From Enemies to Expecting

With his fake girlfriend by his side, Logan hadn’t watched a game from the dugout since the Mustangs played Oakland. It was a huge shift in his managerial style, one that his coaches hadn’t failed to comment on. He let them think it was because Trinity had caught him by the neck and wouldn’t let go. Secretly, he was convinced it was part of the good luck that she’d brought them. It was simple math. If he went down to the field, they’d lose. So he stuck to his box and sometimes used the seventh-inning stretch to make sure Trinity felt like she was getting her share of orgasms out of the deal.

The subject of the broken condom hadn’t come up, and he trusted she’d tell him if there was something to report. Everyone was getting what they wanted.

A call from the commissioner’s office burst Logan’s bubble. Cal Johnson, his star player, was the subject of a doping investigation and would likely be suspended pending a long string of meetings that Logan had just been cordially invited to attend. The devastation this news would create could not be overstated. He’d go to the meetings and then see what was what.

Without pausing to question the decision, he drove from his office to Trinity’s condo, parked and texted her.

I’m outside. Can I come up?

Her response was immediate.

Of course.

When she opened the door, he forgot everything he’d been about to say, even though he’d seen her yesterday.

She looked so good, gorgeous in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, which signified she’d had no plans to go anywhere this evening. Of course she had on her facial armor, but her eye makeup was more subtle than normal. But even if she had done her Cleopatra thing, it was part of her whole package, one that he could secretly admit he liked on her. She was bold, outrageous, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

“What’s up?” she asked, and it was obvious from her expectant expression that she’d assumed the reason for his visit had something to do with their publicity campaign.

“I wanted to see you.”

Suddenly, he felt foolish showing up unannounced when in reality, he didn’t know what was up. He’d done more wicked things with this woman than with any other woman of his acquaintance, but that didn’t give him any better ability to understand how to communicate with her. What was he supposed to do, come right out and admit that he’d been dealt a devastating blow and she was the only one he wanted to be with right now? Because that felt way too real for what they were doing here.

Something shifted in her expression. “Then come in.”

He must be more transparent than he thought. He’d never just dropped by like this. Their association started and ended with being seen together for publicity purposes, which he was using as an excuse to continue having sex without committing to anything else.

This was crossing a line. An irreversible line.

He came in.

“I brought you something.” Before he changed his mind, he fished the jewelry box from his coat pocket. “To say thank you.”

“For what?” She eyed the long flat box like he’d pulled out a tarantula. “There aren’t any reporters here to capture this moment for all posterity. Sure you don’t want to wait and give that to me later?”

“No,” he growled. “I don’t want to wait. This is personal and I don’t want it on camera. I...”

Have no idea what I’m doing here.

Instead of floundering around like a moron, he snapped the lid open and showed her the eight-carat diamond necklace he’d painstakingly picked out at the jeweler earlier that day. Before he’d gotten the call from the commissioner’s office, finding something to commemorate the Mustangs’ eight-game winning streak—a club record—had been his top priority.

“What the hell, Logan.” Fire flashed from her gaze, which was not the reaction he’d been looking for. “You can’t give me something like that. It’s gorgeous.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out. “You have a funny way of showing your appreciation.”

Cautiously, as if afraid it might bite her, she held out one finger and touched the teardrop stone. “It’s pink. Like the flower you gave me.”

Yeah, because the instant he’d seen it, he’d thought of her and how it would look against her beautiful skin. “Does that mean you like it?”

“It’s too much for a thank-you.” But she nodded. “I like it.”

“Shut up and let me put it on you then.”

She held up her hair and presented her back without further argument, thank God. He drew the fine chain around her neck to clasp it, then took advantage of the absence of hair to kiss her exposed flesh. She didn’t move away. One second against her skin became two, and that was the extent of his self-control.