Game for Trouble

by Karen Erickson

  “I do. How about I take my real girlfriend home with me to meet Mom and Dad?”

  Harvey leaned back in his chair, clearly confused. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “I sure do. I kept her my little secret.” And she did the same thing with him. He’d wondered more than once if she was ashamed to be seen with him. Or worried her father might find out they were together.

  He preferred keeping that shitty feeling completely out of the equation.

  “Why would you hide your new girlfriend? You’ve been sitting on a goldmine for however long and only just now think to tell me?”

  “Hey, it was no one’s business but ours.” Nick shrugged. “She’s media shy.”

  Harvey snorted. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. She’s not big on the paparazzi. I mean, who is? That’s why I haven’t paraded her around. She’s uncomfortable with all the attention.” At least, he thought she was. Plus, he’d wanted to keep Willow as his own and not share her with the world. It was kind of fun, playing the secret lovers game.

  “That sounds damn near perfect. So the sweet, media shy girl finally captures Nick Hamilton’s hardened heart? That’s going to make great copy I hope you know.” Harvey clapped his hands together. “Arrange it. Make it happen. Take the new girlfriend home to Mom and Dad and have a touching holiday moment. I’ll send a photographer and crew there and they can record everything.”

  “My dad won’t go for that.” Neither would he. “I doubt Willow would either.”

  Harvey frowned. “Wait a minute, Willow? Don’t tell me you mean Walter Cavanaugh’s daughter.”

  “One and the same.”

  “Ah hell, Nick.” Harvey grimaced. “She blows my sweet little girlfriend image right out of the water. Willow’s tough as nails and ready to fight with whoever crosses her. She’s what I would call a bad choice in girlfriends.”

  “Tough shit. I like her, Harvey. There’s no other way around it. If I do this, I’m doing it with Willow and no one else.”

  “Fine.” Harvey shook his head. “You better go talk to her then. The holidays are coming close. You need someone to take home, so if you’re hell bent on her being the one, I guess you need to ask Willow.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Good.” Harvey smiled, but it looked more like a sneer. “I’m taking this to the media, Nick. You dating lawyer-to-the-star-athletes Walter Cavanaugh’s daughter could make good press.”

  “How?” Harvey could turn anything into good press. He rattled off some explanation but Nick immediately tuned him out. What would Willow think? Did she want her father to find out?

  And what the hell would Walter do once the truth became known?

  He parted ways with Harvey minutes later, Nick’s mind racing a million miles a minute. Would she want to go home with him for the holidays or did she already have plans? God, he had no idea. He almost feared her rejection. Didn’t know if he could take it.

  The woman absolutely kept him on his toes.

  Chapter Twelve

  The moment Willow opened her door to find Nick fidgeting on her doorstep she knew something was off.

  “Wanna go somewhere and get a drink?” He smiled brightly but his eyes were dim. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for her answer, downright antsy.

  “You want to go somewhere?” Glancing down at herself, she waved a hand at her outfit. She hadn’t bothered dressing up, since she knew he was coming over, and she was tired from yet another exhausting day at work. At least this time she hadn’t opted to wear nothing at all, like the night she greeted him at the door and dropped her robe.

  Tonight she had on a pair of jeans, a favorite T-shirt, and a black oversized cardigan. Her hair was in a sloppy ponytail and most of the makeup she put on this morning had long faded away. He never complained before. Hell, most of the time he’d been so eager to get her naked, she wondered if he noticed what she was wearing at all.

  “I…yeah.” He nodded, his expression determined. “I sure as shit do, princess. Let’s do this. Let’s go out and have an amazing time at some fancy restaurant. Whatever you want, I’m buying. And then after that, let’s go have a drink. Or twenty. Yeah, let’s get good and drunk and then come back here and fuck around for the rest of the night.”

  Okay, he wasn’t acting right. He didn’t particularly care for fancy restaurants. And he wasn’t one to get shitfaced drunk, especially not during the playoffs. “Are you all right?”

  “I am right as rain. How are you doin’?” He flashed that smile again, the one that normally lit a fire in her belly and made her knees quiver but tonight, it had an almost desperate edge to it.

  “Come in here.” She grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him inside, shutting the door behind her and twisting the lock into place. “Let’s stay in tonight. It’s cold out there.”

  “But…wherever you wanna go, darlin’, I’m game. My treat. You could order fifty lobsters for dinner, and I won’t protest.”

  She grimaced. “I hate lobster.”

  “You do not,” he said, frowning. “You grew up here. You can pluck a lobster straight out of the ocean from your dad’s deck.”

  “Just because I grew up here doesn’t mean I have to love seafood.” She scrunched her nose. How she hated explaining this. No one ever got it. “I’ve never been a big fan. Lobster’s sorta freaky. Crab is too much work, not enough reward. I don’t mind shrimp, though. You can just pop them in your mouth and eat them.”

  “I’ll take you out for all you can eat shrimp, then. You can stuff your face until you wanna burst,” he suggested eagerly.

  Laughing, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’d rather stay in tonight with you.” She sobered up quick. The more they stayed in the better. This so-called relationship needed to stay quiet. One mention of it to the media, local or bigger, and all hell was going to break loose. As in, her father would have an epic freak-out.

  “We always do that, though. Stay in.” He scowled. “Aren’t you getting bored?”

  Oh, no. “Are you?” God, he was already tired of her. Really, she shouldn’t care. She should be glad. The faster she got rid of him, the better.

  Right?

  “No. Hell, no. Anytime I’m with you is good, Will.” He reached for her, settling those big hands on her hips. Dipping his head, he bent his knees a little so he could peer directly into her eyes. “Are you getting sick of me yet?”

  She pressed her lips together to keep from saying what she really wanted. I could never get sick of you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  “No. Well. Your constant sweet talk is getting sort of old.” She rolled her eyes, putting on an act. Nothing Nick did when they were together was getting old.

  His mouth curved upward. “What are you talking about?”

  “All the darlin’s and the sugars and the princess remarks. I think you say that sort of thing so you never have to worry about the name of the girl you’re with,” she teased.

  His face turned frightfully solemn. “You really think that?”

  Uh oh. She shrugged. “I’ve wondered.”

  “Really.” His fingers bit into her flesh, he held her so tight.

  “Maybe?” He had her doubting herself. How did he do that?

  Dope. He constantly keeps you on edge.

  “Trust me, I always know who I’m with when I’m with you.” He kissed her—the softest, sweetest kiss ever. So soft, so sweet, she immediately wanted to weep when he pulled away to murmur against her lips, “Willow.”

  He never called her Willow. Ever.

  She melted into him like a lovesick idiot, sliding her hands up his chest so she could grip his shoulders. His hands smoothed around her, settling on her backside, and he drew her against his rigid erection. “I thought maybe you were getting sick of not doing anything but staying here.”

  “Nick. Every time we’re together, we do lots of stuff.” She hooked her han
ds around his neck and tugged, wanting his mouth on hers again. “Lots of amazing, fun stuff.”

  “I forced you to go on these so-called dates,” he said with a chuckle, though his expression was somber. “Sort of fucked up, don’t you think? I mean, what the hell are we doing? Me blackmailing you, our fighting early on…though we’ve been getting along better lately, don’t you think?”

  She couldn’t answer, could only stare at his ruggedly handsome face, those pretty blue eyes watching her just as carefully as she watched him.

  “I’m an ass for what I’m doing to you,” he admitted, his voice full of remorse.

  “It may have started out with you forcing me to spend time with you.” She weaved her fingers into his hair. “But I feel like I’ve been given a whole lot more,” she whispered just before she stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. She couldn’t believe she said that. How she gave away a piece of herself to him with that one small admission. But he was acting odd tonight. Like he needed reassurance. She wanted to give him some, wanted to make him feel better.

  “Same here, Will. Damn, same here.” He kissed her, his tongue doing wondrous things as it plumbed the depths of her mouth. Her head spinning, she clung to him, afraid she might slither to the floor if she let go.

  She never wanted to let go.

  Somehow they ended up in her bedroom, though she still wasn’t quite sure how they made it. He undressed her, his fingers skimming bare skin, teasing her, making her hot for him.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She was always hot for him.

  Just as quickly, she stripped him, ridding him of everything except his dark blue boxer briefs. The soft cotton strained against his thick thighs, his bulging erection, and she took a step back, admiring this man who’d so effectively immersed himself into her life she didn’t know what would happen when he left her.

  Because he would leave—he had before. What they shared between them was temporary. Nick didn’t do permanent.

  Neither did she.

  “Like what you see?” he drawled. They’d had this conversation in a variety of ways since the first time she said it to him. His words were teasing, his mouth smiling, but his eyes looked dreadfully serious.

  She decided to be honest. Tonight didn’t seem like a time for barbed comments and arguments fueled by mounting sexual tension. She was past it. More than anything, she needed to be honest.

  “Definitely.” She shoved at his shoulders so he sat on the edge of the mattress, staring up at her, his hands on her waist. “So much for all you can eat shrimp, hmm?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You always keep me on my toes, you know that, Will?”

  She smoothed his hair away from his forehead, reveling in its silky softness. How she enjoyed touching him. Looking at him. Teasing him. She was venturing into dangerous territory so easily and ever since they first started this silly date deal, she hadn’t been trying to stop it. “Someone has to.”

  Leaning in, he kissed her stomach, his mouth soft. Damp. “You make me never want to leave this bed. Fuck everything else.”

  “What about food?”

  “I could feast on you.” He rained tiny kisses all over her stomach.

  “What about—what about football?” Her breath hitched when he licked her hipbone.

  “You give me enough game play to last a lifetime.” He tightened his arms around her waist, bringing her closer.

  She refused to read into what he just said. Refused, refused, refused.

  “I don’t need anything else as long as I have you by my side.”

  “Nick…” God, his words were killing her. Not to mention the sincerity written all over his face. She’d never, ever seen him look at her like this, his gaze full of solemn reverence. Like he wanted to keep her around.

  Forever.

  …

  Nick waited for Willow to push him away. Or worse, make some sarcastic remark and ruin the moment completely.

  But she didn’t. She stood before him like some sort of naked goddess, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, covering her breasts. She trembled in his arms, her hands combing through his hair, her gaze steady on his.

  Damn. This was a moment. One that he knew would be etched in his memory for the rest of his life. The night he knew he’d fallen completely in love with Willow.

  “Come here,” he murmured, falling backward on the bed, taking her with him. She fell on top of him, soft and warm, her breasts nestled against his chest, her face in his. Bracing herself with her hands, she lifted away from him, sitting up so she straddled him.

  “I’ve always been a fan of this position,” she said with a smile, shifting against him.

  The serious moment was gone, which was probably best. She didn’t want to hear any proclamations of love. Hell, he wasn’t necessarily ready to make them either. But still. It was there. Thumping through his heart, flowing through his blood, skimming over his skin.

  Love. Love for Willow. He was fucking in love with her. He was the man for her.

  Did she realize his intentions yet? Or did she think he still only thought of her as a hot piece of ass?

  Well, she was a hot piece of ass, but there was so much more to her. Smart. A little sassy. Sexy as hell. Thoughtful. Daring. Driven. Full of so much fire he had a hard time controlling her sometimes.

  He sorta liked that.

  “I like this position, too,” he said as she started to move, rocking against him, teasing the hell out of him considering he still had his underwear on. Her breasts swayed with the movement, her hips undulating against his, and he gripped her by the waist again, stopping her. He wanted to feel nothing but skin on skin between them. Fuck the barriers. They needed to shed both the physical and the emotional ones. “You trying to kill me?”

  She smiled. “Always. You sort of deserve it.”

  “Witch,” he murmured, pleasure rippling through him when she moved away so she could tug down his underwear. “You want me to die?”

  “Not really. You want me to cast a spell on you?” She quickly disposed of his briefs, tossing them on the floor before she climbed back on top of him.

  He laughed at her not really response. “I think that’s already happened, darlin’. I’m completely captivated.” Lord help him, wasn’t that the truth?

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that.” She ground against him. All that wet heat was a complete tease on his aching dick. Damn, she felt good. Too good. He could probably come like this if she kept that up.

  “Grab a condom before I explode,” he said through clenched teeth, desperate to be inside her. It took no time, and he wanted her. He always wanted her—didn’t think he’d grow tired of her anytime soon, either.

  “Yes, sir.” She plucked one from the bedside table and within moments, he was suited up, moving inside her. She kept a slow, sensuous rhythm, riding him shamelessly, her head back, her eyes closed, hands braced on his chest, breasts bouncing.

  Fuck, she was beautiful like this. He was tired of pretending what they were doing meant nothing. Time to take it to the next step.

  But would she want to?

  He hadn’t lied when he told her she kept him on his toes. He was never sure what she could be thinking, what she wanted to do next. If she might turn on him or be sweet and accepting—though lately she was more on the sweet and accepting side, thank Christ. She still liked to indulge in the sassy attitude, which he didn’t mind.

  Was she putting up some sort of facade, though? Pretending with him, going through the motions? The sex between them was phenomenal. He knew she felt the connection they shared.

  He just wasn’t sure if she was willing to take it further.

  “Nick.” She moaned his name, and he opened his eyes to find her watching him, grinding on him, her hips working. He gripped her waist to slow her down because damn, he wanted this to last.

  But his woman had other plans in mind.

  “Feels so good,” she whispered, her eyes shuttering closed. She was into it,
lost in her own little world, and he watched in total amazement as her brows furrowed, her mouth pursed. “God, you feel so good, Nick. Please…”

  “Willow.” Her eyes opened when he said her name and he slipped his hands behind her back, pushing her down so her face was on his. “Kiss me, princess.”

  She latched her lips to his, kissing him hungrily. He cupped the back of her head, keeping her mouth on his as he thrust deep inside her, desperately chasing his orgasm, hopefully catching hers, too.

  Whimpering against his mouth, she started to shake, little cries escaping her as she came, sending him straight into his own orgasm.

  So easily, it damn near killed him.

  …

  “I wanna ask you something,” he said hours later. They lay tangled in the covers, sated and sleepy, his fingers in her hair, her lips to his chest.

  “No, I really don’t like seafood,” she said, her voice a soft tease. He could literally feel her smile against his skin.

  Which made him smile in the darkness even though she couldn’t see him. “I get that. Well, I don’t get it, but whatever. I have something else I want to ask you.”

  “What?”

  “I was wondering…” He swallowed hard, irritated with his chicken shit behavior. “It’s almost Christmas, you know.”

  She stiffened. It was subtle, but he knew that soft, curvy body of hers well enough to feel it. “Yeah.”

  “What are you doing for the holidays?”

  Lifting up on one arm, she squinted at him, making him thankful it was mostly dark. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Just asking.” He added a shrug, but she kept on looking at him, so intently he wanted to squirm.

  “My dad is going to Aspen,” she said once she settled back against his chest.

  “Swanky. You going with him?” Her dad. He’d almost forgotten all about Walter. He certainly didn’t want to think about him now when he was in bed with Willow.

  Would Walter still be upset about Nick dating his daughter again? Or would he finally let her live her own life and make her own choices?

  “I can’t. I have to work,” she said simply.

  “You have to work on Christmas?” Yeah, he’d played games on Christmas Eve before, but this seemed extreme.