“I didn’t ask,” he mumbled against my skin, nipping his way to my ear. “And don’t plan to. If I ever want to have wood again, I need to keep all thoughts of Patti and naked or anything beyond way the hell out of my head.”
I laid my palm against his cheek, the one I slapped, and he stilled. “I don’t think wood is a problem of yours.”
“Doesn’t seem so, no,” he said, facing me now, his hooded gaze dark and unreadable.
My heart squeezed, humiliation bubbling inside me, remembering the look of sheer disappointment on his face after what I did to Tilly only to be replaced by the absolute shock after I smacked him.
“I’m sorry I hit you. I—I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s forgotten.”
“Forgiven, not forgotten. Please,” I said, brushing my lips softly over his skin there. “Because I never want to do it again.”
We stared at one another for several beats, my fingers tracing over his cheekbone, neither one of us saying what we both knew—he wouldn’t stick around long enough for that to be a problem.
He took my hand and pressed his lips to the center of my palm—a kiss that went straight to all my vulnerable places.
“I hurt you. It was such an easy miscalculation on my part and it changed you.”
His choice of words…a clue to what he was thinking, feeling—to the future and what he’d do. Why he always chose to go. “You did, but that’s no excuse for what I did. You’re human. You fucked up. I’ve now fucked up. I will again in a different way. It’s what we do. And it’s why we don’t forget.”
“Forgiven then,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look tired. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” He moved our boxes and stood, reached out a hand to pull me to my feet, and started nudging me down the hall in front of him.
“Well, it’s the least you can do since you might have knocked me up.”
He skidded to a stop and froze behind me for a beat—or ten. His hands tightened on my biceps, his forehead bumping against the back of my head.
“Fuck,” he bit out, his hot breath landing on my neck, flirting with the wisps of hair there. Because of course I’d be getting aroused while he was in the middle of a heart attack.
“Yes, we did,” I hummed the words, a smile twitching at the corners of my mouth, but not quite ready to stop fucking with him.
“Condoms.”
“Those are important.”
“I’m sorry, I—how many cows over the years were impregnated in that barn and now—”
I spun on him then because my newfound control was not going to hold up this curve in the road. “Okay, I’m going to need you to stop right there. Relax, big boy. I never met my father. I don’t even know his name. Do you really think I don’t handle my business where unwanted pregnancy is concerned?”
“No. But you were with Eve before this so I—”
“I have an IUD. You’re good. Now, do I have anything to worry about? Been dickie dunking in polluted holes?”
“No, there hasn’t been anyone, in—quite a while actually.”
“Let’s leave it at that then, because the thought of anyone else touching you gives me feelings. I don’t like it.”
He stood there grinning like an idiot.
“And stop smiling like that. Now, about this getting me cleaned up thing… Do you have a list of the services you provide in that regard?”
“For you, anything,” he said, walking me backwards into my room.
“My hair. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to wash my hair.”
“You aren’t. I am.”
I freed my ponytail as he got the shower going. He waited for the water to steam and added cold, having me check to make sure it wasn’t too hot.
Surprisingly, I slid my tank over my busted stump and worked it over my head, all on my own. But there was no way I’d be able to get the sports bra off. Not for lack of trying. Because I was totally bringing sexy back with the yank and tug until I had one boob out and the band twisted up my back like some backwoods, homemade bondage nightmare.
Kneeling down on one knee, he slid my shorts and underwear off in one swift glide, waiting for me to step out of them before tossing them in the hamper.
Did I mention I was still one tit out here?
Not that he noticed, because he’d taken keen interest in my hip all of a sudden, the look on his face making my mouth go dry.
He ran his fingers over the yellowing bruise from the last bout of the season.
The first time we saw one another.
“It never bothered me before,” he said quietly.
“What?” I asked, sliding my fingers into his thick, dark hair.
Maybe this was why we waited for so long to get to this point. Why we skirted the attraction. Once we got here, it all came so naturally to us. The closeness and intimacy.
Two broken halves of an imperfect whole.
“The bruises. I know you’ve got to be covered with them. It’s never bothered me before. My own players, I didn’t want to hear about it. Didn’t care. But seeing them on you…it’s different.”
He said so little yet revealed everything with his admission and I wondered if maybe, just maybe he’d come around to the idea that he could stay.
He could have his family.
He could have me.
Pressing a firm kiss against my skin, he pushed onto his feet, hooked his fingertips under my bra and took it with him, careful of my hand along the way.
Heart racing, the ground turned to quicksand underneath me and I reached for something, anything to get me on solid footing again.
Because I’d completely fallen for him. Not a single
