And come to him they did; big, little, curvy, skinny, they came in all shapes and sizes and ages, most falling all over themselves for a piece of him.
He’d been good at doling out pieces. He’d had girlfriends, casual relationships that he’d played at. But Sam had never, not once, seen him hand over the whole of his heart and soul.
And in spite of the fact that he clearly felt something for her, maybe something more than the usual, in the end, she knew she’d be no exception. Not a pleasant realization, especially since she could honestly say she’d most definitely given him a piece of her heart and soul.
Which hadn’t been in her plan.
“Is the month up already?” her father asked Wade.
“No,” he said, looking at Sam.
“Tomorrow,” she said, and saw his surprise.
“Tomorrow?” Wade frowned. “I thought we had a few more days.”
“Time flies.” Her father gestured to a chair for Wade. “Wanted to thank you, O’Riley. I appreciate you handling the month with as much grace as you did, pretending to have a relationship with Samantha here. I know it wasn’t what you wanted, and it probably wasn’t easy.” He smiled at Sam. “She’s good, but never easy.”
Sam stood up and grabbed her purse. Wade stood as well, and set a hand at the small of her back in silent but clear support. “Ready?” he asked her.
Wade nodded, then looked at her father. “You don’t have to thank me. Sam did all the work, and that she did so was because of me in the first place.”
“Any problems that she couldn’t fix?”
Sam opened her mouth in protest but Wade shook his head. “She pulled the job off like no one else could have.”
Satisfied, her father nodded, and Sam somehow managed to hold her tongue. She held it as they walked through the lobby, but it was difficult. She could fight her own battles, dammit, and more than that, she hadn’t liked the feeling that all she and Wade had accomplished was hiding behind the
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Wade murmured as they waited for an elevator. “But he’s really a very scary man. How’d you turn out so normal?”
She had to force herself not to hug him on the spot. “You think I’m normal?”
He smiled, and slid the hand he’d never taken off of her up her back in a soothing gesture, as if he knew just how on the edge she was. “Relatively speaking. You okay, Princess? You’re practically vibrating.”
She sighed. “I’ve just had a really bad hour. You just had a bad game. And tonight is our last night of being boyfriend and girlfriend-” She broke off, unhappy that had slipped out. It felt needy, and she hated needy. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some… I don’t know. Alcohol. Cookies. Sensitivity. Something.”
“Our last night,” he repeated softly.
Her breath caught. “Yeah.”
The elevator opened and he nudged her in ahead of him. As the doors closed, he backed her up against the wall and pressed into her, looking into her eyes for a long enough beat that her heart skipped. “One thing,” he whispered.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.” And then he kissed her, long and deep. When he slid a hard thigh between hers and moved against her, she completely lost herself and didn’t come up for air until the doors dinged and slid open.
He pulled back, ran his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes all hot and sleepy and sexy as hell. “I have something I want to show you in my room,” he said.
“I bet.”
He grinned, and looking like sin on a stick, took her hand. And instead of putting voice to her insecurities, or wishing for things that weren’t meant to be, she called and checked on Tag, then went with Wade to his room and let him show her whatever he wanted.
Twice.
And then once more in the shower for good measure.
The next day, the Heat arrived back in Santa Barbara. Wade entered his house for the first time in a week to a crowd of old men sitting on his couch in various stages of paunchy, wrinkled baldness, all wearing their pants up to their armpits, swirling their dentures in their mouths, passing his Xbox around. “What the hell?”
The room erupted into cheers and requests for autographs, except no one could seem to get up; they were all fighting their walkers and canes.
John came close as Wade watched in disbelief. “Found myself a geriatric AA group.”
“Of course you did,” Wade said. “They’re playing video games.”
“Yeah, but they’re not drinking.”
“Aren’t they a little old for you?” Wade slid his father a glance, then took a double take at the very loud, red Hawaiian shirt, plastered with green parrots, which almost but not quite distracted him from the edgy expression on his father’s face. He was still missing his booze like he’d miss a limb. “Dad. You realize it’s hard to take you seriously with that shirt, right?”
John looked down at himself. “I like this.”
Wade shook his head. “Are you scamming them?”
“We really have to work on your impression of me.”
Wade sighed. “You’re scamming them.”
“Hey, they just wanted to see where the great catcher Wade O’Riley lived.”
“So you what, charged entrance fees?”
John smiled. “I thought I’d earn my keep.”
“Jesus.” Wade walked to the wall where the TV was mounted and hit the power button. The TV went black, and a bunch of groans rose in the air. Wade pulled out his wallet, and the room fell silent. “I’m paying you back whatever you paid to get in here, and then I’m sorry, but you have to go.”
It took him an hour to clear the place out, and when they were all gone, John shook his head. “You’re a party pooper.”
Wade let out a rough laugh. “Yeah, well, congratulations. You’ve managed to do what the Heat management hasn’t, you’ve turned me into a burnout before age thirty-five.”
John grinned. “See, admit it, I’m good for you. So… how did the series go?” He followed Wade into the kitchen. “Where were you again?”
“Forget it.” Wade opened the refrigerator, and stared in shock. He’d been cleaned out.
“Ah, come on,” his dad said behind him. “I’ve been lonely. Talk to me.”
Wade rounded on him, unable to hold his silence. “Do you know how many words you spoke to me when I was a kid?”
John’s eyes flickered. “Uh, not many, I imagine.”
“Less than you’ve spoken to me since you’ve gotten here. So you’ll have to excuse me, but I’m about at my limit.” With that, he took himself off to his room.
His bedroom was large, done up in low, muted, warm earth tones. Dark wood dresser and armoire, huge king- sized bed. Minimal furniture, thousand-count chocolate brown sheets, and thick bedding. He didn’t have a TV in here; he’d never needed one in his bedroom before because when he was around, which wasn’t much, he watched in the living room, usually with the guys.
But now he was stuck in here with his father holding the rest of his house hostage, and he had nothing but a big bed to look at.
And no woman in it.
A knock came on the door. “I’m hungry.”
Wade sighed. “So call for food.”
“No credit card.”
“My wallet’s on the counter.”
There was blessed silence for two minutes.
