The room was dim, illuminated only by the gauzy glow through a window, and he took in a small table flanked by two chairs, a fireplace, and a four-posted bed in shadows.
Grasping his hand, she pulled him in after her. It was small and soft, nestling nicely in his own. A mere foot separated them, and he caught her fragrance on the air—flowers, rain, mystery. Moonlight peeking through the window reflected frost-like in her hair.
She motioned toward the seating area. “Wine’s over here. There’s a private deck where we can sit and talk. Maybe look at the stars?”
He nodded his agreement and tracked her with his eyes as she uncorked the bottle and poured dark wine into two glasses. Grabbing the half-full bottle, he opened the deck door for her and followed her outside, where they settled into cushy chairs.
“Here’s to the blues.” He clinked her wineglass. A small smile curved her lips as she took a baby-bird sip.
She set her glass down and tugged at a fine gold chain around her neck that caught the moon’s luminescence. On the chain was a plain gold ring she slid up and down absently. “Are your mother and grandmother here in Denver?”
“No, they’re in the Bay Area. I have a sister, Sarah, who lives in Seattle.”
“Do you see them often?”
A lump rose in his throat, and he coughed it back down. “I carve out time as often as the schedule allows. The off-season is a lot more flexible, though I still have camps, training, and other obligations.”
“And your dad?”
“Not in the picture.He and my mom split when I was a kid, and he’s got a new family in Oregon.”
“Do you see him?”
They were moving into a prickly pear patch, where he didn’t like going. “We trade the occasional obligatory phone call. ‘Obligatory’ applies to both sides.” And it’s awkward as hell.
His dad hadn’t been bad to him and his sis, just uninterested. Opposite of how he treated their step-siblings. When he thought of his dad, a blank avatar came to mind. A placeholder. Add to that how he’d broken Mom’s heart, and Gage had no reason to change the current dynamic.
He lifted his wineglass and gulped, suddenly aware he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “What about you?”
“My mom and dad live in Florida, and my sister, Ivy, and her husband are in Denver. I spend lots of time with them. I guess you could say Ivy’s my best friend.” She seemed to consider him. “Are you close to your sister?”
“Sarah’s my best bud, although she constantly gives me crap.” A chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“That’s what sisters do best.”
“Well, Sarah’s always done one hell of a good job at it.” Another fortifying sip. “Back to you. You used to sing with the band, but not so much anymore?”
“I rarely sing in public these days. I only sang at the wedding because Derek needed a vocalist, and I knew the songs. Though I gotta admit, it was fun to be out there again.”
Gage recalled the guy’s glare. “Is Derek an ex?”
“Ex-bandmate only. No other sort of ex.”
“And he’s not your brother.”
“No.” She let out a sigh. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
Something in her tone told him the subject was closed, and he let it go. “Ah.”
She paused to top off his glass. Jeez, had he polished his off already? He was buzzing like a live wire. This woman was putting him off his game. Assuming he had a game … which he didn’t.
“So what do you do when you’re notsinging?” He took another sip.
“I volunteer, I do web design, and I’m a social media consultant.”
“So, like, you help clients post on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, other sites?”
She straightened, as if she were on a job interview. “Yes, exactly. I work up campaigns for them. Sometimes I execute them, and other times the client takes over.”
“Ah. And what kind of volunteer work?”
She slid the ring along the chain more intently. “Grief counselor.”
Her words seemed to punch out of her, and something told him to tread carefully. “Oh, wow. That’s gotta be tough.”
A slow sigh escaped her. “It can definitely be challenging.”
They sat in companionable silence, sipping wine and staring at the sky overhead. The air around them was filled with buzzing and chirping. When she began shifting in her seat, he finished off his wine. “I should probably go.” He stood, gathering up his glass and the now-empty bottle, and led her back into the room.
He opened her door and paused, facing her.
“You’re really sweet,” she said.
He told himself to go with it—right after he reminded himself he needed to leave. But he wasn’t doing a good job listening to the last bit, distracted as he was.
When she rose up on tiptoe, ran her hands up his chest, and cupped his head, he didn’t resist—didn’t want to. Instead, he let her draw his mouth down to hers, telling himself he’d finish the kiss, then leave.
Her lips were soft and sweet; he lingered.
She pulled back, her lips hovering near his. “Please stay,” she murmured.
Another kiss, deeper this time. Who initiated it, he couldn’t say. Didn’t care.
She let out a little mewl. The electrical charge that had been wreaking havoc inside him ratcheted up in amperage. He encircled her small frame in his arms and toed her door closed behind them.
Chapter 3
You Meet the Darnedest People at Strip Clubs
Present day, still at the arena
Staring through the Porsche’s windshield into the nothingness of the arena’s darkened parking lot, Gage startled from his memories back to the present when someone tapped on his window. Jesus, how long had he been sitting here letting his mind amble along its winding path?
He lowered his window, and Travis, the team owner’s son, gave him a shit-eating grin. “Hey, Nelson. We’re headed to the Sapphire Club, and you’re joining us.”
Gage had no interest in going to a strip club.“Kinda tired after the game.”
“Too bad,” Travis said. The guy’s authority came
