“Philly?” she said softly.
“Yeah, why?”
“I live in Pennsylvania. In Bryn Mawr,” she answered, and as she did, awareness sparked in her eyes. “I knew you looked familiar. I just couldn’t place you. You play for the Flyers,” she stated.
David’s smile broadened as he nodded.
In one motion, he pushed her book to the floor and had her under him. “So much for a one night stand.” So much for the nice, safe personal life he’d modeled for himself.
“Yeah,” she said.
They’d gotten along great, and David thought she’d be happy, but instead Kate bit her lip and looked away. “Kate? You do want to see me again, don’t you?”
She looked back and her eyes brightened, showing him a lightening in her mood, and betraying her desire. She wanted him. That had to be a good sign. Her hands held his head and she kissed him on the mouth—once, twice, three times. The fourth kiss almost made him forget his own name.
“I want to see you again, but things could be complicated,” she whispered.
“Whatever, we’ll talk about it later.” His mouth covered hers and they started all over.
*
Lying on the bed where she and David had made love an hour before, Kate clutched the pillow where his head had been and snuggled in. He’d taken her number, given her his, and promised she’d hear from him in a few days.
Kate giggled. Talk about a great birthday present. She’d had more orgasms in one night than she’d had in twenty years with her ex. God, she missed David already. But thinking about it, it was more than the sex—it was the ease of the whole night. From dinner to the bedroom, being with him was relaxed and fun. Kate had no idea what she’d been missing until last night. Rolling on her back and taking his pillow with her, she thought about it. She missed his laughter, the deep timbre of his voice—she missed his touch. Breathing deep, she caught a whiff of his scent. God, she hoped she saw him again.
And if she did, she’d tell him.
Not that her age was a big deal. It shouldn’t be, but it could be uncomfortable for him. And there was her daughter to consider. Even if David was all right with the age thing, he may not be able to cope with the fact that Kate had a seventeen-year-old daughter.
For that matter, Kate wondered how her daughter would deal with the fact that her mother had slept with David Burke, the man whose poster hung on her bedroom wall.
*
David settled into the wide seat on the team’s charter. The guys were tired so the lights were dim, and a just smattering of conversation could be heard in the cabin. Players were either reading, listening to music, or settling in to get some sleep. But not him. His shoulder and knee ached, and his mind kept drifting back to Kate. And how after only twenty-four hours, he missed her.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to get her face out of his head. When one image of her faded, another one took its place. He saw her on the deck wiping at her eyes, at dinner listening to him like he really mattered, talking about her work, sleeping after they’d made love. He was trying to remember the last time a woman got inside his head like this. The answer: Never.
He was almost thirty and wondered if it was possible that “the right girl” had finally crossed his path. He looked around the cabin. Most of the guys his age were married, or at least serious about someone. Here he was, still bouncing from one girl to another and winding up in the local gossip pages as often as he was in the sports pages. It sucked.
He’d taken a lot of shit from his teammates when he wouldn’t give up any details of his time with Kate, forcing him to accept losing the bet. He looked to his right. His teammate, Cam Roth, had a smug grin on his face and David knew he was in for it again. He didn’t care.
“What?”
“I owe you this.” Cam extended a folded hundred dollar bill and David waved it off.
“Keep it,” he said.
“Seriously? We all know you won.” Cam tucked the cash back into his wallet. “Did you grow a conscience or something?”
“I don’t feel right about the bet. She’s nice. I like her.”
“I cannot believe you got her in bed. She looked a little on the cool side.”
Chuckling under his breath, David knew Kate was anything but. “Not cool at all. We clicked. But that’s all I’m saying.”
“Come on!” Cam pleaded.
David shook his head and Cam nodded, resigned, as he leaned back into his seat. David thought about where his friend’s life was going. At thirty-seven, his career was winding down. He’d given up his “C” this season, and David had assumed the responsibilities of captain, but his old friend and mentor still drove hard every time he was on the ice. He did the same with women. David wondered if that’s where he was going to be in seven years. Could he ever settle down?
“You okay, Padre?”
“Yeah. She’s just in my head, that’s all.”
“Mind blowing, eh?”
David thought about that. Kate was mind blowing, but not in the way Cam meant it. It was something else. Something intangible. It was in the way she looked at him. The way he felt when he touched her, kissed her. He liked being with her, and it wasn’t just about the sex. He could lose himself in her—in her softness, in her intelligence, in her genuine sweetness. But it was the strength he saw along with the vulnerability, something so powerful it was scaring him shitless, that made David realize this woman, if he let the relationship go any further, would completely own him.
And then there was the book thing.
“Yeah, mind blowing… on a lot of levels.”
Cam raised an eyebrow. “Levels?”
He wasn’t surprised his friend asked the question, but he didn’t know how much he wanted to give up. So, David looked around the cabin for the part of the explanation he could share without sounding like a candy ass. “Hold on,” he said before he called out, “Yo, Graves. Toss me that book.”
Tyler Graves looked at David for a second, then lobbed the book that had been in his lap across the aisle and back a few rows. David grabbed it cleanly from the air and showed it to Cam.
“She wrote this.” David flipped the paperback over and the entire back cover was imprinted with Kate’s gorgeous face.
Cam grabbed the book and looked at the image, then at the cover. “Ho-ly shit. I actually read this.” He looked David square in the eyes. “She’s fuckin’ famous.”
“I know.”
Cam laughed out loud. “Did you get her to autograph your ass, man?”
“You are such a dumb shit.” David grabbed the book and looked at the picture again.
“Hey, chicks ask me to autograph body parts all the time!”
David heard the growl come deep from his throat. This could get complicated, and her fame was only part of it.
And that was what unnerved him; he didn’t need the complications a woman like Kate would bring. She’d want a real relationship. He didn’t need a relationship. He hadn’t been turned down for a date or sex for as long as he could remember—usually he didn’t even have to ask. Most women were more than willing and eager to keep things casual. They’d put on the act, play the games, but they were always available. The current woman in his life made it very clear she was going to sleep with him, and did him following their first dinner together. She was the gorgeous, blonde, twenty-three-year-old daughter of a surgeon. The difference with her was that since he’d been seeing her, and sleeping with her, more regularly than the others, she’d started hinting at making things permanent, and at that moment David realized he had to let her know it wasn’t going to happen.
No doubt, Chelsea would be the perfect trophy wife; she was a hot piece of ass and possessed the common sense of a breast implant. But David didn’t want a trophy. Until Kate, he didn’t think he wanted anything but a warm body. The whole situation made him realize just how far he’d dropped on the personal relationship scale. There had always been plenty of women, lots of great sex, but no one who actually cared about him.
Kate would care. He had no doubt about that. What he didn’t know is if he was up to it. Or if she was interested.