“Hey, Hartless. You joining us at Byrne’s for lunch?” Baz called out.
Man, he was tired of that name.
“No, he’s having lunch with me.”
Ethan spun on his heel, seeing his agent walking down the corridor. He didn’t remember scheduling a meeting with Sam.
“Came down to discuss your contract and thought we’d grab lunch,” Sam said, when he reached Ethan’s side.
“Yeah, sure.” Ethan tried to read his agent’s expression, but Sam’s face was blank. Ethan wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. The man’s poker face was one of the reasons Ethan had signed with him. He hadn’t expected Sam to be discussing contracts yet, but hopefully he had good news for Ethan.
Ethan said goodbye to his teammates.
“There’s a restaurant right up the street. Best steak in town. It literally melts in your mouth,” Sam said as Ethan followed him out of the arena, unable to quell his chuckle. The man was always in search for the best steak.
“You know, I’m still surprised that you wanted to stay with the Strikers,” Sam said once their lunch order was placed and the waiter left the table.
So was he. He’d been shocked by the trade announcement in July and had planned to bide his time before getting the hell out of the town he’d grown up in. The town—the family—he wanted nothing to do with.
“Yeah. Things change,” Ethan said. “So how are negotiations going?”
“Your point streak is helping, but the numbers still aren’t where I want them.”
“I’m working on that. Just have to continue this streak.”
“That will help. But they are hesitating to ink a big deal this early. Want to see how you gel with the team. You’ve been great with the media. No issues,” Sam said.
“But they’re waiting for me to fuck up.” Not that he intended to go out and party his ass off or act inappropriately, but it chafed. He couldn’t totally fault them on that. His track record wasn’t stellar. But that was in the past. The General Manager was a stickler for presenting the best image. They were supposed to be role models. Embarrassments to the team were not tolerated, which was why Ethan had been surprised that the Strikers wanted him.
“You just have to give it some time. Give it another month. Keep your nose out of trouble, and we’ll go back to negotiations. It probably sucks living like a monk, but it’s working. Then you can hook up with anyone you want. Let’s just get the contract done first, before you go back to your old ways.”
“Shouldn’t be an issue.” He didn’t have any desire to party like he had before. To see his picture splashed on social media.
“You’ve been good since you got here. No random puck bunnies posting pics of you in bed.”
He was still pissed about that. It’d only happened twice, and hadn’t been more than his face and maybe a shoulder, but it could’ve turned into something more. He’d made sure to never fall asleep at another woman’s place after that.
“Actually, you’ve been almost saint-like.” Sam eyed him. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“No. I’m still settling in. I haven’t gone out with anyone.” He hesitated in admitting that. Sam had been with him since he’d moved up to the big leagues six years ago. He’d been playing the field since everything had blown up with Julie right before he left the minors. But he was tired of the games.
It had nothing to do with Penny. He bit back his snort. Even he knew that was a load of shit. While she might not be the sole reason for his newfound desire to steer clear of bunnies, he’d be an idiot not to realize that she had a lot to do with it. And now that she was his accountant, he had every excuse to see her. Maybe she’d be up for dinner tomorrow night.
“You disappear on me?” Sam asked, cutting through Ethan’s thoughts.
“What? No. Just annoyed that they’re holding back.”
“You could always find a nice girl to settle down with. Bet management would love that.” Sam bit out a harsh laugh. “Who am I kidding? Hartless settle down. That’ll be the day.”
He hated the idea of Sam learning about Penny. Not that he was settling down any time soon. But thinking about it no longer made him break out into hives. What was she doing to him? And why didn’t he care to fight it?
Chapter 7
This day needed to end—desperately needed to end. Penny finally had her office to herself, and all she wanted to do was bang her head on her desk. Kevin had just vacated the chair next to her after another bout of training. Bout being the appropriate word since she felt like she’d just gone a few rounds against stupidity, and it was draining. She was also at her wit’s end with Kevin, but at least she’d finished her work for the day before he’d popped his head in. She’d been doing that lately, rushing through her work in case he stopped by.
Accountants should never rush. If she missed something, and her clients were audited, they’d be livid with her, and she’d be out of a job. Which had led to her triple checking her work on the days that Kevin didn’t show up in the afternoon. Not that she didn’t at least double check everything to begin with, but it was irritating as hell.
Kevin refused to take notes, showed up late for their scheduled trainings, and never retained anything. Thus, the life of an over-privileged son. She didn’t know why Alan was determined to make his son learn the business, but Kevin saw it as a meal ticket and pretended to care whenever his father stopped by. How could she tell her boss that his son was a complete waste of time?
So here she was. Stuck training someone who didn’t care that there were other qualified candidates available to hire. Add the constant thoughts about Ethan, and she was beyond annoyed. And frustrated, since all she could think about was taking him up on his offer of a nap. Not that she had time to nap. But she missed snuggling up against his overly warm body.
She shook her head, the numbers on the screen dancing in front of her. Numbers didn’t dance. They were placed in a logical straight line, sorted in perfect columns. She liked columns and lists and logic and…
“Ouch,” she muttered as she spun in her chair and whacked her knee on her desk drawer. Why wasn’t it shut? Oh right, because she was distracted as hell, and had been about to grab a file when her thoughts had turned to Ethan once again.
“Knock, knock.”
Speak of the devil. Oh God, why was he here? She slammed the drawer shut and smoothed down her skirt before telling him to come in.
“Hi. What are you doing here?” she asked as he walked into her office and propped his ass on the edge of her desk next to her. What was wrong with the perfectly good chair across from her desk? The chair that wouldn’t cause his pants to stretch tightly across his impressive thighs, only to be matched by his equally impressive ass. Not that it was on display right now, but she knew it was there.
“Thought I’d stop in to see how my books were doing.”
“Really?” She held back her snort. No one stopped in to check up on their accountant. He was transparent, and in that moment, she was totally on board with that.
“I should take a more active interest in my accounting.”
“So why are you really here?” She couldn’t fight her smile. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t so damn charming. Again, sweet Ethan was going to wreck her, but she was starting to not care.
“Just checking in. Is Kevin giving you grief?”
She paused. “Wait. How did you know about Kevin?”
“You mentioned him to Robert last week and looked annoyed.”
And he’d caught on to that and followed up? Screwed. She was totally screwed.
“Just another frustrating day of training,” she said, and then paused. “Please don’t tell your uncle I said that.”
“I wouldn’t. Anything you tell me remains between us, I promise.” His blue eyes shone with sincerity, and she wanted to believe him.
“I haven’t had a chance to go through your file yet. Did you want to discuss anything in particular? And did you want t
o take a seat?” She gestured to the chair safely on the other side of her desk.
He shifted on her desk, his jeans lovingly encasing his strong thighs. What would they feel like beneath her as she straddled his hips? They hadn’t been able to do that on account of her knee and its refusal to bend correctly after her injury. But she’d wanted to. Hell, she still wanted to. Heat rushed to every part of her body, zinging down to her toes. She resisted the urge to hide under her desk until her flaming cheeks settled down.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, shifting again on her desk, and she refused to stare at his lap—or his face. She spun back to her computer, her fingers skimming over the keyboard much like they had over his abs all those months ago.
“Nothing. I should probably get back to work unless you needed something.” She took in deep calming breaths, willing her pulse to chill the fuck out already.
“Does this bother you? Me sitting here?”
“It’s very unprofessional,” she replied.
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t work here.” That damn crooked smile deepened. She wanted to run her hands along the stubble at his jaw. She remembered how it felt between her thighs. Get a hold of yourself! She shook her head before looking up. Today’s deep blue shirt brought out his eyes. Why did he always have to look so scrumptious?
“Yes, it is,” she mumbled before her cell phone started ringing the specific tone she’d set up for her mother. How much stress could be piled on her in one day? She ignored the call and turned back to Ethan.
“Join me for an early dinner. I don’t have a game tonight, and it looks like you could use a break,” he said.
“Ethan,” she started, just as her office phone rang. This time she looked at the caller ID. She’d learned her lesson last week when Michael had called. It was her mother again.
“Just a friendly bite to eat, I promise,” he continued.
“Okay.”
“It’s just dinner—wait, did you just agree?” His smile reached up to his eyes.
She nodded. She’d agreed before she could second guess herself and because she wanted to get out of her office before her phone rang again.
“Ah, where do you want to go?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You invited me. Where did you plan on taking me?”
“To bed?”
“Why do you have to ruin the moment?” She tried to hide her smile.
He grinned. “Sorry, you caught me off guard. I didn’t think you’d agree.”
“I do have a lot of work to finish…”
“Nope, we’re going out.” He stood up and held out his hand.
A spark shot through her when their palms met. She let him pull her from her seat and help her into her coat. A shiver rolled through her as he brushed her curls away from her coat collar. She gasped when she felt his lips at her nape.
“Did you just sniff me?” she asked, pulling away from him.
“Of course not,” he scoffed, straightening his own coat.
“Umm, I’m pretty sure you did.”
“Maybe I tripped and my nose hit your neck,” he said, the corners of his mouth tilting up in a small smile.
“Tripped?”
“Yeah. Your clumsiness must be rubbing off on me,” he said, his grin widening.
“I don’t think it works that way.” She smiled.
“Sorry, I love your neck.”
“Don’t make me regret this,” she said as she walked out of her office.
“You won’t,” he promised.
Ethan couldn’t believe she’d said yes to dinner as they walked down the block to a restaurant she’d mentioned. She must be stressed. He wanted to have a few words with Kevin. Or his uncle. But he’d promised not to say anything to Robert. It wasn’t his place to step in, regardless of how much he wanted to.
“Why did you finally agree to dinner?” Ethan asked as soon as they sat down and the waiter had left with their drink order.
“Because I’m having a shit day and wanted to get out of the office. And because I miss you.” The second statement was a whisper, and he couldn’t believe she’d actually said it.
He reached across the table, running his thumb over the back of her hand. She pulled her hand away, gripping the menu.
“Ethan, we can’t just pick up where we left off.” Her eyes drew him in.
“You keep saying that, but you agreed to dinner, so I thought—”
“I still work for your uncle, and you are now my client. We can be friends,” she said.
“Can we? After everything we did together, the time we spent together, you can just be friends?” He knew he was laying it on thick, but he was determined.
“Don’t push me on this, Ethan. My job is extremely important to me, and I really should tell Robert about this,” she said, waving her hand between them.
“We don’t need to tell him just yet, and I promise that I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Somehow, I doubt that, but thanks.”
“Scout’s Honor.” He held up two fingers. That was the sign for a Scout, right?
She snorted. “Sure, like you were ever a Boy Scout.”
“I’m really good at tying knots.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. Her musical laughter washed over him. This. This was what he’d missed for the last six months.
“Such a perv.”
“But not a creepy one, right?”
She chuckled. Watching her shoulders shake with humor made him smile, and he remembered the first night he’d asked her to dinner after their vineyard tour all those months ago. He hadn’t been ready to leave her, and he’d promised her he wasn’t a creepy stalker. She’d continued to tease him about that comment for the rest of the trip. He’d missed the ease they had. He wanted that back—more than he should.
“So, tell me about the rest of your time in Italy. Did you go back to Siena for Il Palio?” She played with her straw, twirling it around in her glass. It was distracting as hell, watching her nails tap the top of the straw, reminding him of her nails skating down his chest.
Get a grip. He shifted in his seat as she eyed him questioningly. What were they talking about? Oh, right, the famous horse race.
“Yes, we went back for the second race in August. It was amazing. The same horse won both races. That never happens,” he said. “And the horse’s name was Penelope.”
“You’re lying,” she scoffed.
“I’m serious. Look it up. I think it translated to Precious Penelope,” he said, and she already had her phone out, her fingers flying over the screen.
“Holy crap. What are the odds? Preziosa Penelope won both races. It says that it’s only happened like three times. Did you get any pictures of the horse crossing the finish line? I want to see my namesake.”
He laughed. “Aside from all the pageantry before the race, most of my pictures from the actual event are chaotic and dusty.”
“I bet.”
“But I do have a few of them on my phone,” he said, turning his phone on and thumbing through the pictures before holding it out for her. “Just swipe left.”
She took it from him, her fingers brushing his. He would not focus on the need in his belly at her touch.
“Just left? What happens if I swipe right?” she asked, her finger poised over the screen.
“Swipe whichever way you want. It’s mostly Italy pics. I told you there weren’t any other women after you.”
“I wasn’t asking about that,” she said, her voice low. “Oh,” she gasped.
“What?” he asked, leaning across the table.
She turned the phone to face him. It was the last picture they had taken together—a selfie he’d demanded. She was laughing behind a glass of wine, while he pressed a kiss to her cheek and smiled at the camera. She was stunning. Her eyes bright, and cheeks flushed from the sun and the wine, and hopefully from him.
“Looks like you’ve been swiping right. That’s a great picture of us,�
�� he said, something in his voice that he couldn’t name.
“Yes. I look so—so happy,” she dragged out, almost as if in wonder that she’d been that happy.
“And then in less than twelve hours you left me in your room.” He wanted to take back the words instantly as her smile vanished. She looked down at the phone again.
“I’m so sorry about that, Ethan,” she said. He tilted her head up to look at him.
“And I’m sorry I keep bringing it up. I can admit you bruised my pride—maybe my ego, too—but we are getting past it, and it’s unfair for me to dredge it up again,” he said, hoping she believed him, hoping that he’d get the fuck over it because he wanted to see where this was going, and bringing up what happened was not going to help him get what he wanted. And that was Penny back in his life—back in his bed.
“Then stop bringing it up,” she said, a soft smile playing at the corner of her lips.
“I’m working on it,” he said.
“Let me see those pictures, then.”
He swiped the phone back on and handed it to her.
“These pictures are awesome. But so many people, and that is a lot of dust,” she said.
He chuckled. “That’s what you get for a ninety second horse race in the summer with a massive crowd. Jake wanted to be down in the action, so we spent most of the hours leading up to the race packed in like cattle in the square.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Glad I missed that. Way too much chaos.”
“It was a blast. I would’ve sheltered you from the craziness.”
“Not sure that would’ve been possible. So, how did the rest of the trip go?”
“Not the same without you, but we had a lot of fun. Kayaking through Italy was an adventure. We just went wherever the water took us.”
She grinned. “You’re ridiculous. And, no thanks. I need a schedule.”
Breakout (San Francisco Strikers Book 1) Page 8