Fair Play

by Tracy A. Ward

  I huffed. “So maybe speak in plain English.”

  She gave me one of those looks only a friend can give, took a deep breath, then exhaled and spoke slowly. “What I meant is, are you afraid you might fall in love with Noah Blake all over again?”

  Chapter Four

  Noah

  Damn plumbing. No sooner had I fixed one leak than another started—one much more serious than the last. Luckily Babs had been in the cellar, bringing up extra bottles of wine, when the pressure valve burst. She’d interrupted me in the middle of an important business call because no one in the bar knew where the main shut-off to the line was. Guess that’s what I got for not telling Ashlyn that Kyle Pritchard was in town. And that he was a festival judge. Karmic retribution.

  I’d headed over to Ashlyn’s the night before, intent on getting her to agree to Lucas’s plan so I could implement a secret one of my own: protect Ashlyn from dickhead Pritchard. But she’d sulked off to bed before I could even work up to the topic. Since I’d had a video conference with my London expansion team at 4:00 a.m., I’d taken off after she’d stormed into the bathroom, pissed at finding me in her bed. And probably more pissed because she’d liked it.

  But I hadn’t left her unprotected. From both my office and the bar, I had a straight shot at the side door of the theater that led to her apartment. Pritchard hadn’t shown up all day.

  Plumbing issues squared away with the professionals now fixing the problem, I sat back down behind the desk of my upstairs office and picked up the phone. Before I could make a call, Babs came through the door.

  “Plumbers found an old AC unit in the cellar,” she said. “Want me to have them recycle it?”

  “Sure.” I leaned back in my chair, giving her a look. “I got an e-mail from the CEO of Cambridge Hotels.”

  Her brows rose. “Oh?”

  “They got the specs I had forwarded. They’re interested in partnering with the Double Shot, and they think Phair is the perfect location for their new resort. Told you they’d bite.”

  “Cambridge is swanky. A partnership with the Double Shot will generate additional tourists. Will that solve the threat losing the theater has on Phair?” she asked.

  “If the deal goes through, it won’t save the theater, but it will go a long way toward helping the town.”

  Babs pulled her e-cig from the front pocket of her skirt, lit up, then said, “Better watch it, son. If word gets out you had anything to do with this, you might get yourself elected mayor on a write-in ballot.” She took a final drag on her fake cigarette and headed toward the door. “Soon as the plumbers are done, I’ll have ’em haul away that air conditioner.”

  “Wait,” I said. I’d been so wrapped up in my own dealings I’d forgotten something. “Are we talking part of an HVAC system, or the kind that goes in the window?”

  Babs shrugged. “I didn’t see it.”

  I stood. “I’ll go check it out.”

  As it turned out, what sat in the basement was an old window unit air conditioner that worked like a dream. Since Ashlyn refused my offer to stay at my place, I figured she could use it to cool down that furnace she called an apartment. I’d made a plan to stick by her side, making sure she accepted and followed through with Lucas’s scheme, no matter if the plan was outrageous. And I didn’t want to sweat myself to death doing it.

  Even as I strapped the unit to a dolly, I knew my justification was partly a ruse. Remembering the way she’d fit against me in her bed turned me on again. I could still hear the breathiness of her whisper echoing in my ears. I want you.

  Jesus, this line of thinking had to stop. The fastest way to lose a friend was to go after said friend’s baby sister, and I didn’t want to lose Quinn as a friend.

  But even if I went after her, what of substance could I offer her—or any woman, for that matter? There was something toxic in my system. Something given to me by my father. Some inheritances are good—and some are dangerous.

  Ashlyn had gotten a glimpse of that bad side when I’d found her alone in my apartment with Pritchard. It was no wonder she’d held a twelve-year grudge against me. Why she despised me.

  If only I hadn’t left her that day.

  Nothing I could do to rectify the past, though. Shaking myself from my funk, I shoved the AC, strapped to the dolly, through the main area of the bar and called out to Babs, “Heading out for a while.”

  She hollered back, saying, “How did Ashlyn take hearing Kyle Pritchard is in town?”

  It had been out of necessity to keep Ashlyn safe that I’d broken my promise and told Quinn about what had happened between Ashlyn and Pritchard. Babs, on the other hand, had known all along. Babs had been to Ashlyn what she didn’t have—a mother figure to guide her—and what I couldn’t be—a shoulder to lean on.

  “Last night wasn’t a good time,” I said. Just as I was about to shove open the main doors, I caught a glimpse through the front window. Pritchard had rounded the corner, moving in the opposite direction of the theater, thank God. At least I didn’t have to go chase him away from Ashlyn.

  In pressed khakis and a white shirt, he looked like he should’ve been headed for lunch at the yacht club rather than wandering the streets of Phair. From the looks of it though, those pants were about to get dirty. Because of my angle inside the bar, I could see what he couldn’t—the mayor’s youngest kid hauling ass down the sidewalk on his skateboard along the cross street.

  Pritchard noticed the kid and back-stepped, missing the boy by no more than a hairsbreadth, then his arm shot out and he caught the kid by the back of his shirt, wrenching him out of the way a split second before a silver minivan accelerated through a red light. Pritchard catapulted himself to brace the boy’s fall with his body, and the van sped on, crushing the skateboard beneath spinning tires.

  Holy shit.

  Pedestrians and street vendors looked on, mouths open like big-mouthed bass, before rushing to give aid. Another bystander stepped from behind a car, pulled out a cell phone, and snapped photos.

  “Did Pritchard just do what I think he did?” Babs asked, coming up beside me.

  “Yup.”

  “He saved that boy’s life. Huh.” Babs stood silent for a moment, then asked, “Any chance the leopard changed his spots?”

  I shrugged, then stared at the crowd of people making a fuss over Pritchard, fawning all over him like he was some sort of hero. Hero, my ass.

  Leopards don’t change anything. Once a predator, always a predator, in my mind.

  …

  Pulling sixty pounds up three flights of stairs to Ashlyn’s apartment was no easy feat when the path from point A to B was hotter than the Sahara in mid-summer. Thankfully, this time she answered on the first knock.

  Instead of inviting me in, she leaned her hip against the door jamb and crossed her arms. “If it isn’t the Patron Saint of Assholes.”

  Damn she looked good, even with no make-up and her hair pulled up in some kind of funky twist. The light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose added the perfect amount of character. And that smart mouth of hers with those full and red lips—instinct told me if I ever planned to get past its bitterness, it’d be the gateway drug to her essence.

  My glance slid lower. This time she was wearing a bra. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Either way, it was a fight to move my eyes back up on hers.

  “Stop staring at my breasts,” she said.

  As if it were that simple. “Put the claws away. I came with a peace offering.”

  “You think that’s going to make up for dry humping me in my sleep?”

  She was being dramatic. There’d been no humping. “What? A free AC isn’t good enough? You holding out for five carats from DeBeers and a marriage proposal to restore your good name?”

  “Wonder what Quinn would say if I called him up and told him how you attempted to steal my virtue?”

  Now that got to me. I hadn’t been the only one last night feeling a certain somet
hing. “The way you wrapped yourself around me, Wheels, and how I distinctly remember you carrying on and on about how much you wanted me, makes me think your perception of my actions is a bit off.”

  Her nostrils flared. She knew I had her. “You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood today, Noah. At the moment, I’d take cold air over anything…except maybe an emerald cut, six-carat canary. I have higher standards than five.” Laughter lit her baby-blues.

  Should’ve known she was trying to goad me. “Look, I didn’t come here to word-spar. Do you want the AC or not?”

  “Depends. What’s it going to cost me?”

  That was a loaded question. “Have you considered Lucas’s deal?”

  “What if I say I’m weighing my options? Will you let me have the AC anyway?”

  “Are you at least weighing them with an open mind?”

  A slight smile turned up her lips and she stepped out of the way. Something I took to be a good sign.

  After pulling the dolly through the door, I raised the bottom of my shirt and wiped sweat from my upper lip. When I looked back at Ashlyn, her gaze had dropped to my bare stomach, the shade of her eyes teetering on midnight. “Now who’s staring, Wheels?”

  For a split second I would’ve swore her cheeks flushed.

  “What?” she asked, her face returning to the picture of innocence. “You have a sexy stomach. I mean, it’s not all ripped like a Men’s Health model, but it’s not bad, either.”

  Knocked off-balance by the compliment, albeit a back-handed one, I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to collect myself and calm the growing situation in my pants.

  “What’s the matter, Noah? Can’t handle it when the shoe’s on the other foot?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can stare at my breasts, but I can’t return the favor?”

  “My breasts aren’t nearly as attractive as yours.”

  “Which is why I was forced to look lower.” She flashed that big-toothed grin that made a man want to bend to her will. Or just bend her over.

  Jesus, she was killing me.

  I cleared my throat. “You know, a gracious hostess would offer her guest something to drink.”

  “You’re right,” she said, still smiling. “Forgive me.”

  I wanted to wipe that smirk off her lips. Or kiss it off. Instead, after following her into her apartment, I quietly waited for her to get a water bottle out of the fridge. I took the cold drink she offered and ignored the extra charge I got at the center of my gut when our fingers brushed in the exchange. I drained the water in three gulps, then nodded to the AC unit. “Want me to hook this thing up or not?”

  She replaced the lid and set the empty bottle aside. Then she licked her lips. “How about we try the bedroom?”

  Shock sparred with confusion. “Excuse me?”

  “The windows in here are too wide and they face the street. There’s a window in the bedroom that’s smaller and faces the alley. Structurally, the casement there would be a better fit.”

  I cocked my head and almost grinned. “You seem sure of yourself.”

  “Irrespective of popular belief, not all women have poor spatial perception. I’m a great judge at seeing how seemingly large objects can fit into tight spaces.”

  Intentional or not, her sexual innuendo hit its mark right below my belt. After a couple of deep breaths and a quick visualization of New York City streets on trash day, I somehow managed to get the situation back under control.

  I followed Ashlyn into her bedroom, which in daylight appeared more spacious than the living room-kitchen combo, only not by much. Maybe that was because the living room was as neat as my old man’s tumbler of whiskey. The bedroom, however, looked more like what’d happened after one of his benders—something I hadn’t noticed in last night’s dark.

  What I guessed to be dirty clothes were strewn about the floor and on top of an army-style trunk. Laundry day had come and gone over the last few weeks, it seemed. Books and magazines made mounds like gopher holes. A nightstand, littered with water bottles and a lone lamp, stood to the side.

  Good God, Ashlyn was a slob.

  My gaze went to the bed, topped by a tangled mess of sheets. My mind instantly returned to last night. So did the rest of my body.

  Using the AC to block what was certain to become visible discomfort, I unstrapped the unit and carried it the short distance to the window. Ashlyn followed me, but I kept my back to her until things settled down, giving my body a silent lecture on how its reaction to her was becoming an irritating habit.

  With Ashlyn’s help, installing the AC unit took no time. Within minutes, cold air flowed from the vents. Ashlyn stood in front of the window, eyes closed, arms and legs spread. On her face she wore an expression of ecstasy. When she turned and raised the tail of her shirt to let the air play over her back, I caught enough of a glimpse of her midriff to make me wish it was my hands on her skin.

  Seconds later her gaze locked with mine. In a move I didn’t see coming, she stepped forward, and suddenly her arms were looped around my neck. What the hell?

  Chapter Five

  Ashlyn

  “Thank you, Noah,” I said, instinctively pulling him to me in a hug. Installing the AC had been a sweet gesture, reminding me that occasionally Noah’s massive savior complex paid dividends. The heat had sweltered my resistance to his control, and I couldn’t summon up enough bitch to be anything except grateful.

  At first his body stiffened, but then his arms circled my waist, pulling me so close I could feel the uneven beat of his heart pounding as we met, chest to chest. Damn he felt good, all hard muscles and the heady scent of man.

  Slowly, I pulled back but not away, looked into his dark-chocolate eyes, fighting against a force inside myself that was as natural as it was unwelcoming. Noah and I had been here before. He’d walked away and I’d faced a devastation so great it caused me to make stupid choices—ones that left me weak and distrusting of men. Ones that left me feeling no better than my character, Caroline.

  The past was done and I couldn’t change it. But what if Caroline’s story could be different? What would happen if Caroline decided to make new choices? To go for what she wanted rather than running from what she feared?

  My gaze traveled to his lips, full and determined. His face, however, wore an expression of puzzlement. Like he couldn’t figure out why I’d hugged him. And why I wasn’t stepping back.

  I couldn’t figure it out, either.

  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized Lucas was right. Well, kind-of right. Noah wasn’t Andy Rich, but that single hug had me rethinking Caroline.

  The night Caroline and Andy met, they’d kissed. One fateful meeting had changed their lives forever. One kiss had bonded them for good.

  Or bad.

  Depending on how you looked at it.

  So what would it feel like for Caroline to kiss Andy Rich? I know how much I’d wanted to kiss Noah all those years ago. And now, with him so close, smelling like hot, sweaty male, having done something just like what Andy would have done for Caroline, I felt those long-suppressed stirrings.

  What would kissing Andy Rich for the first time be like for Caroline?

  One of Noah’s hands roamed, reeling me in as his palm held the small of my back firm, tightening his hold on me and bringing our hips into contact. The world swirled around me and I leaned into him. Slid my hand up to fit around the back of his neck.

  My fingers entwined in his hair and I raised my mouth to meet his.

  The kiss that followed was slow and soft, not at all what I expected from someone usually wound so tight. He filled my senses, just the same. Noah’s lips were firm, yet giving. His mouth hot, but it didn’t burn. Ripples of pleasure rolled through me as our lips melded. Tongues played an unhurried game of seek and find.

  He deepened the kiss and I got swept away. Only it was more than his mastery over the physical act that drew me in and held me under. It was riding the wave of rightnes
s. Feeling like I’d found a place I belonged.

  And my God, did I want him, with every pulse of my quickened heart.

  His hand found its way under my shirt. Fingers drifted over bare skin, leaving nothing but an intense need for Noah in its wake.

  Wait.

  No.

  Not Noah…Andy. This was about Caroline and Andy.

  Oh, hell.

  I wrenched my lips away from his. Noah dropped his arms from around me and stepped back. My eyes opened wide just as his were beginning to clear.

  For a minute there, my signals had gotten crossed. It was a mistake I wouldn’t make in the future.

  The future…

  Surprised at my own revelation, I allowed the weight of acceptance to sink in. I would jump in with both feet and follow Lucas’s hare-brained idea, but only because I’d tried everything else to finish this play, to no avail. And for me, it wasn’t just a theater or a bar or money at stake. It was Broadway. And what did Broadway represent? The ability to make it in this world on my terms. I’d prove to my father I could be successful my way.

  God, now I was being overdramatic. Even so, I was ready to cue Sinatra and get on with the show.

  I could only imagine Jessica’s smug look of satisfaction when I admitted to her she’d been right. I had been afraid of falling for Noah again. But as long as I kept my heart guarded and my back up, there wasn’t a chance of that. I would play the part of Caroline in the hope of understanding her better, and to crawl inside the mind of Andy Rich.

  Finally, looking into Noah’s eyes and for the first time really seeing, I grinned. “So this is it. This is what it feels like to kiss Andy Rich.”

  His eyes darkened and his body went stiff. “Does this mean you’re on board with Lucas’s plan?”

  “Yeah.” The tips of my fingers played over my lower lip, still warm from the heat of his kiss. “I think it does. Isn’t that the reason you came?”

  Something in the flash of his eyes and tenseness of his jaw revealed the fact that his smile seemed forced rather than genuine. “I have work that needs my attention. We’ll finish this conversation later.”