Down and Dirty (Dare Me 2)

Shane shifted the bag of sandwiches to his other arm and hugged her back. “Abby has the stomach flu, so we had to postpone.” He released her, and Galen ducked in to give his fiancée a quick kiss.

“Yeah, and I saw him at Sam’s Subs getting a meatball grinder for the game, so I dragged him home with me. The only thing better than the Patriots beating the Giants is Shane being here when it happens.”

Shane shook his head mournfully. “I feel sorry for you, man. And for you, Lace, having to live with this delusional bastard. The Pats are going down. The reaming Tom Brady is about to take from the Giants D is going to leave him sore for a week.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, son.”

Lacey rolled her eyes and smiled. “You two are ridiculous. Come on, let’s get this stuff put out so we can eat.” She took the bag from Shane and started down the photo-lined hallway. “Make sure you guys take your boots off if they’re muddy and hang your coats in the closet,” she called over her shoulder.

They complied before following her into the kitchen, where Cat stood at the island, laying out sandwich toppings. His pulse kicked up a notch when she turned to face him.

“Mary Catherine,” he said with a nod, taking in her thunderous expression and full, glossy lips. In the past forty-eight hours, it had been his biggest regret that they hadn’t really kissed that night in Atlantic City. Granted there were other—a million other—things he wanted to do with her…to her, that he hadn’t had the chance to do, but the fact that he hadn’t tasted those lips for real in almost ten years? It was a fucking crime, and he wouldn’t let it stand. But she didn’t need to know that. Not yet, at any rate.

“It’s Cat. And I thought you weren’t going to be here?”

She said it with a smile, but there was no mistaking the tightness in her voice. Lacey set the bag down and stepped between them, hands fluttering. “Abby is sick, so we’re lucky to have Shane with us tonight. Isn’t that great?”

The daggers those soft brown eyes were shooting at Cat said it all. Lacey knew what had happened between them. Interesting. He’d wondered if Cat would keep it to herself and try to pretend it never happened, but apparently, she had been compelled to share it with her best friend. Maybe that was a good sign? Although judging by the way her arms were crossed over her chest and from the expression on her face, he was guessing not.

“Yeah. Great,” Cat replied flatly. “Is the rest of the crew coming?”

“Rafe was supposed to come, but he got stuck at the precinct, and Mick is away on business, so it’s just us. Mom and Dad might swing by for the second half, but that’s about it.”

“Lovely.”

Clearly the idea of a foursome didn’t sit well with her, but it was fine by him.

Galen set his bag down on the counter and frowned at his sister. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

Cat unfolded her arms and shook her head. “Nothing, I’m good. Just tired.”

“Tired from what? Aren’t you on vacation this week?” he asked.

She made a show of fussing with the napkins. “Yes, but I still got up early and went to the gym. Plus I had a lot of errands to run.”

Shane took a closer look at her face and noted the dark smudges under her eyes. Not sleeping well. Good. That made two of them.

“Galen, can you help me put some of these snacks out in the living room?” Lacey asked loudly, leading the way from of the kitchen.

Galen’s gaze flickered between his sister and Shane for a moment before he followed. “Sure. Right behind you.”

Once Shane gauged that they were out of earshot, he rounded the island to get closer to Cat, keeping his voice low. “Listen, I—”

She wheeled on him, quick as a snake. “No, you listen,” she whispered, keeping an eye on the doorway behind him. “I like you, Shane. You’re a good guy, and I don’t want things to be weird between us, but I didn’t expect to see you this soon after…the thing. So cut me some slack, would you? It was a mistake. I really don’t know what I was thinking. The sooner we forget it, the quicker things can go back to normal. Let’s just get through the next few weeks until you go back to California, and this will all be a nonissue.”

The words weren’t a surprise. Hell, he’d known she was going to do her best to shove it under the rug, but the knowing didn’t make it sting any less. He curled his lips into what he hoped resembled a smile, trying to ignore the way her breasts heaved against the fitted green sweater she wore. “Take it easy there, killer. I was just going to ask you not to mention it to your brother. I know you told Lacey, but I think it would make things a little awkward trying to explain it to Galen. I don’t think either one of us needs the hassle.”

Cat cleared her throat and nodded. “Oh. Yeah, well, duh. I wasn’t going to tell him.” She unscrewed the cap of a pickle jar and laid the spears on a plate, unwilling to meet his gaze. “And I only told Lacey because she was suspicious that something was up. I’m not a good liar.”

Could have fooled him. She was clearly a pro at lying to herself. “Well, I’ll leave you to—” he tipped his chin toward the counter where she was building the leaning tower of pickles, way too high for the number of people there “—whatever it is you’re doing. You coming soon, or you planning to avoid me for the next few hours?”

Ha. Judging by the look on her face, the next few years was probably more like it, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. Before he’d left Cali, he’d already put in transfer paperwork in order to be closer to his family. He’d gotten the call this morning that everything was a go, and after tying up some loose ends later in the month, he’d be on the East Coast for good. And, for the foreseeable future, he had every intention of making sure he was front and center, in Cat’s face, making it impossible to forget what they’d done together. For her to be as haunted by the memory as he was. The way she’d felt, body pressed against his, gasping and writhing. The way she’d broken apart in his arms and groaned his name. His cock swelled, straining against his zipper.

She gifted him with a tight smile. “Nope. No avoidance here. As long as you’re going to be cool, I’m cool. It was just sex, after all, and we’re both adults. No biggie.”

Right. No biggie.

“Great.” He edged around her, accidentally-on-purpose brushing his torso against hers when he passed, and she stiffened. “I’m going to grab a beer from the fridge, you want one?”

“No, thanks.”

Her voice sounded a little huskier than it had a moment before, and he bit back a grin and helped himself to a lager. Flipping off the cap, he threw a lingering look over his shoulder, letting his gaze travel the length of her before he walked out. “By the way, you might want to turn the heat up in here. You look cold.”

Chapter Four

Cat glared down at her traitorous nipples, clearly visible against the teal cashmere. At that moment, she couldn’t determine whether it was the incidental contact or the earthy scent of his cologne that brought the memories rushing in, but damned if she didn’t have the sudden urge to drag him back into the kitchen and see if the countertops were as sturdy as they looked.

But for him to call attention to it? What a bastard. And she was the one who needed to grow up?

“The game’s starting,” Galen called from the living room.

She straightened her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face, and scooped up a basket of chips and a bowl of dip. After a quick nipple check, she called back, “Coming!” and went to join them.

It took a couple hours, but eventually, she was actually able to enjoy herself. For the first half of the game, she’d been on edge, waiting for Shane to slip up about their indiscretion or embarrass her somehow. But aside from his comment in the kitchen, he’d acted like everything was normal. Maybe he really was going to let her off the hook that easily.

Once it was apparent he’d decided to behave, she settled in, allowing herself to relax and soak up the warmth of the crackling fire. That was nice. Galen never used to light it.

She peered around the room and noted that, in the past few months since she’d moved in, Lacey had really lent the place a warm touch all over. Cat had seen it at points, in transition, but seeing it all come together was something else. The soothing earth-toned walls and honey-colored hardwood floors made the living room feel like the welcoming great room at a ski lodge, compared with the almost sterile feel of the white walls and serviceable furniture Galen had preferred. It was nice and inviting. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if her brother liked the new look or if this was another one of those compromises that people in relationships did for their partner.

She was stretched out on the recliner in the corner, nursing her beer and contemplating that, when the smack talk got loud. This was the best part of football season, and she was as loud as the guys, name-calling and whooping it up. The Patriots were up by fourteen, and Galen had his sights set on Shane.

“I can already taste the lunch you’re going to have to buy me tomorrow when the Pats log this win. But, man, don’t feel bad. There’s always next week. And Eli’s such a good quarterback. Did you know, he’s the third-most-famous quarterback…”

“…in his family,” Cat deadpanned, as was expected of her. Her brother stuck his hand behind him from his perch on the beanbag chair in front of her for a low five, and she complied with a laugh.

“Say what you want, but he’s a come-from-behind kind of guy,” Shane said, from his seat on the couch next to Lacey, eyes glued to the set. “Anything can happen.”

“There you, go, Shane. That’s some team spirit,” Lacey said. She didn’t really care for football much, but she tended to join in on the jabber anyway, and always in support of the underdog. Another reason Cat loved her so much.

“I don’t know. He’s doing a lot of scrambling in the pocket. Maybe your O-line should start thinking about waking up and buying him some time?” Galen piped in.

Shane tipped his head and shrugged. “If a guy really knows what he’s doing, he doesn’t need a lot of time.” Was it her imagination, or had his voice gotten deeper? “He makes the most of the time he’s given.”

Galen spouted off about benefits and detriments of a quick-fire quarterback, but Cat stayed silent, suspicious eyes on Shane. He took a pull from his beer, his gaze still locked on the TV, in spite of the commercial break. A long moment later, she finally decided that he was actually talking football and not baiting her with sexual innuendos as she’d suspected. Until he winked. Or blinked? She was directly to his left, so she could only see his one eye. Son of a bitch, he was driving her nuts.

She popped a handful of cashews in her mouth and crunched them harder than necessary.

“Anyway,” Galen continued, “I think it’s good to have more than one secret weapon in your arsenal, you know. And speaking of secrets. Shane.” The intensity of her brother’s expression belied his casual tone. “Got anything you want to tell me?”

Terror hit harder than Holyfield, and Cat sucked in a panicked breath. Along with it came a wayward cashew, which lodged itself neatly in her windpipe. A little nugget of doom. Her mind reeled, the fear of being found out oddly no less potent for a moment than the fear of choking to death, and how sad was that? She tried to cough, but nothing happened. And that’s when it really hit her. She was actually in trouble here. She clutched at her throat, Shane’s voice dimly penetrating the sound of blood pounding in her ears.

“What do you mean, bro?”

They had no idea. She was dying and they had no clue. She wanted to scream, but no sound would come. Instead, she shot up, waving her arms, frantically pointing to her neck.