He laughed and pressed his fingers to his eyes.
“Okay, maybe I was a little.”
“Yeah. Thanks for breakfast.”
“But good-bye,” she guessed. “Right?”
“Unless you’re packing some TLC.”
“Is that code for sex?”
He gave her a look that singed her eyebrows.
“Yeah,” she said shakily. “It is.”
He set down the bag and pressed her back against the foyer wall and kissed her. It wasn’t soft and gentle. It was all heat and tongue and aggravation.
And all of her bones melted.
“Ah, jeez,” came Tag’s voice.
Sam nearly leapt out of her skin as she jerked back from Wade. Tag had gotten out of the car and stood there slurping from his orange juice, studying them critically.
Into the silence, Pace drove up the driveway. He got out of his classic Mustang with a bag of McDonald’s and eyed Tag’s Mickey D’s. “I’m too late.”
“Pace!” Tag said with great pleasure, and took in Pace’s warm-up sweats. “You going to practice?”
“Yep. Soon as I check on Wade here.”
“They’re
“Are they?” Pace asked mildly, his eyes reflecting his amusement.
“Yeah. Can I ride in your car?”
“I’ll take you to practice with me, sure. If it’s okay with your Aunt Sam.”
Tag whirled on Sam. “Yeah?”
A cab pulled up and honked.
Everyone looked at each other.
“That’s for me.” John nudged his way past the four in the doorway, smiled at Tag, and headed down the walk.
“Where are you going?” Wade asked him.
“Progress that you even asked. I’m off to my first AA meeting.”
“You’ve been to AA a hundred times. A thousand.”
“Maybe a thousand and one is the charm.”
Wade frowned as his father waved over his shoulder and got into the cab, which drove off. He looked at Sam, his gaze inscrutable though she was pretty sure it still had retribution in it.
“I want to go watch Pace practice. Please?”
Pace tossed Tag his keys. “Wait for me in the car. Just don’t take it for a spin without me.”
“Next time?”
“When you’re sixteen, we’ll talk. Go.” Pace looked at Sam and Wade. “You two going to play nice?”
“I always play nice,” Sam said.
Wade let out a barely there snort.
Pace grinned. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He nudged Sam. “Don’t worry about the kid. You know where we’ll be.”
And then it was just her.
And Wade.
Who stood there bare-chested in just those sweatpants, that edible body tense and unhappy. “I feel like this is my fault,” she said.
He softened with a low sigh. “It’s not. Okay, it is… but it’s not.”
“You’re hurting.”
“Yeah. Want to kiss it better?” He ran a finger over her collarbone, then along the edges of the deep V-neck of her dress.
Her breath caught.
He closed his eyes as his finger slid beneath the material. A muscle jumped in his jaw, then he opened his eyes again and stepped back. “You should probably go to your meeting.”
That had been her plan but now she wanted to stay and have him keep touching her. “Not for forty-five minutes.”
“Sam,” he said warningly. “I’m pissed off and really want to stay that way.”
“Pissed off isn’t productive to healing.”
Again, he ran a finger over her neckline. “What are you wearing beneath the dress?”
Empathy and lust warred within her, along with a genuine, bone-deep affection that shouldn’t have surprised her but did. She already knew she liked him, more than she’d meant to, more than she’d ever wanted to. Her dress was just another wrap dress, professional and relatively modest, and not at all overtly sexy in any way. Except that when Wade looked at her like that, with frustration and heat, with those green eyes at half mast, she felt sexy as hell. “Maybe you should find out yourself.”
As agile-minded as he was able-bodied, he reached around her to hit the lock on his front door. “Best idea I’ve heard all morning.”
Chapter 24
The best way to catch a knuckleball is to wait until the ball stops rolling and then pick it up.
Wade pulled Sam in, his eyes quietly and powerfully intense, all the more so because she knew what it meant. He wore that look when he was on the baseball diamond and going for the win.
And he wore it when he was making love to her.
And did he make love. He was good at it, so damn good.
“I dreamed you started your own PR firm and left us,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her jaw.
She choked out a startled laugh even as she tilted her head to give him better access. “I’m thinking about it.”
He lifted his head and stared at her, then nodded solemnly. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great.”
“So in this dream,” she said. “I was gone. Did you miss me?”
His hand splayed over her hip, playing with the tie on her dress. “More than I can say.”
“Aw.”
“Fucking pathetic.” He pulled the tie until it gave.
“You’re still hurting,” she murmured, pressing a hand between her breasts, holding the dress together. “Probably you shouldn’t be doing anything… strenuous.”
He took her hands in his, spreading them out at her sides so that her dress loosened and unraveled, then slipped to her elbows, aided by his hands. He pushed her backwards until she bumped up against something.
The table behind the sofa in the living room.
On it sat a bowl with keys, a stack of mail, and Wade’s wallet. Clearly the dumping grounds for his pockets when he walked into the door at night. With one sweep of his hand, the entire contents were knocked to the floor.
She gasped. “But your ribs-”
“I’ll tell you when I need help.”
“Your head-”
“Is fucked up,” he granted. “But mostly just on the inside.” He urged her up on the table, then stepped in
