Playing for Keeps Read online

  “So let me get this straight,” she said. “At work you run this huge conglomerate and are a well-known venture capitalist with more responsibility than I could ever manage, but at home you’re the baby?”

  “See? Annoying, right?”

  She shook her head. “Still cute.”

  When he grimaced, she smiled. “So how did you go from barely getting by to . . . ?” She waved her free hand up and down, gesturing to—presumably—his suit.

  “I got lucky,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Going to call BS. No one’s that lucky.”

  Giving in to temptation, he brought their joined hands up to his mouth so he could brush a kiss over her knuckles. “Now who’s cute?” he murmured. “And yeah, I do pretty good for myself, but here’s the thing—I didn’t do it alone. I had help along the way. A lot of it. No one does it alone.” Again, he brushed his mouth over her fingers.

  She stared at him, squirming just a little bit. Kind of how Lollipop looked at him when she was both afraid to come out from beneath his bed and yet wanted in his arms badly.

  Caleb Parker, dog whisperer. Hopefully also woman whisperer.

  “Does your mom still work?” she asked.

  “She’s retired now. Three of my sisters work for me, though one’s on maternity leave. My fourth sister’s an intern for me and in grad school back east. My corporation’s big on decent hours and great benefits, so I get to make sure they have a good life after giving me so much of theirs.” He nodded to a table in the far corner of the pub. “My family’s actually here tonight, or some of them anyway. It’s date night.”

  She looked over and he knew what she was seeing. A striking forty-year-old brunette seated next to a handsome black man who was feeding her something off his fork and laughing—Sienne and Niles. Kayla’s baby bump was huge. The man next to her was holding her hand and had a baby strapped to his chest. Hannah was flashing her phone around the table and everyone waved to whoever was on the FaceTime call. And only Emory was missing. She was probably who they were FaceTiming. Or maybe it was his cousin Kel. His sisters loved and adored him.

  “Looks very cozy,” Sadie murmured.

  Caleb laughed. “Do not be fooled by appearances. We might love hard, but we fight just as hard and as often. Give it five minutes and someone will be up in arms about something.”

  “Why aren’t you with them?”

  He held her gaze. “I’m busy.”

  Her breath hitched and she pulled her hand free. “No, don’t let me hold you up. We’re not . . .”

  He went brows up, really wanting to hear her finish that sentence.

  She shook her head, clearly at a loss for words as she waved her hand around. “This is silly.”

  Grabbing her hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “What happened in the alley wasn’t silly.”

  “No kidding.” She touched her fingers to her lips as if she could still feel his kiss.

  He could certainly still feel hers. “Your turn, Tough Girl.”

  Her gaze went from his mouth to his eyes. “What?”

  “Your turn to give me something of you.”

  She blinked. “You know plenty about me.”

  “Actually, I don’t.” He leaned in a little closer. Their thighs touched and he watched her breath catch again. “Give me something,” he murmured. “You owe me now.”

  At that, her eyes went hooded. She pulled back, fished some money from her pocket, and set it on the bar before standing.

  “Running scared?” he asked.

  She stilled and stared at him. “Maybe.”

  Honesty at least, he thought. “I’m not looking for your state secrets.” Yet. “Just tell me . . . something.”

  “Like?” she asked suspiciously.

  He shrugged. “Like . . . what you sing to in the shower. Or your favorite piercing . . .” Reaching up, he ran a finger along the shell of her ear and all the tiny silver rings neatly lined up there that always made him hot. “Tell me what gets you out of bed in the morning. Or what your parents are like, and if you have nosy-ass siblings like I do. Or maybe a secret wish you have that you’ve never fulfilled.”

  She bit her lower lip and he thought oh yeah, he wanted to know her secret wish.

  “Hell, tell me what you watch on TV,” he said. “I don’t care. Just talk to me about you.”

  “Maybe I don’t share like that.”

  “Ever?” he asked.

  “Anymore.”

  He didn’t often get frustrated. It wasn’t in his nature, and plus he usually didn’t care enough to get there. But according to his current level of frustration, he cared more than he wanted to admit. “My turn to call BS,” he said on a rough laugh. “We share a dog. We shared a moment in the alley that included a kiss, a pretty great one. And I shared about my oddball family—more than I ever do with a woman, by the way—simply because you asked. You asked, Sadie,” he repeated. “And now I’m asking.”

  She paused. “I need to rephrase. I can’t do this. We’re not going down the road you seem to think we are.”

  “And which road is that?”

  She looked away, glancing over at his family. “I’m not the white picket fence, two point five kids, soccer mom kind of woman,” she said quietly. “And I think you know that.”

  “What I know,” he said, standing to meet her toe-to-toe, “is that a week ago I’d have laughed at the thought of having enough time in my life for a dog. Or a woman.” He ran his fingers along her jaw. “Now I find myself making time for both.”

  “Your point?” she asked.

  “My point is that maybe you’ll surprise yourself and find that you want to make time too.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t,” she whispered.

  It seemed like an automatic denial. It also seemed like maybe she regretted it the moment it left her mouth, but though he waited, she didn’t take it back.

  He’d struck out. He didn’t want to accept that, but he knew enough about stubborn women to know when to push and when to fold. So he handed her money back to her, dropped his own to cover their drinks and the fries, and walked away instead of pressing. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted Sadie. She was a calculated risk, and though he’d been a huge risk taker all his life, banking on Sadie being willing to face her emotions was a loser’s bet.

  Chapter 12

  #ScrewUpBigOrNotAtAll

  Sadie and Lollipop took the bus home and stayed up late cuddling for some badly needed body heat and equally badly needed affection.

  It was another chilly night, but Sadie hadn’t wanted to sleep at the Canvas Shop tonight. Tonight, she’d wanted her own space. So she’d turned on the heat, promising herself she’d cut something out of her budget to make up for it. She didn’t yet know what that would be, but she’d figure it out. She always did.

  She and Lollipop shared the couch. Sadie was pretending to be thinking about her financial situation, playing with the numbers. For instance, if she stopped eating, she could keep the heat on.

  But she was just fooling herself. She wasn’t thinking about money. She was thinking about Caleb. She’d walked away from him. No, scratch that. She’d let him walk away from her.

  A part of her had felt a surge of righteousness when he had. There, see, she’d told herself, you did it, you ruined it like you knew you would. Better now than later . . .

  But the righteousness had faded, replaced by a cold grip on her windpipe.

  She’d pushed him away.

  The panic had started right around the time their conversation had taken them to a place she hadn’t intended to go. It seemed so easy for him to just be . . . him. He had no problem sharing about himself, he had no hidden shame and little to hide.

  But she had plenty of hidden shame and lots to hide.

  She wanted to think she could keep most of that to herself and still have him, but she’d realized while listening to his story that she couldn’t. He’d never accept less than everything from her.