Slow Heat

wasn’t anywhere close to his eyes and he was even more uncharacteristically tense than he’d been during the game.

Don’t do it, Sam.

But she did. She fought her way to his side and stared down all the woman, who slowly scattered.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully pulling her in for a hug as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if maybe he’d missed her.

“Consider it a freebie.” She hugged him back, pathetically pressing her nose into his chest, inhaling the warm, male scent of him. Her hands ran up his back, feeling the bunched muscles. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I came down here to find my dad. He’s missing. Have you seen him?”

“Not since right after the game in the clubhouse. And speaking of which, it was nice of you to fly him out here and get him that box seat. He was raving about it after the game.”

“Good, but now he’s gone.” He turned toward the hotel bar.

“And you think-”

“I’d bet my last buck he’s somewhere near a bartender.”

She looked into his face, tight with strain, and took his hand, entwining her fingers in his. “There’re three lounges and four bars. We’ll split up.”

He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes, his own warm as he stroked a finger over her jaw. “Thanks.”

Not trusting her voice, Sam nodded. She let him check the entire ground floor. Nothing. She walked through the garden, eyeing each bench, and then walked through the pool area, just as Wade came out on the other side to do the same.

They saw John at the same time, on a pool lounge chair in a loud Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, a pretty woman on either side of him, all three sipping drinks, a bunch of empty glasses scattered around them.

Clearly, they’d been there awhile.

“We’re like this,” John was saying, holding up his free hand, his first two fingers twisted together. “Father and son. Tight as can be.”

“Can you get us Wade’s phone number?” one of the women asked.

“Sure,” John said, and seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, turned his head and met Sam’s gaze.

And then Wade stepped into view as well.

“Son,” John called. “Good to see you. Great game today.” He waved wildly. “Come join us.”

At the sight of Wade, the two girls leapt up and squealed with delight. Sam watched Wade wrestle a rare temper with his usual charm. The charm won, but it cost him. He wasn’t smiling as he signed autographs, or in this case, body parts. When they were gone, Wade looked at John coolly. “Where to now, Dad? Off to give some more women my phone number? To drink until you fall in the pool and drown? To act like an idiot half your age?”

“Would that bother you, son? Having me act like you?”

Wade stared at him, stunned. “What?”

“You don’t think I know anything about you, but I’ve read enough to know your ladies-man rep. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Wade, which means you’re acting like a hypocrite. So tell me. Are you pissed because I’m acting like an idiot? Or because you recognize that idiot and see yourself?”

Wade turned and shot a look at Sam, clearly not happy to have her listening to this. But she knew who he was, then and now, and yet before she could tell him so, he walked off.

“Sorry,” John said to Sam. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“He’s changed,” she said quietly. “He’s not the happy-go-lucky party boy you’re thinking of, not anymore. He’s changed, grown up…” She met his gaze. “And if you want him in your life, you’re going to have to do the same.”

He gestured to the empty glasses. “Virgin daiquiris. No alcohol.”

Sam looked into his clear eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell him that?”

“And ruin the fun he was having hating me?” He sighed. “I want him to believe in me on his own.”

“That might take a while. You’re going to have to be patient. And probably nicer.”

“I understand why you’d defend him. He’s so in love with you he can’t see straight.”

Her heart squeezed. “You’re wrong. He likes me. He…” Wants me. “It’s not what you think.”

John smiled knowingly, and a little sadly, “So you’re just as stubborn as he is.”

The Heat flew directly to Chicago. Wade walked into his hotel room, wishing he was alone, but unfortunately, he was followed by his father.

“How many times am I going to have to say I’m sorry for last night?” John asked.

“Zero.” Wade ran a hand down his face. Sam had told him what she and his father had talked about last night, and the fact that John hadn’t been drinking. “You should have told me yourself.”

“I wanted you to see it. But I guess it was too soon. I shouldn’t have baited you.” John sat on Wade’s bed and picked up the remote, flicking through the channels.

Wade sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a diversion from the Jack Daniel’s I smuggled from the flight attendant. I thought maybe a porno channel would do it.”

“No porn. Jesus, just what I need is for it to get out that I charged porn to my room.”

“Maybe it’ll get you another month with Sam.”

Wade looked at his dad. “How do you know I’d want that?”

“I’ve pickled my liver, not my brain.”

Wade shook his head and held out his hand.

“What?”

“The Jack.”

John raised a brow.

“Give me the fucking Jack Daniel’s, Dad.”

John pulled it from his bag. Wade snatched it and despite wanting to down it himself, dumped it down the bathroom sink.

“I have quit, Wade. I just… sometimes it’s hard. I need you.”

“What makes you think I have any help to give? Christ, Dad, you’d be so much better off in rehab.”

“I don’t want to be babied, or pitied. And dammit, I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to die, you’re too stubborn.”

John smiled grimly. “True enough. Look, it’s just that I figured you were the only one in the world who’d be fresh out of pity for me. You’re just what I need.”

Wade sighed. “You’re right about the lack of pity.”

“So we going to do this?”

Wade looked at him for a long moment, knowing in spite of himself there was no other choice he could really live with. “If it’ll get me my remote back.”

At the gate before the Cub’s game, they were handing out stick-on tattoos of the player’s numbers. Tag grabbed a handful of Wade’s and plastered them all over himself. For fun, he also put one on Sam’s shoulder, and she had no idea what it said about her that she liked being branded with Wade’s number.

They were in the stands when Sam’s cell vibrated, and she answered without looking at the ID. “McNead.”

“I’m out.”

Jeremy. Her stomach dropped. Her gaze slid to Tag as her throat tightened at the thought of giving him up. “After only one month?”

“Yeah. It… wasn’t for me.”

Oh, God. She couldn’t let him take Tag back to his world. Wouldn’t. She stood up, gestured to Holly to watch Tag, and moved out of earshot. “What do you mean, it wasn’t for you? You have a kid to think about, you have to get better.”

“Yeah. Listen, Sam, I’m sort of on my way to Amsterdam to meet up with Lynn.”