“Aw, we just want to give him a kiss,” one of them said with a pout.
“No,” Sam said.
“Why not?”
“Sorry.” This from a grinning Wade. “She’s not much on sharing.” He turned his head, which was now only a few inches from Sam’s, and gave her a warm, just-for-her smile that for a moment cut off the oxygen to her brain.
The women obligingly backed off.
Mouth curved, eyes warm, Wade tugged on a strand of her hair. “Makes me hot seeing you get all possessive like that.”
Yeah, he read her. Like a well-thumbed book. She rolled her eyes and he caught her wrist, tugging her in so their mouths were close.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered, half panicked and yet half hopeful at the same time.
“Only if you say please.”
She tugged free and moved back to her real duties, which absolutely did not include falling for his effortless charm.
Afterwards, at the team meeting, Wade came up to her. “Thanks for protecting me out there.”
She just gave him a long look, which crumpled completely when he slung an arm around her neck and pulled her in, pressing a lingering but friendly kiss on her temple. Her heart fluttered. “What are you doing?”
“Being your boyfriend.”
“The signing’s over, Wade. There’s no need to pretend back here.”
“Huh. Guess you’re right.” But it took him an extra long beat to remove his hands from her.
And another even longer beat for her to step back from him.
When the meeting was over, the team scattered, everyone off to celebrate. Sam turned to get the hell out of there before she did something stupid. Like offer to be Wade’s celebration.
“Sam.”
Dammit. She quickened her pace, escaping him and making her way through the facility. She got to her office, grabbed her purse, flicked off the lights, and turned to leave…
And slammed into the warm, hard wall of Wade’s chest.
His hands came up to her arms to steady her. “In a hurry?” he asked in that same voice that had urged her to orgasm only yesterday.
God. “Yes, actually. A big hurry.”
Not releasing her, he nodded, nothing more than a shadow in the doorway. “Avoiding anyone in particular?”
“You.”
He laughed softly, his breath ruffling the hair at her temple, which meant he was entirely too close. She stepped back into her dark office, but he merely followed her in.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m not getting into another room alone with you.”
He hit the light switch. He was fresh from the shower he’d grabbed before the meeting, his hair wet and wavy, falling over his forehead and curling around his ears, hitting the collar of his black polo shirt, which was untucked over a pair of cargoes. She had no idea how he looked so damn fine all the time but he did, and she met his gaze, knowing hers was filled with frustration to his amusement. “My clothes are staying on,” she said firmly.
“You trying to convince me, or yourself?”
She refused to answer on the grounds she might incriminate herself. He smelled good, all warm and sexy, and that frustrated her because she wanted to go up on her tiptoes and press her face into his throat and just breathe him in. She wanted to have him inside her again, but she also wanted more. She wanted to be with him, just be… and that terrified her because she was alone in that. “No one’s here. We’re offline.”
“Sam-”
“I mean it, Wade.” She put her hand to her heart but she couldn’t rub the ache away. “You can’t just waltz in here with that low, husky voice and those bedroom eyes, okay? We don’t have to play until the next public outing, and as I’ve already told you, we’re not going to play like we did this weekend.”
“Sam-”
“No. Listen, Wade, please? We had our fun, andit was fun,” she told him, softening, unable to keep the wistfulness out of her voice. “But now I need to be far, far away from you.” Before I rip off your clothes.
His eyes were dark, and had gone serious. “I understand.”
His easy acceptance derailed her. “You do?”
“Yeah. Actually, I just wanted to give you something.” He held out his hand, fisted. Slowly he turned it over and opened his fingers, revealing what he held on his palm.
Oh, God. Her mother’s pin. She took it and brought it to her heart. “Okay, now I feel like a mean, bitchy idiot.”
Wade shook his head. “Definitely not mean. And definitely not an idiot either.”
And as he walked off, he actually left her with a laugh. Because he was right. She was bitchy.
Dammit.
Chapter 13
Progress always involves risks. You can’t steal second base and keep your foot on first.
– Frederick B. Wilcox
Wade walked away from Sam’s office, through the Heat’s huge facility, telling himself to just go home and hit the sack and sleep off this odd sense of restlessness.
It wasn’t his usual MO after a game, especially after a win, but though he was stopped by Joe and Henry, and then Mason, each of them inviting him to several different parties, he didn’t feel like partying.
He didn’t know exactly what he did feel like doing…
Okay, lie. A big, fat lie. He knew exactly what he wanted to be doing, or more correctly, who he wanted to be doing.
One sweet and fiery and sexy Samantha McNead.
He thumbed through his iPhone as he walked the hall, heading out. A hundred and thirty-five unread e-mails. Ignoring most of them, he went straight to the few that mattered. Pace had sent him more pictures from Mark’s wedding, including a different one of Wade and Sam slow dancing. Her back was to the camera. He couldn’t see her expression but her head was cocked up at him, a little tilted.
He most definitely had her attention. He was smiling down into her face, his expression a little too open for his own comfort. He saved the e-mail and moved on to the next, from his father.
I’m breaking out, and thinking of heading south.
His father was free to do whatever the hell he wanted. He wasn’t a prisoner and never had been. But Wade sighed and called the center to check on him and he was promptly assured that John O’Riley was fine and well and still on site, though he had somehow sneaked in a fifth and had gotten the guys on his floor bombed, then proceeded to win more loot from them at poker.
Nothing about this surprised Wade. He apologized to the nurse and hung up, shaking his head.
But it was the next e-mail that really grabbed him-from Sam dated very late last night. Which meant she’d written it after the wedding and he’d somehow missed it earlier. She typed formally as if they hadn’t had each other up against the bathroom wall.
Wade-I need your assistance for the carnival. I’m putting your name on the ticket. If you have a problem with this, please respond. Otherwise I’ll assume you’re onboard.
Samantha McNead, Heat Publicist
He shook his head with a grim smile. Look at her, all professional, being a pain-in-his-ass.
Good strategy. Hell, it was an excellent strategy.
And if he hadn’t watched her come for him, multiple times now, thank you very much, each of those times panting his name like he was the be-all-of-the-end-all, he might have even bought the ploy. “But I’m on to you,” he murmured, and forwarded the picture of the two of them dancing to her. He thumbed in a message to go with it.
Had a great weekend, Sam, pretend or otherwise. I still have your bathroom bag and a sexy little lace bra. You can come get them, or I’ll bring them to you. Oh, and if you have a problem with this, please respond. Otherwise I’ll assume you’re onboard.