Kit (Chicago Blaze 8)

She sits up, covering her breasts with the sheet. “Not yet. I submitted your story, but it hasn’t been published yet. The special section will be out within a couple weeks. We need to keep things low key until then.”

“Low key can still mean exclusive,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Because any guy who tries to take my girl is gonna wish he wouldn’t have.”

She smiles, her cheeks turning pink. “I think being exclusive will be harder for you than me, Kit.”

“No, it won’t.”

Her expression turns somber. “You haven’t had a relationship in a long time.”

“And you want to know why.”

She shrugs. “You don’t have to tell me why, but I do wonder why you want one now.”

I sit down on the edge of the bed, looking at her sleep-tousled hair and smudged eye makeup. “It’s not about wanting a relationship now, it’s about wanting you.”

She nods, putting her palm on my thigh. I tense and slide my hand into hers, getting up and tugging on her hand.

“Let’s go drink that champagne and make omelets.”

She laughs and steps out of bed. “Oh no, we never ate that dinner last night! And it looked so good.”

“What I had was way better.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her, cupping her round, bare ass.

“I really do have to take Gram to the store,” she says, probably in response to my erection poking her in the stomach.

“First we eat,” I say, picking up my Blaze T-shirt and passing it to her. “Then I’ll take you home. But you’re gonna have to put this on or we won’t ever leave this bedroom.”

I watch as she slides the shirt down over her curvy, beautiful body, feeling my flicker of hope grow stronger. She knows how controlling I am in the bedroom, and she’s still here. I was worried that a woman as strong and independent as Molly wouldn’t want to surrender in that way.

She did, though, and she enjoyed it. Maybe I’ve been wrong to avoid relationships for so long. Because if this is what it’s like, I want everything Molly is willing to give me.

Chapter Seventeen

Molly

* * *

“There’s something different about you,” my co-worker Jen says, narrowing her eyes as she studies me. “Did you have work done?”

I laugh as I take my cardboard tray of lasagna out of the ancient microwave in the newsroom kitchen. “Um, no. The only work I could afford on a reporter’s salary is the back alley kind. I’d rather just stick with my actual face.”

“You just look…fresher or something. Are you using a new moisturizer?”

I shake my head, playing dumb. Jen flops into the chair across from me at one of the tables in the kitchen.

“I can’t even stand to be in the sports department right now,” she says, scowling. “Kent is eating leftover fish curry and Troy has really potent gas. Between the two, I need a fucking gas mask.”

“Come work at the empty desk in metro,” I suggest.

“I might.” She cocks her head, studying me as I eat my lasagna. “It is your hair? Did you get it colored?”

“Nope, same old hair.”

“Hmm.” She opens her bag of pretzels and eats one. “Hey, I saw your story about Kit Carter in Layout earlier. It looks great. I went back to my desk and pulled it up and read it, and you did a nice job.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from a sports writer.”

“I liked the focus on his brother having leukemia as a kid and how it affected Kit. I had no idea.”

“I wanted to do something unique. Plus, I’m just not good at writing about sports, so I had to do something different.”

Jen smiles. “But I saw that you went to a game. Hockey’s exciting to watch, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and the energy in the arena was just crazy. Those fans are really into the game.”

“Did writing the story turn you into a fan?”

I try to play it cool. “Maybe.”

“Why are you blushing?” Jen laughs and answers her own question. “Is it because Kit’s so easy on the eyes?”

I scoop the last bite of sauce into my mouth and get up, tossing my garbage. “I have to get back to writing.”

“Go ask Paul in layout to show you how the story looks,” Jen says, still grinning. “Your boy is on the cover of the special section and he is looking damn good.”

“He’s not my boy,” I say, frowning.

Jen winks, still munching on her pretzels. I roll my eyes and walk out of the room. Even though I don’t think my bosses would have much to say about me dating Kit, I’m not ready for them to know.

I still can’t believe I woke up in Kit’s bed yesterday. I’ve been replaying our first date in my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. It’s there on the walk back to my desk, and it stays with me as I sit down and sign on to my computer.