Slow Heat Read online

  Chapter 20

  Baseball isn’t a business, it’s more like a disease.

  —Walter F. O’Malley

  The next morning the Heat left early for a trip to Colorado to play the Rockies. Sam brought Tag and his tutor, and on the plane, Tag pulled out his schoolwork. Sam ostensibly did paperwork herself, but in reality she stared out the window and thought about the night before.

  The carnival had been an undeniable success business-wise. Personally? She wasn’t as sure. She and Tag had managed to turn their misunderstanding into a positive thing, or so she hoped. She felt like he’d let her get closer to him.

  Wade had certainly let her get closer as well. So close she still bore the whisker burns on her breasts and between her thighs.

  He’d been there for her, from soothing her raw nerves to making her forget the panic with mind-blowing sex. Hell, he’d made her forget her own name.

  But she still didn’t know what to do with that.

  In Colorado, game one, Wade delivered a pinch-hit, two-run, walk-off triple, capping a three-run ninth to give the Heat a series-opening win, three-two.

  Afterwards in the hotel, the team ate together at the bar. It was a good crowd, easygoing and laid-back, the mood mellow and relaxed.

  Sam did her job, moving between tables, making nice with the few reporters that were around, keeping one eye on Tag, who was once again with Santos’s boys. The mood was fun and jubilant. They’d won today’s game, the fans were happy, and so were their sponsors, so much so that Wade’s face was currently once again all over the country’s most popular cereal boxes these days. She caught little pieces of the conversations going on all around her, most of it about Wade.

  “. . . He’s been phenomenal lately . . .”

  “. . . Amazingly pinpoint with his control, commanding both sides of the plate . . .”

  “. . . Strategized the perfect game plan, and executed it . . .”

  She absorbed it all and felt a warm sense of pride for him, knowing he worked his ass off and had earned it. And yeah, maybe she couldn’t take her eyes off him—

  “Nice job on the pretending,” Gage said, coming up next to Sam. “It’s hardly noticeable at all that you’re staring at him.”

  “Just doing my job,” she quipped.

  “Sam.”

  She knew that tone, that soft but undeniably authoritative tone, the one that said, “Talk to me.” When he used that voice, most people willingly spilled their guts. He had the power that way. And thanks to his Latin father and supermodel mother, he really was almost too gorgeous to look at this close. “Is it still pretending?” he asked, his dark eyes solemn, concerned.

  “A little late to ask me that now, isn’t it?”

  “It’s never too late.”

  She looked at Wade, who was surrounded by the other players, all laughing and having a good time. Wade was smiling but his eyes were . . . locked on Sam. “Actually,” she whispered to Gage, her gaze held prisoner. “This time it is.”

  “A picture,” one reporter called out, and gestured for her to move closer to Wade’s table. “To show that the mighty Wade O’Riley is still off the market.”

  Wade stood and took Sam’s hand, smiling that warm just-for-her smile. It momentarily caught her off balance, a situation he took full advantage of by sitting back down and pulling her into his lap, cupping her face and kissing her softly.

  “Thanks,” the reporter said with a laugh after he’d gotten the shot. “You guys are great sports.”

  Wade pulled back slowly, eyes on Sam. “My pleasure.”

  Yeah, she thought shakily, feeling his hands on her back, one slipping low enough to cup her ass beneath the table. Her pleasure, too. And wasn’t that just the problem.

  It wasn’t pretend.

  And in less than two weeks, it’d be done.

  Not letting herself go there, she moved out of the bar and into the hallway to check her messages, only to go still as she felt someone come up behind her and stand close enough to share body heat. Since her nipples hardened, she knew exactly who it was.

  “Guess who?” He ran a finger over her shoulder.

  She bit back the soft sigh of pleasure. “Oh, Gage.”

  Wade let out a choked laugh and whipped her around to face him.

  She arched a daring brow. They hadn’t been alone since he’d gotten her naked in her backseat at the carnival. It didn’t bode well that she felt like dragging him into the closest closet now for a repeat performance. “Nice game today,” she said “Actually, fantastic game today, but I’m mad at you, and you know why.”

  That had him blinking. “Maybe you could remind me.”

  “You guilted me into getting into that dunking booth, and while I sat up there terrified I was going to get dunked, you were paying people off.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She couldn’t help it, it was a damn fine mouth. “You could have told me.”

  “What, that I was never going to let you get dunked?” He tugged her in hard against him. “Which, by the way, was a luxury you didn’t afford me. When I took my turn after you, I got dunked twenty-seven times. I still have water in my ear.” He held her, his warm hands stroking up and down her back. “So is that what you’re really mad at, or is it the fact that I told you I was falling for you?”

  “That,” she said shakily, dropping her forehead to his chest. “Most definitely that. People don’t just . . . fall.”

  His hand came up and cupped the nape of her neck. “Sure they do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Ah.” He said this very gently and brushed his jaw to hers. He smelled like a million bucks, and was warm and strong and so sure. “Maybe it’d help if you loosened up a little bit. Give your heart some rein to fly free.” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Just let go and see where it takes you.”

  She realized she was leaning into him like he was her own personal support beam. She tipped her head up and stared at him. Just let go? See where it took her? No worrying about the two week expiration date? She understood that was pretty much his life’s motto, but she’d never worked like that.

  “I can be lots of be fun,” he coaxed with a brow wriggle that suggested much of that fun might be had naked.

  She had to laugh. He was right. Loosening up and flying free would be fun. Of that, she had no doubt.

  But what about after the fun was over?

  “I’ve met some of your family,” he said. “They’re all pretty intense guys, so I’m guessing fun men aren’t exactly familiar to you, but you should give me a try.”

  “I’ve gone out with plenty of fun men.” She’d done so in a purposeful attempt to find the polar opposite of the doggedly aggressive men she’d grown up with.

  “And?”

  “And nothing worked out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because their fun always won over substance.”

  “Common mistake, but you’re armed with knowledge now. Give it a try. Kiss me, Sam. I’ll show you what I mean. I’ve got plenty of substance.”

  Uh-huh. And some of that substance was currently pressing into her belly. With an ache of need drumming through her, she fisted her hands in his shirt, her gaze still locked on his mouth.

  With a smile, he bent his head and kissed her. It involved tongue, lots of tongue, and heat slashed through her. She moaned and—

  “Ew.”

  With a gasp, she pushed free and twisted around to face Tag, who stood there watching them.

  “Kinda gross,” he said, and went into the boy’s restroom.

  Above her, she sensed Wade smiling. “This isn’t funny,” she said.

  “You’re right. It’s nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “I get the feeling Tag’s view on relationships is pretty fucked up. Having him see two people who have feelings for each other is good for him.”

  She stared up at him, wondering why the fact that he so obviously care