“Good fun,” Tag repeated, rolling to his back on the couch, grinning up at Sam. “Pace called Wade a dickhead-”
Wade leaned over the couch and covered the kid’s mouth with his hand. “Do you remember what I told you?”
“Uh-huh. Not to repeat any of the bad words I heard tonight. Our secret. But I didn’t think dickheadis a bad word. Everyone says it in the clubhouse and stuff.”
Sam looked at Wade in time to catch a guilty grimace as he swiped a hand down his face.
“I won’t tell the rest,” Tag promised.
Again Sam looked at Wade.
Wade just shook his head.
“The good news?” Sam asked him.
“We already dealt with the sugar high,” Wade said. “He’s on his way down now.”
“Tired,” Tag agreed, his eyes drooping at half mast. As he yawned nearly wider than his head, Wade scooped him back up in a fireman’s hold, much to Tag’s tired amusement. Catching Sam staring, Wade raised his brow in question. “Where do you want him?”
“In here.” She’d gotten a suite so Tag would have a room of his own. She opened the door and turned down the bed.
Wade flopped him on the mattress, then pulled off Tag’s shoes and sweatshirt, brushing against Sam as he did, smelling warm and sexy.
She needed to get a grip.
Tag was already out like a light. She pulled the covers up to his chin, then stroked a strand of hair off his forehead. She should have made him brush his teeth, especially with all the sugar he’d consumed. Maybe she should wake him up-
Wade took her hand in his and pulled her from the room. He shut the door and gave her an amused look.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re getting more comfortable with him.”
“Funny thing about ten-year-olds. It’s hard to keep your distance.”
“Yeah, especially with that one. He’s got a way of worming right in.” He pressed a hand over his heart. “Here.”
She worked at not melting and failed miserably. “Are you just trying to butter me up?”
“No, I’m not crazy about butter. I’ll whip-cream you up though. Anytime.”
She shook her head even as her knees wobbled at the thought. “Can you be serious?”
“If I have to be.” He lifted a shoulder. “I like the kid.”
Simple. Easily admitted. No angst over the admission. Well, wasn’t he just free with his emotions lately? “It’s easy to like him,” she said. “It’s not so easy to be responsible for him.”
“It’s not supposed to be easy, but you’re doing great. You’re falling for him. No, don’t be embarrassed,” he said, tugging her around when she tried to walk away, holding on to her, dipping his knees a little, to look into her face. “It’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“Sexy, too.”
She had to laugh. “How is me caring for Tag sexy?”
“Hell, I don’t know, Sam. Everything you do is sexy to me.”
She felt her body react to his words and crossed her arms. “Okay, you know what? You need to stop talking. And-” she said quickly, when he took a step into her, the intent in his heated gaze quite clear. “No sex either.”
“How about just fooling around? We could just feel each other up.” He ran a hand down her arm and then settled it on her hip, his fingers slipping beneath her shirt to graze bare skin. “That’s not technically sex, right? I could still call for that whipped cream.”
Tempting as that thought might be, she shook her head. “You’re leaving.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. He’d known that. He’d been messing with her. “Have dinner with me when we get home.” He took his hand on a tour upward, over her ribs, gently gliding over her breast.
“W-what?”
“Dinner.” His thumb teased her nipple into a tight bead. “It comes after lunch. We have a game tomorrow night, so how about the day after, back in Santa Barbara? After our Houston game.”
“Wade.”
“Sam.”
His other hand joined his first under her shirt, and she shivered in pleasure. “J-just dinner?”
“For now. We’ll wing the rest.”
“You’re good at that, but I’m not.”
Something came and went in his eyes, so fast that she thought maybe she’d imagined it-regret? “Stop thinking so much,” he said softly. “Let one area of your life just happen. Dinner,” he repeated. “Dinner, because I like food and I like you. And you like me, too. It’s what two people in like do, they go out to dinner.”
“Fine. But no elevators, Wade. No bathrooms. And no backseats.”
“Tag’s right. You sure have a lot of rules.” But with a small smile, he leaned in and kissed her, a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss that lingered long after she’d locked the door behind him, making her ache just a little as she wondered how nice it would be if there was no rules at all.
Thanks in part to his own ninth-inning catch at the plate, Wade assisted the Heat to a satisfying win the next day. After the game, he sat with some of the guys at the hotel bar in front of a flat screen enjoying a few beers. They were flipping between basketball and wrestling when a group of well-dressed women showed up and started flirting.
And then began the silent pair-off as his teammates settled into a different kind of game for the evening. Wade used to be the king of that game but tonight, as he had for months now, he held back because his idea of fun was eight floors up, working on her laptop and hanging out with her nephew.
Still, one of the women playfully asked him to autograph the napkin her drink had been set on, and then she took the pen from him and settled a hand on his. Turning it over, she wrote her number on his palm. He had no idea why so many women did this, if they thought it was unique or what, but she was looking at him, soft and willing, waiting for a sign that he might actually use her number when a familiar female voice spoke from over his shoulder.
“Sorry. He’s already got the only number he needs tonight.”
Wade looked up into Sam’s steely gaze just as someone in the bar took a picture, making them all grimace at the unexpected flash.
The woman with the pen smiled with some chagrin and moved away to join her friends.
Wade smiled up at Sam. “Sit with me.”
“I have a meeting with Gage and then I’m going back to Tag. You do know that picture will show up all over the Internet tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. My protective girlfriend, saving me from myself.”
She shook her head and walked off. Wade sipped his drink, watching her go, thinking how radically things had changed for him, that for the first time in his life he was the one being walked away from.
The next morning the picture of Sam standing over Wade indeed appeared everywhere, the reports claiming she’d been possessive, protective, and gorgeous with it.
The guys loved it.
Wade did as well.
But Sam appeared to hate it, and ignored anyone who teased her about it, including Wade.
Back at home, the Heat played Houston. Wade loved a home crowd, and today’s was particularly, satisfyingly rambunctious. The Heat trailed by one for the first five innings, then erupted for seven runs in the bottom of the sixth to take a twelve-eight lead. Wade took a hard kick to the thigh in a home slide by the Astros center fielder but with no other mishaps, they held the Astros scoreless in the eighth and ninth innings, and took the win.
Afterwards, Wade limped into the clubhouse thinking he’d slap on a little Icy Hot and be good to go for his date with his crazy, jealous, gorgeous girlfriend tonight. After a shower, he sat on the bench in front of his opened locker, hurting but happy. The guys were messing around on either side of him, still high on adrenaline, planning some fun for the night ahead.
“You coming with?” Joe asked.
“Got a date,” Wade said.
“Catch up with us when you’re done.”
There’d been many nights when he’d done just that, gone out with a woman, had his fun, then joined up with the guys. But tonight, he had a feeling the only person getting kicked to the curb would be him.