One-Timer (The Baltimore Banners Book 9)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Maggie ignored her friend’s comments—and the heat filling her face—and leaned closer to Slinky’s cage. Her beloved pet was deftly holding the treat between her front paws, nibbling at it as her whiskers vibrated with excitement.

  Okay, so maybe she was overreacting and getting excited about nothing. It was just a treat. Not a big deal.

  Except Dillon had actually taken the time to think about Slinky, when even Maggie had been in too much of a daze to worry about her. And now she felt guilty. How was it that Dillon could remember her pet and she couldn’t?

  She unlatched the cage and stuck her hand inside, wiggling her fingers to get Slinky’s attention. The ferret finished the treat then scrambled up the walkway and onto Maggie’s hands. She sniffed her palm, made a little squeaking noise, then scurried up Maggie’s arm and settled on her shoulder.

  Maggie snagged another treat from the bowl and held it up to her, then stroked the ferret’s smooth fur as she nibbled on it.

  “Okay, details. I want details.”

  Maggie turned back to Cindy, hoping for a nonchalant expression. “Details about what?”

  “Oh no you don’t. You don’t get to do that. I’m playing the bestie card.” Cindy curled her legs under her and leaned forward. “So how was it? Is he hung? Does he have stamina?”

  “Cindy!”

  “What? You know I’m dying here, right? He’s so hot. And he looks like he’d be built right—everywhere. But you can never tell. Sometimes bigger guys aren’t, you know?”

  Maggie rolled her eyes and looked away. Heat seared her face but she was helpless to stop her grin. “You, uh, don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Oooooo. Okay, details. Don’t leave anything out.”

  “I am not giving you details.”

  “But you have to! This is the first time you’ve had any action in…in…too long. Entirely too long. So fess up. How was it?”

  How was it? Maggie leaned back in the chair and sighed, the sound entirely too dreamy—especially for her. She didn’t sigh dreamy sighs over guys. Never. Only she was sighing now.

  She had been sighing ever since last night.

  Cindy made an impatient sound, making a ‘hurry up’ motion with her hands. “Well?”

  “It, uh, it was fun.”

  Cindy’s brows shot up in disbelief. Or maybe it was disappointment. “Fun? That’s it? Fun? No no no. George is fun. I need to hear that the real thing is better than George. Please tell me the he was better than George.”

  “Okay, yes. Better. Definitely better.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Ohmygod, you’re really not going to share, are you? That is so wrong!”

  No, she wasn’t going to share, no matter how much Cindy begged. At least, not the details she wanted to hear. Those were for Maggie, nobody else. And not just because she felt funny and awkward sharing such intimate details. No, it was more than that. Almost like she’d be jinxing things if she shared too much. She didn’t want to jinx anything; she wanted to enjoy whatever they were doing for however long they were going to do it.

  And then, when it was over, she’d treasure the memories for however long she needed. After that, then she might share. But not until then. And hopefully not for a while.

  She hoped.

  Why did that idea suddenly depress her?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dillon snagged Maggie’s hand and held it between his, threading his fingers through hers. It was cold out, cold enough they were both wearing gloves, so it wasn’t like they were really touching. Not flesh-to-flesh. But he still liked the idea of holding her hand.

  “How’s your wrist?”

  Maggie glanced down at her other arm, held gingerly against her chest. She had refused to wear the sling he got for her, telling him it was overkill. And okay, maybe she was right. But he still felt a little guilty about it—she wouldn’t have gotten hurt if it hadn’t been for him. And he didn’t want her to overdo it and hurt it again just because she thought it was better.

  “It’s better. Hardly hurts at all.”

  “You still need to be careful. Not use it or anything.”

  A small smile spread across her face to accompany the slight flush on her cheeks. Or maybe that was just the cold night air. “I know. It’s fine.”

  He didn’t say anything, just grunted as they walked along the sidewalk outside the theater. The movie had just let out, a wildly popular sci-fi thriller that everyone had been talking about. He hadn’t been to a movie in forever and jumped at the chance to take Maggie when the subject of the movie had come up.

  Why wasn’t he surprised that she enjoyed science fiction almost as much as he did?

  The crowd around them was light, probably because it was a week night and they had gone to the early movie. But enough people moved past him that he pulled Maggie in closer, dropping her hand and draping his arm around her shoulder.

  “Are you still up for getting a bite to eat?”

  “I shouldn’t, not after all that popcorn we ate, but—” She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip as if she was truly thinking about saying no. Dillon held his breath, waiting. “Okay, twist my arm.”

  The breath left him in a rush and he hoped she hadn’t noticed. Probably not, because she was looking ahead as they moved through the light crowd. “Did you want to go to that sports bar over there? Or something closer to your place?”

  “No, this is good. It’s not like we’re that far from home.”

  They weren’t. Not from her place, anyway. He had decided on the movie theater in Hunt Valley, a large cinema with twelve screens and easy access in the northern part of Baltimore County. It was attached to an updated town center with upscale strip shops, a gourmet grocery store, and several restaurants, which made it convenient. And it was only fifteen or twenty minutes from her apartment in Towson.

  They made their way along the sidewalk, passing a crowded bar and a Japanese hibachi steak house. He committed the name of the hibachi place to memory, thinking that would be a nice place to take her when they got back from their upcoming road trip. Maybe even for Valentine’s Day, which wasn’t too far off. Depending on his schedule, that was.

  Funny. He’d never worried about making plans for Valentine’s Day before. He’d never had to. But now he was actually looking forward to it. Did Maggie like roses? Didn’t all women like roses? No, not if what his mom and sister said was true. He’d ask Cindy, she would know.

  They finally reached the well-known local sports bar, one of a chain that had started in Ocean City. He pulled the door open and held it, motioning for Maggie to move ahead of him. Noise wrapped over them as soon as they entered, a loud combination of music and conversation. Dillon hesitated, surprised at the Monday night crowd.

  Not exactly what he had been planning for their last night together before he left tomorrow.

  He leaned closer, his mouth near her ear. “Did you want to go somewhere else?”

  She glanced up at him, her brows pulled low over her eyes. “No, this is fine.”

  He bit back his disappointment and grabbed her hand again, leading her toward the podium. The hostess seated them right away, at a booth toward the back, away from the main part of the crowd—and the noise. That was a bonus, at least. Now they wouldn’t have to scream to be heard.

  Maggie picked up the menu, moving the glasses down her nose and peering over the lenses to read it. He chuckled at the cute picture she made, then tried to hide it with a discreet cough. He wasn’t very successful, not judging by the look she gave him.

  “Don’t laugh. It’s always a pain to see when my glasses fog up.”

  “Sorry.” He mumbled the apology, a grin still on his face. And she was smiling, which meant she was only teasing him back. He settled into the seat and grabbed the menu, studying it, trying to decide what to order. Nothing too heavy, not this late. But he was still hungry, so something more substantial than a freaking salad.

  A waiter
finally came by, barely looking at them as he took their drink order: two beers, and two glasses of water. He disappeared with a nod, leaving them both to study the menu again.

  “Did you want to get an appetizer to share?”

  “I could do that. How about a crab dip?”

  “Crab dip it is. What else?”

  Maggie raised her brows. “What else? Isn’t that enough?”

  “You’re kidding, right? Do you want me to starve?”

  The tip of her boot nudged him under the table, the motion playful and maybe even a little flirty. She grinned and rolled her eyes, then propped her chin in her hand. “No, I don’t want you to starve. I couldn’t bear it.”

  Dillon laughed at the sarcasm lacing her voice. “You’re such a bleeding heart. So sympathetic and caring.”

  “Yup, that’s me.”

  “Okay. But seriously, don’t you want anything else? How about wings? Would you eat some of those if I ordered any?”

  “Maybe—if they’re boneless.”

  “You’re killing me. They’re not wings if they’re boneless. Those are nuggets.”

  “So sue me. I like them boneless.”

  He gave a long-suffering sigh, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him again. It was so refreshing having someone around who didn’t automatically agree to everything he said, just because of who he was. That was just one of the many things he liked about Maggie.

  “What kind of sauce? And please don’t say wimpy mild. My heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

  “Mild? The horror. No, I like them hot. With ranch, not blue cheese.”

  “A woman after my own heart. Okay, now we’re talking.”

  The waiter reappeared with their drinks, then grabbed a pad from the pocket of his apron. Dillon gave him their order, stopping to debate on how many boneless wings to get. Maggie said a dozen would be enough, which made Dillon laugh.

  “Make it three dozen.”

  The waiter finally looked up at them. He hesitated, eyes going wide as he stared at Dillon. “Hey. I know who you are. This is even better than that other crowd. I love watching you play, man. So freaking intense.”

  Dillon squirmed in the seat, suddenly uncomfortable. The muffled laughter he heard coming from across the table didn’t help. Neither did the playful foot nudge Maggie gave him under the table.

  Heat filled his face and he muttered something to the waiter, not bothering to look back up until he walked away. Then he narrowed his eyes at Maggie and reached for the frosty mug of beer.

  “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “I am.” She wiped a strand of hair from her forehead and reached for her own beer, then started laughing again. “‘So freaking intense, man’. That was funny. I was waiting for him to say ‘dude’ and ‘totally’.”

  “Haha. And please, not ‘dude’. Mat says that all the time and it drives me insane.”

  “Who’s Mat?”

  “One of the guys on the team. I’ll introduce you the next time you come to a game. Or maybe when the team has a big family get-together.”

  “That—” Maggie cleared her throat, her gaze dropping to the table. “That would be fun.”

  It was his turn to nudge her foot under the table. She finally looked up, but her gaze wouldn’t quite meet his. He nudged her again until she actually looked at him. Then he leaned forward, his hand wrapping around hers. “It would be fun.”

  Which was such a fucking lame thing to say. Fun? Great, now he sounded like he wanted her to be his buddy. But maybe she understood his botched attempt at…well, at whatever he was trying to say. Her fingers tightened around his as her smile grew a little wider.

  “Well no shit. It really is you. I thought he was lying.”

  Dillon jumped at the voice, then let out a groan when he turned and saw Harland standing next to the table. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was hanging out with some of the guys from the Bombers. They drove down for dinner.”

  “Really? From York? Isn’t that like over an hour away?” Why would any of the guys from the Banners’ minor team be driving all the way down here? And why would Harland be hanging with them? Yeah, he used to play with them before being called up, but that had been at least two years ago. He was going to ask Harland then decided against it. It wasn’t like Harland was even paying him any attention.

  No, of course he wasn’t. He was watching Maggie, his eyes studying her a little too closely. He slid into the booth next to Dillon, pushing him closer to the wall. Dillon gave him a dirty look but it didn’t matter: Harland’s gaze was still focused on Maggie.

  “So. You guys on a date or something?”

  “Yeah. Not that it’s your business.”

  Harland swung his head around, a lopsided grin on his face. “And you bring her here? Nice. Real romantic, Frayser. Shit.”

  “It was my idea to come here. We just left the movies.”

  “Yeah?” Harland’s grin grew wider and he leaned across the table, his outstretched arms resting on the surface. One of his hands knocked against Dillon’s mug and it would have spilled if he hadn’t been watching. Harland frowned at him then turned his attention back to Maggie. “So what’d you see?”

  “Harland, leave it alone—”

  But Maggie interrupted him, her voice a little clipped and impatient when she told him.

  “Really? That’s what he took you to see? Honey, leave with me. I’ll show you how to have a good time.”

  “Alright, enough.” Dillon shoved but Harland didn’t budge. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and shook his head. “What are you even doing here? Leave us alone, will you?”

  “What? Trying to get rid of me already?” Harland laughed and dropped his arm around Dillon’s shoulders. That was when he got a whiff of his teammate’s breath and realized he must have been her for a while. Drinking. A lot, from the smell of it.

  He brushed Harland’s arm away and frowned. “How much have you had to drink? You know we leave tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow, not tonight. And I’m fine. Lighten up, will you?”

  “I will—as soon as you leave.”

  “Christ, you’re fucking cranky. What? Isn’t your girlfriend giving you any?” He laughed, the sound harsh and brittle. Dillon clenched his jaw and shoved against him again, trying to get him to move. He couldn’t look at Maggie, afraid of what he might see on her face if he did.

  “Harland, you’re making an ass of yourself. Now leave.”

  “Yeah, okay. In a minute.” He stretched across the table again, his smile even wider. “So. Mags. That’s your name, right?”

  “It’s Maggie, not Mags.”

  Harland waved his hand in careless dismissal. “Sure. Whatever. So, Maggie—what is it you do?”

  Dillon clenched his jaw and looked over at Maggie. Her gaze met his, cautious and questioning—and maybe even a little stubborn. She took a deep breath and turned back to Harland. “I’m going for my Master of Science. In chemistry.”

  Dillon nearly choked. Her Masters? She was getting her fucking Masters? But she was younger than he was! How old had she been when she started?

  “So you’re in school? You don’t work?”

  “No, I work, too.”

  “Whoa. Overachiever, aren’t you?” Harland turned toward Dillon and nudged him in the side. “She’s too smart for you, Frayser. What are you doing hooking up with a geek?”

  “Maggie isn’t a geek.”

  “Yeah, sure she isn’t. Fuck. No wonder she let you drag her to a stupid sci-fi movie.” Harland laughed like he had just told the world’s biggest joke. The sound grated along Dillon’s spine, deeper still until he felt it shatter his nerves. He muttered under his breath and pushed at Harland again, not stopping until the other man nearly fell off the bench.

  Harland caught himself at the last minute and staggered to his feet, holding onto the table for balance. Something flashed in his eyes, hard and biting and full of regret. Then he blin
ked and the look was gone, replaced by phony amusement.

  “Why are you so fucking testy? Christ, I was just teasing.”

  “Well stop. Just get the hell out of here. Even better, go home. Coach catches you reeking of alcohol tomorrow and there’s going to be hell to pay.”

  Harland waved his hand in dismissal. “No worries. I’ll be fine.”

  Another thought raced through Dillon’s mind and he swallowed a groan. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to get in the middle, but he had to. “You’re not driving, are you?”

  “Nah. We’re all being responsible.” He drew the word, carefully pronouncing it to the point of exaggeration. “One of the guys is acting as our designated driver.”

  “For all of you?”

  “Yup. We’re adults, man. Seriously.” Harland laughed and rolled his eyes then turned toward Maggie. “So, Mags. See you around I guess, huh?”

  Her gaze darted to Dillon then back to Harland. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

  “Perfect. Excellent. Okay kiddos, you all have fun doing your geeky kid things. I’m going back to hang with the adults.” Harland gave them an exaggerated salute then spun on his heel, staggered with a chuckle, and finally headed off in the opposite direction. Dillon watched him for several minutes, frowning in thought.

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  Maggie must have been reading his mind. He turned to her and shrugged, trying to downplay the interruption. “Yeah. He’ll be fine.”

  “Is he always like that?”

  “You mean obnoxious and annoying? He never used to be, not until the last few months. I have no idea what’s going on with him.”

  “Have you asked?”

  “Asked Harland? Seriously?” Dillon laughed, the sound sharp and short. “Yeah. It’s like pulling teeth. Everything’s fine according to him.”

  He shifted on the bench then reached for the beer, taking a long swallow. “I’m, uh, sorry about that. I don’t know what got into him.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “I know but still. He’s, uh, not usually so rude.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not, but I don’t know what to do about it to make it up to you. I mean, I guess I could go knock some sense into him or something. Get all macho and beat him up. Or—”