He laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun with a woman. “I’m the football expert.”
She sniffed disdainfully. “I’ll have you know I’ve probably seen more games than you have.”
“Is that so?”
“I was a cheerleader all through high school. College too. I know a good call from a bad one.”
“You were a cheerleader?” Oh yeah, he could easily imagine her long, slender body in one of those cute little outfits while she jumped around. She’d been sexy as hell.
“That’s all you got from that statement?” She pulled her car in behind his truck.
“What can I say? My male mind kinda stalled at cheerleader.”
Missy put the car in park and burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”
“But you like me.” He leaned over and kissed her square on the lips. She froze but quickly thawed and got into the kiss. Damn, but she made him hotter than a seventeen-year-old with a girl in the backseat of his daddy’s car. Not that T.S. had ever borrowed his dad’s car as a teen. His dad had split when he was four. He barely even remembered the guy. The closest he’d come was driving his older brother’s beater and the one time he’d tried to impress a girl in that car had led to disaster.
He shut out the past. It was easy to do, especially when the present was much more pleasurable. Plus, he’d had a lot of practice. He didn’t talk about his past. Ever.
He eased back. Missy’s eyes were closed. Her lips were soft and damp and slightly parted. Her breathing was erratic. She was as turned on as he was by the simple caress. “Why don’t you follow me back to my place?”
He wasn’t sure why he’d issued the invitation. He’d told himself their time together was done. But he wasn’t quite ready for that yet, hadn’t worked her out of his system.
“Okay.”
He hadn’t been expecting her easy agreement and was inordinately pleased by it. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Follow me and don’t get lost.” He dropped another quick kiss on her lips before quickly climbing out of her car, making certain to lock the door behind him. He hurried to his truck and signaled to Missy when he was ready. He drove slowly, making it easy for her to stay with him as they traversed the streets of Chicago.
It usually only took about twenty minutes to get home from Lucas’, but it took a bit longer as they’d stopped at a local pharmacy so he could get his prescriptions filled and pick up some supplies for bandaging his wound.
Finally, they arrived at his place. His apartment was on the top floor of a refurbished brownstone in an older section of the city. It had been a slum more than twenty years ago, but was now a blue-collar neighborhood. He liked it here. He also owned the building. Not many people knew that. He had buildings all over the area that he’d bought cheap and turned into affordable housing for regular families.
He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. He loved coming home. This building had been his first. He’d created a home for himself, as well as a source of income.
He climbed out and waited as Missy walked up the short driveway. “What do you think?”
She studied the older building that he’d lovingly restored. He’d spent more money than he should have on this one, but he’d known he was going to live here and that had made the extra cost worth it. “It’s lovely.”
His shoulders straightened and he felt proud as a peacock. Not that he needed her approval, but he wanted her to like his home. “Let me show you the inside.” He ushered her up the three steps to the front door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. There was a closed door with a brass knocker off to the right. “There are four apartments in the place. Two small ones on this floor, and one large one on each of the next two floors. I have the one on the third floor.”
“The penthouse,” she teased.
“Exactly.”
Missy ran her fingers over the oak banister as they walked up the stairs. “This place is really something. My building is new and clean, but it’s generic. This is…special.”
“I think so.” He unlocked the door to his apartment and ushered her inside. The foyer opened up right into the living area of his home. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable with a leather sectional, a big screen television and several chairs. A large bookcase flanked one wall, displaying books and art pieces he’d collected over time.
“This is really nice.” Missy kicked off her shoes and wandered into the room, trailing her fingers over the back of the sofa.
His balls drew up tight as he watched her fingers stroke the soft leather. He wanted those fingers on his body, specifically on his cock. “Glad you think so.”
She shot him a grin as she took off her coat. “More settled, less frat boy than I imagined.”
“What can I say? I’m fairly domesticated.” He toed off his shoes and hung up the ruined tuxedo jacket he’d worn home. He’d worn it more for warmth than anything else. He was going to have to buy the damn thing from the rental place. The pants weren’t in much better shape than the jacket.
He’d deal with that tomorrow. For now, he was happy to be home and have Missy here with him. He walked into the kitchen and noticed the answering machine was blinking. He hadn’t been home since Saturday afternoon so he’d probably missed quite a few calls. He didn’t worry, though. Anyone with an emergency could have reached him on his cell.
He hit the button and waited. Two hang-ups, a couple of telemarketers, but the final message was from his mom. “Theo, are you home? I hate talking to machines,” she muttered. “Call me.”
He sensed Missy behind him, her curiosity as she joined him. His hope that she’d missed the message was dashed when she smiled. “Theo, huh?”
“Don’t start.” He wagged a finger at her.
“Is it short for Theodore?”
“No, it’s not.”
“What does the S stand for?”
God, she looked gorgeous standing there with a huge smile on her face while she teased him about his name. She’d changed before they’d left her place. She’d pulled on a faded pair of jeans that molded to her long, lean legs and clung to her curves. She’d paired it with a soft, blue sweater that just hit the waistband of her jeans. T.S. kept watching it, hoping it would rise up and show a dark swathe of her stomach.
“I’m not telling.”
She walked two fingers up his chest. “Come on, tell me.” She pouted, bringing his attention to her mouth, specifically her slightly moist lips. She’d slicked some kind of gloss on them before they’d left her place. Made them look even more lush than usual. He wanted to lick them. His cock twitched and his balls drew up tighter.
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I was named after both my grandfathers on my mother’s side. Unfortunately, neither of them had very good names. I’ve got to make a quick call.”
Reluctantly, he released her hand and reached for the phone. His mother would worry if he didn’t call her. She’d already lost one son. Cameron had died as he’d lived. Violently. Caught in a prison fight with someone bigger and meaner than himself.
T.S. dialed and waited while the phone rang. It was picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mama. You looking for me?”
“Theo.” The way she said his name made his chest tighten. No matter what had happened in his life, his mother had always been there for him. “You didn’t call, so I worried.”
He always called his mother on Saturday. With everything that had happened it had slipped his mind. “Sorry about that. But I told you I had the wedding to go to this weekend.”
“How was it? That Lucas is such a good boy. Such a hard worker.” He grinned. Only his mother would call Lucas Squires a boy. “The wedding was great.” He chatted for a few more minutes, very aware of Missy watching him and listening while trying desperately to appear like she wasn’t.