here. He’s just a block down, and he’s going to grab something to eat with us.”

  Bridget stopped breathing. And then she lost her appetite, just like that. Vanished, replaced by knots twisted more times than a Celtic loop.

  Oh no, no no no…this could not be happening.

  When she had dashed out of Chad’s luxurious apartment, sans panties, she figured that would be the last she’d see of him in person. They really didn’t run in the same circles, and she had sworn off sexy bars in her future.

  She felt sick.

  “Great,” Madison said, leaning back against the seat. “Let’s see how long he goes before he gets his picture taken or asked for an autograph.”

  The smile that crossed Chase’s face was full of pride. “Hey, he’s the star. Recognize.”

  Bridget stopped listening to them as she glanced back through the restaurant and eyed the door. She couldn’t be here. No way was she eating lunch with Chad. Panic blossomed in her belly and crawled up her throat. Good God, she hadn’t even told Shell about what happened, much less Maddie.

  There was a good chance she was going to hurl.

  What if he recognized her?

  What if he didn’t recognize her?

  She didn’t know which would be worse.

  “Bridget, are you okay?” Concern radiated from Madison’s voice.

  Nodding absently, she grabbed her purse. “Yeah, but I just remembered I had this phone call at the office. I…I better get back.”

  Madison frowned. “What phone call?”

  Uh, yeah, what phone call? “I need to check in with the catering company about desserts for the gala event.”

  Madison’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we were waiting to hear back from them.”

  Bridget started to stand. “Oh, yeah, but I wanted to call them—” She cut herself off. Her boss was giving her a look that said, Sit down and stop acting weird, and really, bolting on lunch would just look crazy.

  “Never mind,” Bridget said, fixing a smile on her face. �
��It can wait.”

  Madison stared at her a moment longer and then went back to chatting up Chase.

  Life could be so unbelievably cruel.

  For the last month, she had wrestled with what she had done and didn’t do with Chad. Part of her was glad she had left before the man wised up and regretted bringing her home, but the other part, the one that operated purely on memories, rehashed the way he’d kissed and touched her over and over again. For a straight month she replayed it, unable to shake the feelings he had awakened in her and wishing she had more memories to linger over.

  God, she couldn’t even think about this right now.

  When the drinks arrived, she swallowed a gulp, wishing there were some vodka in her diet soda. She needed to try to leave again. Had to. “Madison, I forgot—”

  A low rumble from the front of the restaurant cut off Bridget and any hope she had of making a clean getaway. She didn’t have to look to know that he was there. All the commotion was for him. Ball players were like gods in their hometowns.

  She dropped her hands to her lap and continued staring at the menu, but when Chase greeted his brother, she had no control over herself. Not looking was like going against nature.

  Worn jeans hung low from a tapered waist and the long-sleeved shirt he wore stretched taut over a stomach she knew you could do a nation’s worth of laundry on. Like the other two Gamble brothers, he had shoulders a girl could hold on to. Shoulders that could bear the brunt of anything you threw his way. He had a body that was meant for sex.

  She really shouldn’t think of sex right now.

  His attention was on whatever Chase was saying, and she was sure he hadn’t even noticed her yet. Why would he when the waitress suddenly appeared out of freaking nowhere, popping a hand on a nonexistent hip as she stared up at him like he was on the appetizer menu. Bridget couldn’t blame her. His easy grin made her stomach flutter as he took the menu from the waitress, his long fingers brushing hers as he did so.

  “There’s a water for you,” the waitress said, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. “Would you like something else?”

  Chad shook his head. “Nope, that’s perfect. Thank you.”

  Bridget bit down on her lower lip at the sound of his deep, smooth voice and told herself to look away, but now she couldn’t. She stared at him like she was nine kinds of crazy, part of her willing him to look away and another part hoping he disappeared.

  “Are you sure?” the waitress asked, batting lashes like she was having a seizure. “I’ll be more than happy to get you something a bit tastier.”

  Madison choked on her drink.

  “Water is fine, but thank you,” Chad said, polite as ever. And then he added, “But I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

  Bridget sighed, totally foreseeing an exchange of numbers in their future.

  Finally, the waitress disappeared with a promise to be back to get their orders and an extra swing in her hips.

  “Can’t take you anywhere,” Chase said, grinning.

  Chad chuckled. “Whatever.”

  And then he reached toward Madison, no doubt about to ruffle her hair, but she jerked back, eyes narrowed. “Do that and you won’t be making the waitress’s dreams come true anytime soon.”

  Her threat was no deterrent, though, and he managed to mess up her hair before Chase stepped in, threatening to do bodily harm.

  Bridget was slowly sinking into the cushion, keeping her hands still tightly clasped. Maybe he would never notice her. Seemed probable, since he hadn’t looked in her direction once, but then Chase had to open his mouth.

  “Oh, you haven’t met Bridget, have you?” Chase nodded in her direction, and she felt her eyes go saucer-size wide. “She works with Madison.”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God…

  As if time came to a crawl and she was stuck in one of those cheesy movies, Chad turned toward her slowly. A wide, welcoming smile split his lips as his gaze flickered over her. He was already leaning down and extending a hand toward her.

  Their eyes met.

  The smile on his face faded as he jerked back, his eyes widening slightly in recognition.

  Oh, crap.

  Chad stared at her so long heat infused her cheeks, and then he spoke one word, breathed it really. “You.”

  Chapter Seven

  Holy shit, it was her.

  Here, with his brother and Maddie. He almost couldn’t believe it. He was still pretty pissed that she had bolted on him that weekend, but he’d finally come to accept that it was unlikely he’d see her again. But here she was, a month later, popping up in a restaurant in the middle of the day with his brother, which meant there was no way in hell Bridget hadn’t known who he was related to when they met that night. First off, he looked just like his brother and secondly, everyone knew the Gamble brothers. Everyone.

  Chad was struck stupid.

  Today had started off like any other off-season day. Four-hour workout in the morning—it was true. Players really were made in the off-season—the training, the workouts. Then he managed to evade his babysitter for the rest of the morning. The stick was even farther up her ass than normal since he’d gotten caught leaving his brother’s bar with Tony. Yeah, he’d been a little intoxicated, but damn, he hadn’t been with a female and he’d behaved himself. Mostly. According to Miss Gore, having a few drinks was tantamount to punt-kicking a baby.

  He’d kept a low profile the last month, but Miss Gore wasn’t impressed, and every time he stepped out of his house, she was right on his ass. So when Chase had texted him about lunch, Chad jumped at the chance to get out and also piss off Miss Gore at the same time. But the last thing he expected was to see her again.

  God. Damn.

  She looked just like he remembered but better. Rich auburn hair pulled back in a low bun, but he knew it was long and full of soft waves that would tumble around her heart-shaped face. Her normally porcelain complexion was flushed now and full, pouty lips parted.

  Chase cleared his throat. “Uh, you two know each other?”

  He couldn’t stop staring at Bridget.

  Her light green eyes were wide as she stared back, no doubt remembering just how well the two of them knew each other. Not as well as Chad had wanted but pretty damn close. Since she was sitting down, he couldn’t get an eyeful of those lush curves. He wanted to peel off that fucking cardigan because it was way too concealing.

  Bridget swallowed, and her gaze swung toward his brother and Maddie. “Um, we met briefly,” she said.

  Met briefly?

  Maddie’s mouth dropped open. “How come you never mentioned you met Chad?”

  Yeah. How come? He was very, very curious and a bit offended. Why wouldn’t she mention that she knew him? Then again, considering where they met, most people didn’t bring up that club in common conversation.

  Sitting down beside her, he leaned back and folded his arms. And waited.

  Bridget glanced at him nervously. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  He was pretty confident that he was a big deal.

  “And I actually kind of forgot about it.” She laughed, toying with the paper her straw had come wrapped in.

  She forgot about it that quickly? Bull. Shit. His ego more than a little bruised, he was about two seconds from explaining just how well they knew each other but stopped. She didn’t want anyone to know what happened and he could respect that, but she was definitely going to have to reevaluate her “not a big deal” statement later.

  Going along with this, Chad smiled and decided two could play at this game. “It was a while ago—at a game or something? You asked for my autograph, I think.”

  Bridget’s delicate brows slammed down. “No. It wasn’t at a game, and I didn’t ask for your autograph.”

  “You sure?” He glanced at his brother, who was watching them with raised brows. “Hell, I remember the face, but you’re going to have to refresh my memory about the rest.”

  “No reason to. Like I said, it was just a brief
meeting.” She squirmed a little, and it drew his attention downward. The curve of her hip and thigh made his cock swell. “I’m sure there are a lot of faces you don’t remember,” she added.

  He tilted his head to the side, not missing the sly jab. “I imagine the same could be said about you.”

  Her head jerked toward him, eyes a more vibrant shade of bottle green. She was angry. Good. He wasn’t feeling too cuddly, either.

  Across the table, Maddie watched with rabid fascination. “Okay, so where did you two meet if it wasn’t at a game?”

  “Good question,” Chad murmured, eagerly awaiting Bridget’s response.

  She squirmed even more, so much so that her thigh brushed his.

  “You’re fidgeting,” he pointed out. “And we’re waiting.”

  “I’m not fidgeting.”

  He clamped a hand down on her thigh, just above the knee, and she nearly jumped out of the booth. “You’re fidgeting.”

  Her gaze dropped to his hand, and her flush deepened. He felt her shiver, and a near feral urge seized hold of him. Instinct demanded that he keep his hand right where it was or inch it down a few centimeters and then slide it up that skirt. Speaking of the skirt, it reminded him of a candy cane. He wanted to lick those stripes, but he doubted his brother and Maddie would be interested in that kind of show.

  Smiling at her, he slowly lifted his hand, one finger at a time.

  His brother and Maddie exchanged long looks. Lucky for Bridget, the waitress arrived to take their orders. Everyone ordered burgers and the waitress lingered longer than necessary, which normally wouldn’t have bothered Chad, but his attention was elsewhere, currently on the little liar sitting next to him.

  “So, where did we meet?” he asked, grinning when she stiffened. If she thought she was off the hook that easily, she had another think coming. After a month of wondering what the hell happened to her, he wouldn’t let her get away this time.

  Bridget looked up, her chin jutting out stubbornly. “It was at some bar. You were there with a friend.”

  “Hmm, I can’t recall this bar.”

  She shot him a glare, and Chad’s grin spread. Understanding quickly flared in her eyes, and then she looked away. “Anyway, Madison almost has the numbers finished for the winter gala.”