Playing For Love (The York Bombers, #6)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Cara had smiled and thanked them, giving them nothing more than a vague answer in return. How could she accept the invitation in good conscience, when she knew she wouldn't be around? When she knew she would never be part of the close-knit group of friends?

  At least, that was what she thought—until Travis had invited her to go to Mystic's with his teammates after the game. She hadn't been expecting that, either, yet here she was, sitting with Travis and his teammates as they celebrated tonight's win.

  For the most part, everyone was genuinely nice and made her feel...well, maybe not exactly part of the group, but definitely welcome. There was only one guy who seemed distant, maybe a little stand-offish. He sat at the opposite end of the table. Ben, she thought his name was. Cara had caught him watching her a few times, his dark brows pulled low in a frown, his gaze unreadable. Not enough to make her feel uncomfortable, but enough to make her wonder why he was watching her. To make her wonder what he was thinking.

  "Hey, Banky, you going to get up and sing tonight?" The question came from the guy sitting next to Tyler and drew laughter from everyone else. Cara frowned then turned to Travis, surprised to see the blush staining his face. He darted a glance in her direction then quickly looked away, the blush deepening as he shook his head.

  "No, not tonight."

  Teasing groans of disappointment echoed around them, interrupted when Ben—Cara was almost positive that was his name—leaned forward and spoke over them.

  "Come on, Banky. Treat us to a love song. Seems kind of appropriate for the occasion, don't you think?"

  The laughter and teasing groans faded away, replaced by a low murmur of surprise. Several of Travis's teammates shifted in their chairs. A few stared into their mugs of beer. Others turned toward Ben with expressions of surprise and even warning on their faces.

  "Knock it off, Ben." The low command came from Zach, the words filled with a subtle threat Cara didn't understand. She glanced around the table, wondering what she had missed.

  Wondering if she wanted to know.

  She turned to Travis and offered him a smile, hoping to cut through the sudden tension. "Do you sing?"

  Travis started to shake his head but one of his teammates spoke up before he could say anything.

  "Does he sing? Hell yeah, he sings. Surprised the hell out of all of us. He's got an amazing voice."

  Cara turned back to Travis, a question on the tip of her tongue—nothing earth-shattering or even important, just a question about what kind of music he liked, what kind of songs he sang. But he looked so uncomfortable and so...so embarrassed...that the question died on her lips. Had she missed something? Some kind of inside joke, maybe? Or maybe this was more than that. Maybe Travis had sung a song to another woman and that's what everyone was laughing about. Maybe that's what Ben's bitterly-laced comment had been about.

  Was Travis seeing someone else? Or maybe he had been seeing someone and it had come to a bad end—because of her.

  Cara swallowed back a groan of dismay. Had she been responsible for ending a relationship? No, that couldn't be it. Travis had told her that he wasn't seeing anyone. That night, right here at Mystic's. She had asked—had made it a point to ask. It was one thing to playfully flirt with a stranger, and something completely different to hit on someone already in a relationship.

  So she had asked, right before they had left that night to go back to his place. And he'd told her no. Had assured her he wasn't seeing anyone.

  Had that been a lie? Or had something changed since then? That had been more than a month ago; it was possible he was seeing someone now. But if that was the case, why hadn't he told her? Why was he here with her, instead of with his girlfriend?

  Cara grabbed her purse from the back of the chair then slid away from the table. "I—I should probably leave now. It's late and—"

  Travis reached out, dropped his hand on her arm and leaned in. "Do you have to leave?"

  She hesitated, felt herself being drawn in by those smoky gray eyes. His gaze threatened to drown her, to swallow her, to make her lose herself in their warm depths before she realized what was happening.

  She forced her gaze from his and nodded. "I do. I have to work in the morning."

  Was it her imagination, or had that been a flash of disappointment in his eyes? Probably just her imagination because Travis simply nodded then stood, waiting for her to do the same. "I'll walk you to your car."

  "You don't have to—"

  "I said I'll walk you to your car."

  Cara thought about telling him again that he didn't need to, then decided to drop it. What did it matter if he walked her outside?

  She said her goodbyes, waving as she moved away from the table. Her steps quickened, shortening the distance to the door. A warm hand closed around her arm, slowing her escape when all she wanted to do was run. Could Travis tell? Is that why he was holding her arm?

  He pushed the door open, held it for her as she walked through. Cold air, heavy with the damp promise of snow, washed over her and stole her breath away. She tugged against Travis's hand, freeing her arm under the pretense of zippering her jacket. Then she turned toward him, her shoulders rigid, her chin lifting a notch.

  "Are you seeing someone?"

  His eyes widened and he actually took a surprised step back. "What? No, I'm not. Why would you—"

  "It's okay if you are."

  "I'm not—"

  "You don't owe me anything, Travis. And I don't want to come between you and anyone else. I just want you to be honest with me, that's all."

  He stepped closer, his full mouth curling in a brief grin despite the fresh cut at the edge of his lower lip. One hand reached up and for a brief second, she thought he was going to touch her. To brush the hair away from her face or stroke her cheek. He dropped his hand at the last minute and shook his head. "Cara, I'm not seeing anyone. Honest."

  "You aren't lying? Just telling me that to make me feel better?"

  He smiled again and drew an X across his heart. "Honest."

  There was something so endearing, so sweet, about the gesture that Cara had to bite back a small sigh. "Oh. Okay. Good. I didn't want—"

  "Are you?"

  "Am I what?"

  "Are you seeing anyone?"

  "Me?" Cara almost laughed, swallowed it back when she realized Travis was serious. "No. Not even close."

  "You aren't lying? Just telling me that to make me feel better?" He tossed her own words back at her, a playful smile teasing his mouth. Cara watched him for the space of a few heartbeats. That smile tugged at something inside her and she briefly considered opening up to him, telling him how little she had previously dated.

  Admitting that their one-night stand had been a one-time thing for her.

  But how could she do that? What would he think of her if she admitted that? She kept the admission to herself and offered him a smile of her own as she reached up and crossed an X over her own heart.

  "Honest."

  Travis chuckled, the sound dangerously warm, then reached out and took her elbow in his. "Come on. I'll walk you to your car."

  She stepped off the curb and led the way across the parking lot, Travis beside her every step. He took the keys from her hand and unlocked the door, then handed them back to her. If she was smart, she'd say goodnight and climb inside. Start the engine and drive away. But she wasn't smart—wasn't her current predicament proof of that?—so she just stood there. Waiting.

  For what, she didn't know.

  Travis shifted his weight from one foot to the other then jammed his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. Belatedly, Cara realized he was wearing nothing more than his suit, the tie long since gone, the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

  She yanked her gaze from the sight of his bare throat. "You should probably get back inside. You don't have a jacket on and it's freezing—"

  "I'm fine." He stepped a little closer, the heat from his body washing over her like a furnace. She tried to take a s
tep back, collided with the side of the car and almost stumbled. Heat filled her face and he wondered if he noticed. He must have because his hand wrapped around her arm, steadying her.

  "I'm glad you came tonight."

  "Hm?" She pulled her attention from the feel of his hand around her arm, tried to concentrate on his words instead. "Oh. Me, too."

  "Did you have fun?"

  "Yeah. It, uh—it was interesting." Cara cleared her throat and tried not to smile. The game had been interesting. Fast and intense. Physical. Maybe a little too physical, judging from the fresh cut at the corner of Travis's mouth. "I didn't really understand it, though. Even with Jenny giving me pointers."

  Travis chuckled again, the sound low and deep. Was it her imagination, or had he moved even closer? "Don't worry, you'll understand a little more each game you come to."

  Hope soared in her chest and she quickly—ruthlessly—tamped it down. It only sounded like he was inviting her to more games and she couldn't read into it. She'd be a fool if she did.

  Travis nodded to the open door of her car. "You should probably go before you get too cold."

  "Oh. Um, yeah." She turned to the side, ready to lower herself into the car, stopped to throw one last glance at Travis. She opened her mouth, ready to thank him again for tonight's invitation, but the words stuck in her throat, disappearing at the look in Travis's eyes as he watched her.

  And then he leaned forward, his mouth closing over hers in a gentle kiss. Soft. Warm.

  Intoxicating.

  Cara sighed, her hand reaching up and curling around the lapel of his suit jacket. She leaned into him, a soft moan of need escaping her when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.

  His mouth opened over hers, his tongue gently probing the seam of her lips. Seeking. Searching. Cara opened her mouth, sighed when his tongue swept against hers. Slow. Sweet. As if he had all the time in the world to do nothing more than thoroughly seduce her mouth.

  Travis finally pulled away, his breath hitching in his chest as he took a step back. The corner of his mouth curled in a sexy smile that made her heart trip in her chest. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then let his hand fall to the side.

  "For what it's worth, I'm glad."

  Cara blinked, trying to get her mind to work, trying to figure out what he was talking about. It was easier said than done, when all she could think of was that kiss, when it took all her willpower not to step forward and beg him for more.

  He must have seen the confusion on her face because his smile grew a little wider as he answered her unspoken question.

  "That you're not seeing anyone. I'm glad." He dropped a quick kiss against her cheek then turned around and walked away, heading back to the bar.

  Leaving her standing there, staring after him with her mouth ajar as her heart beat even faster in her chest.

  As her mind issued a warning to be careful—

  Even though it was already too late.

  Chapter Eleven

  The apartment wasn't what he expected. There was nothing wrong with the standard two bedroom: the small living room opened onto a smaller dining room, which sat across from a functional kitchen. A short hallway led back to three closed doors. Travis assumed bedrooms were behind two of those closed doors, with a bathroom behind the third.

  Just a typical apartment, not much different from the one he'd first rented and shared with John Archer when he'd moved here after being drafted. John had been traded away a year later and Travis had finally purchased the three-bedroom townhouse where he lived now a year after that.

  But it still wasn't what he'd been expecting, not for Cara. The apartment was too busy, too cluttered with a mix of decorations that didn't fit his image of Cara. Brightly-colored movie posters framed in garish plastic frames covered the walls. Knick-knacks filled almost every available surface on the coffee table and end tables: small figurines; bowls filled with potpourri emitting a strong perfume scent he couldn't identify; candles of all shapes and sizes. An entertainment center pushed against the far wall held an expensive flat screen television. DVDs were scattered across the glass top of the center. A quick glance told him most of the DVDs were exercise programs—an observation reinforced by the presence of light hand-held weights and resistance bands piled next to the entertainment center.

  What he didn't see were books—of any kind. No bookshelf shoved against a wall, no individual books tossed on an end table or the coffee table. There were plenty of fashion and glamor magazines cluttering the surface of the glass coffee table but no books. Not even an e-reader of any kind.

  Definitely not what he'd been expecting. Hadn't Cara mentioned how much she enjoyed reading? Yes, she had. They'd even discussed some of their favorite books—for maybe five minutes when they had first walked through the door of his house that one night. Maybe he had misunderstood. Maybe she really was more into the glossy fashion magazines.

  Or maybe everything he saw around him was her roommate's. Maybe nothing of Cara existed in the garish clutter surrounding him.

  He shifted on the sofa, his gaze darting to the blonde-haired woman sitting in the loveseat perpendicular to him. She had opened the door and greeted him with a warm smile—maybe a little too warm. She had closed her hand around his arm and tugged him inside, her touch lingering even when he tried to pull away. She sat on the edge of the cushion, leaning so close to him that the deep V of her sweater dropped open, giving him an eyeful of ample cleavage barely covered by a scrap of sheer lace. It was obvious she was flirting with him, and just as obvious that the way she was sitting was deliberate, a calculated move designed to offer him the view.

  Travis kept his gaze averted and forced his jaw to relax. This woman was Cara's roommate. Her friend. He should ignore his instant dislike of her but he couldn't. There was just something about her that put him on edge, that made him uncomfortable. Something about her that reminded him of all those women who hung around the rink, hoping to get noticed. The same women who had flocked to his first attempts at social media the end of last season.

  Was that why he instantly disliked her? Or was there more to it?

  He glanced over and tightened his jaw. No, there was definitely more to it. What kind of woman flirted with the man who was here to take her friend out on a date? Because that's exactly what she was doing: flirting with him.

  She leaned forward, offering him another view of her cleavage, and rested her hand against his knee. Travis stiffened and shifted away, trying not to be obvious about it. He couldn't tell if she noticed or not, or if she even cared, because her hand stayed there as she spoke.

  "I hope you're not in a hurry. Cara isn't really the most reliable person around. Never on time." The woman laughed, the sound fake. "She's probably struggling to figure out what to wear. She doesn't have much fashion sense."

  Travis slid away, breathing a sigh of relief when she moved her hand. "I like the way she looks."

  The woman raised a perfectly sculpted brow, a hint of a smile hovering around her lips. "I think that might be the kindest thing anyone has ever said about Cara."

  Including you?

  Travis wanted to ask the question but bit it back at the last second. It would have come out too sharp, too angry, too judgmental. It was better not to say anything at all. Wasn't that what his parents were always telling him? Yes, it was. But for once, he wished he had Zach's quick wit and blatant way of speaking because he'd like nothing more than to put this woman in her place.

  He shouldn't be judging her. He knew that. She was Cara's friend, which meant they would probably be seeing a lot of each other. Cara didn't strike him as a fool, so there must be some reason the two women were friends. He'd just have to ignore his initial dislike and learn to live with it.

  A door opened at the end of the hallway and Travis turned. His stomach knotted with excitement when he saw Cara moving toward him. The sensation—that sudden excitement—surprised him. Just like the sudden nervousness fi
lling him surprised him. Why was he nervous? This wasn't like a first date.

  Except it was. Maybe that was why he was nervous. He wanted to do everything right. He wanted to impress Cara, reassure her that she could rely on him and that he wasn't going anywhere.

  He wanted her to like him.

  That last thought slammed into him just as he was standing and made him stagger, just for a brief second. He wanted her to like him? What kind of thought was that to even have? He wasn't fourteen-years old, trying to impress his first real crush. He was a grown man, one who was about to become a father. Yet here he was, wanting nothing more than for the woman walking toward him to like him.

  Maybe that made sense, considering she was the mother of his unborn child.

  Travis swallowed against the lump of nerves in his gut then ran his hands along his thighs. Cara came to a hesitant stop a few feet away, her eyes briefly meeting his then darting away.

  They were both nervous. Wonderful. Was that a good thing—or a bad thing? Maybe both. Maybe neither. But one of them should probably say something, before the silence surrounding them stretched too tight and became awkward and uncomfortable.

  "That's what you're wearing? Cara, honestly."

  Travis tossed a withering frown over his shoulder then stepped forward and offered Cara a warm smile. "You look amazing."

  And he meant it. Her long hair framed her face in soft waves, curling just below her jaw before falling along her shoulders. He wanted to plunge his hands into the thick strands, just to see if her hair was as soft as he remembered. Just to feel it curl around his fingers the way it had that night they were together.

  He curled his hands into loose fists before he embarrassed himself by doing just that and let his gaze wander over her.

  The lightweight sweater she wore was a deep blue, the color contrasting her dark brown eyes and making them sparkle. It fell mid-thigh, revealing only a few inches of the black pants hugging her shapely legs before they disappeared into the top of her knee-high black boots. She did look amazing, self-confident and assured. Not overdone. Not like she had gone out of her way to impress him, to dress like someone she wasn't.