Playing for Kicks (Play Makers Book 5) (27 page)

She rolled her eyes. “It’s more than that.
But less too, obviously. Because we barely know each other. And I’m
leaving soon. And you’re still working through your issues. So
obviously, no sex.”

“Got it. Any other rules?”

She paused as the waitress brought their
meals. Soup for Tess, four tacos and soup for Sean. Then she told
him, “I guess it sounds silly to you. But to me it makes
sense.”

“Hell, yeah. As long as I get to pick you
up.”

She watched as he attacked his food with
gusto. Like he was the happiest man on earth. She would have mocked
him for it if she wasn’t feeling so good herself.

So she concentrated on her soup, explaining
between mouthfuls, “Both Eds have quizzed me about spending so much
time in Portland. I’ve been blaming it on the article, but it’s
obviously about
you,
too
.
So that’s an advantage
right there. That I can be honest with them.”

Sean seemed surprised. “You’re gonna tell
them we’re buffer dating? It sounds kinda dirty, babe.”

Soup spurted from her mouth but luckily none
of it hit him, so she laughed sheepishly and said, “Thanks for the
heads-up. Maybe I’ll just tell them I’m seeing someone but it isn’t
serious.”

“Should I tell the guys? Or just stick with
the old story? I’m good either way,” he assured her. “I don’t care
what we call it, Tess. I’m just glad it works for you. Because it
definitely works for me.”

“It works for me, too.”

He hesitated, then gave her a mischievous
smile. “Come here for a minute.”

“Pardon?”

He patted his lap. “I just need a
minute.”

“For what?” Intimidated, she surveyed the
rest of the diners. But no one was looking, so she joined him,
settled lightly on his lap, then looped one arm around his neck,
trying to ignore the Tantric vibe. “We need to pace ourselves,
Romeo.”

“We need to celebrate,” he corrected her.
“Let’s go to a show.”

“A show? Is that farm-boy talk for going to
the movies?”

“It’s a ranch, not a farm,” he said, his
chuckle vibrating through her. “But yeah, that’s the plan. There’s
a new
Avengers
out. Or you can pick something else.”

“I love the
Avengers,”
she admitted.
“Are we really going to watch the movie? Because I don’t make out
in theaters. Not even with football players.”

“We’ll watch the show, I promise. Then we’ll
get ice cream.”

Charmed, she scooted back to her seat to
finish her soup. She had assumed he’d just drop her back at the
hotel. Kiss her good night. Then she would take off for Seattle, he
would concentrate on mini-camp on Monday, and they would get back
together at some point to make an actual plan.

Instead, they were already buffer dating.
Thanks to her farm-boy boyfriend.

• • •

True to his word, Sean behaved himself during
the movie, but with a sexy twist that kept her blushing and
laughing as he repeatedly pressed his lips to her ear, sometimes
her neck, pretending to ask clueless questions about the plot but
actually sending tingles through her aroused body.

“I thought that guy died,” he would whisper
innocently.

Or, “Don’t you think Bam could play the Hulk
better than this dude?”

Or her favorite about the Black Widow, “She’s
pretty, but not as pretty as you.”

At one point, she completely lost track of
the plot, thanks to his hot breath. She almost wished he would
actually kiss her, but the guy was a master, so she was so worked
up by the end of the “show,” she pulled him out of the theater
before the credits even began to roll.

“What happened to just watching the movie?”
she demanded when they reached the parking lot and he backed her
against his car.

“I couldn’t follow it. Good thing you’re so
smart.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Settle down,
Romeo. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know. I just like you.” He nuzzled
her amorously.

“Mmm . . .” She wrapped her arms around
his neck “You were born for buffer dating.”

“Yeah, it’s fun as hell.” He kissed her, then
arched a wistful eyebrow. “So you’re not back until Tuesday?”

“Right. Just in time for lunch with Erica.
Should I ask her if she and Johnny want to have dinner with
us?”

“On Tuesday? No way. How about another show?
I’ll try to keep up this time.”

She giggled. “My heart can’t take it. But we
could get the ice cream cones you promised me. Then maybe go for a
walk? If you’re not too tired from camp.”

“A walk?” The idea seemed to resonate with
him. “We should go for a walk
every
night.”

“But not Wednesday. Because I need to fly to
Chicago. Just for one night.”

“Huh?”

“A school there uses my book for a course on
sports bars. So I’m a guest lecturer. But honestly?” She stroked
his face. “I’d rather be here.”

Yeah, you should be here.” He nuzzled her
neck again. “Don’t make any more plans.”

Tingling, she said playfully, “I won’t.
Except
Shark Week
on Discovery Channel. I
never
miss
that.”

“Don’t worry, it’s programmed into my
recorder already.”

“You watch it too?”

“Sure. I’m just surprised
you
do since
you’re afraid of them.”

“Know thine enemy, right?” She sighed. “You
don’t really watch it, do you?”

“Remember last year? Bride of Sharkula?
MegaFin? I’m all in.”

“You’re so perfect sometimes.” She tangled
her fingers in his thick hair. “Thanks, Sean.”

He cleared his throat. “I should get you back
to the hotel.”

She knew he was right. She had notes to make.
Doodles to correct. And an early morning drive to Seattle so she
could prepare for a demanding shift where golf enthusiasts would
compete for screen time—not to mention
Colbee
time—with
Mariners baseball fans.

“Maybe you should kiss me first,” she
murmured. Then she slid her hand behind his neck, urging his head
down then grinding against him as their tongues gleefully
celebrated buffer dating.

• • •

Over the next few days, she talked to Sean
several times, mostly because he had asked her to check in every
night when she got home from work safe and sound. She had explained
it wasn’t dangerous, since the bouncer always walked her to her
car, and Ed the editor invariably strolled out to the driveway when
he heard the RAV4.

Still, Sean claimed he needed the call.

In preparation for Tuesday book club, she
finished the zombie book and finally understood why Erica had
nagged her so much. It was a great epilogue, ending on a positive
note and hinting that Noelle Sharpe had a second book coming soon.
Apparently, Tess’s imaginary friendship with the author could
continue indefinitely.

Thus prepared, she arrived early just before
noon and grabbed their usual table in the Ashton restaurant. Just
for the fun of it she ordered sparkling wine, which was chilling
nicely in a side bucket by the time Erica rushed in looking
harried, her long hair flying behind her.

“Finally!” she told Tess as she hugged her.
“I thought I wouldn’t make it. That office is certifiable.”

“Poor you. Just call and cancel when it gets
that bad. I’ll pout, but I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t live without our weekly therapy
session. Plus, I have big news from the world of advertising.” Her
gaze settled on the champagne. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you finished
both articles.”

Tess laughed. “I can always count on you to
support my goals. And lucky for you, I’m still slow as molasses. I
did
finish
Zombie Renaissance
though.
Please
don’t say
‘Finally.’”

“Oh, my God, finally! Didn’t you love it?
Especially the news about the next book? I’ve been biting my tongue
for weeks. Oh!” She smiled in relief. “That’s why we’re having
champagne? I can only take a sip since I have meetings all
afternoon. But it’s definitely worth celebrating. Especially when
you hear
my
good news.”

“Erica?”

“Yes?”

She was about to tell her the book wasn’t the
real news, but a waiter arrived with ice water, then poured them
each a serving of bubbly.

After they placed their usual order, he left
quickly, and Tess raised her glass. “To the best book club
ever.”

“The best
friendship
ever,” Erica
corrected her. “I’m still so sorry about the other day. But I’ve
got religion now, I promise. Sean isn’t right for you. And Johnny
agrees. He said to tell you he’s sorry he didn’t kick Bam’s ass for
suggesting an overnight trip.”

Tess smiled. “Well, this is awkward. Because
Sean and I are trying out a new relationship. Not just friends.
More like quasi-dating. Since he’s stuck between his old love
affair and a future one. And I’m transitioning between careers. So
we can hang out, have fun, date a little. No big deal.”

Erica kept strong eye contact as she visibly
processed this information. Then she laughed knowingly. “Because
you can’t give up kissing him? I don’t blame you. That looked
pretty hot.”

Tess sighed. She could deny it, but why
bother? Kissing wasn’t all of it, but it was a huge part.
Definitely the part she didn’t want to let go.

“Now you can
sleep
with him, too,”
Erica continued, her tone turning gleeful. “None of us has done
that
yet. I can’t wait to hear. He’s so romantic and
attentive, so let’s face it . . .” She pretended to
swoon. Then she perked back up. “Have you done it yet?”

“Maybe
you
should sleep with him,”
Tess drawled. “I’ll keep Big John busy somehow.” When Erica
giggled, she assured her, “It’s a light form of dating. Just
kissing for now, maybe a bit more at some point. But we’re not
going to bed. We agreed on that. Because that would ruin
everything.”

“It’s always such a downer,” Erica agreed,
rolling her eyes. “Especially with a gorgeous hunk like Sean.”

“Do you know what a buffer is? That’s what
we’re shooting for. Just a casual romance between serious ones. We
already tried it out at the movies last night.” Unable to control
her excitement, she admitted, “It was so much fun. So get on board,
please?”

“A buffer? That sounds dirty,” Erica teased.
“So I’m definitely on board.”

“Whatever.” Tess raised her champagne flute
again. “To buffer dating, the
cleanest
kind of dating.”

This time, Erica reached for her water glass
for the toast. “To buffer dating.” She smiled happily. “Going to
the movies. Getting ice cream cones. That was Sean’s lament when he
was meeting Kerrie in motel rooms. He must be over the moon.”

“I think so,” Tess admitted. Then she
remembered that her friend had news too. “You said something
happened at the office? Something good? Did they actually cut your
workload?”

“Even better.” Erica’s gray eyes danced.
“Remember that ad campaign you helped me with? We finalized the
deal today. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Before Tess could respond, she continued. “I
know, I know. You don’t want any money for it because it was just
one friend helping another. Right? But I was telling Carlos about
it—Carlos Rorsch—and even though that jewelry store account has
nothing to do with him, he had a great idea. That he would hire you
as my assistant. He feels guilty about all the non-advertising
stuff he dumps on my desk, so it’s a win-win-win.”

Again, she kept Tess from objecting by saying
brightly, “I know what you’re going to say. You already have too
many jobs. But this would just be part-time. Any schedule you want.
When you feel like writing, write. When you want variety, spend a
few hours at my office. And meanwhile you can
really
quit
bartending, right? So you won’t waste all those hours commuting.
And we’ll pay whatever you made at the bar on Sundays and Mondays,
tips included. I told him what you said about the tips being
lucrative, but he promised he could beat that.”

Tess wanted to say “no” and get it over with,
but her head was spinning, and a tiny part of her knew she should
at least think it through. And luckily their food arrived, so she
had time to compose herself. The processing would come later.

“Say yes,” Erica prompted her.

“If you need an answer right away, it’s
‘no,’” she warned, adding hastily, “but if you can give me time to
think about it, then I will.”

“It would take less time away from journalism
than bartending does. And it would pay the same. Plus, you get
me.”
She waggled a teasing eyebrow. “How can you
resist?”

“You’re confusing me with Sean,” Tess said
with a laugh. “I have no trouble resisting you.”

“Good, then you can dump me the minute you
sell an article. No hard feelings. But until then, isn’t this the
perfect interim solution? Like a buffer, right?”

“Okay, first of all, you’re banned from
saying ‘buffer.’ Not ever again.” She sighed. “What would I do as
your assistant? Brush your hair?”

Erica whooped. “I wish! But you’d be doing
things you love. Brainstorming ideas. Ghost-writing press releases
and manuals for Rorsch staff because they’re brilliant with science
but hopeless with grammar. You’ll love it.”

It actually sounded doable, at least on a
temporary basis. “Part-time? How many hours is that?”

“As many as you want. Your shifts are eight
hours each, right? So maybe start with sixteen hours total? See how
it feels? Then we can adjust it up or down. And I don’t care which
days of the week. And think about
this:
you could get
all
your work done while the guys are at practice. Then
you’d have your evenings and weekends free for Sean.”

“Because it’s all about the guys?” Tess shook
her head in mock disappointment. “That’s not how I roll,
chickie.”