by Hart, Romi
Clearing her throat, she answered in her best professional tone, “Reesa Brighton speaking. How may I help you?” Kylie rolled her eyes, and Reesa stuck her tongue out in a juvenile gesture.
“It already helps to hear your voice.” The rich, smooth baritone nearly knocked Reesa off her feet, and her eyes widened, her heart palpitating and her head spinning.
She bit her lip, glancing out the corner of her eyes at Kylie. “Marc?” Kylie squealed and slapped her hand over her mouth to cover the sound at Reesa’s warning glare. “This is…unexpected.”
“I told you I was going to call you. You really didn’t believe me.” He chuckled softly, and she sturdied herself against the chill of pleasure that crawled up her spine. “I hope maybe now your opinion of me will improve.”
Swallowing her pride and wishing she was alone, she replied, “I don’t have a problem with you specifically, Marc, and I appreciate that you’re a man of your word. But you haven’t told me why you called.”
“Fair enough. I called because I wanted to thank you for a lovely evening.”
“Three days later?” she asked, a little snippier than she meant. She turned her back to Kylie, who motioned to her about what she should say or do. “If you really had such a wonderful time, why wait?”
He didn’t answer at first, but finally he said, “I thought you could use the time and space to make up your mind about me. I didn’t think I’d have much luck calling you and asking to see you again right away.”
Smiling to herself, Reesa shook her head. “Probably a good judgment call, unless you’re a glutton for punishment. So, you really want to do this?”
“Do what, ask you out again? I’m a pretty confident man, Reesa. When I make up my mind about something, I typically know I want to follow through. I picked up the phone knowing I wanted to hear your voice and try to convince you to see me again. I hoped I might catch you before dinner tonight.”
“You’re shit out of luck on that one. Sorry,” she told him. “I just finished eating.”
“My loss then,” he said, but he didn’t sound disappointed. “Then maybe you can come to the scrimmage tomorrow, and then I can take you to dinner. You can sit up in the box with all the most important people, and then I’ll take you out wherever you like for dinner.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Anywhere, huh?”
“Anywhere at all.”
“And what if I want to come home alone and eat?” She waved Kylie away as her friend approached and started waving and shaking her head wildly. “Would you be okay with that?”
“I’d be disappointed, of course. But if that’s what you really wanted, I’d do it. I told you, I’m a gentleman at heart. I’m not going to push you to do anything you don’t want to do. I let you make the first move, didn’t I?”
Reesa winced at the truth of his words. She couldn't doubt him. In all fairness, he'd done exactly as he promised, all the way around. It terrified her to think about going out on what amounted to a real date with Marc, but a part of Reesa yearned for a chance to truly adult. Outside of work, she did very little adulting, aside from going to a pub for a drink with Kylie now and then. It might do her some good to expand her horizons, even if that meant seeing Marc again.
Besides, he was pretty easy on the eyes.
“You’re too quiet. Are you trying to find an excuse not to come?”
She could easily say no, give him any reason in the world. It didn't have to be true or even make sense. But Reesa found herself warming up to the idea. "Tell me about the scrimmage," she hedged. "I thought this was the offseason."
“It’s a charity function. We’re playing the New York FC to raise money for the Children’s Cancer Foundation. I thought you might appreciate coming to this particular game more than others.”
She could hear the pleasure in his voice at his sneaky little urging, the teasing lilt telling her he knew she couldn’t turn him down now. “Well, now, that does sound like fun. I guess I could show up for that.”
“And dinner?” he asked, his tone hopeful.
“We’ll see how it goes. Is that good enough?”
“I guess it has to be.” He fell silent, and she wondered if he’d hung up. Then, in a low voice she could barely hear, he added, “You should know I’ve been thinking about your lips since I walked away from you, and I might have an urge to satisfy my craving.”
Reesa gulped back a moan. She couldn’t lose control in front of Kylie, and she didn’t want to encourage Marc any further. In a strained voice, she told him, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“We certainly will,” he agreed with a rough laugh. “Be ready at noon. I’ll pick you up, and you can meet the teams before we start the game. I’ll see you then.”
He hung up before she could respond, and she stared at her phone for a moment before placing it carefully on the table. In a daze, she turned to Kylie, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her friend stared back in anticipation that wasn’t the least bit controlled. “So?” Kylie finally asked, unable to resist.
"It looks like I might have been wrong about never seeing Marc again. He's picking me up tomorrow." Saying the words out loud sent a wave of excitement roiling through her, dread on its heels. This was a terrible idea, and she considered dialing him back and canceling. But she wasn't a coward, and if she was honest with herself, Reesa had to admit Kylie hit the nail on the head when she talked about chemistry.
And this time, she wouldn’t have to worry about being a one-night-stand. Two dates made a difference, right? At least, that’s what she told herself.
Kylie practically bounced up and down. “I can’t believe this is happening! Come on, we’re going shopping.”
“Kylie, I haven’t even finished my dinner. And it’s just a game…” She stopped trying as her friend dumped their food in the trash and gathered their purses from the hooks on the wall. They’d eaten early, and the stores would remain open for hours still. When Kylie got something like this in her head, there was no talking her out of it. Reluctantly, she followed her friend out the door, locking it behind her and suddenly wondering just what she should wear to an event like this.
Chapter 3
The nerves plaguing Reesa fell away as Marc introduced her to his teammates. She'd purposely not let him into her apartment when he'd come to pick her up, and she'd avoided any contact, including holding hands. She didn't want to encourage Marc to make a move, and he already seemed excited as he continuously ogled her. Secretly, she preened at his attention and apparent approval. After all, she'd spent a pretty penny on the sparkly leggings, the fitted blue sweater that came to mid-thigh, and the Nikes that matched. And she'd spent more time than usual getting her hair straightened this morning and making sure her makeup was flawless.
She told herself it was more to impress a crowd than just for Marc, and it seemed to work. Everyone from the players to the coach to the reporters took notice of her. Reesa wasn’t used to that, but it definitely helped her ego. Marc didn’t seem to have a problem with it, either, though his hand finally settled at the small of her back, almost possessively, as he walked her up to the press box, where she’d have the best vantage point for the game.
“If you need anything, you can ask Ted,” he told her, introducing her to the media coordinator. “Ted, this is Reesa, the special guest I told you about.”
Ted was probably in his early fifties, with dark hair graying at the temples in a neat, short style and a grin that deepened the lines around his eyes. He was thin and fit with a strong handshake, and Reesa took an instant liking to him. “Welcome, Reesa. We’re glad to have you. I’m going to call down and have a bottle of wine brought up with some fruit and cheese and crackers. Would that work for you?”
Reesa had never attended a live sports event and was so giddy she didn’t know if she could eat, but she smiled graciously and nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Marc’s hand on her arm drew her attention, and she turned to raise an eyebr
ow at him. His gaze was heated as he stepped closer, speaking in a low tone meant only for her ears. “Don’t get too friendly with Ted. He’s a flirt, and I might get jealous.” He punctuated his words with a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth, and then he hurried off to get ready to play.
While she knew he didn’t speak with any sort of malice, something about Marc’s words rang an alarm in Reesa’s head, and she hugged herself against a sudden chill. She didn’t like the idea of a man being overly possessive, and it bothered her. Then again, maybe it was just her past haunting her. Reesa shook it off. It wasn’t like she intended to get involved with Marc, and she wanted to have a good time.
Once the tray of goodies and wine arrived, and the game was underway, her concern was forgotten, and she lost herself in the joy of the afternoon. The Sounders won the game, 4-1, and Ted had an intern named Paul escort her down to the locker room, where she waited in the small lobby outside, refusing to enter the sacred room of male bonding. She didn’t need her senses assaulted by the mingling sweat of three dozen men and the view of most of them barely clad, if at all.
Mostly, she knew she might make a fool of herself if she happened to catch sight of Marc fresh out of the shower.
When the door opened, she looked up expectantly, but it was Jordan Dennison who walked through the door rather than Marc. He smiled, his long blond locks still tousled from toweling them and his skin ruddy from the exertion on the field and likely very hot water. He walked over and took a seat next to her. “You know, Marc’s never brought anyone – family, friend, or woman – to a game before. You must have gotten under his skin.”
When she met him briefly earlier, Reesa hadn’t caught Jordan’s Australian accent, but it was thick, and it took her a moment to shift her focus to his words instead. She scowled. “I doubt he’s never brought anyone. I mean, have the two of you been on the same team for every game of his career?”
Jordan chuckled. “Actually, yes. I predate him by a year and might retire after next season. I may not have made a big name like he has, but I’ve been an asset here long enough that they’ve let me stick around.” He grew serious. “You haven’t known my mate very long.”
Reesa didn’t know where this conversation would lead, but she felt a sense of dread as she nodded. “Only a few days. We sort of met by accident, and we spent a couple of hours together.”
“Do I need to worry about you hurting him?” Jordan asked, every inch of his body tense, as if ready to spring at her if she gave him any reason to doubt.
Gazing at him with wide eyes, she told him, “It’s not like that. This is casual, for both of us.” How else could she describe it? She wasn’t invested in the idea of a relationship, and as Jordan had pointed out, she and Marc had only just met. Marc hadn’t had time to think that far ahead. “But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t hurt people, and I certainly don’t want to hurt Marc.”
He stared at her intensely, and she fought not to squirm under his scrutiny. Then, he laughed, his entire countenance changing in an instant. “Of course not. You’re a good woman, I can tell.” He stood, and despite his broad grin, his blue eyes held a warning. “But I know my mate, and he’s not the sort of person to be casual about anything.”
With that, he left the room, and Reesa again felt that chill creep down her back. She should keep her guard up when it came to Marc. She’d been fooled once and suffered the consequences. She wouldn’t let herself end up in that position again.
Marc came into the lobby then, just on the heels of Jordan’s departure, and despite all her misgivings, she couldn’t feel suspicious in his presence. She also couldn’t help but swallow hard at the image he presented, his skin and hair still damp, his shirt thrown over his arm so his chest was still bare for her to appreciate. His jeans hung low on his hips, giving her a glimpse of the deep lines that led in a V to more intimate parts of him.
Did his eyes twinkle and his chest puff out a little? Could he sense her reaction as her nipples puckered and hardened inside her bra? Or maybe he could smell her arousal as she grew a bit damp between her thighs. He stepped directly in front of her and reached down, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet so barely an inch remained between them. She held her breath, knowing that inhaling too deeply would cause her to brush against the hard expanse of his chest, and she balled her hands into fists at her side to keep from reaching up to toy with the thin smattering of hair.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, searching her face.
“Very much,” she answered honestly, smiling in relief. Questions she could handle. “You played well.”
“I do my best, whether the game counts toward the season or not. That’s how our team does things.” He nodded toward the door. “I saw Jordan leaving. He wasn’t rude, was he? He can be a bit intense and standoffish.”
Intense was an understatement, but he certainly had no problem addressing her. “No, he stopped to talk for a minute before he left,” Reesa told him, trying to sound lighthearted about it.
“Good.” He backed up and pulled on his shirt, much to her relief, though an image of his muscles and the deep lines that accented them were already burned into her brain. “So, have you made your mind up about dinner?”
Ten minutes ago, she’d thought about a nice evening on the town. Five minutes ago, she’d been ready to run and hide from him. Now…everything kept changing, and suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to end their time together just yet, especially convinced that she had to cut it off after today. That made her less than willing to share his attention with the world, wanting to pretend all this was real and that she was normal, could have a normal date.
Determined to get the most out of this one last adventure, she asked, “How would you feel about coming over to my place? We can pick up some pretty great Chinese food downstairs and bring it up.”
Marc’s pupils dilated, and his gaze strolled up and down her body. “Reesa, it’s not nice to test a man’s control. I promised to be a gentleman—“
“And if you break that promise, I know how to throw you out,” she told him firmly. “You said I could have anything I wanted, right? I want to invite you over into the comfort of my home, where we can relax and talk and maybe watch a movie.”
“I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my evening,” he said, taking her hand firmly and guiding her out of the room. If she was making a mistake, it was too late to back out now. Reesa was a strong woman, and she could handle any situation like an adult. Whatever happened for the rest of the evening, she could deal with the consequences. Even if saying goodbye later left her wishing things could be different.
Chapter 4
Reesa’s sides hurt, and her face ached with the laughter they’d shared all evening. “And how old were you?” she asked as Marc finished telling a hilarious story about his first fight.
“I was eleven. And I never knew what hit me. I had to get the details from my friend Bobby later. Needless to say, I learned at an early age that I’m no fighter, and I haven’t had a brawl since.” His eyes sparkled with delight, and she admired that he could share something most men would consider a weakness, despite his rather large ego.
They sat on opposite sides of her oversized loveseat, turned to face each other, the empty cartons of food long discarded on the heavy mahogany coffee table. The camaraderie came easily between them, almost easier than her friendship with Kylie at times. Her best friend’s energy could get a little neurotic and overwhelming. Marc remained calm and aloof, even when his expression constantly belied his intense passion for life.
“At least you know your limitations,” she commented.
“It’s a constant learning curve,” he chuckled. “What about you? Have you ever gotten into a fight? Clawed some girl’s face and pulled her hair over a boy or anything?”
Reesa froze, her chest paralyzed in mid-breath. This didn't feel right, and she answered quietly, "No, I've never had a girl fight." Lightening her statement before he co
uld question her, she smiled and added, "I didn't exactly care too much about romance and all that in school. And I didn't have much time for it later."
Marc reached out and stroked her cheek, a soft but teasing smile on his lips. “I can’t imagine how any of the guys let you get away with that. You’re beautiful, Reesa, and you’re too much fun to be around. And if you don’t believe me, didn’t you see the way everyone ate you up today?”
She knew she was blushing fiercely, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his touch, barely able to keep from leaning into it. Never had anyone caressed her face so tenderly, looked at her with such adoration. Even if it wasn’t real and it was all about breaking down her shields, it felt good for a change.
Not even Ethan had given her that.
The name rolled through her mind and brought her back to reality. Slowly, she backed away from Marc and got to her feet, starting to clean up the mess on the table. “What’s wrong, Reesa?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just getting late, and I have to work tomorrow. I don’t want to wake up and have to clean first thing in the morning.”
“Reesa, stop. I don’t know what I did to upset you, but I’m sorry.” Reesa kept moving, not addressing his comment. She couldn’t, or she would explode with emotion. “Reesa, please.” He stood and touched her arm, but she shook him off.
When he touched her again, she whirled on him, fire in her eyes. “I’ve enjoyed our evening up to this point, Marc, but it’s time to call it a night.”
“You don’t want that.” His voice was low, could be construed as menacing if she didn’t know better. Marc’s eyes pleaded with her, begged her not to turn him away, though his face set into a demanding expression. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Just don’t push me away right now.”