She blinked. “Stop. Right. There. Just stop.”
“Okay,” he chuckled. “Sorry.” Not. Especially after getting an eyeful of that tantalizing telltale blush.
She dropped her forehead into her hand. “I was just thinking the other day how nice it was that you weren’t one of those cocky athletes, but I stand corrected.”
“Don’t you mean confident?” he tossed out and nearly gave himself a Grandma head slap.
She groaned in response. Not a good kind of groan.
“Damn. And here I thought I was playful and endearing.”
“And I didn’t know you were a smartass.”
“And I didn’t know how many shades of pink your face turns. Like right now it’s flaming pink. See all this great stuff we’re learning about each other now that you’re here?”
With a headshake, she returned to her letters. “Just go away.” She was fighting a losing battle with the giggles, which shot him through with warmth. Making her laugh might have just become his new all-time favorite thing to do.
Unfortunately, her giggle battle did other things to him, like cause his growing problem to transform into a full-masted problem. He waited until her back was turned and stood, box in front of him, mumbling about going through the kids’ letters himself because they were his favorites. As he lurched out of the office, his mind grasped at inventorying the mites’ gear, filling out insurance forms, deciphering musical notes—anything to keep him from lingering on the curve of Lily’s neck or the flare of her hips or the pink pout of her lips.
In the family room, he sat down with the box and stared at its contents without seeing them. Mentally, he meandered in and around the game tonight, the playoffs, the chase for the Cup. Despite his mind’s wanderings, though, it was never far from Lily. He could practically feel the strings growing, attaching him more solidly to her, to her world.
Fifteen minutes later, she tiptoed out from the office. “Finished for today. I have to hit the grocery store before the bus drops Daisy off.”
He stood and came toward her until a mere foot separated them. “Ah.”
“And if I’m not mistaken, it’s about nap time for you, right?” Her lips curved in a way that wasn’t exactly suggestive, though it nudged his mind toward the suggestive side.
Right. Nap. He had a game tonight. He needed to focus. But damn if his head didn’t succumb to his dick and leap to a different sort of nap—one that involved no sleep with a sexy blond. “You sure you can’t be there tonight?”
She shook her head, and her curls bounced around her. He pictured the silk twisted around his fingers. “I wish I could, but there’s no one to watch Daisy.” She gave him a cute pout.
“I’ll get a ticket for her too.”
“It’s a school night.”
Tongue-tied, his synapses firing haphazardly, he was incapable of lobbing a retort because desire lit him like a damn torch. He needed to wrestle the beast back where it belonged.
He blew out an exasperated breath. “Nothing says you have to stay for the entire game. Just leave before the end.”
Blue eyes stared into his, and for a moment the space between them seemed to shrink, their bodies leaning closer together. It was becoming difficult to breathe.
Please want me as much as I want you, right here, right now.
She straightened and began brushing at her shoulder, looking far too interested for the invisible something it was. “Daisy would like to attend one of your games.”
His heart did a little flip. “I’d love it. Just say when. There’s a matinee coming up if that would work better with her school schedule.”
“That would be great. Well, um, I really should …”
“What?”
“Go.”
He stepped back and let out a nervous laugh. “So tomorrow?”
She tilted her head. “Tomorrow?”
“Carla’s yoga class?”
“Oh right!” she barked, sounding as nervous as he felt.
“Why don’t you bring Daisy, and I’ll take us out for hot chocolate afterward?”
“I won’t have Daisy with me. There’s no school the next day, so she’s spending the night at—”
“Derek’s?” Fucking Derek! The sudden flare of jealousy had him reeling. Whoa! Get a grip.
“No, Ivy’s actually. They’re going to have a girls’ day together.”
He masked a ridiculous surge of relief. “Ah. Sounds fun. Tea parties and tutus and such?”
“You’re funny.” She gave him a sweet grin.
“Looks aren’t everything.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your looks I’m talking about, Professor. Those aren’t funny.”
“Worse than funny?”
“Hardly.”
“Uh, thank you?”
She winked. “Just go with it.”
Right. Been doing a lot of that lately. “So about yoga tomorrow.”
“Yes?”
“Can I take you out for hot chocolate afterward?”
“Yes, Professor. I’d like that.”
Chapter 18
Is It Hot in Here, or Is It You?
Carla’s yoga class more closely resembled a reunion of the Super Bowl party guests than a body-twisting meditation session. With yoga togs the only clothing holding her in, Lily’s self-consciousness had her positioning her mat between Natalie and Katie. She faced Gage’s back, and by the end of the session she was more hot and bothered than relaxed because oh, mama, watching all those wonderful muscles flex was almost more than she could take. And with him in shorts and a sleeveless tank, there were plenty of muscles for her to keep track of. It was a wonder she hadn’t jumped his back like a monkey.
At one point, she’d been so busy watching him that she’d humiliated herself by falling over with all the grace of a waterlogged elephant. Natalie had shot her a face-torching wink before jerking her head toward Gage and mouthing, “Nice tush. Just friends? Why?”
Not helping in the least, the object of Lily’s hot-and-botheredness peered over his shoulder at her. “What’s going on back there?”
Sipping wine afterward—because nearly everyone from the class joined them, and the majority opted for a pub rather than a coffee bar—Lily stole peeks at Gage, tracking how he joined in his teammates’ good-natured abuse with self-deprecation. When talk turned to praise, he was vocal if that praise was aimed at the others but fell
