From Enemies to Expecting

“You’re a much better actor than I would have given you credit for,” she murmured as they held hands and dashed for the limo after Logan had finally deemed them both done. “Even I almost believed we were headed for the altar soon.”

She’d meant it as a joke, but it twisted at her heart painfully because it was frighteningly easy to pretend the adoring looks weren’t faked.

He laughed and kissed her cheek playfully. “Wasn’t an act. I’m very fond of you right now.”

“Um...really?” She glanced at him askance.

“Did you not see the scoreboard at the end?” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers, a habit she could get very used to. “Mustangs put one up in the win column. Thanks to you.”

“Me?” Had she blown his brains out earlier? She wasn’t bad in the pleasure department, but no one had ever actually lost their mind afterward. “Pretty sure I never picked up a bat the whole game.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re good luck. Obviously.”

The stress he put on the word obviously was like a verbal eye roll, except she still didn’t get it. “What, like I’m your Blarney stone now?”

That piqued his interest, and he swept her with a once-over. “Yep, which means I have to kiss you in order to get my dose of luck.”

“Now that has possibilities.” She let him pull her into his lap to get started on that, which effectively dropped the subject. Fine by her.

By the time the limo reached the hotel, they were both breathless and she’d nearly hit a high C twice as he fingered her under her dress, dipping his talented fingers into the pool between her legs again and again.

“Have dinner with me,” he murmured as they hustled through the lobby, ignoring the coaches and players she vaguely recognized. Some of them called out to Logan, but his gaze was trained on her. Deliciously so.

“Think there will be more photographers here later?”

She glanced around, but the lobby was bare of the press. For once. Had they finally gotten tired of the story? Her spine stiffened and a cold chill crept along each vertebra. If there wasn’t a story, what did that mean for this fake relationship?

“Trinity.” He waited until she glanced at him to continue. “I’m asking you to eat with me. Not because it’s good for my ticket sales or to get people to buy more mascara. Because you have to eat, and why not do it with me?”

That was too much like a date. Which was a ridiculous thing to be wary of. They’d been on plenty of dates already. Seen each other naked and put their mouths on each other in places that would get them arrested if they’d done it in public.

All at once, she realized—it wasn’t like a date. She’d been conveniently standing there when he’d decided he was hungry, that was all. He wasn’t asking her to spend time with him because he liked her. What if he had? Would that make a difference? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t supposed to like her. She didn’t like him. This wasn’t real.

Maybe she’d blown her own brains out earlier. Furious with herself for turning into a waffling, idiotic crybaby, she shook her head, totally unable to fathom why she couldn’t get rid of the crawly feeling on the back of her neck.

“I need to catch up on work after spending all day at a baseball game.”

“Okay.” He nodded like it was no big deal, and why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t a big deal. Convenient dining companion was unavailable. So what?

But then he pulled her into his arms by the elevator and gave her a scorching-hot kiss that curled her toes. His tongue talked to hers in a timeless mating ritual that her body responded to in ways no man had ever evoked. He’d literally just made her come in the limo before they’d arrived, and already she was hot for him again, wishing she’d given him a different answer when he’d asked her to dinner.

That’s why it was so much better that she’d said no. She didn’t need a man to entertain her, and she’d already gotten a couple of orgasms out of the deal. What more did she want?

They weren’t dating. This wasn’t real. The more she had to remind herself of that, the farther away from Logan she needed to stay.

When she got back to her room, her face still stinging from his stubble, she sat down at the desk to boot up her laptop. The long list of bolded unread emails flashed onto the screen and she nearly cried. Choosing emails over Logan McLaughlin. She was certifiable.

But the job of the chief marketing officer did not stop simply because the woman with the title spent the day watching a bunch of guys in tight pants whack some balls around. The only reason she’d met Logan was because she’d been doing her job, and she needed to keep focusing on that.