Rules of Contact

by Jaci Burton

  Both Mick and Flynn answered at the same time.

  "We are."

  Amelia laughed. And finally relaxed, even though Flynn kept skirting glances her way. He could watch her all he wanted to. As long as the two of them didn't have another one of those intimate conversations where he touched her and her body didn't go up in flames, she'd be fine.

  The party broke up around midnight. Amelia took out her phone to call for a ride.

  "What are you doing?" Flynn asked.

  "Ordering a ride home."

  "We live close. I'll drive you home."

  "That's not necessary. I'm used to getting my own ride."

  "It may be what you're used to, but it's not happening tonight. Put your phone away. I'm driving you home."

  She frowned at him. "Are you always so bossy?"

  "You work for me so you know the answer to that. But in this case, no. I'm a gentleman, because my mother raised me to be one. And I'd very much like to give you a ride home, Amelia, if you'd let me."

  If he'd been overly assertive and an asshole, she could have easily told him no. But he had to be sweet about it, and even brought up his mother. What was she supposed to do with that? "Okay. Sure. Thanks."

  They said their good-byes. Amelia made sure to hug Tara.

  "Thank you so much for inviting me. I had a wonderful time."

  Tara gave her a squeeze. "I'm so glad. I'm really sorry about Aaron. I had high hopes for the two of you."

  Amelia laughed. "It's really fine. And I'm glad he and Skylar found a connection."

  "It would seem so, since they took off a couple of hours ago. I think they wanted some alone time to get better acquainted."

  Or something that had nothing to do with talking. "I'm happy to hear that."

  "We'll talk soon," Tara said.

  Flynn hugged Tara, then they walked out to his SUV. He opened her side of the vehicle and waited for her to get in before closing the door and moving over to the driver's side.

  The night was cool, so she was glad she had her sweater to wrap around her.

  "Cold?" Flynn asked after he started the engine.

  "A little."

  He leaned over and pressed a button on the dash. "Butt warmer. That should help."

  "Butt warmer, huh?"

  "Yup. And I'll turn the heat up."

  "No, don't do that on my account."

  He looked over at her. "Did someone tell you once that you were a pain in the ass or something, so now you never complain about anything?"

  "I . . ." Actually, that's exactly what had happened with Frank. Whenever she'd asked for something more than once, he'd called her a complainer. Or, even worse, a whiner. So she'd stopped asking.

  After a while, they'd stopped communicating altogether.

  That had been the beginning of the end for her marriage.

  He put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway. "Yeah, that's what I thought. If you want something, Amelia, just ask for it. I'll never jump down your throat about it."

  "Duly noted."

  They drove for a while in silence, then she looked over at him and said, "I need a couple more stainless steel saute pans for the restaurant."

  When they reached a red light, he glanced her way and arched a brow. "Taking that opening to hit me up for some inventory, huh?"

  She gave him her sweetest smile. "Well, you told me to ask."

  He laughed. "Anything you want, you can have."

  "Anything?"

  "Within reason."

  "Oh, now you're putting conditions on it."

  "Hey, I can't have you out buying a new stove or anything."

  She frowned. "You put a brand-new stove in when you remodeled the restaurant before you opened. Why would I want a new stove?"

  "I was joking."

  "Oh. Sorry."

  "You need to lighten up, Amelia. Not everything between you and me has to be so damn serious all the time."

  "I'll make a note of that."

  She was still so wrapped up in what had happened between them earlier that she'd totally missed that bit of humor.

  He was right. She did need to relax. The problem was, she'd been tense ever since that moment in Tara and Mick's kitchen.

  Sexual tension.

  A good orgasm would cure that. She made a mental note to take care of that as soon as she got home.

  Great. Now she was stuck in the car with Flynn and thinking about sex and orgasms.

  She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as she thought about how it had felt when he'd touched her, the way he'd looked at her with such . . . intensity.

  She bet he fucked that way, too. He seemed like the kind of man who was all-in on everything he did. She could already imagine him giving his full attention to a woman, both with his hands and his mouth, and then later, with his cock.

  Suddenly overwhelmed with heat and a quivering sensation, she blew out a breath.

  "Everything okay over there?" he asked.

  "Fine. I'm fine."

  "You sure? I can pull over if you need a drink or you need to pee or something."

  It was definitely more of the "or something" variety, and she didn't think having an orgasm at a nearby convenience store sounded all that . . . convenient.

  "I'm sure." This ride home was interminable. She needed to get behind closed doors and take care of this problem. Once she had a tension release, she'd be her normal self again.

  Or, at least, she needed to get far away from Flynn.

  When they finally drove up her street, she almost exhaled in relief. He pulled up to the curb and it was all she could do not to leap out. But then he parked and shut off the engine. She shot him a glare.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to walk you to your door."

  "That is not necessary, Flynn."

  But he was already out the door and on his way over to her side.

  Dammit.

  He opened her car door, so she had no choice but to step out and allow him to accompany her to her front door.

  She turned around to face him. "Okay, well, thanks."

  He stood there, waiting.

  She rolled her eyes and fumbled in her purse for her keys. When she found them, she unlocked her door and opened it.

  "I'm fine now. Thanks for driving me home."

  "You should invite me in for coffee. Or something."

  She knew exactly what that something was, and if she let him put one foot inside that door she'd climb him like a sex-starved monkey. And despite all the reasons that idea sounded really good at the moment, there were a lot more really bad reasons.

  Wasn't going to happen.

  "That's not a good idea."

  He arched a brow. "Why not?"

  "You know why not."

  "I think you're tempted by me."

  She laughed. "I am not. Nothing about you tempts me."

  He picked up her hand and that shock of awareness zipped through her again.

  "You sure about that?" He covered her hand with his other one.

  Warmth enveloped her, and everything within her wanted to combust. She wasn't sure about anything right now. "Absolutely."

  He leaned over and she braced herself for the onslaught, for the explosion of sensations.

  But he kissed her cheek. "Good night, Amelia."

  As he walked away and got back in the SUV, she waited, breath held, until he drove off. She exhaled and went inside, closed the door and locked it. As she leaned against the door with her eyes closed, she realized she'd never been more disappointed in her life about a man leaving her at the front door.

  Which was exactly what she'd wanted. She'd wanted him to leave her alone.

  So now she was alone. And damned disappointed about it.

  She pushed off the door and went into the kitchen, laying her purse on the island and shrugging out of her sweater.

  "You're a confused mass of contradictions, Amelia," she muttered as she made her way into the bedroom. "And you have
no idea what you really want."

  She turned on the light in the bathroom and laid her palms against the counter, glaring at herself in the mirror.

  "No, the problem is you do know what you want. And you're too afraid to have it."

  With a disgusted sigh, she wound her hair up in a clip and turned on the water so she could get ready for bed.

  EIGHT

  They were deep into the third quarter, and the Sabers were up by one touchdown against Green Bay.

  Flynn lived for games like this. When it was a blowout, that was great, too, because it meant his offense was kicking ass on all cylinders. But close games like this really put his defense to work. It was their job to keep the opposing team from scoring. A score by Green Bay would tie the game, and the Sabers had to make sure that didn't happen.

  Flynn wouldn't have it any other way.

  They lined up as Green Bay's quarterback took the snap. Flynn was quick off the line, shoving the offensive lineman out of the way. Since it was third down and long, it was a pass, and Flynn had gotten a mark on the quarterback.

  He flattened him before he got the ball off, then walked away, eyeing the quarterback to be sure he got up.

  He did, brushing off his jersey.

  Flynn was happy about the sack. So was the crowd, who roared their approval. He bumped fists with Hey Man, then they huddled up to do it all over again.

  Offensive line for Green Bay was tough, so he had to dig in and push his way forward with every snap. They were sweating through this series with every down, but they kept Green Bay from advancing more than a few yards.

  By the end of the third quarter, the Sabers were still up by one touchdown.

  Mick and the offense took care of that by scoring another seven in the fourth, giving the defense a cushion to work with.

  They battered Green Bay's offense, keeping them on their own side of the field for most of the fourth quarter. They gave up a few first downs, but other than that, Green Bay remained scoreless.

  The Sabers got the ball with three minutes left in the game, managed to get a first down and ended the game with the ball in hand.

  All in all, a solid win, especially for the defense. They'd battled hard against a really good team and won. After last week's loss, this felt damned satisfying.

  "Nice sack," Junior said as they walked off the field after the game.

  "Thanks. It was a solid team effort. We all did good today."

  "We sure as hell did, didn't we?"

  He nudged shoulders in celebration with Junior, then they headed to the locker room.

  He was stopped by media so he did a couple of short interviews first, the whole time thinking of a shower and an ice bath for his sore muscles. But they mentioned his restaurant, and he wasn't about to turn down free advertising for Ninety-Two, so he gladly took the extra five minutes to talk about the game.

  After, he hit the locker room, basked in the afterglow of the pumped-up team and coaches, then soaked in an ice bath for a good long time. He finally took a hot shower to scrub off the sweat and grime.

  By then he was starving. He knew exactly what he wanted for dinner. He drove to Ninety-Two and parked down the street, leaving the prime parking for his customers.

  He went in and greeted some of the regulars, who congratulated him on the game, so he stopped to talk to them before heading into the kitchen.

  Amelia looked up at him in surprise.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you'd be out celebrating your win with your teammates."

  "Did you catch the game?"

  She smiled at him. "I might have watched parts of it before I came in to work."

  She had totally watched the game. Why she wouldn't admit it was a mystery to him. Maybe it was because she liked him and she didn't want to admit that, either.

  "So what brings you here?" she asked.

  "Hunger."

  "Now, that I can help you with. What would you like?"

  "I've been thinking about the black bean burger all day."

  "Take a seat and I'll fix one for you. Do you want an egg on that and some sweet potato fries?"

  "Yes to both."

  She laughed. "I'll have it out to you shortly."

  "Thanks, Amelia."

  He could have sat and had one of the waitresses take the order back, but he wanted to see Amelia. After the other night at Tara's party, he realized there was something between them--something he wanted to explore further.

  He stopped at the bar to grab a beer, then found a seat at a small table in the corner to sip his beer and observe. He was happy to see the restaurant busy. His staff was good at what they did so he didn't need to hover. Ken knew what he was doing, as did the managers who worked under him.

  Grace, one of the waitresses, brought his burger out and set it in front of him.

  "Amelia wanted me to tell you that she's trying something new tonight with the sweet potato fries. She hopes you like them."

  "Thanks, Grace."

  He dug into his burger, which was delicious. Then he tried the sweet potato fries, which came with a side of dipping sauce. It surprised the hell out of him because the fries were sprinkled with something hot, and the sauce was sweet. The combination was excellent.

  He savored the meal, which went well with his beer. He could have eaten the entire meal twice. In fact, he just might since he'd burned a lot of calories during the game.

  Amelia came out after he'd eaten the last fry.

  "What did you think?" she asked.

  "My mouth is on fire from these fries. What's in them?"

  She gave him a half smile. "That's a secret."

  He laughed. "No, seriously. They were really good."

  "Some jalapeno and red peppers, along with maple syrup and caramel in the sauce. A little mix of sweet with spicy."

  "Holy crap, that was such a good idea. You're adding it to the menu, right?"

  "I'm trying it out on a few select customers over the next week to see how it plays out, but if you think it works, then yes, I'll add it to the menu."

  "Good. Oh, and speaking of caramel--but not really--there's a caramelized bluefin tuna recipe I've been meaning to try. I thought maybe we could incorporate it here."

  "Really. I'd like to hear more about it." She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen.

  "You go back to work. We can talk about it later."

  "Okay. But you've piqued my interest."

  His lips curved. "Have I? Good."

  She wandered off and he got up and decided to do a walk around the tables. He liked to keep a low profile, but it was his job as the owner to make sure his clientele were all satisfied. And a little PR every now and then wasn't a bad thing. Some people had no idea who he was, which suited him just fine. Others knew and wanted to chat football, and that was okay, too. The important thing was the food and the ambiance of the restaurant, and that's what interested him.

  All in all, everyone seemed happy, and if his customers were happy, then so was he.

  He returned to his table in the corner and made some calls to his brothers. It was a little late on the East Coast for Barrett, but that never stopped him before. Barrett told him he was up late watching sports anyway.

  Barrett had won his game today as well, so they talked football. Grant's game was tomorrow night, and they talked about how Grant had to win so they'd have the trifecta of Cassidy football wins.

  "It's too bad Tucker's baseball team is out of the postseason," Barrett said. "Otherwise it'd be perfect."

  "They made it to the division championships, though."

  "Yeah, but Tucker was pissed when they got knocked out."

  Flynn remembered that conversation. He'd called Tucker after the game. They all knew what it was like to get close but fall just short. His brother wasn't in the mood to be told what a good pitcher he was and how his team would come back even stronger next season. Not then, anyway. "Tucker's pissed unless he wins the whole thing. You know how he is." />
  Barrett laughed. "We're all that way."

  "It's in the Cassidy DNA. We don't like to lose."

  "He'll come back next season. But for now, it's all football, all the time."

  Flynn cracked a smile. "Hell yeah. And besides football, how are things with you and Harmony?"

  "They're good. She's all settled into my house now and pondering other things to renovate here."

  He laughed. "That's not a surprise."

  "Right? She already gutted my entire place and it's practically brand-new, but she can still come up with new ideas. Then when I told her she's obviously not busy enough at work, she gave me that look. You know that look."

  "Yeah, I've seen that look from her before."

  "But then I kissed her and she forgot all about expanding the guest bathroom."

  "More info than I needed, Barrett."

  Barrett laughed. "Anyway, things are good here. How about you? Any new girlfriends I need to know about?"

  "That's not going well."

  "Sorry, man. The right one is out there for you."

  Flynn glanced into the kitchen and caught a glimpse of Amelia. There was something about her that made his stomach tighten. "Yeah, maybe."

  "Don't give up. And quit choosing the wrong ones."

  "Right. Like that part's easy."

  "It's never easy, Bro. But when the right one comes along, you'll know it."

  "Hope so."

  After he got off the phone with Barrett, he checked his messages and saw he'd missed one from Mia, so he called her.

  "Shouldn't you be studying or asleep or something?"

  He heard Mia sigh on the other side of the line. "I'm a night owl and I do my best work late. Congrats on your win. You looked tough out there today."

  "Thanks. How's school?"

  "Tough as always, but I'm nearing the end of the road, so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and all those other metaphors signaling graduation isn't far off."

  Sometimes he couldn't believe his baby sister was close to getting her master's degree. She was all grown up and time had seemingly flown by. It didn't seem all that long ago that he had carried her in his arms while she sucked her thumb and laid her head on his shoulder.

  "Good. So when are you coming out here?"

  "I'll e-mail you my flight information tomorrow once I finalize my plans. I'm going to rent a car, because I'm going to be traveling around the area, plus heading down to Stanford for interviews and to look around."

  "I can drive you."

  She laughed. "I think you have enough going on with football and your new restaurant, which I'm dying to eat at."

  "I'm sitting here right now, as a matter of fact."

  "I'm jealous. And hungry."