Double Score

by Violet Paige

  “Oh, hey.”

  “Hey.” I grinned at her.

  “I guess this is the part where we won’t get to see each other much. Maybe I should just stay at my place this week. Would that be easier?”

  “No. That would not be easier. Even if I get in at midnight, I can still curl up to your naked body.”

  “Who said I’m going to be naked?”

  I tilted her chin toward me. “I want you naked and waiting for me when I get home.”

  Her eyes flared. “And you think I’ll do that? Wait around for you with nothing on? Completely stripped? My skin clinging to your sheets?” She bit on her lower lip, and I knew she was teasing me.

  “You know the rules in this room.” I growled in her ear, my cock hardening at the thought of her crawling in my bed naked. Her perfect ass bare. Her tits exposed. My hand slid under her shirt, working up under her bra.

  She sighed as I rubbed her nipple with the pad of my thumb. It peaked under my touch. “You’re killing me, Doc. I need you. Now,” I growled.

  “I have a surgery this morning. You have to stop.” She backed away and straightened her shirt.

  “And I have hours of film to watch.” I hung my head, fighting off the need to take her. She was irresistible. She was like a drug. One touch wasn’t enough. One kiss wasn’t enough.

  “Can’t promise I’ll be up when you get home, but I do promise to be naked.” She kissed me, and I slapped her on the ass.

  “See you tonight, then.”

  “Forgot my coffee,” she mumbled and rushed to the kitchen.

  I followed her. “Hey, Lennon. I wanted to ask you something.”

  She pulled a thermal cup from the cabinet. “What is it?”

  I scratched the back of my head. As if last Sunday wasn’t enough of a first with my parents, this was going to be another zinger. “I want you to fly up to D.C. with me for the game Sunday.”

  She fastened the lid and spun to look at me. “You want me to go to the playoff game?”

  I’d never taken a woman on the road. I’d never wanted to. Never needed to. There were always women in whatever city we played. But looking ahead to Sunday, I didn’t want to leave Lennon behind. I wanted her with me wherever I was.

  “Yeah, thought it’d be fun.”

  “But your mom said you couldn’t be distracted. And besides, they’re going. I don’t think your dad is my biggest fan.”

  “Don’t worry about them. You already knew my dad was an ass. I want you there with me. We’ll have our own suite.”

  “But don’t you have to stay with the team?”

  “Well, yeah. Team hotel, but it’s not like I have a roommate. I’m the QB. I promise you’ll love it. I’ll fly you up on Saturday.”

  She did that nervous thing where she clicked her fingers against the counter. “You sure? D.C.?”

  “I’m positive. I want you there. I liked having you in my box.”

  “All right. I’d love to go.” She picked up her keys. “I’ve gotta go. I’m late.”

  “Bye.”

  I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. When had I become this man? I was so fucking crazy about her, I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want another woman. I didn’t care about the poker games anymore. Nothing mattered to me other than football and Lennon.

  I leaned against the kitchen counter. Maybe it was all the drugs pumping through my system, or maybe this was the side effect of falling for Dr. Ashworth.

  20

  Lennon

  We would be landing in D.C. in twenty minutes. I fidgeted with my cocktail napkin and looked out the window as the plane began to descend. I should have told him. I thought about it all week. And what Gloria had said was true. Playoffs were a time we’d never see each other.

  He crawled into bed so late I didn’t know what time it was, and it wasn’t really the right time to tell him I’d left an ex of a live-in relationship behind in the city we were traveling to. Besides, would Wes even care? He’d never asked about my past. It was as if we had some unspoken rule about talking about our previous lives.

  I tried to push Ben out of my head. D.C. was a huge city and there was no reason to see him or relive the hurtful memories. I was happy with Wes.

  I pulled my luggage behind me down the jetway and looked for the sign with my name. Wes liked to arrange cars for me.

  But when I saw the driver holding this one, my jaw dropped.

  “What are you doing here?” I ran and jumped in his arms.

  “Shh. Don’t blow my cover.” He kissed me quickly and picked up my bag. “Apparently Sharks fans haven’t noticed me with this hat on.”

  I laughed. He was one of the most recognizable people in the country.

  “How did you get away from the team meeting?”

  “Hasn’t started yet. Our flight got in an hour earlier, so I thought I’d wait for you here. We can ride to the hotel together.”

  He ushered me into a long black car that was waiting for us by the curb. “I love this surprise.”

  “Everyone’s all ramped up about the game tomorrow.” He leaned into the leather seats. “Coach, Stubbs, Hickson.”

  I threaded my fingers through his strong hands. “You know no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.”

  He flinched. “We are going to win.”

  “Well, right. I mean, you’re going to win, and then we go to the next play off game and the next. Wait, how many games are there before the Super Bowl?”

  He laughed. “For a brilliant woman, I like it when you don’t know shit about something.”

  “Hey.” I punched him in the leg.

  “Fuck.” He grabbed at his thigh.

  “Sorry. Did I do something? I didn’t mean to hit you hard.”

  He shook his head. “No, no, just a muscle cramp.”

  I looked at him suspiciously, but the car pulled up and I didn’t have a chance to question him. The driver deposited our bags on the curb and I followed Wes into the hotel.

  “I’ll take you up to the room and you can rest or read. And then I’ll pick you up for dinner at seven. Sound good?” We rode in the elevator to the top floor.

  “Okay. I might go out for a walk or something.”

  “Sure. Here’s the room key.” He handed it to me. “You brought that slutty dress of yours, didn’t you?”

  “It’s not slutty.” I defended my only black cocktail wear.

  He eyed me.

  “Okay, it’s completely slutty, but you don’t have to say it.”

  “Should I call it the I-promise-to-fuck-you dress?” He bit the bottom of my ear and I felt my knees wobble. My panties were soaked, and my mouth was dry. I hadn’t seen him in six hours and I wanted him.

  “What if I can’t wait until dinner?” I was on my toes, trying to draw him closer.

  “Oh, you’re being really naughty right now.”

  I pulled on his arms. “Like you don’t try to make me late for work.”

  “Every day, baby.” He unwrapped his hands from me and tossed a credit card on the sideboard. “If you didn’t bring the slutty dress, you can buy a new one.” He winked. “See you at seven.”

  I crossed my arms as the door closed. Great. I picked up the credit card. At least I could shop.

  I breezed through the lobby, holding my new dress over my shoulder. The woman at the boutique had layered it in tissue and zipped it inside a silk cover. If this didn’t totally distract Wes, nothing would. I grinned, thinking how much fun it would be when he peeled it off my body.

  “Oh honey, we weren’t sure you’d be here.”

  I stopped in my tracks. It was Gloria. There was nowhere to hide in the monstrous lobby.

  “Hi, you two.” Bud was standing next to his wife. I wondered if the man ever wiped that scowl from his face.

  “Looks like you did some shopping.”

  “While Wes is in meetings, I thought I’d go out. I used to live in D.C., so I hit some of my old shopping spots.” />
  “So would that make you a Sharks fan?” It was the first time Bud had acknowledged me.

  “Oh no, I never pulled for them.” He didn’t need to know I didn’t pull for anyone until now. I was a Wranglers girl all the way. The team’s newest convert who even slept in the quarterback’s jersey.

  “Hmm.”

  “I guess I’ll see you at the game tomorrow.” I tried to inch toward the elevators.

  Bud shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know, this game is critical. Nothing more important to Wes right now.”

  “Oh, I know, Mr. Blakefield.” I didn’t feel comfortable calling him by his first name.

  “Don’t lecture her, Bud.” Gloria patted him on the elbow.

  I faked a laugh. “I promise not to keep him out too late.” I pushed on the elevator button, praying the doors would open quickly and I could escape this scene.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” His father didn’t let up. “His full concentration needs to be on the game. The play offs. The Super Bowl. Not the flavor of the week.”

  I thought I had shown a lot of restraint until now, but I spun on my heels. “Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

  Gloria’s eyes hit the floor. I could tell right away she wasn’t going to be my ally. She stood by and let her husband berate me.

  But he held the elevator door for me so I could step in. It seemed like a gentlemanly gesture, except for the fact that he kept the doors open so I couldn’t leave. He leaned in.

  “My son is a champion. The whole world is watching him. And I’m going to say it—you are a damn distraction to what he’s worked toward his entire life. Everyone can see it.”

  The anger bubbled in my belly. Who was he to speak to me this way? I wasn’t a whore or a call girl. I was a talented surgeon who had her own dreams and accomplishments. Hitching my wagon to Wes’s star wasn’t part of my plan. We had our own goals. Our own paths to follow. And right now, we were in each other’s lives. I wasn’t trying to drag him down or steer him away from his passion. Bud Blakefield knew nothing about me.

  “You think I’m a distraction? Me? The one who supports him? The one who cares how he feels and what he thinks?” I let the look of disdain fill my face. “If anyone is a distraction around here, it’s you. You can’t stand it if he isn’t anything but the best. You’re the real problem. Not me.” I tapped the buttons on the elevator, but he kept his hand wedged against the door.

  “He is a winner. And you are expendable.” He let go of the door, letting it close all too slowly.

  There wasn’t anything left to say. Gloria’s horrified face said it all.

  21

  Wes

  The waiter brought the menus, and I ordered a glass of wine for Lennon. I didn’t drink the night before a game. I passed on the beer list. She had spoken less than ten words since we left the hotel.

  I leaned across the table. “Did I tell you how fucking sexy you look in that new dress, Doc?”

  She nodded. “A few times.”

  Something was off. But I didn’t know what. I was in new territory. Truth was, I’d never cared if a woman was upset or preoccupied. The few hours I spent with them weren’t enough to get that involved. But Lennon and I were more than that, and I felt the tightening in my chest every time I looked at her face and saw the worry in her eyes. What the fuck was wrong?

  I was craving a glass of bourbon. Something to dull the tension I could feel between us.

  “You had fun shopping?” I asked.

  “Yes. I went to a few of my old favorite shops.”

  “And you got what you wanted?” Women loved to shop. I thought free reign with my credit card would have made her happy. She could have bought out three stores if she wanted and I wouldn’t have cared.

  “Just the one dress.” She tipped the wine glass to her lips.

  “There’s no limit on that card.”

  She eyed me. “I don’t need your money to buy clothes, Wes. I’m a surgeon. I make a pretty good salary. Maybe not millions, but I can afford a slutty dress.”

  I don’t know what had happened, but something had changed since I left her in the suite this morning.

  “Slutty dress was a joke. You look beautiful.”

  She lowered her eyes. Her fingers worked the corners of the linen napkin. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to think I need your money or I’m here for the money.”

  “When did I ever say that?”

  “You didn’t, but it’s important to me you know that.” She looked at me, but I saw her eyes trail over my shoulder and widen.

  “I don’t care how much money you have, Doc. I want to give you things. Buy you things. Take care of you.” I leaned closer to whisper, but she clearly wasn’t listening. “You are mine, you know.”

  “Shit.” She grabbed the menu from the table and held it in front of her face. “Shit, shit, shit,” she grumbled. “This can’t be happening.”

  “Okay, what in the hell is going on?” I turned and looked behind me to see a couple walking through the restaurant, following the hostess to a table next to ours.

  I tried to wrestle the menu from her hand, but her grip was strong. “Damn it, Lennon. What the fuck is happening?”

  “Lennon?” The couple stopped next to our table as the guy, who was holding the woman’s hand, startled us.

  She lowered the menu slowly. “Ben? What a surprise.”

  “Yeah, I’d say so.” The guy looked at me and then his date. “I guess the tabloids are true. You’re actually dating this guy.”

  Lennon’s eyes narrowed. “Better than the one standing in front of me.”

  “That’s not what you said when we were together.” His expression was cocky.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I stood from the table, feeling an instant surge of jealousy and animalistic need to protect Lennon. “Who the fuck are you?” I poked him in the chest.

  “Wes, sit down. Don’t make a scene. People have their phones out.” Lennon pulled on my arm.

  “No, I want to know who this jackass is.”

  His date had shrunk behind him and pulled out her phone.

  “This is my ex, Ben. Dr. Ben Lennox.”

  “Your ex?” I glared at her.

  I don’t know why I was furious, but I was. My blood was on fire. I wanted to punch the guy, pummel him into the ground, beat the shit out of him. And the only reason was because he used to be with Lennon. My Lennon.

  “Yeah, she didn’t mention she dated a neurosurgeon before the Neanderthal?”

  That was it. My fist reared back and struck him straight in the jaw.

  “Oh my God, Wes!” Lennon’s expression turned from shock to outrage. “What are you thinking?”

  I looked down at the man lying on the floor. His date hovered over him as he sat up, rubbing the swollen spot on his chin.

  “I wasn’t.” The rage was still spilling through me.

  She grabbed my hand. “We have to get out of here. Come on.” She pulled me out of the restaurant and hailed a taxi. We were back at the hotel within minutes.

  Once we were inside the suite, she spun to face me. “Let me see your hand.”

  “My hand? It’s fine.”

  “Let me see,” she ordered.

  I extended my left arm. “I didn’t punch him with my right. I know better than that.”

  She smiled. “And he thought you were a Neanderthal.” She rubbed her fingers over my knuckles tenderly. “Let me get some ice from the bar. Hold on.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed while she tended to my bruised knuckles. Really, it didn’t feel like much. I thought that was one of the side effects of the HGH. I felt almost indestructible. My entire body felt younger and stronger.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had an ex in D.C.?”

  “You didn’t ask.” She removed the makeshift icepack from my hand. “But I thought about it.” When she looked at me, I saw the mist covering her eyes and the heaviness of tears brimming on her bottom lids.
“Your dad was right.”

  “My dad? What does he have to do with any of this?”

  One tear slipped and it ripped at my chest. Why was she crying?

  “I ran into your parents in the lobby today on the way back from shopping. He and I had a conversation. Not a good one.”

  I growled. The man never could keep his opinions to himself. “What did he say to you?”

  “He said I was a distraction. He said I’d ruin your game. He called me flavor of the week.” And with that, the rest of the tears fell down her soft cheeks. She crumpled against my chest and I wrapped my arms around her.

  “Am I expendable to you?”

  “What? No. No.”

  The rage that had built from jealousy and my dad’s bullish words softened as she sobbed against my chest. I smoothed her hair and whispered in her ear. “My dad is an asshole. You know that.”

  “But he’s right.” She gulped for air. “I should have told you about Ben before. Look what happened in the restaurant.” Her mascara was smudged and there were spots on my dress shirt, but I didn’t give a shit. “I wanted to tell you about him. I need to, but I was trying to wait for when the timing was better. Like maybe after the Super Bowl?”

  I played with her hair, feeling the silkiness between my fingers. “You might as well tell me now.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. Let’s talk about the bastard.”

  “We were in the same residency program. That’s how we met,” she explained. “And eventually we moved in together, but kind of like a roommate thing. And then roommates led to us being together. At least, I thought we were together until I came home and he was screwing someone else.”

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, shit.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “It’s the reason I took the job at San Antonio Mission. I wanted to get out of D.C. Away from him. Away from the humiliation. I wanted to start over where there were no lies.”

  I felt the knife twist in my gut. Things were coming together. Why she was so adamant about the honesty between us. Why she was willing to give herself to me in the beginning so freely, but needed to know I could be monogamous. Hell, I’d never been monogamous and agreed to it without thinking it through. But holding her like this, knowing what she had been through, I didn’t want another woman. I wanted this one.