Playing for Kicks (Play Makers Book 5) (20 page)

He stepped back, looked her up and down, then
nodded. “You look amazing.”

“So do you.”

Clearly inspired, he wrapped an arm around
her waist and led her to the middle of the floor, then pulled her
against himself, his breath on her neck. They had been like this
during the best of the make-out session the night before, but she
wasn’t tipsy now so she knew she should protest.

But he felt so good, and they had two
chaperones, didn’t they? Not that Erica really counted.

The song that was playing—“Take It to the
Limit” by the Eagles—was one of her all-time favorites. So
romantic. Almost poignant. Without thinking, she murmured, “I love
this song so much.”

“Yeah, it’s great. We had this band in high
school, my friends and me, and this was one of our standards.”

“You were in a band?”

“Yeah. It was fun. I played guitar.”

“Of course you did,” she drawled. “And you
probably
sang,
too? Honestly, Sean, just stop it.”

“Stop what?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I
mean.”

His eyes twinkled. “What’s this thing about
living in the moment?”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Johnny’s so sweet
to try and understand it. Erica too. But you? I think you’ll really
get it.”

“He said it’s like savoring the moment.”

“That’s close, but savoring still requires
effort. If you’re
really
in the moment, it just washes over
you. Like a breeze.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he
didn’t say anything, so she continued as they swayed together.
“Almost everyone I know is so forward-looking, for lack of a better
term. Eager for the next challenge. And I get it. I personally
can’t wait to finish my article. And for you it’s even better.
Winning a second Super Bowl, right? We have a
million
reasons to look ahead. But when we do that, we miss something.”

They were barely moving now, almost
hypnotized, and she knew she had to keep talking or she’d do
something crazy. So she told him in a soft, throaty voice, “If we
let everything else fall away. All the good and bad from the past.
All the fears and promise of the future. Then we’re left with
this.
You and me. Right here, right now. Such a perfect
moment, but if we’re not careful, we’ll miss it.” Slipping her hand
up the back of his neck and running her fingers through his hair,
she said almost plaintively, “I don’t want to miss it, Sean.”

She expected him to agree, maybe even kiss
her, but instead he said as though completely inspired, “Is that
what you were doing that first night? On John’s deck? Living in the
moment? It was
awesome,
Tess.”

“What?” She pulled back, honestly shocked.
Did he attribute that Tantric stuff to
her?
Like
she
had been coming on to
him?
An engaged guy she just met?

And didn’t they have an unspoken agreement
never to mention it? Much less throw it in each other’s faces?

So she sputtered, “I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“Hey, babe—”

“Don’t.” She tried to glare and failed, so
she settled for gesturing helplessly, then turned her back on him
and hurried to the table.

• • •

Sean knew he should go after her, but
instead, he just stared, fascinated. The look on her face—in her
huge blue eyes—had resonated with him, mostly because he felt the
same emotions so recently. Like a wild horse when it realized some
smooth-talking rancher had lured it into a box canyon. He had
always felt sorry for the animals at those moments, but hadn’t
really understood the sensation until he hooked up with Kerrie and
felt cornered. Trapped. Literally helpless.

And for Tess it had to be worse. Unlike Sean,
who was domesticated at heart, she was a free spirit. Keeping it
light, hanging with her friends, living in the moment. Maybe she
wanted marriage and children one day but she wasn’t in a hurry,
whereas Sean had wanted it to some degree his whole life,
especially when he saw how happy his QB was with Erica. Even
Bannerman—a supposed barbarian—had found that kind of happiness
with Rachel.

So Sean had tried to
make
it happen
with Kerrie, and learned what Tess apparently knew instinctively.
Or maybe she had learned it by observing breakups from behind the
bar. Either way, she was careful—full-on
skittish,
actually—when it came to protecting her freedom.

Luckily, she also seemed to recover quickly,
so he wasn’t actually worried when he took the empty seat beside
her at the table. “Hey.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said
primly. “Because there’s nothing to talk about.”

“I agree.”

Johnny’s voice growled from behind him.
“You’re in my seat.”

He swiveled to assure him, “I need it more
than you do.”

“The problem is, we told Tess this wasn’t a
date. Meaning you weren’t supposed to hit on her.”

“Actually,
I’m
the one who hit on
him,”
Tess interjected, her smile sheepish.

The QB pretended to glare. “Yeah, I
noticed.”

“I noticed, too,” Erica chimed in from the
far side of the table. Then she patted the seat beside her in
invitation to her husband.

With balance restored, Sean turned back to
Tess and asked as casually as possible, “Are you still driving to
Seattle tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I’m having dinner with Ed—the
editor—and his wife. And the cats.”

“We should get going then. I’ll get the
check.”

“I already covered the bill,” Johnny
grumbled. “And
we’ll
take Tess home.”

“Bad news, big fella,” Tess said with a
laugh. “Sean promised me an ice cream cone, so he gets the
nod.”

Johnny chuckled. “I’m trying to run
interference here.”

“And I love you for it. But I love ice cream
more.”

And just like that, Sean realized why he
couldn’t resist her. Because she really
did
live in the
moment. No melodrama, no angst. Sure, she had been bothered by what
he said on the dance floor. No doubt about that. But she had let it
go because that was her way.

And it had been Sean’s way too, hadn’t it?
Once upon a time?

Now it was coming back—washing over
him—thanks to Tess. Combine that with the throaty voice, the
teasing smile, the dynamite body, and he was hooked.

She was already saying good-bye to their
friends so he chimed in then followed her toward the exit, catching
up with her in time to get the door.

“Hey, Tess?” he murmured when they stepped
into the cool evening air.

She looked up at him, her eyes so wide, so
blue, so filled with trust, he abandoned his first question and
moved on to what mattered most. “Soft-serve or the old-fashioned
kind?”

“I haven’t had
real
ice cream in
weeks, so old-fashioned if that’s okay. Hopefully fudge brownie but
I’m flexible.”

“So am I,” he assured her warmly. “And the
good news is: I know just the place.”

• • •

“You know all the best food places,” Tess
confirmed as she finished her cone. They were just pulling onto the
meandering drive that led to the hotel and she wondered what would
happen next. He had been attentive and fun but hadn’t tried to kiss
her during the ice cream run, which almost made sense. That scene
on the dance floor had confused them both—Tess because he had
accused
her
of being the Tantric aggressor, and Sean because
she had denied it ever happened in the first place.

Instead of pulling up to the lobby doors, he
chose a ten-minute parking place a distance from the front
entrance, parked, and came around to open her door. When she
stepped out to face him, he grinned. “I’m still not used to this
new height.”

“Blame Erica for picking a fancy place. I’ll
be back in tennies from now on.”

He hesitated, and for a moment she thought he
was going to forgo the kiss. But he was Sean, so he couldn’t help
himself.

And apparently she couldn’t either since she
kissed him back the same way. Easy-going but intimate. No tongue,
but still arousing the hell out of them. And endless this time, or
so it seemed until he finally came up for air.

The heat in his eyes made her want to stuff
him in the backseat of the Mercedes and re-live their Martini Night
passion. But she kept her head and told him, “I’d better get
inside. Thanks for the ice cream.”

He licked his lips as though measuring his
next words carefully. “There’s a lot going on these next few weeks.
Two mini-camps, a three-week school clinic I’m giving with John for
high school players, then training camp.”

“When are you supposed to
sleep?”

“Things got compressed since they didn’t
officially hire Riga until the end of May, so the powers that be
cut us some slack, since all the players wanted it that way.” His
smile grew hopeful. “Once it starts, I’ll be busy all day and
dragging at night. So we should hang out a lot next week, okay? To
talk about shoes.”

“Are the mini-camps in Portland? Or back in
Eugene?”

“We’re staying here, thank God. So we can
still get together at night. But the days will be a bitch.”

“I shouldn’t be goofing off so much anyway,”
she murmured. “Murf lent me the suite to write articles, not
improve my social life.”

He arched a teasing eyebrow. “I’m an
improvement?”

“Over the cats and the bobble heads?
Definitely.”

“I’m just being practical,” he said, his tone
more seductive than persuasive. “You need to see the shoes before
you can finish the article, don’t you?”

She touched his jaw. “I feel like we’re
blurring the lines again. Between hanging out and interviewing and
dating. Let’s not do that, okay?”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “You’re in
total control of the lines, I promise.”

“What if I say: no more kissing?”

“No problem. From now on, I won’t kiss you
unless you want me to.”

“Well, we both know I want you to,” she
grumbled. “So
that
can’t be the test.”

“Yeah . . .” He pulled her close again,
his lips teasing at hers. Drawing her in. Getting her more and more
excited.

“You’d better settle down,” she said in a
throaty whisper. “And I need to get inside so I can make some
notes.”

“Notes about us?”

When she pretended not to hear him, he
nuzzled her ear and said, “Have tacos with me Tuesday night.”

She wanted to have a lot more than tacos with
him, but settled for saying, “Fine. I’ll meet you there. Thanks
again for the ice cream.”

“My pleasure.”

“Yes,” she drawled, “I know.”

When he laughed, she laughed too. Then after
insisting she could walk alone to the hotel, she strolled away,
conscious of his eyes on her, and pleased by it even though it
didn’t make sense.

Football starts soon,
she reminded
herself with a guilty smile.
And you’ll be moving back to
Seattle in a few weeks. So it’ll take care of itself, won’t
it?

• • •

She didn’t wake up until nine the next
morning, and only because her phone rang.

She blamed Sean for torturing her imagination
all night, first because she had made notes—AKA doodles—for hours
and then because she dreamed about him.

Now she grabbed for the phone, sure it was
him, but it was Patrick Murphy, announcing in a booming voice,
“It’s all set up for Tuesday. I know you usually have lunch with
Erica that day, but it works for Alexi. And Noah’s free on
Wednesday. So I’m hoping you can make it happen.”

Shaking her head to chase away the fog, she
murmured, “You know about our Tuesday lunches?”

“Everyone does,” he told her with a laugh.
“We have orders from John not to screw things up. But we’ve got to
get this done. So I’m hoping you and Erica can reschedule. I’ve
arranged first-class seats out of Portland, but just say the word
and we can do it out of Seattle instead. Whatever works for
you.”

“Seattle works better, since I’ll be up there
for a Monday shift,” she said, adding more briskly, “So I’ll fly to
Dallas on Tuesday and meet with Alexi Romanov? And then see Noah on
Wednesday, then fly back to Seattle? That sounds great, Murf.”

“You’ll have dinner with my family Tuesday
night. Emily’s dying to meet you. And you can stay with us or I can
get you a room. Probably a room, right? Scratch that, I’m getting
you a room.”

“Perfect. I’m dying to meet your family, but
I snore like a grizzly bear. So this works for everyone.”

He chuckled. “My secretary will email the
details. And I’ll pick you up at the airport. Any questions?”

“No, but I might need some one-on-one time
with you if you don’t mind. To brainstorm the Noah interview.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“No, I’m just so grateful. And I’m having
dinner with Ed and Marie today so I’ll be sure to tell him
everything you’re doing.”

“Give them my love. See you at the airport,
kid.”

She stared at the silent phone.

No wonder he’s the puppet master. Who could
challenge him?

Rolling out of bed, she tripped over her open
sketchbook and had to smile. There was Sean. So adorable in his
stick-figure armor with his X-Caliber sword in hand.

“You are so, so smitten,” she scolded herself
as she placed the book back on the bed then headed to the bathroom.
“Get it together, will you?”

After a quick shower, she made a
banana-and-orange protein shake, then reminded herself she needed
to re-schedule book club with Erica.

And since she had promised to have tacos with
Sean, she needed to re-schedule that too, which was a slightly more
complicated problem. If she drove to Seattle today to have dinner
with Ed and Marie, then worked her usual shifts, then flew to
Dallas on Tuesday, she wouldn’t see Sean again until at least
Wednesday. Probably Thursday. Which felt like an eternity. Even
worse, it only gave them three days to “hang out” before her
next
Sunday-Monday shift. Meanwhile, mini-camps and clinics
would start.