Table of Contents

Other books by Karen Erickson
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Game for Marriage
Falling for the Marine
Wilde for Her
Down the Aisle
Seducing Her Rival
Crash into Me

Other books by Karen Erickson

The Game for It series

Game for Marriage

The Lone Pine Lake series

Jane’s Gift

Tempting Cameron

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Karen Erickson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any
means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at

www.entangledpublishing.com

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Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit

www.brazenbooks.com.

Edited by Stacy Abrams
Cover design by Heather Howland

ISBN 978-1-62266-272-2

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition October 2013

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this
work of fiction: Pizza Hut, NFL, Donkey Kong, iPad, Monopoly, Sports Illustrated, SportsCenter, Jumbotron, ESPN, Bluetooth.

To the readers who’ve patiently waited for Nick and Willow’s story. This one’s for you.

Chapter One

Willow Cavanaugh entered the property management office at precisely five minutes before the

scheduled meeting time. The receptionist who greeted her led the way to a small, empty conference

room, encouraging Willow to have a seat, make herself comfortable, and did she want anything to

drink while she waited?

Considering she might barf from even a few sips of water, she was so nervous, Willow offered a

polite no thank you and a smile, watching the very young, extremely chirpy receptionist bounce out of

the room.

The moment the receptionist shut the door behind her, Willow collapsed in a chair, placing her

sleek black leather portfolio on the table in front of her. She was a wreck. She’d hardly slept last

night, no thanks to her worry over today’s meeting. How much her life could change if things actually

went her way…

This appointment could be the most important of her career. Of her entire life. She’d finally found

the dream location for her catering business: a storefront with tiny rooms she could use to consult

with clients and a large room in the back of the building where she could create and package all of

her product.

The location was prime. The size of the space—perfect. And the cost of the lease was pretty close

to ideal. She couldn’t afford to let this location get away from her. There was nothing else on the

market that fit her needs more perfectly than this building.

She was running out of room at her little house—her business was growing so fast she could hardly

keep up. Five years ago, she’d been drifting, wondering what the heck she was doing with her life.

Never could she have imagined creating a variety of both artificial and organic flavors of cotton

candy and making them available for birthday parties, wedding and baby showers, graduation parties,

and just for fun with her friends could turn into something so much bigger than she’d ever hoped. Not

to mention her cotton candy cocktails, which were becoming a major hit at bachelorette parties.

Now she was booked months in advance with a variety of parties. She turned people away and had

wait lists, which blew her mind. She needed more space, more employees, more…

Everything.

Tapping her foot against the floor, she checked her phone and saw that it was one minute past the

scheduled time. She hated being late. Sorta hated those who were late even more. There was nothing

worse. She flat out didn’t have the patience for being kept waiting. Had little patience for anything

lately, really.

Including a certain man who drove her insane. Why did everything have to circle back to him?

Damn Nick Hamilton and his charming, no-good ways. Her former lover and, if she were being

honest, the first real love of her life always knew how to barge right back into her life and mess with

her head.

Six years ago, for a few blissful months, the summer he’d been in training before he started as a

tight end with the San Jose Hawks football team, they’d had a momentous, life-changing affair. She’d

fallen madly in love with him. And he’d left her in his dust—a hard, painful life lesson that still hurt

every time she saw him.

God, she’d had her hands all over him that night at the restaurant with the team, when she’d been

there as a sort of wing-woman for Sheridan after she married the Hawks’ quarterback, Jared Quinn.

One look at Nick and she’d wanted him. He’d dragged her outside and next thing she knew, she’d

been in his arms. His mouth on hers, how he kissed her…her stomach fluttered just thinking about it.

That he could still work her up into a complete frenzy with only a few words, a touch, and a kiss

infuriated her. She should hate his guts forever for how easily he made her want him.

But she didn’t. More like she feared if he walked into the room at this very moment and demanded

she give him a blowjob with that dangerously sexy smile of his, she’d probably do it, no questions

asked.

Clearly, her last encounter—hell, all of her encounters—with Nick left her thinking like an idiot.

Nick Hamilton was bad for her. Unhealthy. An addiction.

She’d really not even thought of Nick for years. Fine, the Hawks came to the Monterey area for

their summer training, but she never saw him around. But then Sheridan had to go and marry Jared,

throwing Willow right back into Nick’s path.

He’d been hotly pursuing her ever since.

The door swung open, and a man appeared, dressed in khakis and a white button-up shirt, his

wheat-colored hair buzzed short. She automatically stood when he came at her with his hand out.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Cavanaugh. I’m Frank Benson.” He gave her hand a hearty shake

before he sat across from her at the table.

She settled in her chair and offered him a pleasant smile. This was the property management

representative who she’d made the appointment with, but she’d been told the owner of the property

would be in attendance as well. “Is the owner coming?”

“Absolutely.” Frank nodded, opening and glancing over the manila folder he’d brought in with him.

“He just called and said he’d be here in ten minutes.”

Fuming quietly, she pasted on her best fake smile. Didn’t they realize her career was on the line

here? Her future depended on this new location. She couldn’t expand if she didn’t have the space, and

she couldn’t afford any other space. “Perhaps we could start the meeting without him?”

Frank flicked his gaze up to meet hers. “Of course. I could answer any questions you may have in

regards to the property, though regarding any financial dealings, the owner stated specifically he

wanted to be here before we get to those discussions.”

Right. Those discussions. Problem? The lease amount was still a bit high for her rather limited

budget, though still cheaper than what she’d looked at in the recent past. The location was perfect, the

biggest selling point in her eyes. And she refused to ask her dad for help. Walter Cavanaugh was a

successful sports attorney who represented many famous athletes, including plenty of Hawks players.

He had more money than he knew what to do with, and he always stressed how much he wanted to

help her.

But there would be no more “loans” from Daddy. She needed to do this on her own.

She’d hoped to knock the owner down a bit, even as little as a few hundred a month, though she

preferred more, especially since the location had sat empty for a while. She’d done her research,

gathering every piece of information she could about the building. The only bit of info she couldn’t

figure out was who the owner could be.

A secret investor had been brought in well over a year ago to fund and refurbish the entire shopping

center. The location she wanted had an interior structure that wasn’t what the average business owner

was looking for. In her eyes, it was ideal. Perfect. A wedding and event planner’s office was located

in the same shopping center. A bakery that specialized in wedding cakes was across the street, right

next to the bridal gown and accessory store. It was like the four corners of wedding central. She

needed to be in this location just to increase business.

Yet she couldn’t quite afford it.

Letting her smile grow, she adjusted her thick, black-framed glasses. She wore them when she

worked, when she wanted to be taken seriously. There was no getting around it—people took one

look at her face and judged her. Too pretty, too spoiled, too…everything.

Fine. She was pretty. She had been destined to be from the moment she was born—her mother had

been a beauty-queen-slash-supermodel. Her father had exquisite taste. All of his ex-wives were

gorgeous.

Sometimes Willow’s pretty face got her nothing but trouble, so she downplayed the looks. She

didn’t want to intimidate men and make women hate her.

“I have no problem waiting for the owner before we discuss the financials, but I would like to

know a few more details.” She opened her portfolio, thumbing through the lists she’d scribbled on a

notepad when the door cracked open and the receptionist stepped into the room, all flushed cheeks

and dreamy-eyed.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the owner has arrived.” Giggling, the receptionist stepped aside…

And the very bane of Willow’s existence strode into the room, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the

world.

Horror rendered her still for one infinite moment. She stared at him, saw the smug smile on his

face, and her fist instantly curled. If she had the balls to slug him, she would.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Willow snapped the moment the receptionist shut the door.

“Uhhh,” Frank mumbled but she ignored him. Her eyes were focused on stupid, irritating Nick

Hamilton standing there, larger than life, gorgeous as all get out, clad in jeans and an untucked black

button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to reveal those strong, sexy forearms that shouldn’t do a thing for her.

Nope, not a damn thing.

“Well, I’m a little late but not enough to have you cursin’ at me.” He smiled, revealing straight,

white teeth. The tingles that swept over her at the sight of his irritating-as-hell smile irritated her

further. “I’m here for my appointment. With you.”

…

Willow gaped at him, those ridiculous black glasses she wore somehow making her look cuter. She

pressed her full, luscious lips together then opened them again, though not a sound came out.

Look at that. He’d just rendered her silent. A miracle he needed to note with the date and time

because he never thought he’d see the likes of Willow Cavanaugh at a loss for words. She’d given

him an unending rash of shit since they came back into each other’s lives a few months ago.

When they weren’t lip-locked, that is. Kissing Willow was his only guarantee he could shut her up.

He’d been following Willow Cavanaugh around for what felt like fuckin’ forever, though it had

only been a few months. Chasing after her like a dog with his tongue hanging out, tripping over it

every time she gave him the finger, both literally and figuratively. Plenty of that sort of rejection had

been going down since the moment he set eyes on her again, after they’d done everything to avoid

each other for the past six years.

“W-what are you talking about, your appointment with me? We d-didn’t have an appointment,” she

stuttered. That smooth, glossy composure he caught a glimpse of when he stepped into the room was

gone—shattered by his presence. And damn if he didn’t love that.

“The building you’re interested in. I own it.” He held his hand out as if he wanted to shake hers.

Really, he wanted to take that slender hand with the perfectly polished pink nails in his and yank her

to him. Whisper in her ear all the dirty, wicked things he wanted to do to her. With her.

That first sight of Willow after having her absent from his life had nearly knocked the wind clean

out of him. He’d gone to some local festival thing with Jared, shocked all to hell to see Willow

Cavanaugh in the flesh, working a catering booth. She owned the business, she’d told him.

With her rich-as-hell bastard of a father, she could have anything she wanted, but she was running

her own catering business. Talk about a surprise. The Willow he remembered had no problem playing

the spoiled rich girl role.

She’d looked different. More…grown up. Besides the obviously gorgeous curves that were more

defined and made his hands itch to explore, there was that woman’s face. Skeptical, with narrow dark

brown eyes and an expression that said she’d seen it all and wasn’t impressed.

Damn if that expression didn’t make him want to work his hardest to wrap her around his little

finger. She’d been so easy the first time; hell, so had he. They’d fallen foolishly in love—yes, he

wasn’t afraid to say the word love, damn it. She’d been the one for him.

Then Walter Cavanaugh had come to him and warned Nick to stay the fuck out of his daughter’s

life. Insulted him up one side and down the other, insisting his daughter was too good for the likes of

some no good dumbass football-playing hick from Texas.

Thinking about that little speech Walter gave him all those years ago still hurt like hell. His chest

ached with the memory.

He still remembered that first moment he came to Monterey for his rookie season of summer

training camp. The area was nothing like the dusty little town he’d grown up in, smack dab in the

middle of Texas.

He’d been in awe of the pretty little thing he first caught sight of hanging around the football field,

with those long, tanned legs, long, dark hair and a smile that she flashed special just for him.

Well, he’d tossed that right in the can, hadn’t he?

An idea had bloomed in his mind a few days ago when he’d discovered he owned the very building

she wanted to lease for her growing business. She wanted it real bad, too. For whatever reason, word

on the street was Ms. Independent refused to take any money from her father to help with her business.

She’d been such a daddy’s girl back in the day, this surprised Nick. But no, she was looking for a

reasonable business space to lease, and she was having a hell of a time finding it, especially since she

wanted to move her business into a specific area of town.

Nick had invested in a few properties in the Monterey Bay. He happened to own a shopping center

in that area—with the space she was interested in. Very interested in, though she would die if she

knew he was the owner. And wouldn’t that just eat at her daddy’s soul if he knew Nick Hamilton was

his daughter’s landlord?

But damn it, he truly believed Willow was worth the aggravation. Which meant Nick had a fight on

his hands. He loved a fight. Lived for the damn fight. Look at what he did for a living. Went to war

against another team over a stupid ball. Fighting was in his blood. Miss Sassy and Gorgeous-as-hell

Willow Cavanaugh did not scare him.

Well. She might scare him a little bit.

“You’re lying. How do you know about my interest in the building?” she asked after clearing her

throat.

“Considering I’m the owner like I just said, I know exactly who’s interested in leasing my

building.” He settled into the seat next to hers, barely able to restrain the laugh that wanted to escape

when she scooted her chair away from him. It was almost entertaining, the lengths she took to keep a

certain amount of distance between them.

“Please. I don’t know how you found out about this, but quit trying to trick me. I’m rattled enough. I

don’t need you here trying to shake me up further,” she said.

Interesting. So he shook her up, huh? And here she seemed cool, calm, and collected every time he

came around. Well, sorta. He’d shaken her up a few times. Always when he touched her, laid a big

kiss on her that left her in a near stumbling state. She usually composed herself quickly, though. She

was damn good at that.

He had no idea he’d been blowing her ever-lovin’ mind these last few months. This sort of

information could only help, not hinder, his plan.

“I’m not playing any sort of trick on you, Will,” he murmured, leaning in so only she could hear

him. He inhaled her sweet-like-candy scent and let his gaze wander over the length of her elegant

neck. Her long, silky dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and he had the sudden urge to

grab hold of it, jerk her head back, and kiss her until they were both stupid with wanting each other.

She’d probably nail him in the nuts and leave him writhing on the floor if he so much as touched

her.

He was so lost in his thoughts of how he could actually get his hands on Willow, he didn’t notice

her penetrating stare until it was too late. Moving away from her, he slowly shook his head. “It’s not

what you think.”

“You own the building.” She didn’t phrase it as a question. “You. You’re the mystery owner.”

It was like she had to reiterate that he was indeed the owner so the information would sink into her

stubborn brain.

“I didn’t realize I was such a mystery you were hoping to solve.” He smiled, but when she only

scowled back, he let the smile drop.

He was lying. Hell yeah, he’d made sure no one knew who he was when he bought the property.

Not that he’d been trying to entice Willow in any way—that ended up pure dumb luck. His favorite

place in the whole damn world was the Monterey Bay.

Funny how he owned exactly what little Miss Spitfire was trying to move into at this very moment.

Lease price was too high, though. He knew her problem with it, since Frank called him last week

letting him know what the meeting was about. She was here in the hopes she could try and talk him

down.

Nick had come prepared with just the solution. He knew Willow was going to hit the ceiling when

she heard his idea, but he had to try. Had to.

His methods might be controversial but fuck it.

“If I could hit you right now, I so would.”

Willow’s voice tore him straight out of his thoughts. Blinking, he focused on the angry woman

sitting beside him. She did look ready to punch him, if her clenched fists were any indication.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he drawled, sounding a lot more sure than he felt.

She nodded furiously, all that pretty dark hair sliding down her back. Damn, she captivated him like

no other. “Don’t tempt me.”

He arched a brow. Rather apt choice of words. “Listen, I’m not trying to pull something over on

you or anything. It’s a coincidence, pure and simple.”

“Coincidence.” She spit the word out. “Feels more like a set up.”

“Not quite. I consider myself lucky you fell so spectacularly into my lap.” He grinned.

“If you pull me into your lap, I swear to God I’ll punch you so hard in the balls you’ll see stars,”

she threatened.

His grin falling away, he turned his attention to Frank, who sat silent, gaping like a fish as he

watched them, his head bouncing back and forth as if he were at a tennis match. “Frank, my friend,

could you do us a favor and let us have a private moment, please?”

“Absolutely. You two take your time.” Frank hightailed it out of the room so fast the door shut

behind him before he could get the last word out.

Willow stood the moment Frank was gone, staring down at Nick with so much irritation in her gaze

he wondered if she’d burn him on the spot. “How dare you play games with me. This is my business,

my future. And here you sit, as rich as can be, holding everything I could ever want in your hands

without a care in the world.”

He leaned back in his seat, sprawling his legs in front of him so that his feet were planted on either

side of Willow. He wanted her closer. He wished he could jerk her into his lap and drown in that

sweet-tasting mouth of hers but she’d cut him where he sat, so he kept a semi-safe distance between

them. “You’re just as rich,” he pointed out.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, gimme a break. Daddy Cavanaugh cut you off or what? You got money, Will. I know you do.”

He cocked a brow and twisted his lips in a shitty little smirk that she’d most likely hate, deliberately

provoking her.

“I refuse to accept any help from my father. I want to do this on my own.” She crossed her arms in

front of her chest, lifting her nose in the air—all haughty, gorgeous princess. “I started this business

with nothing. On a total whim, I might add, as a favor to friends. How was I supposed to know I could

make a career out of making cotton candy? But I did. And it just took off. Trust me, he’s tried to help,

but I refused him. More than once.”

“Why would you do that?” Nick had always admired her spunk. She found something she wanted,

she went after it. Once upon a time, he’d been the one she wanted, and she came right after him—not

that he’d given her much of a challenge. He still wasn’t a challenge when it came to Willow.

Too damn bad she was the one who now challenged him on a constant basis. Frustrated the hell out

of him, too. If he could get her to give in one time, he’d be set.

“I want respect. I can do this. All of it. This is my business, all mine. I don’t want anyone,

specifically my father, funding any part of it.” She cleared her throat. He knew whose respect she was

looking for—her parents’. What with her too busy daddy and neglectful mama, the girl had been

surrounded by nothing but shitty role models her entire life. How she turned out so driven and smart,

he hadn’t a clue.

“Well, I respect the hell out of you for trying this on your own.” He saw the flicker of pleasure in

her gaze at his words. Damn if he didn’t want to see that again.

“Thank you,” she murmured, settling in her chair once again, her knees brushing against his leg. His

cock twitched, and he wanted to groan.

She looked at him wrong and he was sporting wood. One innocent touch and he might do something

really embarrassing.

“So Will, it looks like I have something you want.” He rested his arm on the edge of the table,

contemplating her.

She stared back, her expression neutral. “You do.”

“Well, guess what? You have something I want.” He tipped his head toward her. “And I’m hoping

you’ll be real agreeable to my suggestion.”

“What suggestion?” she asked warily.

Even her skepticism was a turn on. He had some serious issues.

But he also didn’t want to do this here. It would be much easier for her to walk out on him if she

didn’t like his suggestion—and he knew, without a doubt, she would hate it. In a public place, with

people surrounding them, she wouldn’t be likely to throw a fit. They both had a public persona to

keep, after all, though him more than her.

“It’s not the sort of offer I want to make in such a sterile environment, if you catch my drift. How

about we have dinner tonight? At that amazing little restaurant Charlie owns? I try to eat there every

chance I get when I come visit.”

“You want to discuss this over dinner.” She shook her head, huffed out a laugh. Charlie owned both

the restaurant and the Hawks. Talk about home field advantage. “I should’ve known you’d try

something like this. I’m not going out with you, Hamilton. Hell, no. Bad enough what happened

between us last night. If you think you can get me on my knees again, you’re sorely mistaken.” Her

cheeks flushed the prettiest pink—the same shade her entire body flushed when she was aroused.

He knew this because he’d seen it for himself. More than once.

Shit. One mention of her on her knees and his cock was stirring to life. Damn thing was ridiculous.

“I’m not trying to get you on your knees in front of me at a restaurant, Willow, Jesus. I have more

class than that.”

The harrumph that escaped her told him she thought otherwise. “Please. My memories haven’t been

erased.”

Oh. Oh. “Are you remembering our fondness for gettin’ it on in public places?” He scrubbed a hand

along his cheek. Back in the day, they’d banged everywhere they could. It had been the hottest summer

of his entire life, and not because of the temperature—though it was cool in the Monterey Bay, so that

saying didn’t hold water.

The woman sitting in front of him had aroused him like no other. Set his blood on fire for her. And

then he’d left her.

He was still beating himself up over it. Of course, he’d been forced, so what could he do? Young

and dumb and a complete believer in what her father told him, he’d bailed at the first sign of a threat.

She shrugged, trying for nonchalant, but it didn’t work. He could tell when she was faking it. “I

think you might’ve had issues.”

“You were just as involved as I was, darlin’, and don’t you ever forget it.” He breathed deep,

trying to keep it together. Their conversations always spiraled out of control. Always turned sexual

with a look or a simple comment. He blamed it on the chemistry that shimmered between them every

time they were in the same room together. “Meet me tonight at the restaurant. Six o’clock. We can

discuss my business proposition then.”

“And what if I don’t show up?”

“Then you might lose your chance at this building you want so damn much.” He stared at her for a

moment, saw the way those velvety brown eyes went wide for a fleeting moment before they

narrowed once more. “My terms, Will. You’ll meet me on my terms, or this deal might disappear.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Willow said with a sigh and a slow shake of her head.

“The hardest.” He chuckled. He was hard as damn steel right now just thinking about it.

By the end of the evening, this woman would be his.

And she’d like it, too.

Chapter Two

“You’re going to dinner with Nick?” Sheridan turned away from the canvas, her brush still poised in

the air, her gaze locked on Willow. “Tonight?”

Nodding, Willow chewed on her thumbnail. The bad habit from when she was a child only came

out when she was nervous. “He owns the damn building I want to lease. Can you believe my shitty

luck?”

“No, more like I can’t believe your fantastic luck. You’ve got him where you want him! Nick will

totally cut you a deal on the place. He’s been chasing you for months. You can deny it all you want but

I know the truth—I’ve caught the two of you together, and you always look so guilty. I’m sorry, but

those looks scream the two of you are up to no good. The fun kind of no good.” Sheridan turned back

to the canvas and started painting again: a festive Christmas tree she was going to use as an example

for an upcoming hands-on art class in late November.

“He’s not good for me.” Willow said it as if he were a junkie who knew how to hook her on the

bad stuff—and keep her hooked until she finally overdosed.

“You have a history with him, don’t you? We’ve known each other forever and somehow, you

slipped Nick Hamilton in between your sheets and I totally missed it.” Sheridan shook her head with

a smile. “Worse, you never told me about your secret affair. What kind of friend are you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the same kind of friend who marries a famous hot football player and pretends

it’s for love when it’s really a sham?” Willow refused to feel guilty about hiding her summer love

affair with Nick from her best friend. That had been ages ago. Sheridan had no real excuse for hiding

her fake marriage from Willow and everyone else, beyond a money motivation… Though Willow

could relate.

And thankfully, Sheridan had the good graces to look embarrassed, if her red cheeks were any

indication. “Hey, it started out as a sham but it ended in love.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Willow rolled her eyes. She was sort of sick of the “we’re so in love” talk, because

Sheridan was madly in love with her husband Jared. And he was madly in love with his wife.

Gag.

“So tell me. I want details. Then maybe I could give you a few of my own.” Sheridan made the

offer casually, her back still to Willow as she continued to paint, dropping the sort of bait she knew

Willow would want to hear.

“Fine.” Willow sighed, more than wary to delve into her past. The memories were painful.

“Remember the summer you went to Paris with your grandma so you could tour art galleries and eat

croissants and drink café au laits all day?”

Sheridan set her brush down and turned to face Willow fully, a dreamy expression on her face.

“That was, like, the best summer ever. I met that cute French boy who whispered sexy words in my

ear after he kissed me.”

“He could’ve been whispering ‘I like to eat dog crap and lick the bowl clean when I’m finished’

for all you know,” Willow said with a laugh. “It all sounds sexy when it’s spoken in a foreign

language.”

“Whatever.” Sheridan laughed as well. “Quit dodging the subject and tell me your Nick story.”

“Well, it was the best summer for me, too,” Willow admitted softly. “It was his first season with

the Hawks, and he was under major scrutiny. I’d been hanging around the summer training facility,

following my dad everywhere because hello, I wanted to check out the players.”

“Of course. We were young and hot for older dudes,” Sheridan agreed.

“Right.” They’d been young and dumb is more like it. “I saw Nick and I immediately wanted him.”

God, he’d been so sexy, running down the field, catching the ball with ease. Fast as hell, gorgeous

even when he was exhausted and sweaty. So arrogant and full of himself, but full of fun, too.

They’d taken one look at each other and that was it. She’d pursued him with a single-minded focus

that had surprised her. He’d reciprocated his interest without any sort of pretense. They’d fallen into

bed together—and everywhere else they could do it—and she experienced the hottest sex of her life.

Considering she hadn’t even been twenty at the time, she didn’t have much to compare it to.

Now, years later, she could still say without a doubt being with Nick had been the best sexual

experience of her life.

“He’s very good looking,” Sheridan said. “And charming and sweet. He has this way of talking to

me—talking to anyone, really, and he’s just so…captivating. I adore him.”

“Yeah well, he worked that magic charm all over me for a few weeks, and then he left. Went on to

San Jose to begin the season. Told me we’d never work out. He’d been so abrupt, so unfeeling. It was

like he completely changed and decided he was tired of me.” Bitterness coursed through her, though

really, she was being ridiculous. They’d been young and foolish, and how could she ever think they’d

really have something serious?

But she had.

Asshole.

“You two probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Look at you now.” Sheridan waved a hand

in Willow’s direction. “You hate him.”

She didn’t hate him. She wanted him. And that made her hate herself more. “I don’t hate him,” she

mumbled, finally settling on the stool close to Sheridan’s. “It’s safer for me to act like I can’t stand

him so he keeps his distance.”

“I don’t think he’s doing a very good job at keeping his distance,” Sheridan said wryly.

Great. “What did Nick tell Jared?” She knew what most likely happened. Nick said something to

Jared, and then Jared told Sheridan while they were lying in bed and engaging in post-coital-glow

pillow talk.

“Not enough to keep my gossipy heart satisfied. I’ve heard a few stories of the two of you kissing. I

think I caught you once, though you were definitely not kissing and telling. Oh, and you mentioned just

recently that you were at his house the night Jared came over all despondent over our, uh, breakup.”

Sheridan shrugged. Not one of her favorite moments to recall, Willow was sure.

And fine. Nick had kissed her quite a few times. Always to keep her quiet. Always when she was

yammering at him for one thing or another. Causing an argument with him because she couldn’t resist.

He fired her up and if she couldn’t have him, she’d fight with him instead. It was almost as arousing.

Then he’d go and kiss her anyway. Leave her a shuddering, near devastated mess over it, too. The

jerk. “I don’t know what he wants from me tonight, Sher. I’m nervous.”

Beyond nervous. He was going to try to finagle something out of her. She could feel it in her bones.

“He probably just wants to get in your pants,” Sheridan said.

Willow burst out laughing. “I think you’ve been hanging out with football players too much. You

never used to be this blunt.”

“Oh, I could say something way worse, trust me. Besides, I always had it in me. You of all people

should know this.” Sheridan sighed. “Give the guy a break; go to dinner and listen to what he has to

say. He might have a great idea for how to make this work with the building and the lease. He never

said he wouldn’t lower the price, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.” That was the one bit of hope she clung to.

How she hated that she needed his help. At Nick’s mercy was the last place she wanted to be. But

here she was, ready to beg and plead if needed.

No getting down on her knees, though. She was so done with that scenario it wasn’t even funny.

…

Nick had gone all out tonight for this dinner—called up Charlie and made sure the best table was

available. Hell, he’d even gone shopping at some expensive-as-hell men’s clothing store and bought

an entire new outfit just to impress the woman.

She was now officially twenty minutes late. He’d most likely been stood up. Fuck all if that didn’t

irritate the ever-loving shit out of him.

His cell rang, and he grabbed it hurriedly, pissed when he saw it was his mama. Damn, he’d have

to talk to her tomorrow. Hitting ignore, he shoved the phone back into his pants’ pocket.

Only Willow would stand him up. But why? She was a damn fool to reject him if she wanted that

building so badly for her business. Of course, he’d given her reason not to trust him…when they were

kids.

Fine, he’d given her reason to not trust him right now by not telling her he was the one who owned

the very property she wanted to lease. He did it with good intentions though. Maybe not well planned

but hell, when it came to Willow she had a way of making him do dumb things. Anything he could do

to be with her, he’d do it. He knew what he wanted.

Willow. By his side. And if he had to bribe her to get her to spend more time with him then so be it.

Damn it, he’d never gotten over her. Maybe he needed a new strategy. They were always coming up

with new game plans in the locker room, out on the field.

Looked like he needed to adopt a new one when it came to his love life and getting Willow back in

it on a permanent basis.

Slugging the rest of his soda back in one swallow, he slammed the glass onto the table, glancing

around the small, intimate restaurant. Couples. He was surrounded by couples who were having

romantic dinners, laughing and talking and looking so damned pleased with themselves he wanted to

slap them all silly and tell them love didn’t exist. It was all for fools and suckers.

Right? Man, he sounded bitter. He needed to get over himself.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Her soft, sexy voice called to him like a siren and he glanced up, finding Willow standing beside

the table, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath she took, her expression contrite.

Damn, she was beautiful, wearing a black dress that appeared to cover everything but somehow

revealed it all, too, considering it fit her so perfectly. Her hair was down, spilling past her shoulders

in luxurious waves he wanted to bury his face in. A delicate gold chain wound around her neck,

simple and elegant and so fucking perfect that all thoughts of being angry with Willow for being late

evaporated in the mist.

“Did I keep you waiting?” she asked when he hadn’t answered.

Nick cleared his throat. “Sort of. But you’re forgiven, since you’re wearing that fuck me sideways

dress.”

Rolling her eyes, she settled into the chair across from him, her dress pulling against her chest,

emphasizing the delectable curve of her breasts. His gaze lingered there, his head buzzing pleasantly.

He hadn’t sipped a single drop of alcohol but he certainly was drunk on the sight of her. “Eloquent as

always, aren’t you, Hamilton?”

“Sure am, Cavanaugh. You know you love my blunt talk.” He decided to go for it. He couldn’t

worry about irritating her—she’d already irritated him beyond belief. “I remembered you liked it

mighty fine when I was whisperin’ dirty words in your ear, reciting all the things I planned on doing

to you when I got you alone.”

“I am so tired of you pulling out the ‘we used to fuck so that makes us fine old friends’ card.” She

slowly shook her head, adding a yawn for emphasis. Bored, eh? “Let it go, Nick. We’re finished.

Through. Done.”

He was still left reeling by the fact she said fuck. Seeing that choice word fall from her perfectly

glossed pink lips evoked all sorts of fantasies. “See, that’s exactly what I wanted to propose to you

tonight. After dinner, though. I need something to eat before I launch into my plans for what I’m going

to do to you. Need to work up some strength for fear you might try and beat me.”

“No liquid courage tonight?” She smiled serenely, as if she knew he didn’t drink during the season.

Which she probably did, considering she was so close to Sheridan, and Jared did the same thing.

First few seasons he played pro ball, he also partied like a rock star, and it showed in his game

play. Now he and Jared, plus a few other teammates who’d been around the block a time or ten,

swore off liquor for the entire season every year. Being sober kept them more focused.

“I don’t drink during the season. You know this,” he told her.

“Sounds like you might need a drink, considering you have to deal with me.” She laughed and shook

her head. “It’s going to be fun torturing you tonight, you know. We could’ve taken care of this earlier,

back at the realtor’s office.”

She sounded amused at his expense but at the moment, he couldn’t give a damn what she thought.

“You know what I don’t appreciate? You keeping me waiting,” he practically growled, feeling like an

ass.

She leaned back, her eyes going wide, though he swore he saw a hint of a smile teasing the corners

of her lips. “So sorry. You never even asked what my excuse was.”

“What’s your excuse?”

“Traffic—accident on the One. Awful, too.” Her gaze dimmed. “Looked like someone was

probably hurt pretty badly.”

Well, how could he fault her for that? “That sucks,” he said awkwardly, knowing he sounded like

an ass, but damn. What else could he say?

Raising his hand, he waved down the waiter. At the very least he needed another basket of bread,

considering he demolished the one they’d given him when he first arrived.

The moment the waiter fled to refill the breadbasket, Willow got down to business. “Let’s not draw

this out any longer than we have to.” She leaned over the table, the neckline of her dress dipping,

giving him a tantalizing view of her cleavage. She wore a black, lacy bra beneath.

The woman was trying to straight up kill him.

“Draw what out?”

“The dinner and this entire…charade we’re putting on at the moment. It’s bogus, and you know it.”

She propped her folded arms on the edge of the table, her gaze narrowed. “Let’s cut a deal. I have no

idea what you want from me, but you know exactly what I want from you, and I’m willing to do just

about anything I can to get my hands on that building.”

He cocked a brow. “Anything?”

“No sexual favors, if that’s what you’re hinting at. God, you haven’t changed a bit, have you? Do

you ever not think with that thing between your legs?”

Well, hell, now she’d offended him. “Baby, I can think clearly most of the damn time. It’s only

when I’m around you that my dick decides to tell me what I should do. I can’t help it if I’m still

sexually attracted to you.”

“You could try and tone it down.” Her voice softened, her lids lowered.

If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked aroused.

“Tone what down? The sexual innuendo? I think it’s sorta fun. I thought you felt the same way.”

“No,” she said too quickly. “It’s not fun. Not at all. Especially because I’m trying to be serious

here, Nick. I want the building. I can’t necessarily afford it but I’m hoping you’re willing to listen to

my proposal deal.”

“I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Definitely, since he could just sit there and watch those

beautiful lips move as she spoke. All glossy and pink and full and delicious—which he knew,

because he’d tasted them quite a few times. Not enough for his liking, and never taking it as far as

he’d prefer, but damn. Those lips of hers were utter perfection.

“…and so I was hoping you could knock five hundred dollars off per month. Only for the first year,

though. By then business should be rocking, and I’ll be able to afford the full monthly lease amount.”

He blinked her into focus. Shit. He’d missed half of what she said. “Five hundred off a month?”

She nodded, her expression prim, her gaze hopeful. “I think that’s a fair deal, considering the

building has sat empty pretty much since you owned it.”

Sounded like someone had done her research. “All righty then. Done.”

“What?” She shook her head, her gaze narrowed. “Really?” she breathed.

Damn, he’d given in too easily. Now he could only hope she’d do the same. “I need something in

return, though.”

“Sure. Fine.” She nodded. He could tell she was trying to restrain her grin but it burst forth anyway,

the sight of it momentarily stealing his breath. She was so gorgeous, even more so when she wasn’t

scowling at him and threatening to stomp on his balls with the spiked heel of her shoe. “Oh my God,

Nick. You don’t know how excited I am.”

“That’s amazing, darlin’. I’m glad I could excite you so much.” He took a deep breath, steeling

himself for the eruption that was surely to follow at his suggestion. “Hopefully you’ll still be excited

after you hear my proposal for you.”

“Oookay.” She chewed on her lower lip, looking nervous. “Lay it on me. Don’t keep me in

suspense.”

“Well, I was hoping for a trade.”

“A trade?”

“I give you that most excellent lease amount you just mentioned.” Of which he couldn’t even recall,

since he’d been too damn busy staring at her lips. “And I get ten dates with you.”

Her jaw dropped open. “Ten dates?”

Nick nodded, reaching for his water glass—wishing like hell it was a beer—and taking a big gulp.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking tonight. He needed to keep his head semi-clear when dealing with

Willow. “I told you yesterday I was going to take you out properly and show you what a real

gentleman does when he wines and dines a lady.”

“And you’re calling yourself a real gentleman while trying to blackmail me with dates?” She

grabbed her glass and drained half the wine in one swallow. “I should refuse.”

“Then I rescind my half of the deal.” He leaned across the table, mimicking exactly what she did

only moments ago. “You deny my request, I deny yours.”

She glared at him, her excitement long gone. “I really hate you sometimes,” she whispered.

His heart clenched. He hoped she didn’t mean that. “The last thing I feel for you is hate, Will. Come

on; this won’t be so bad. You can handle it. And anyway, I won’t be around much. I gotta head back to

San Jose first thing tomorrow morning for practice. Playoffs are coming up. I need to be on top of my

game.”

“Fine. Let’s negotiate. Five dates.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, plumping up her

breasts, distracting him completely.

“Nine,” he countered, his mouth going dry at the sight of all that ample flesh—remembering that

lacy black bra.

“Jerk,” she murmured. “Hello, eyes up here. And make it six dates.”

He lifted his gaze, saw the anger blazing in her eyes. “No way.”

“Seven.”

Nick shook his head, his gaze dropping to her cleavage yet again. Damn, he wanted to lick her right

there. Taste all that soft, fragrant flesh, make her go wild with just a few strokes of his tongue…

“Eight.” She clamped her lips shut. “That’s as high as I’ll go, Nick. I won’t do ten. Ten is too

many.”

“Eight it is, then.” He leaned across the table, reaching his hand toward her. “Shake on it. I won’t

sign the deal if we don’t shake. It’s the least you can do for me.”

She extended her hand carefully, almost as if his were a snake and she was afraid he might bite her.

He clasped her hand in his, smoothed his thumb across her palm and felt her shiver. “I feel like I’ve

just made a deal with the devil.”

“Trust me, this devil is more than happy to make the deal with you.” He grinned and slowly

withdrew his hand, his fingers skimming hers. “I have a lot of planning in my future. These dates are

going to rock your world, darlin’.”

Willow leaned back in her chair with her shoulders slumped. She looked downright defeated.

“Tonight counts as our first one, right?”

“No sir-ee. Nice try, though. I’ll give you points for that.” He nodded toward her. “This is a

meeting. Not a date.”

“A meeting.” She rolled her eyes. “Feels like a date to me.”

“Maybe it’s because all those old yearnings you have for me keep bubbling up whenever we’re

together?” She looked ready to tear him apart. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

“You think you can woo me or something with a bunch of prearranged dates? Trust me, you can do

whatever you want. Take me wherever you want. I won’t fall for you. I am so over you, it’s not even

funny.”

The girl threw down a challenge as if she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. “I can guarantee I

will have you in a melted puddle at my feet by the end of date three. You will be begging for it.

Begging. For. It.” He arched a brow. “I’ve never met a challenge I haven’t been able to conquer.”

“I’m not some football team you can strategize to beat, you know,” she said just before she finished

off the rest of her wine.

No, but she was the woman he wanted in his life on a permanent basis. He would have her. The

eight dates deal would make it easier for him to convince her they truly belonged together.

He could do this. He’d faced far tougher challenges before, hadn’t he?

Willow studied him, a sultry smile curling her lips as she wound a thick, glossy brown lock of hair

around her finger. Just watching her do such a simple thing like touch her hair made him break out into

a sweat. Damn, he had it bad.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would conquer her. Make her his once and for all.

Game motherfucking on.

Chapter Three

“I need your help,” Nick said grimly the moment he sat at the table across from Sheridan.

She blinked at him, all baby blue-eyed, golden-haired angel of innocence. “Help with what?”

“Your best friend. What does she like to do when she goes out on dates with…other guys?” The last

two words pained him to say. But damn, he needed a clue, a hint, something to help him figure out

what the hell he was going to do on his first date with Willow, which was tomorrow.

He didn’t need the distraction. A Friday night date right before a most important game was stupid.

Coach Walsh would have his ass if he came to practice Saturday worn out from too much fun.

Not that they’d have any fun like he wanted. Willow would put him off, he knew it. And if he didn’t

play his cards right with this first date, well…

Nerves ate at his gut just thinking about her possible rejection. The lease papers were in

negotiation. She was eager to push it through, but his lawyer had balked at the terms, and Nick went

ahead and let him balk all over the place. She wouldn’t walk, not with the fine details still hanging in

the balance. It was manipulation in its purest form, but he was a desperate man.

More than anything, he had a feeling she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She just wasn’t

ready to admit it yet.

This blackmail scheme had felt like the right thing at the time, but being away from her made him

second-guess himself constantly. Being out of their attitude-riddled rhythm was throwing him off, too.

He’d been practicing intensely for the last three days. He hadn’t spoken to Willow the entire time

beyond a text message letting her know she needed to prepare for tomorrow’s date.

She’d replied with a simple: looking forward to it.

Funny how those four words still dripped with sarcasm despite his not hearing her actually say

them.

“Dates?” Sheridan frowned, wrinkled her nose. Damn, she was cute. Not nearly as gorgeous as

Willow in his eyes, but he could see why Jared was so crazy about her. “Willow doesn’t really go on

dates.”

“What do you mean? All single women as beautiful as Will go on dates. There must be twenty

dozen jerkoffs standing in line who would kill to go out with her,” Nick muttered, shaking his head.

If he had his choice, he’d already be at his little condo, passed out in bed. After a long afternoon of

practice filled with drill exercises that had quite frankly kicked his ass, he was beat.

But here he sat at some place close to the stadium, Jared having asked Nick to join him and

Sheridan for dinner. He’d been outside the restaurant on his cell with his agent when Jared had come

out to join him, also yakking away on his phone to God knows who.

Seeing his opportunity, Nick went for it, ending the call and hurrying back into the restaurant to drill

Sheridan for information.

“You like her, don’t you, Nick? It’s okay, you can tell me. Jared isn’t around.” Sheridan flashed a

knowing smile, one that made him want to confess all of his feelings for the woman who twisted him

in knots.

“I do. I like her. I ain’t gonna lie.” His accent got thicker when he was nervous, and he cleared his

throat, trying to get a grip. “She hates me, though. I did her wrong years ago, and I hate that.”

The knowing smile grew. “I think she likes you more than you know.”

“You know something I don’t?” He peered at her, wishing he could see inside Sheridan’s brain.

Women. They were sneaky creatures most of the time, and he rarely could figure them out.

Sheridan shrugged. “As if I’d tell you all of Willow’s deep, dark secrets. I could never do that.”

“I’m not asking for deep, dark secrets.” Though he was intrigued. “I’m asking what your friend

likes to do on a date.”

“I don’t know. The usual date-type stuff? But like I said, she’s not one who goes on lots of dates.

She…hangs out with guys. They go to dinner, she goes to his house, he goes to hers…”

“Whew, for a minute there I thought you were saying Willow goes out with multiple guys.” He

slumped in his chair with relief. He remembered she’d been a hot little number in bed—who could

forget?—but hanging out with guys made him think she might like being with multiple guys.

And he just couldn’t wrap his head around that idea. The mere thought of sharing Willow with

anyone else literally made his skin crawl.

Well, look at that. He just turned into a caveman.

Sheridan laughed. “You have an overactive imagination now, don’t you?”

“More like I’m a jump-to-conclusions sort of idiot, if you know what I mean.” Nick scraped his

hand over his stubble-covered cheek. “I want to do something different. Not get all dressed up and

take her out to some fancy dinner where I drop a couple hundred on food and drink and watch her

scowl at me while she pushes food around her plate. No thank you.”

That had happened during their dinner meeting, and he didn’t want a repeat. Talk about a bust. He

wanted to dazzle her. Talk to her. Make her fall head over heels for him again.

“Take her somewhere simple. She was raised surrounded by money, you know, so most grand

gestures do nothing for her.” Sheridan frowned. “When we were kids, I was always jealous of that.

Her big fancy house, her rich lawyer daddy, her mom who traveled all over the world. I thought it

was so glamorous, especially since I was on an inter-district transfer using my grandma’s address so I

could go to the Carmel schools versus the crappy Seaside ones. Everything Willow had, I didn’t.”

“Then what?” Nick wanted to hear what she had to say. He appreciated this glimpse into Willow’s

past. He hadn’t been nearly as interested in the particulars that made her who she was when he was

twenty-one.

“Then I realized that Willow envied me and what I had. She was lonely. Tired of the trappings that

so much wealth can afford a person. I know it sounds crazy, but she really was a poor little rich girl.

Still is. That’s why she’s working so hard to prove herself with her business.”

“Uh huh.” Sheridan was chock full of insight. Just what he needed. “So I should keep this first date

simple.”

“Yeah, you definitely should.” She rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her fist.

“She told me all about your deal, you know.”

“She did?” His cheeks grew hot. Why he was surprised and embarrassed he didn’t know. These

girls shared pretty much all their secrets between them.

“I think it’s kind of cute. In a lewd and slightly perverted way.” Sheridan grinned. “I get the sense

you’re trying very hard to get back into her pants.”

“Extremely hard.” He laughed. Well, that could be taken in a variety of ways. “I messed up the first

time around. I want another shot.”

“Another shot to do what?” Her smile faded. “If you break her heart again, you’ll have to answer to

me.”

“I understand. And I don’t just want to get into her pants. I want back in her life in a permanent

way.” He sat up straighter, knowing she meant it. Sheridan was a fighter. She fought hard for her man,

she fought for her career; the girl did not mess around.

Which meant he wouldn’t mess with her—besides the fact his best friend would murder him

without thought if he so much as pissed Sheridan off.

“What are you two conspiring about?” Jared appeared as if he knew Nick was thinking about him

and sat in the chair next to Sheridan. He leaned over and brushed a soft kiss to his wife’s lips, earning

a smile from Sheridan for his efforts.

Nick had grown up with a nice, normal family. His parents were still married, his older sister lived

down the dusty road from the old homestead with her cute little family, and he was the golden boy of

his tiny town. His parents were proud, as was his sister and her husband.

He had simple wants, simpler needs. Yeah, he’d been dazzled when he first got the contract with

the Hawks and everything that came with it—including the fans, the groupies who threw themselves at

him. But he was so over that scene. Had been for a couple of years. A meaningful relationship was

what he sought. With the bonus of having extremely hot sex…and of course he knew he could have all

of that and more with Willow.

“Nick wants advice on how to show Willow a good time.” Sheridan burst out laughing when both

he and Jared looked at her like she was nuts. “It’s true, right? You want to know how to impress her

on a date.”

“Willow needs to get laid,” Jared mumbled, earning a jab in the ribs from Sheridan. “What? I speak

the truth, and you know it. Maybe a night of hot sex would take that stick out of her ass. She’s been

uptight since the moment I met her.”

Sounded good to Nick. He could have her a million ways before their eight dates were up. She’d be

nice and relaxed by then.

“She’s been consumed by work. Worried she was sabotaging her own business by not having a big

enough location. Not enough employees to get the job done,” Sheridan said, glaring at her husband,

who didn’t seem fazed in the least. “She’s had to turn clients away, you know.”

No, Nick didn’t know. He had no clue what was really going on with her personal life. She kept

herself closed up tight. “So by having this new space to work in, she thinks it’ll help business grow,

right?”

“Right. She plans on hiring a few people on a part-time basis to help her, and she can grow at the

pace she wants to, versus feeling all over the place. You made her so happy, giving her the deal on

the lease. She’s very grateful.”

He was hoping to use some of that gratefulness to his full advantage come tomorrow night. Yeah, he

might be jumping the gun, thinking he could have her wrapped around his little finger after one measly

date, but hey. A man could dream, right?

And the very best dreams he ever had always involved a certain someone.

Miss Willow Cavanaugh.

…

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but she’d been working nonstop since Frank the property manager

handed over the keys to her new building two days ago. She’d recruited Sheridan to help her the first

day, moving over a bunch of equipment and supplies until the both of them were ready to collapse.

The two college kids who helped her on the weekends came earlier today, helping her move the

heavier stuff. Pretty much everything she’d wanted cleared out of her house was now in her new

business space. He’d allowed her to move in pending the signed contract, on a trial basis. She knew it

was a done deal, so she could suffer through a few dates. No biggie.

This weekend when she wasn’t working the two baby showers she booked, she was going to set up

her new storefront and the supply room in the back. If she wasn’t so damn tired, she’d be bouncing on

her couch, giddy at the prospect of putting together something that was now so uniquely hers.

Instead, she crashed out and took a nap, only to be woken up by insistent knocking on her door.

Grabbing her phone, she glanced at the time, cursing as she stumbled off the couch and went to

answer the door.

There Nick stood, sexy as hell as always. Clad in dark jeans and a black sweater that stretched

across his broad chest, his hair damp as if he just got out of the shower and his blue eyes locked on

her face. She clutched the door handle for fear she might fall.

“What are you doing here?” she retorted, wincing at her snippy tone. Just seeing him looking so

damn good made it appear.

“Hey,” he said as he drank her in, his brows furrowed. “Did you forget about our date?”

Shit. She probably looked terrible. “I, uh…had a busy day and sort of fell asleep.” This eight-date

deal she’d made with him was irritating, but she needed to meet her obligation. Besides, it wasn’t

such a hardship, spending time with Nick.

Not that she’d admit it to anyone.

He frowned, full of concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Really.” She nodded, offered him a little smile as she opened the door wider. “Come on

in.”

He strode inside, smelling of expensive cologne and irresistible man. Funny how the minute he

entered her home, he seemed to fill it up completely. “If you don’t mind waiting, I can take a quick

shower and be ready to go in less than twenty minutes.”

“Less than twenty, huh?” He turned to face her, his mouth curved in an adorable smile. “Sounds

pretty quick compared to most women.”

“I’m not most women.” Great, there he went with the innuendo and dripping-with-sexiness routine.

Drove her crazy how he did that.

Drove her crazier how she so easily reacted to him, too.

“Trust me, do I ever know that,” he drawled, his gaze trailing along the length of her, so intense it

was as if he’d physically touched her. “Dress causal. We’re going someplace easy tonight.”

“Where?” She’d fully expected another intimate dinner at an expensive restaurant—a place that

made her so nervous she’d consume too much wine and barely be able to eat her meal. The man

agitated her that much.

“A great little pizza place Jared told me about. I guess he and Sheridan go there all the time.”

She frowned, tempted to call bullshit. “A pizza place for our first date? You’re serious?”

“Darlin’, you’re lucky I’m taking you out at all. My idea of romance back home is a hot tub, a jug of

cheap wine, and a loaded extra-large pizza from the local Hut. No onions though, because I’d fully

expect to kiss you before the night is through.” He chuckled. “So consider this date my modified

homegrown way of romancing you.”

Willow wrinkled her nose. The scenario he described sounded like something out of a cheesy TV

show. But it also sounded kind of fun. Different. “There will be no kissing involved on this date, I

hope you know. None. I have no time for romance.”

She was desperate for romance. Just not from him.

Well. Sort of.

“Really?” Nick frowned, leaning in closer, his mouth at her ear. “Guess I’ll order those onions

after all,” he murmured, his voice low, his breath warm on her sensitive flesh. “Since I won’t have

any need to kiss you, being all anti-romance like you are.”

A shiver moved through her. Damn him and his sexy voice, talking about romance. “You’re really

taking me out for pizza?”

“Sure am.”

“And this counts as one of our dates?”

“Sure does.”

She pulled away from him, meeting his gaze. “And you won’t try any funny business?”

His expression turned serious, those laughing blue eyes darkening in an instant. “Sure can’t promise

that. A man’s gotta at least try, right?”

She half hoped he would.

“Twenty minutes,” she told him as she started toward her bedroom. “I’ll be ready.”

“Hey Will.” His soft voice reached her as she walked down the hall, and she turned to see him

watching her.

“Yeah?”

“Wear your hair down.”

Willow frowned. “Are you telling me what to do?” She remembered when he used to ask her to

keep it down all the time when they were together that summer. How much he’d enjoyed stroking it

with his fingers. Thrusting his hands in it when he kissed her. Tugging on it when he…

“Merely making a simple request. Reminds me of how you used to wear it when we were younger

—except your hair was longer back then. I like seeing all that hair of yours loose and tumbling down

your back. Makes me wanna bury my fingers in it when I kiss you.”

Her heart fluttered. Their memories were on the same page. “No kissing, remember?” she said

weakly, her mind awhirl at the images he was conjuring up.

“Right.” He stretched the word out. “No kissing.”

The moment she shut her bedroom door, she sagged against it, blowing out a harsh breath. They

agreed to no kissing, but it was all she could think about.

Kissing Nick, those big hands of his in her hair, tugging her close, his tongue searching her mouth,

his hips grinding against hers…

She wouldn’t survive the night if her thoughts kept at this pace.

Chapter Four

The restaurant was a cute, charming hole in the wall—if you could call anything in downtown Carmel

a hole in the wall—with brick interior walls and a fireplace blazing with the coziest fire she’d ever

seen. There was even a dog curled up in front, an old black lab with a gray muzzle, sitting on his dark

green dog bed without a care in the world.

Willow loved it. Not that she’d admit it to Nick, but the restaurant was so cozy, so warm and

inviting. The tables were full, there was a large room in the back filled with pool tables and a

beautiful, gleaming wood bar that quite a few people sat at, tipping back beer and munching on pizza

they sold by the slice.

Considering she’d grown up in the area, she couldn’t believe she’d never heard of the place before.

Nick ordered an extra-large pizza fully loaded—sans onions, it should be noted—and a pitcher of

beer just for her, despite her protests. He said it would relax her. She rarely drank beer, but whatever

Nick ordered went down smooth from the first sip and next thing she knew, she’d tipped back two

glasses and consumed three pieces of pizza.

And was seriously considering a fourth.

“Damn girl, you know how to put it back,” Nick said with a laugh as he polished off his fourth

piece.

Only Nick would point out she was a total pig. And only with him did she slip enough to eat like

one. Was that because she’d known him for years? Back then, she’d been without a care in the world,

eating whatever the hell she wanted and never gaining an ounce.

But that was a long time ago. Now she exercised, ate right, and rarely indulged.

“I guess I was starving. I’ve been working a lot lately, moving everything in to the new spot.” She

wiped the corner of her mouth and reluctantly tossed her dirty napkin on her empty plate.

Damn it. She’d really been eyeing that thin slice still sitting on the pan.

Leaning over her, Nick grabbed the crumpled napkin and set it on the table beside her plate before

he grabbed the very piece she’d been staring at and set it on her plate. “Don’t deprive yourself,” he

murmured close to her ear. “You want it, you go for it.”

He could be talking about a multitude of things, none of which she should be remotely considering.

She slowly turned her head to meet his gaze, startled that his face was so close to hers. She could see

the golden flecks in his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw, the tiny scar that ran at the corner of his lush

mouth.

His mouth. She both despised and desired that mouth of his. The words he said irritated and

aroused her—which, of course, was more than part of the reason she was irritated. She shouldn’t let

him get to her. He was blackmailing her, for the love of God, most likely doing this—forcing her to go

on a date with him, multiple dates with him—just to drive her crazy.

Worse? A tiny, secret part of her wished there was something real between them. Something old yet

fresh. She liked that they had a history, however painful it was for her to remember. Though there

were good times between them. Plenty of good times…

Blinking, she realized she was still fixated on his mouth. He certainly knew how to use those lips

so every thought that floated through her head evaporated upon impact. His mouth should be a

designated lethal weapon.

She so needed to stop thinking about his mouth, their past…everything. It was pointless. This date

was pointless.

“I’ll get fat,” she murmured.

“You are the farthest thing from fat.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, her waist, and her backside.

“Besides, I like curves on my woman.”

“I am not your woman,” she retorted, pulling away from him. Just like that, his mouth broke the

heady spell she’d been so close to falling completely under.

“Don’t squash my dreams, Will.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture sweet, the

look in his eyes hot. “Have you gotten prettier over the years or what? I didn’t think that was

possible.”

She scowled. Caught sight of the sincerity in his gaze, and, Lord help her, her mouth, her entire

attitude, softened. “Stop trying to sweet talk me,” she protested.

“It’s the God’s honest truth. I remember when I first saw you, following your daddy while he strode

the edge of the field.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured, sort of wishing he would go on.

“He wore a suit that probably cost more than my own daddy made in three months’ salary. He

scared the hell out of me.” Nick mock shuddered.

Willow laughed. Nick described her father perfectly. He was a lawyer to the rich and famous—a

few celebrities, though most of his clients were professional athletes.

“And then I saw you trailing after him. Pretty as a picture, wearing those little shorts that showed

off your long legs and all that dark hair waving in the wind and calling my name. You locked eyes

with me and I was a goner.” He smiled.

She had no reply. That was exactly how she felt the first time she saw Nick. A goner. He’d touched

her, he’d kissed her, and she’d fallen into bed with him, just like that. Being near him shredded her

willpower to bits.

“Give me a break,” she said, though her voice wavered. Was he some sort of snake charmer?

Working his magic on her with words and memories and heated glances?

He was hypnotizing her. She could try and blame it on the beer but she knew the truth.

Really, she blamed it on the man.

“I’m still a goner.” His voice lowered to a dangerously sexy level. “You’ve always had that effect

on me, Will. Hard to think when I’m around you.”

“If you think all this talk about our past and how hot we were for each other is paving the way for

the two of us to end up in bed together tonight, you’ve got another thing coming,” she warned, refusing

to fall for his charm.

Fine. She had the same issue as he did when she was with him. They spent a few minutes in each

other’s company and next thing she knew, she was contemplating kissing him. Touching him.

Allowing all the old hurt and long-held resentment to fade away until it was just the two of them.

Alone. Together. Again.

Bad enough he tempted her, sitting there so close to her in an intimate booth, their thighs pressed

together. All his hard, tantalizing heat searing her from the inside out, firing off all those sirens within

her body, saying no, no, no.

More, more, more…

“So I hear from Sheridan your business has really taken off,” he said, as if he was just making idle

conversation.

She knew he was probably digging, but for once, she didn’t care. They’d never really talked about

her business before. Usually for Nick, when he saw her in his vicinity, it became all about the chase.

“It has. That’s part of the reason I was looking for a new location. I need more space to make

everything.”

“Cotton candy, huh?” He grinned, and the sight of it made her feel young. Free. Made her think of

the good times she shared with this man. “Now, I definitely think you’re sweet, but this is the last type

of business I ever expected to see you doing.”

She stiffened her spine, going on the defensive. “More like you saw me as a spoiled little rich girl

who lives on her daddy’s money?” Because that’s how everyone else saw her.

“No.” He drawled the word, his gaze locked on her face. “You were always filled with

determination, Will. I figured you’d become a cutthroat lawyer like your daddy.”

Why his remark pleased her she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t have time to analyze it. “I thought about

it at one point,” she admitted.

“I don’t doubt that whatsoever. Cavanaugh and Cavanaugh sounds downright frightening.” He

smiled. “So come on, tell me about your business.”

Wariness settled over her. Why did he care? “I know, it’s totally crazy. But it’s also a lot of fun.

And different. Not that many people have cotton candy at their parties, or baby showers or

bachelorette parties, you know? And everyone loves cotton candy, right?”

“Absolutely. I’ve always been a fan of sweets.” His gaze heated as it roamed over her, and she had

the distinct feeling he wasn’t talking about food.

“The flavors I come up with, I try and make them unique. And they’re all organic, made with no

dyes or preservatives.” Excitement bubbled up within her. She enjoyed talking about her business.

She was proud of it, of what she’d come up with. “People with allergies can eat my cotton candy.

And my cotton candy cocktails have become a real hit, too. It’s crazy, how I’ve been so busy.”

“You’re smart, Will. I always had faith that you’d go far no matter what you did.” His smile faded,

though his eyes still sparkled. She could drown in them if she let herself. “You should be proud.”

“I don’t have anything to be proud of yet,” she said quickly. Because really, she wasn’t a complete

success. A business took a long time to build, as her father not-so-kindly told her over and over again.

When he wasn’t trying to force money on her to “invest.” She didn’t know how many times she’d have

to refuse him before he got the hint.

“Don’t downplay your skills, darlin’.” Reaching out, he drifted his fingers across her cheek, his

feather light touch making her insides quiver. “You used to do that when we were together. You’d

downplay everything. Even that pretty face of yours.”

And that’s all he cared about, right? Her pretty face? Ouch. She so didn’t need that reminder. “Let’s

just leave the past in the past. These dates we’re going on mean nothing, you know,” she said

defensively, inwardly wincing. God, she sounded like such a bitch, and she didn’t mean to. But all the

remembering was making her uncomfortable.

His hand dropped from her face, his good mood gone thanks to her. “Of course they mean nothing,”

he mumbled. “Not to you especially.”

She slid down the bench, immediately missing him, which was so stupid. He was blackmailing her

into this entire situation. So why did they both seem to keep forgetting that very important fact? “I’m

doing this to get my new building and to somehow amuse you. That’s it. Don’t read anything into it.”

His gaze darkened as he stared at her hard. “Tell me you didn’t just feel something between us.”

She pressed her lips together for fear she’d say something stupid like, take me now.

“Tell me I mean nothing to you. That every time I kiss you—hell, look at you—you don’t want me.”

His eyes smoldered as he moved toward her.

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” she whispered, wishing she could escape. But he had her effectively

trapped in the booth.

And he knew it, too.

“Hey, aren’t you Nick Hamilton?”

They both turned to find two boys standing by their table, their eyes round as saucers. One of them

wore a Hawks team jersey.

With Nick’s number emblazoned on the front.

He moved away from Willow, taking all that lethal charm with him and throwing it at the boys.

“Why, as a matter of fact I am. How are you boys doing tonight?”

“Holy crap!” the one in the jersey crowed, the other one jabbing him in the ribs.

“Your mom is gonna kill you if she hears you cursing,” the second boy said.

Nick laughed and stood, smiling at them. “You guys want an autograph?”

They hopped up and down like overeager bunnies at Nick’s offer. Willow watched with fascination

as he said all the right things, chatting it up with the boys, asking their names, what grade they were in,

what school they went to. Totally deflecting anything about himself and making the kids feel like they

were special.

His actions touched her. Far more than she cared to admit.

When the mom of the boy wearing the Hamilton jersey came over to see what all the fuss was

about, she screamed so loudly she drew everyone in the restaurant’s attention, to the point that Nick

soon became swarmed, signing autographs, taking pictures. He even kissed a baby like he was some

politician and had to politely disentangle himself from the grip of a woman who claimed her biggest

dream was to marry him.

Willow didn’t know how he dealt with it all. He was so easygoing, so freaking nice to everyone.

She would’ve been growling and snapping like a feral animal by now, what with how insistent they

were, how grabby they could be.

“This your girlfriend?” A guy in his early twenties tipped his head toward where Willow sat, a big

smile on his relatively handsome face.

“No,” she said the same time Nick answered, “Yes.” She glared at Nick before she turned her

attention back to the cute guy. “We’re old friends,” she explained, waving a hand toward Nick.

“Well, if you’re just friends…” The flirtatious look on the guy’s face told her exactly where he was

taking this next.

“If you define bed buddies as old friends, then yeah, I guess that’s what we are,” Nick said tightly,

sending a death glare toward the poor guy, who threw his hands up in front of him defensively.

Mister Easygoing, friendly with everyone, was long gone. He acted downright jealous that this guy

was even talking to her.

“Whoa. Not about to poach off you, dude. Have fun with her. She’s gorgeous.” The guy backed

away slowly. “Good luck in the playoffs!”

Everyone else scattered within minutes, leaving the two of them alone once again. Nick slid back

into the booth, sitting next to her—definitely not something old friends did—and poured her another

beer, staring at her when he set the pitcher down.

“I think we need to define exactly what’s going on between us at this moment,” he said.

She arched a brow. What more could there be to define? “Do tell.”

“When you’re with me, on one of these dates, I’d like it if you at least pretended to have some

interest in me.” His eyes narrowed. “No flirting with other guys allowed.”

Parting her lips, ready to protest, she was cut off with a single look from Nick.

“Would you like it if I flirted with other women while we’re out together? I don’t think so.”

He had a point. “You were flirting. That woman said she wanted to marry you, for God’s sakes.”

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll accuse me of being an asshole but I hear that sort of

thing every single day. I can’t help it if I’m a public figure, darlin’. I can’t help it if women throw

themselves at me and say they wanna marry me or whatever other crude offers they make. Because

trust me, the crude offers? They come at lightning speed, especially with Jared off the market.”

She gaped at him. Maybe she should be glad they hadn’t made it as a couple. Could she stand

having women ogling him and saying such horrific things? Hot, sharp-edged jealousy boiled within

her.

Stupid. Useless. Crazy.

“Maybe we’re using these dates as some sort of twisted game to get what we both want. And maybe

we’re just blowing smoke up each other’s skirts, but when you’re with me, you’re with no one else.

Got that?”

Her cheeks flared with heat. His possessiveness was sort of a turn on. He was trying to be all tough

and macho, but she saw the vulnerability in his gaze. She recognized that look, remembered seeing it

when they’d been different people. “You don’t wear a skirt, Nick. Unless you’ve picked up some new

kink in the last few years I know nothing about.”

He smiled, slow and easy, sexy as hell. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it, and the argumentative

mood was broken, just like that. “I’m sure I’ve picked up a few tricks that’ll rock your world if you’d

just give me a chance, but no. I’m not into the whole cross-dressing thing.”

She slowly shook her head, amused at the vision of big, bad Nick Hamilton dressed in a gown with

full makeup and a wig. “Might be interesting to see.”

He scowled. “Woman, if you’re suggesting I do something like that, I’m afraid I’ll have to offer you

a firm hell no.”

Teasing him came so easily when she allowed herself. So did laughing with him when she should

still be angry. Yeah, she needed to get over herself and all of this old resentment that hung around her

like a black cloud. It didn’t do her any good, holding onto it. “Go ahead, rain on my parade.” She

mock pouted. “I was hoping we could go on a date at one of those bars where everyone’s in drag.”

His brows drew down in mock horror. “You gotta be kidding me. Isn’t this place good enough? I’m

trying to wine and dine you here.” He waved a hand distractedly.

A laugh escaped her. “Wine and dine me at this sort of place?”

“This is my type of place. And you know you like it.” He braced his hand on the table and leaned in

close. So close she could feel his breath feather across her lips, his chest brushing against hers. “No

pretenses. No bullshit. I’m trying to show you who I really am. And that I haven’t changed since we

were last together.”

“What? That you’re still careless?” Her protest was weak, her heart rate picking up at having him

closer. She pressed her hand against his chest. Not to push him away, but to reassure herself that he

was indeed real.

Oh God, he was so real. His flesh was hot and hard, even through the soft fabric of his sweater. His

heart beat like a hammer beneath her palm, matching the aroused rhythm of her own. “Fine,” he said,

“you got me. I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed for the better. I’ve grown up.”

“You certainly have,” she couldn’t help but murmur, her gaze wandering over him. He’d grown up

in all the right places. Hot and smelling delicious, overwhelming her with a few choice words and

that hooded, sexy gaze.

“Why, Miss Cavanaugh, are you interested?”

His drawl was extra lay-it-on-thick and she flicked her gaze up to find him staring at her, batting his

eyelashes. “Interested in what?” she asked too quickly. She knew exactly what.

“Interested in me. Because I am sure as hell interested in you.”

…

One date in and he threw all his cards out on the table like some sort of naïve idiot. He did not do this

sort of thing. He played it cool. Women were fun; he used to like to indulge in them. He liked even

better when he could indulge and move on quickly. No fuss, no muss.

Not anymore though. Since Willow waltzed back into his life, he could think of no one else but her.

He wasn’t interested in any of the ones who flung themselves at him on a constant basis. That sort of

behavior had become worse now that Jared was a married man. Six months ago, Nick would’ve

relished in it. Any woman he wanted any time he could have her? Perfect.

Instead, all he could think about was Willow.

She pushed him like no other. He wanted her. Bad. So bad, he laid it all out on the line like a

dumbass. For nothing, considering she played hot and cold all night long, but what else was new? He

thought he had her one minute and lost her completely the next.

His heart threatened to pound right out of his chest, he was so worked up. A multitude of emotions

ran through him. Frustration. Anger. Lust.

Lots and lots of lust.

“I’m not some sort of toy you lost that you can demand back into your possession,” she said

haughtily. “You lost me, but you have no one else to blame but yourself.”

That snobby tone of hers both pissed him off and turned him on. Damn, when he finally got her

naked and beneath him, it was going to be so explosive they both might not survive it.

“Fight it all you want.” He touched her again, let his fingers skim the silky soft skin of her cheek,

felt her tremble beneath his fingertips. She was irresistible. For whatever reason, her argumentative

attitude made him want her more. Made him want to prove her wrong.

He was a better man than she believed.

“There’s nothing to fight,” she whispered, her eyes widening when he traced her bottom lip with his

thumb. “One date down, seven to go. After that, we go on our merry ways. Separately.”

“I’ll always own the building your business is in. Don’t ever forget that.” Her mouth was soft and

plump. He wanted to kiss her. Suck that sexy lower lip of hers between his own and nibble and lick it.

Roam his hands all over her body, see if those specific spots that used to get her all hot and bothered

still did.

Yeah. He hadn’t forgotten. When it came to Willow, he couldn’t.

“I’m sure your trusty property manager, Frank, will be a tremendous help to me if I need anything.”

The pointed look she gave him was clear. Willow wanted to wipe her hands clean of him and their

agreement the minute the terms were complete.

“Stop touching me,” she whispered when he hadn’t answered, his fingers still on her face, his

thumb grazing the corner of her lips.

“I like touching you. I want to do more than touch you.” He wanted to do more than touch her, but

he’d take what he could get in the meantime. Certainly a little harmless kissing never hurt anyone.

And he was dying to taste her. Drown in her…

“You don’t play fair with your words.” She released a shuddering breath, and he reluctantly

dropped his hand away from her face. “You say things like that and you…”

“I what?” This was good. Her admission was progress.

“You make me want to smack you,” she confessed.

Progress just flew right out the window, damn it.

“You ready to go?” he asked grimly, already sliding out of the booth.

She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. Grabbing her purse and coat, she followed after him, which was

answer enough.

Disappointment crashed through him, and he pushed it back. They exited the restaurant without a

word to each other, though he waved at the owner, who stood behind the cash register with his wife,

the both of them enthusiastically encouraging him to come back soon.

Yeah, he doubted he would, unless he had Willow by his side. She’d tainted the place. His thoughts

were tainted. Maybe he was being dramatic, but damn. The woman flat out wrecked him. His

expectations had been way too high, and now he was dealing with the crash and burn.

It hurt.

He had a good life. Grew up in a small town with a good family. Life was simple. Uncomplicated.

He’d played peewee football league and morphed into a decent player come junior high. By high

school, he’d been amazing. Fast as hell and could catch a ball like no other. He knew some of it was

dumb luck, part skill, and just part hey I want it, I’m gonna get it that led to his progression into the

NFL.

That’s how it had always been for him. He wanted something, he went after it, and he got it. Easy.

Willow Cavanaugh was not easy. He thought she would be; he knew she still wanted him. But for

whatever dumb as hell reason, she pushed him away. Constantly. Pretty much told him she wanted

nothing to do with him. For months, they’d played this game.

And up until now, he’d liked the game he was playing with Willow. Deep down inside, he wanted

more though. What they could be as a real couple didn’t feel like a game anymore. It was life. His life

—and he wanted her in it.

No matter what it took.

There was no way in hell he was quitting his pursuit of Willow. He was just sick of the fight. Sick

of the game.

Oh, he’d keep up the date pretense just to make her suffer. He’d rein it in though. Not lay on the

charm so thick.

Hell. He didn’t know what to do.

But no more laying his feelings on the line, no more sweet-talking words and cocky assuredness on

display. She didn’t want him, and she’d more than made that clear.

If she wanted a battle, he could give her one. He’d won plenty of wars in his past.

He remained silent the entire drive, and the moment he pulled up in front of her house, her hand was

on the door, her body poised and ready to spring from the car. He grabbed her arm, stopping her from

exiting.

She glanced over her shoulder, her irritation clear. “What?”

“Local game on Sunday, but if we win, I’ll most likely be going out of town for the next one. I’m

hoping we can fit our second date in Monday or Tuesday night. Preferably Monday.” Her arm was

slender. He could wrap his fingers completely around it, which made him feel like some sort of he-

man.

“What if I have plans Monday?” Her voice was like ice. He knew she was mad at him.

Well, good. He was mad at her, too, since he was never one to hide his feelings. More than half the

reason he got into messes like this.

“Cancel ‘em.” No more Mister Nice Guy. He could be as much of an asshole as he needed to be.

She pressed her lips together and gave a little tug, but he didn’t let her go. “Fine. Text me Monday

morning and let me know what the plan is for our next date.”

“Will do.” He loosened his grip on her but still didn’t let go. Even through the fabric of her long-

sleeved shirt, he could feel her. Soft, fragrant skin, arms he’d like to loop around his neck when he

pulled her into his lap, so he could cradle her and kiss her until the both of them were moaning and

begging each other for more.

Fuck it. Taking a deep breath, he pulled her into him and kissed her, pressing his mouth to hers. Her

lips were unyielding, her body tense, and when he broke the kiss first, she cracked open her eyes,

glaring as if she wanted to murder him where he sat.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered harshly.

“A kiss, not that you seemed too into it. You’re making me insane, woman. I’m tired of it. You

wanna go, let’s go.” He kissed her again, just to piss her off. She struggled against him, pulling away

so she could stare at him.

“What do you mean, let’s go? And you promised there would be no kissing.”

“Aw, come on. Eight dates to me implies some kissing would come into play.” He rolled his eyes

to make it worse.

He was playing with fire. She was mad, but he couldn’t work up enough worry to let it bug him. At

the moment, he’d rather see her angry than indifferent. That kiss had sucked. He knew she wanted him.

Why couldn’t she just give in?

Maybe she has you all figured out, asshole. Maybe she knows what her dad did to you and

doesn’t care.

Well, hell. That thought alone fueled his anger to a slow boil.

She parted her lips, stared at him incredulously. “That was incredibly rude,” she spat out.

“As if everything you’ve said to me has been filled with sweetness and light. You’ve been rude

from the moment I came back into your life.” He did what he’d been dying to do since he stared at her

lips earlier like a starvin’ man desperate for a taste.

He nipped her lower lip with the edge of his teeth, biting just hard enough to give her a sting but not

so much that he’d draw blood. He was no vampire, but damn it felt good, sinking his teeth into the

succulent flesh of her mouth.

“Ow!” She jerked away from him, sucking on her lower lip. Damn, that was hot. “What the hell is

wrong with you?”

“All you seem to want from me is a fight.” He released his hold on her and settled back in his seat.

He was behaving like a complete asshat.

“So that calls for you to bite me? I can’t believe you did that.” She gingerly rubbed her lip with the

tips of her fingers. Just watching her touch her mouth made him hard. Which made him angrier.

“Maybe it’s best if you get on in your house and lock the door,” he said, his voice rumbling from

deep in his chest. If he started growling at her next, he wouldn’t be surprised. “You’ve got me in such

a temper I think we need a little distance.”

“Sounds fine to me.” She opened the car door and climbed out, bending down so she could look at

him. “You could apologize, you know.”

“What if I’m not sorry?” He rubbed his hand over his cheek, contemplating her. She looked ready to

say something—probably something mean—but she clamped her lips shut at the last minute and

slammed the door.

She stalked up the sidewalk toward her front door, those womanly hips swaying, the curve of her

ass in those tight jeans driving him wild. He’d chase after her if he was ensured a hot night of creative

sex.

Tonight, he was done chasing.

Willow unlocked the door and opened it, pausing on the threshold. Frowning, he waited for her next

move before he pulled away from the curb. He wasn’t about to leave until he knew for sure she was

in her house safely.

He was a gentleman like that. Not that Willow much appreciated it.

Slowly, she turned to look at him, her face cast in shadow from the dim front porch light she left on.

He couldn’t see her, had no idea what her expression was, but she seemed to be waiting.

For what?

She gestured at him, making circles in the air with her index finger, and he rolled down the

passenger side window, leaning across the center console so he could yell at her. “What’s your deal,

Cavanaugh?”

“Why haven’t you left?” she asked.

“I’m making sure no serial killers are lurking in your house.” Jesus, the woman questioned every

single step he made.

“You really think there would be more than one serial killer lurking?”

That was it. That was fucking it. He put his car into park, shut off the engine, and pocketed the keys,

sliding out of the car so he could stalk up the sidewalk much like she had only seconds ago, stopping

so he stood directly in front of her, his hands on his hips, his frustration mounting to near inexplicable

levels. “You enjoying this even more now that I’m fighting back?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“Always,” he said, nervous as hell to hear what she might say.

She hooked her fingers into the fabric of his sweater and drew him close. He nearly tripped on his

own feet, he was so shocked by the sudden move. “Yes,” she breathed before she stood up on tiptoe

and kissed him.

Chapter Five

God, he tasted so good. He could kiss all the sense right out of her mind and she wouldn’t protest.

Couldn’t protest, either, since her voice had completely left her.

Nick could steal her ability to speak merely with his lips and a few strokes of his tongue.

Angry Nick was a sexy Nick, and she could never admit this to anyone, especially him, but his

shitty behavior had turned her on. When he bit her lip? She’d been equal parts shocked and aroused.

Oh, who was she kidding? The bite had been hot. His terse words, hotter. The angry look on his

face? Hotter than hot. Her panties were wet, her entire body tense and edgy, screaming for him to

touch her.

He still wouldn’t touch her. Oh, they were lip-locked, but his hands weren’t on her.

She desperately wanted those hands on her.

“Come inside with me,” she murmured against his decadent mouth when she broke the kiss, licking

at his parted lips.

“Is this some sort of trick?” He stepped away from her, his mouth damp, his expression wary.

“No.” She shook her head. She couldn’t take it any longer. They’d danced around this for too long.

Tonight, she would have him. She should be furious at herself for giving in so quickly. Date one of

their eight-date deal and she was practically begging him to come inside so they could get naked

together.

Shameful, hussy-like behavior, but she didn’t care. When was the last time she had an orgasm with

a man? Oh, a little self-satisfaction took care of things when she was feeling needy, but she honestly

couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex with a man and came.

Without a doubt, she knew Nick would give her an orgasm. Multiple orgasms.

All she had to do was ask.

“One minute you’re mad at me, and now you’re asking me to come inside?”

Oh, that sounded deliciously dirty to her newfound filthy mind. “Yes, Nick. I am most definitely

asking you to come. Inside.” She put extra emphasis on the last two words.

A single dark brow rose, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his

jeans. “I don’t trust you.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t trust you.” He watched her, his gaze running down her body slow and easy, like he

had all the time in the world. Whereas she felt like she would combust if she didn’t get him in her

house and in her bed at this very minute.

“Why don’t you trust me?” And having this conversation while they were standing on her front

porch? Even more bizarre.

“I’ll walk inside, I’ll get a little too eager and slide my hand up your shirt or in your panties, and

then you’ll tell me to get out.” He scuffed his foot at the concrete like a little kid. “I’m not sure I want

to take that risk.”

His words made her want to squirm. At the very least, press her thighs together to stave off the ache

that bloomed between her legs. “I won’t say no.”

He made a scoffing sound. “This game we’re playing is sick and twisted.”

“I sort of like it.” The minute the words left her mouth, she slapped her hand over it, wishing she

could take them back.

His eyes widened the slightest bit. “You drunk, Will?”

She dropped her hand as she slowly shook her head.

“Exhausted? Not feeling right? I know I interrupted your nap earlier.”

“I feel perfectly rested.” Anxious and antsy for some naked man flesh, but she didn’t want to admit

that little tidbit.

“So what else could explain the sudden change in opinion? One minute I’m lower than the shit on

the bottom of your shoe and the next you’re ready to get it on like Donkey Kong.” He shook his head

with a chuckle. “You make no damn sense, woman.”

“Stop trying to figure me out and come here.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her house,

slamming the door and then pushing him up against it. Pinning him there in the foyer with her hands

pressed against his broad chest, she gave him a little shove. “I swear you’re twice the size you were

the last time we were together like this.”

“A man gets older, he gets a little bigger.” Nick shrugged, his head bent so he could meet her gaze.

“You are a complete contradiction, you know that?”

She licked her lips and drifted her hands down his front, pushing them up and under his sweater

with one quick movement, making connection with hard, bare skin. His lids fluttered at first contact,

and triumph surged through her.

“Your abs are inhuman,” she whispered, tracing the delineated muscles with her fingers. “Are you

even real?”

“I am one hundred percent real.” He reached beneath his sweater and grabbed hold of her wrists,

pulling them out. “If you can prove to me that you won’t kick me out after about ten minutes of teasing,

then I might let you get real up close and personal with my abs.”

She pouted, struggling against his hold. “Ten minutes? That’s a long time to have to wait.”

“It’ll be worth it, and you know it. The two of us naked, tangled in the sheets…we’re good

together.”

His words were like a bucket of ice dumped over her head. What was she doing? Nick was in her

house. Looking at her like he wanted to get her naked in two hot minutes. And those two minutes he

stripped her would undoubtedly be the hottest of her life.

Yeah. Scary. She was being ridiculous. She needed to get this man out of her house before she did

something really crazy.

Like jump him.

“You need to go.” She tugged out of his grip and stepped away from him. He was still leaning

against the wall, looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.

Awesome, because she was pretty sure she had lost her mind.

“What? You’re not acting like you.” He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tense. He was sexy

when he was frustrated. “All this push and pull is confusing as hell, Will.”

She ignored him. Refused to let that soulful tone get to her. He sounded totally perplexed, and it

was sort of cute. But she didn’t want cute. She wanted him gone.

“Tell me all about it. Thanks for a great date.” She smiled, waiting for him to get the hint and walk

out the door.

But he didn’t.

“Text me and let me know what the plans are for the next one,” she reminded him sweetly.

He cocked a brow at her, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and didn’t say a word.

“Are you being dense on purpose?” Her voice went shrill and rose a notch. God, she hated that. It

reminded her of her mother and how she used to rant about her dad—about any man in her life.

Not that she had a lot of memories about her mom. Their relationship had always been…distant.

And that was putting it politely.

“I sort of like it when you insult me,” he said, his voice that smooth, honey drawl that always got to

her, no matter how much she tried to fight it. “Makes me think you just might care.”

“Argh!” She marched straight toward him and grabbed the door handle, trying to nudge him away

with a push of her shoulder, but that was like trying to move a brick wall. “Move.”

He gazed down at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You gotta say the magic word.”

“Move now.” Her voice dropped to its deadliest.

“You don’t scare me.” Nick reached out and touched her cheek, his fingers drifting across her skin.

“You think I don’t remember how defensive you get when you’re nervous? I get it, darlin’. I really

do.”

She stood there glaring at him. So close she could feel his body heat, his warm breath fluttering

across her cheek. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I do.” He bent his head, his mouth right at her ear, low and husky and deliciously sexy. “Better

than you think.”

He reached out and settled his hand over hers, where it rested on the door handle and she gave a

little mutter of surprise, slipping her hand away. With a smile curving those too-tempting lips, he

pushed off from the door, opened it, and walked out without another word, closing it behind him.

She collapsed on the couch and leaned back against it, resting her hand over her chest. The man

was trying to kill her. Give her a heart attack. If it was her time to go, the least she deserved was an

amazing orgasm. And he hadn’t even delivered that, the jackass.

Men. They were all the same.

…

Plenty of women were flat out crazy. Nick knew this, had encountered lots of psycho chicks since he

became a superstar on his high school football team. They came with the territory and where once

he’d been overwhelmed and unsure how to handle them, now for the most part he brushed them off

and went on his way.

He knew for a fact Willow wasn’t a psycho chick. But tonight, for whatever reason, she’d done a

complete one-eighty and was acting like…

A nut job. A sexy as hell nut job but damn, she was making his head spin.

It’s why he had to leave. If he’d stayed in her house, with her so close to him he could smell her for

just a minute longer, he might’ve done something he regretted.

Like get Willow naked, fuck her senseless, then eventually deal with the guilt and the ranting tirade

from her. She’d get him for breaking the agreement or some such shit and then he’d have to give up

this entire plan.

So he walked. It took all the strength he had inside him to go but, yep, he’d walked right out of her

house after she’d kissed him. Hell, she basically implied she’d let him do anything he wanted to her.

And he still left.

He strode out to his car and hit the keyless remote, throwing himself into the driver’s seat like a

man hell-bent on escape. For once he wished his new car had the standard key in the ignition versus

the push button start. It would’ve felt real good, twisting that key so hard the engine would roar to life,

the sound blocking out all his troubles.

Instead he started the car like a wimp, pushing the button with his index finger, throwing the car out

of park and pulling away from the curb.

Fuck a duck, he needed to buy a vintage car with a V-8 engine and a badass paint job, just so he

could have a vehicle that made him feel like a man when he drove it.

What the hell did you do? Hand that woman your balls when you raced out of her house with

your tail between your legs?

Nick shoved the shitty thought out of his head and hit a speed dial button on the screen in his car’s

dashboard. The phone rang and rang until Jared finally answered.

“It is way too late for your bullshit,” Jared muttered in greeting, his voice filling the interior of the

car.

“Nice to talk to you too.” Nick sighed and swiped a hand over his face. Thank God for Bluetooth.

“I need your advice.”

“What?”

Nick ignored his question. “How do I make a woman like me?”

“Are you serious?” Jared burst out laughing. “I thought all the women were wanting you now that

I’m off the market.”

“Arrogant ass.” Nick chuckled. “I’m talking about one woman in particular. We went out on a date

and she kicked me out of her house.”

“Okay,” Jared said slowly. “I’m guessing you’re talking about Willow? The woman you should

avoid like the plague, since she essentially hates your guts? I think you should be glad she kicked you

out.”

“Yep. Willow. And there’s no way I can avoid her. It’s too late. I gotta have her.” He should’ve

never called his friend. Then Jared would tell Sheridan and Sheridan would tell Willow and he’d be

in a world of hurt.

With the way his cock still throbbed beneath his fly, maybe it didn’t matter. He was in a world of

hurt regardless.

“I told you she needed to get laid,” Jared said, sounding exasperated. “Why didn’t you use some of

that Hamilton charm and get her into bed?”

Willow isn’t like other women. She doesn’t fall for the charm, the drawl, the swagger. It doesn’t

matter how badly I want her.

She doesn’t want me back.

Nick could hear rustling, a soft feminine murmur in the background before the phone was quite

clearly taken out of Jared’s hand and Sheridan’s voice came over the speaker. “Just keep doing what

you’re doing, Nick.”

“You aren’t supposed to know any of this. You’ll just tell her I called.” Misery coursed through

him. He couldn’t get this right with Willow no matter how hard he tried. He was sweet to her, and she

wanted to kick his ass. He was rude to her, and she wanted to kick his ass. The woman had him

coming and going, and he never knew where he was supposed to be next.

It was frustrating as all get out.

“I won’t tell her. I promise! I’m on your side,” Sheridan said firmly. “This thing with Willow, you

need to take it slow. You need to woo her.”

“Are you serious?” He remembered how it had been with Willow the first time around. Hot and

passionate and sexy and spontaneous. He’d never wooed her once. Just kissed her, slipped his hand

into her panties, and bingo. They were going at it, no problem.

But they were younger then. Things change. Needs change. More than anything, he wanted to be

exactly what Willow needed.

“Dead serious,” Sheridan said firmly. “You can do this, Hamilton. I believe in you.”

“You do?” he asked weakly.

“Definitely. I believe in you, I believe in Willow, and I really, really believe the two of you will

make a great couple. Just…don’t rush her. If she rushes you, it’s just her way of proving, that, hey,

look! All he wants from me is an easy lay. I mean nothing to him,” Sheridan explained. “Prove her

wrong. Show her you want more than that.”

“I do want more than that,” he said firmly, hope rising within him. Damn, Sheridan was pretty good

with the inspirational speech. He wondered if Jared gave her pointers.

“Good. I figured you did. Trust me, I understand her. She needs a man as strong as she is. All those

wimpy guys she dated in the past, they weren’t worthy of her,” Sheridan said.

He couldn’t stand the thought of Willow with any dude, wimpy or not. “You’re damn right they

weren’t.”

Sheridan actually giggled. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. And know that I’m in your corner,

cheering you on.”

“Hey Sheridan?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell your man he’s a lucky bastard.” Sheridan burst into laughter and Nick joined in with her.

“And thank you.”

“Any time.”

Chapter Six

“It looks fabulous, Willow. I can’t believe how much you’ve done in such a short amount of time.”

Sheridan glanced around the big room, surprise written all over her face. “I bet you’re so excited to

start actually packaging everything in here. I know it’s been a pain, trying to manage your business in

your house. Now you have so much space.”

Willow nodded enthusiastically, running her hand along one of the giant supply tables she’d

recently had delivered. “I’m beyond excited. Tomorrow we start production. This weekend has been

insane. Did I tell you? I worked a bachelorette party last night that was held in a suite at the Plaza,

and I made what felt like a bazillion cotton candy cocktails. I have never seen so many crazed drunk

women in one small room in all my life.”

It had been fun. So many women had asked for her business card, she’d almost run out. Her father

had just asked her when she talked to him on the phone earlier this morning why she was the one who

made the drinks. Couldn’t any old bartender do the same thing she was doing?

His words had felt like a personal insult. No. Not any old bartender could do what she did. She not

only made the cotton candy from scratch, she made the drinks too. The business was hers. All hers.

Besides, she didn’t have the money to hire out a huge staff to help her.

Yet.

Sheridan laughed. “Sounds like fun. What else did you do?”

“Did set-up in here all weekend.” True. Brought a little TV with her too so she could watch the

Hawks game. They won. Nick scored one touchdown and almost made a second when someone from

the opposing team shoved him, and he stepped out of bounds. He’d been angry. She saw it written all

over his gorgeous face.

She’d watched him play in awe, forgetting all about the job she needed to do.

Like, you know, set up her business. Organize her entire future.

“It’s going to be so amazing. Have you thought of opening up the storefront as a venue on the

weekends or maybe after hours? You can make it a small space for people to reserve for parties

featuring your specialty cocktails. Maybe you can work with another catering company and have them

bring horse d’oeuvres and stuff.” Sheridan clapped her hands together. “We need to schedule another

girls night out at my studio! You can provide the cocktails, pass out business cards with the new

address. Oh, that would be a great way for you to get new people over here.”

Sheridan ran classes and parties in her art studio, teaching people of all ages how to paint. Her

class schedules had turned into an anticipated event when she announced them every month. She tried

to hold a monthly girls night out, and Willow always provided her cotton candy signature cocktail.

Willow had thought about offering to work another girls night, but never felt right in out and out

asking her friend. She knew Sheridan had a lot on her plate, especially lately, what with being newly

married to a high profile football star.

She could almost relate, though her relationship with Nick was a little tricky. As in, they really

didn’t have a relationship beyond seven more dates, the potential for a lot of arguing, and the

delicious possibility of orgasms.

“I’d love to know what’s running through your mind at this very moment. You have a dreamy sort of

look on your face,” Sheridan said, knocking Willow from her thoughts.

“Please.” Willow waved her hand, dismissing her friend’s statement. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Looked like something special to me. Or someone.” Sheridan went to

the big window that faced the parking lot of the shopping center, her back to Willow. “Have you seen

Nick lately?”

Yes, I had him pinned against my door, kissing him before I kicked him, out and he left me a

shaky, out-of-breath mess. Why do you ask?

“Beyond our first date, no,” Willow said carefully. “He’s been sort of busy, what with that game he

just played earlier today.” It was late Sunday afternoon and they were playing out of town. How in the

world could she have seen Nick lately?

“You never did tell me how that went. Did he take you to Jared’s favorite pizza place?”

“Um, he did.” She’d wondered if that had been a crock of shit but looked like Nick had been telling

the truth.

Why did she always doubt him?

“I love that restaurant. It’s so quaint and intimate.” Sheridan turned to face her. “Have you two

fallen back into bed yet?”

“What? Sheridan, of course not.” If her friend kept drilling her, she would confess that no, they

hadn’t but wow, she really wished they had. And making that sort of confession was a bad thing. Then

she would have to face the barrage of questions, and she wasn’t sure if she was up to it. If she’d ever

be up to it.

“Come on, you can tell me. You seem pretty relaxed today. Last time I saw you, you were wound up

tight.” Sheridan flashed her a knowing smile.

Willow clenched her teeth. Why did everyone think she was such a tense wreck? She’d been busy,

yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m good. Really. Everything’s much better now that I have this

place, and I know I can move forward with my plans. So much of my tension has been wrapped up in

the unknown fate of my business, you know?”

“Sure.” Sheridan nodded. She didn’t look like she believed Willow whatsoever. “I bet some good

sex helped too, right?”

“We didn’t have sex.” Willow hissed the last word. And she wasn’t lying. They didn’t have sex.

“Stop, okay?”

“Whoa, defensive.” Sheridan held her hands up in front of her. “Don’t need to take all your

aggression out on me.”

Willow parted her lips, ready to dump everything that had happened on her friend so she could shut

her up, when her cell rang. Racing for it over on one of the side tables, she answered, not recognizing

the phone number. “Hello.”

“Is this Sweet Treats?”

Crap. It was Sunday—she didn’t expect a business call. First thing on her list tomorrow: get a

business phone line.

“Yes, this is Sweet Treats. How may I help you?” She put on her best professional voice, earning a

big smile from her friend for her efforts.

“My daughter is having a bachelorette party in December in Las Vegas,” the man started. “And I

was wondering if you were available.”

Willow ran to her desk and sat behind it, flipping through her schedule book until she came to

December. “What date did you have in mind? I’m pretty booked through the month, what with the

holidays and all.”

“The twenty-first, but we’ll need you there the entire weekend, if we can get you. It’s going to be a

big party.” He paused. “Huge.”

Her mind racing, she saw she had a birthday party already scheduled on the afternoon of the twenty-

first and a holiday open house that evening. Not to mention the corporate event on the twentieth and

another party on the twenty-second. But she could have her two new employees help handle it. By

then, she could also hire more employees to help cover everything. “Um, how big are we talking?”

She wanted to make sure it would be worth her while.

“Five hundred people, give or take?”

She swallowed hard. “Wow, you weren’t lying when you said huge.”

He chuckled. “My daughter knows a lot of people. So do I.”

“Well, that sounds amazing. Would you like to come to my office and meet sometime this week so

we could discuss the matter further?” She smiled when Sheridan gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Absolutely. That sounds perfect,” the man said warmly.

“Your name, sir?” She grabbed a pen. “And what day would you like to meet?”

“Are you open tomorrow morning?”

“Uhh…” She glanced around the room. It may have looked a thousand times better than it did a few

days ago, but it was still somewhat of a mess.

“I’m going out of the country on Tuesday and I’ll be gone for two weeks,” he added.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect but if we could make it for the afternoon?” She could scramble and

straighten this place up more for her appointment between now and tomorrow morning. She might

collapse from exhaustion but she could do it.

Never mind her date with Nick tomorrow night. Maybe he could take her to a movie and she could

nap through the whole thing…

“Absolutely. Oh, and my name is Phil Whitmore.”

Oh. Shit.

She knew Phillip Whitmore. Well, more like she knew of him. She’d gone to high school with his

daughter, though the girl was two years younger. A spoiled little princess who got whatever she

wanted, Amanda Whitmore was a real piece of work.

The Whitmores were a big deal in the community. As in, they had a tremendous amount of money

and were big philanthropists. Doing a party for the Whitmore family could make a difference in her

business for the next year. The access to contacts and referrals alone could be nothing short of

amazing.

“Does two o’clock sound good to you, Mr. Whitmore?” She gave him the address to her new

location, and he said he’d use GPS to find it.

“Sounds perfect. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, Willow.”

It wasn’t until at least fifteen minutes later she realized he knew her name—and she’d never said it

once. Was he a friend of her dad’s? Or did he just know who she was? The town was pretty small,

after all…

Could her father have directed Phil Whitmore to her business out of some sort of sympathy deal?

She liked how he stayed out of her business beyond the occasional, “let me give you lots of money so

you never have to worry again” offer. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry. Her father

wanted the best for her but sometimes, he tried to manage her life a little too closely.

And she didn’t like it.

…

“You were outrageous on the field today.” Jared clapped Nick on the back as he walked by.

“Right back at ya,” Nick tossed over his shoulder, slamming his locker extra hard. The rattling

sound did nothing to soothe his agitated nerves. Not that he thought it would. He’d been stomping

around the entire weekend, amped up over his night with Willow. Taking all of his sexual frustration

out on the field. On the ball, on other players, on the fans…everyone.

He’d even yelled at his mama when she called first thing this morning to wish him good luck at the

game. After giving him a good scolding, she’d hung up on him and he’d promptly received a call from

his dad about good manners and how he should always treat a lady—specifically his mother—like a

queen.

Nick called her right back and apologized. Then continued to ponder for a good part of the morning,

reimagining his night with Willow. Instead of him walking out on her, in his imagination, he took it

much further.

Dragging her back to her bedroom and pushing her onto the bed. She’d lie in the middle of the

mattress, watching him with those hot dark eyes as he quickly undressed. Then he would climb on top

of her, kiss her everywhere, and proceed to drive her out of her ever lovin’ mind with lust until

finally, finally he would…

“Are you all right? You’ve been acting all day like your ass is on fire and someone is chasing it.”

Nick glanced to his right to find his coach standing there, a grim expression on his face. Just great.

“Isn’t that what you want? Me running like my ass is on fire?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. You were working the Hamilton ball-handling magic hardcore on the

field today. But you’re also acting all down and out off the field and that’s not like you. You’re our

go-to guy. The cheerful one,” Walsh explained.

“Sometimes even the cheerful one has a bad day, right?” He had no idea these high expectations

were piled on top of him. He’d just always…been himself. Now he was feeling out of sorts and

everyone freaking noticed.

“Not you, Nick. Never you.” Walsh shook his head. “Even when you’re having a shit day, you’re

always pretty damn cheerful. So I’m wondering if something is going on. Your family doing okay?

Got some personal problems that are messing with your head?”

“Christ, no.” Like he’d tell Walsh. Like he’d tell anyone his “trouble” with Willow. How would he

explain it without the entire scenario sounding sleazy?

I bribed my ex to go on pretend dates with me and I’m not pretending. I want her. I need her…

One freaking date and he was in too deep. She was driving him nuts.

He remembered Sheridan’s speech, how she told him the way he was treating Willow was exactly

what she needed.

Not so sure about that right now…

“So nothing bothering you?” Walsh peered at him, his bushy brows drawn together, checking Nick

out like he was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“Leave him alone, Walsh.” Jared appeared out of nowhere, an easy smile on his face. “Maybe he’s

just having an off day. We’re all allowed to have them on occasion, right?”

“Right, right.” Walsh nodded, looking from Nick to Jared and back to Nick again. “We need you on

your toes, Hamilton. The season’s down to the wire and the last thing I want to see is you spiraling

out of control over some girl or whatever else has got you twisted into knots.”

Nick frowned. How the hell did Walsh figure he had girl problems?

Jared remained silent until Walsh walked away, then gave Nick the side eye. “What the hell is your

problem anyway? I know you’re all wound up over Willow, but it’s putting a serious damper on your

mood. You’re stalking around here like an agitated bear, growling at everyone who gets in your way.

And if you’re not growling, you look like a sad sack who just found out your best girl just stomped all

over your pitiful heart.”

His friend was cutting way too close to the truth. “Am I really that obvious?” Nick scrubbed his

face with his hand. Women. They would be the absolute death of him.

“I knew it had something to do with a certain dark-haired pretty lady with a penchant for sarcasm.”

Jared laughed when he caught sight of Nick’s murderous glare. “Am I right or what?”

“Damn it, I don’t want to talk about her.” The locker room was emptying out but the guys still loved

nothing more than to listen in on other people’s conversations. He didn’t want anyone to hear what

went down between him and Willow. Not only was it nobody’s business, but hell. He’d already said

enough to his best friend about what happened. And he definitely didn’t want to relive the

embarrassing and fucked-up scenario yet again.

He still couldn’t believe how aroused Willow became when he treated her like crap. Giving her a

taste of her own medicine seemed to do it for her. Which was weird.

And sorta hot.

“When do you plan on seeing her next?” Jared asked, his face a perfect mask of innocence.

Which was utter crap, considering his friend knew the dirty details regarding his and Willow’s

dates. “Tomorrow night.”

“You finally going to get her naked or what? I bet that’ll ease your grouchiness. Damn, the both of

you now need to get laid.” Jared cocked a brow.

“Shut the fuck up.” Nick started for the door but Jared grabbed him before he could leave.

“Listen, I know you like Willow, and I get it. She’s hot, she’s smart, and she acts like she doesn’t

give a shit half the time. I know a lot of men like that sort of thing. But if this is how you’re going to

act the entire time you’re going on these dates with her? Dude, you need to break it off and quick.

She’s not good for you.” The look on Jared’s face practically dared him to argue.

And his best friend’s opinion about the situation with Willow was way different than Sheridan’s.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like her. You’ve never liked her.” Damn, was she

fucking with his head so much she made him behave like a completely different person? If so, that

sucked. He’d always stayed true to himself. When he went back home—wasn’t often but he tried as

best as he could—all of his old friends and the people he’d known growing up said the same thing.

He’d hardly changed, was still the same friendly, charming good ol’ boy Nick Hamilton.

One date with Willow Cavanaugh and he’d become a sad jackass? Why the hell did everyone think

he was so cheerful and happy and charming with the exception of Willow? She infuriated him. She

was the only one who brought out the jackass in him.

Damn it, he wanted to dazzle and impress her. Make her fall for him all over again, and instead she

brought out Nick the Caveman—the one who should bang his head against the cave wall for being

such a complete asshole.

She challenged the hell out of him. Would it be wrong to admit he sort of liked it? In a sick, twisted

way?

Yeah. Weird. Fucked up. Crazy. All of the above.

“Hey, she was the one who didn’t like me when Sheridan and I first got married. She’s still wary of

me and you know what? I can’t blame her.” Jared shook his head. “So I understand where she’s

coming from. What I don’t understand is after pining for her for months, you get one date in and now

you’re acting like someone came along and killed your new pet puppy.”

Nick glanced around. The locker room was almost empty, only a few guys still in there, and he took

a deep breath. Decided to tell his friend what was really going on. “Fine. You nailed it on the head.

So did Walsh. I’m frustrated as hell and I don’t know how to deal with it. Deal with her. It’s like she

wants the fight.”

Jared nodded, his expression easing. “Now we’re talking. So she’s frustrating the hell out of you;

why am I not surprised? Let me ask you this—I’m guessing you always get what you want when it

comes to women, correct?”

“Absolutely.”

“And for once in your life, you’ve actually met up with a challenge.”

“Willow is by far the most challenging person I’ve ever dealt with,” Nick agreed wholeheartedly—

though he was the one who walked away last time. He had no one to blame but himself for that one.

“Have you ever thought maybe it’s because you’re chasing too hard?”

Nick frowned. “Come again?”

“Hey, we don’t have to chase, you know what I mean? They usually come to us.”

“Uh…”

“Just agree with me,” Jared urged.

“All right.” Where the hell was he going with this?

“She knows you want her, right?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, she knows.” She beyond knew. He’d made his intentions more than clear. Hell, he’d stated

them outright…

And now Jared was telling him he probably made a crucial mistake. Great.

“Now she has the upper hand. You gave it to her on a silver platter. She knows no matter what,

you’re going to keep on chasing. Am I right?”

“I…” Hell. He hated to admit it, but yes. He wanted to chase her. Wanted to keep on chasing her

until he wore the woman out and she caved in because she had nowhere else to go.

Now that he thought about it, he realized that was all sorts of fucked up.

“You need to stop chasing. Let her come to you,” Jared suggested. His advice was pretty much the

complete opposite of his wife’s.

Talk about confusing.

Nick snorted. “You know, I did throw down a bit of a challenge last night, and it seemed to work.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jared asked expectantly.

“Yeah, I had to get all mean on her before she turned me into a complete pussy,” Nick muttered,

scrubbing his palm along his jaw.

“Perfect. See? You need to switch it up. Make her work for it, my friend. Make her work for you. If

this woman is really worth it, she’ll come chasing after you no matter what.” Jared said this with

absolute authority.

Nick wished he felt as confident as Jared sounded. “What if she doesn’t come chasing me?”

“Then she wasn’t worth it, was she?”

Well, didn’t Jared make it sound so easy? “Easier said than done,” Nick said. That was his biggest

fear, that they’d come to realize neither of them was worth it to the other. What they shared could end

up as a whole lot of nothing. “I’d have to be a dead man to stop chasing her, Jared.”

Jared laughed and Nick sent him a withering stare, shutting him up.

“I mean it. But you know, I can definitely make her think I’ve stopped chasing her for a little while

and see if she lowers her guard.”

“Now you’re talking,” Jared said with a nod.

Nick frowned. What if this stupid plan didn’t work? Damn it, he really wanted to land Willow in

his bed. Over and over again. Just to prove to her that they were good together. But could she stand

being in a real relationship with him? What he did for a living was rough on relationships. He was

always gone.

Always. And she’d hate that. Resent it. Resent him.

The last thing he wanted was for Willow to hate him.

Again.

Chapter Seven

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Mr. Whitmore,” Willow greeted warmly the moment he stepped into

Sweet Treats, his daughter at his side.

Great. She knew Amanda would recognize her from school. Not that they’d shared the same friends,

what with their age difference, but Carmel High School wasn’t that big. Amanda would know who

she was. Plus, everyone knew Willow’s father…

“Aren’t you Willow Cavanaugh?” Amanda asked in a high-pitched voice, her gaze narrowed.

Willow offered her a bland smile. “I am.”

“What are you doing working a cheesy little set-up like this when your father represents half of the

Monterey Bay?” Amanda sneered.

“Mandy, please,” Phil Whitmore chastised before turning to Willow. “And it’s a lovely little set-up

you have here, Miss Cavanaugh.”

“Thank you. Won’t you please sit down?” She escorted them to her desk, her blood boiling in her

veins at what Amanda said. God, she’d already faced this sort of problem before but on a much

smaller scale. She was an idiot to forget the fact that Phillip Whitmore and Walter Cavanaugh

definitely moved in the same social circles.

They’d all wonder what the heck Willow was doing, trying to grow her own business when in their

eyes, she didn’t need to.

Once they were settled in their seats, Phil launched into a detailed explanation, talking so quickly

his daughter couldn’t get a word in. Weird, considering in these types of situations normally it was the

mother who helped organize a bridal shower. At the very least, the maid of honor and the bridesmaids

were the ones she met up with to discuss bachelorette party details.

But the bride and her father planning a Vegas bachelorette party together? That was a first.

“The main reason we’re having such a large party for Mandy is because she’s launching a new

business,” Phil said excitedly. “And we are inviting every female we know in the Monterey and

Carmel area to come for the weekend. We’ll host a fabulous party, offer them swag bags and

hopefully, have completed a lot of orders by Sunday afternoon.”

Mandy rolled her eyes and smoothed her bright blond hair back from her face, her gigantic diamond

ring catching the light and nearly blinding Willow. “So cheesy,” she murmured.

Phil glared at his daughter. “We’ll see what you’re saying when the business truly starts gaining

speed after your party.”

“May I ask what sort of product you’re selling?” Willow tapped away at her iPad, taking copious

notes. This wasn’t so much a celebration of Amanda’s impending marriage. More like an executive

business decision—a party they could write off as an expense.

Funny how Amanda was giving her nothing but grief when she was doing the very thing she’d

hassled Willow over—starting a business on her own.

“Hair extensions,” Amanda said with a heavy sigh.

Willow paused her fingers above the keyboard, flicking her gaze up to watch the Whitmores

carefully. “Extensions?”

Phil nodded. “They’re the latest craze, you know.”

“More like the latest craze three years ago,” Amanda retorted, her voice rising. Okay…clearly

there was some tension between them.

“As if you understand the current market. Your personal experience is with expensive extensions

that cost what the average person makes in a year and they only last three months.” Phil waved his

hand, shooting a smile in Willow’s direction. “We’re trying to sell quality extensions that any woman

can afford.”

Willow hated to even think it, but she had to agree with Amanda. There were so many other

inexpensive hair extensions out there, why would they want to launch yet another one? They’d most

likely get lost in the gigantic sea of brands already available on the market. “Sounds wonderful,” she

said with a fake smile. She needed to steer them back to the matter at hand, not let them continue

arguing. “So you’re serious when you say five hundred people will be in attendance?”

“I certainly hope so,” he boomed, looking affronted. “The guest list has been cultivated, and

invitations will be sent out soon. I wanted to confirm your participation first, though. I’d like you to

create a signature drink for Mandy’s new business venture.”

“All right. What were you thinking?” Shit. They’d probably want to name it something stupid, too.

“Something similar to the cotton candy cocktail you serve currently but with a little more edge. I

was thinking of calling it…” Phil grinned. “Hair on the dog. Or maybe…hair on the head. You know,

a play on words and all that?”

“Daddy, that sucks so bad, I can’t believe you said it.” Amanda rolled her eyes again, which helped

them launch into another argument.

Willow waited patiently, checking her email real quick on her iPad, letting them hammer out the

angry details amongst themselves. Maybe she’d been too quick to agree to do this party. The potential

for future clientele was enormous but at what price? She could already tell Phil Whitmore might be a

bit of a handful. Not to mention his bitchy, confrontational daughter.

At least her own dad didn’t push this hard and take over her business. She got tired of his constant,

let me give you money, make sure you’re making the right decisions speeches, but at least he didn’t

push himself on her.

“May I ask you a question, Mr. Whitmore?” Willow asked once they’d stopped squabbling.

“By all means.” He beamed at her, looking quite pleased with himself.

“How exactly did you find out about my business?” She offered him a serene smile, her curiosity

growing with every increasingly uncomfortable moment as he squirmed in his seat.

“Um…” His voice trailed off. “Saw you on the Internet.”

“Give me a break.” More eye rolling from Amanda. They’d fall right out of her head if she didn’t

watch it. “Your dad talked to my dad. Thought it would be fun to keep us both entertained with our

businesses and all, right Daddy?”

Willow immediately saw red. No way would she allow herself to be compared to this dumb girl

and her playing pretend with a business she didn’t even believe in. Sweet Treats was nothing like

whatever the hell they were calling Mandy’s hair extensions business.

“That isn’t how it happened at all,” Phil whispered harshly. “You need to learn when to keep your

mouth shut.”

“No really, I appreciate Mandy’s honesty.” Willow set the iPad on her desk and clasped her hands

together. “Nice to know my father thinks it’s so cute that I’m playing with my business like a game of

Monopoly.”

“Now Willow…”

“Oh Daddy, stop. I think you’ve stepped in it enough.” Good ol’ Mandy actually shot her a

sympathetic glance. “We need to get going, but are we definitely confirmed for the weekend of

December twentieth through the twenty-second? We plan on having a meet and greet on Friday night

and would love it if you worked that event as well.”

Willow nodded, making more notes. Funny how Amanda could be serious when she wanted to be.

“Can I send you a contract agreement to the email address you provided?”

“Sounds great.” Amanda stood, her father following her lead. “I’ll call you next week, and we can

make firmer arrangements. Perhaps we can meet again and plan the logistics of the weekend?”

“Sounds fabulous. Thanks so much.” After shaking their hands, Willow watched them leave,

curious as to the dynamics of the family. How they just behaved made no damn sense, but who was

she to judge? She had her own warped relationship with her father. As a matter of fact…

Whipping out her cell phone, she hit speed dial and waited for him to pick up. The moment his

smooth voice sounded over the line, she exploded. “How dare you go out and solicit business for me

from freaking Phillip Whitmore and his bitchy daughter!”

“Whoa there, wait a second. You’d think my daughter would be happy I’m sending business her

way.” Walter chuckled, like he had no idea how mad he’d just made her.

“I told you I wanted to try and make it on my own, not count on you to send your business contacts

my way.” She blew out a harsh breath, knowing she sounded like an ungrateful bitch. Worse, she

sounded just like Amanda Whitmore.

That was the slap of reality she needed. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just sensitive about everything right

now. I’ve gotten this far without your help and the minute I move into a store front, you’re sending

customers my way as if you’re afraid I might not make my rent payments.” Whipping off her black-

framed glasses that she didn’t even need to wear, she wearily rubbed the bridge of her nose and

closed her eyes.

“I didn’t send Phil to you because I’m afraid your customer base might dry up. I sent Phil because

I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” her dad explained. “You’ve come so far in such a short amount of

time, and I want you to be a huge hit. I knew Phil’s party for his daughter’s silly new business would

bring you a lot of attention—and business. That’s why I did it.”

Her heart softened and she opened her eyes, leaned back in her chair. His words warmed her heart,

as much as she hated to admit it. It was the respect, the gratification she’d been looking for from him

for…years. Her father had always been there for her. Not her mother, never her mother, but she could

always count on her dad. “I appreciate the referral so much, Dad. I really do. Maybe next time you

could warn me though? His sudden call felt sort of out of left field.”

“We’ve been playing golf together for years. In fact, I was on the golf course with him when he

started talking about the hair extensions business he was funding for his daughter. He wants her to be

on her own when she gets married. Her fiancé is a deadbeat, according to Phil.”

“Really?” Oh, this was interesting.

“Doesn’t want to work, extremely lazy. Mandy’s always begging for money so Phil thought he’d

start a business for her, and she could take over. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a losing

venture. Not that he would listen to me anyway.” Her dad chuckled. “They’re calling it Wig It.”

Willow frowned. “But they’re selling extensions, not wigs.”

“I know.” Walter sighed. “Trust me, I know. The daughter wanted to call it Wig Out, but Phil said a

firm no on that suggestion.”

Willow started to laugh, the tension slowly easing out of her shoulders. “I hope you never looked at

my business like Phil Whitmore does for his daughter.”

“I’ll confess, at first I wondered if starting a cotton candy catering business was the right thing to

do. You do have to admit it sounds like a bit of a stretch. I was afraid you might be wasting your

time.” His voice softened. “But you’ve made such a go of it, never giving up on your dreams. I’m

proud of you, Willow. More than you’ll ever know.”

Hearing him say those words eased the tightness in her chest, the icy cold grip on her heart. Her

father believed in her. Was proud of her success. She never thought she would see this happen. That

she could actually do something on her own, without her father’s help. “Thanks Dad,” she said softly.

“I’m just following my dream.”

“Of making sure everyone eats more cotton candy?” She could hear the humor in his voice, and it

made her smile.

“No, that I can create something that belongs just to me. That I don’t need to stand in the shadow of

you or my mom or anyone else,” she answered.

“How is your mother?” He always asked. She rarely could give him an answer, since she didn’t

talk much to her mom.

“I have no idea.” And didn’t that hurt? Her mom thought she was wasting her time living in

Monterey. She’d begged Willow to come live with her in Europe when Willow had been a teen.

She’d wanted her to become a model and live in Paris, walk the catwalk and become some couture

designer’s muse.

Willow’d had no interest. Fashion was so not her thing and she heard horror stories of how the

girls were treated. Forget it. She’d rather make it on her smarts than her looks any day. She didn’t

want to be just another pretty face.

Though it never hurt to hear those sweet full-of-praise words Nick offered her so easily.

Frowning, she shoved him from her mind. Their forced date was scheduled for tonight, and she

hadn’t heard from him. Not even a simple text like he promised. Not that she wanted to focus on his

crappy treatment of her, what with everything going on with her business, but still. He wasn’t making

good on his promises.

And that irritated the life out of her.

“You should let her know about your latest success,” he encouraged. “I’m sure she’d be proud.”

Yeah, right. She so didn’t want to talk about her mom right now. “I’ll call her,” she promised

blithely, not meaning it whatsoever.

“Good. So you’re not mad at me for sending you potential clients? You know you’re going to make

a killing after you do the Whitmore party. The Wig It launch.” They both laughed.

“I hope so.” She paused. “But it’s right before Christmas.”

“What day exactly?” he asked.

She told him the dates, heard the disappointment in his voice. “I’m going to Aspen. I leave the

twentieth and won’t be back until just before the New Year. I’d hoped you could go with me.”

“That’s sweet, Dad, but there’s no way that’s possible.” Great, she was going to spend Christmas

all alone. Oh, she bet Sheridan would take her in, but did she want to hang out with the two lovebirds

and watch them slobber all over each other on Christmas Day?

Plus, it would only remind her of Nick. And how he really wasn’t hers and he was blackmailing her

to go on a string of dates with him. Which was freaking crazy if she thought about it for too long.

So she didn’t.

“We might be able to plan something.” Her dad sounded hopeful but she figured he was just saying

that for her benefit, to try to make her feel better.

“That would be nice.” They talked for a few minutes and then she hung up, feeling both happy and a

little sad. Happy her father was so proud of her. Sad that she might not be able to spend the holiday

with him, when she always did.

Huh. And irritated that Nick hadn’t called or texted her yet regarding their upcoming date. Odd. He

always made sure he contacted her when he said he would. She refused to text him first though. No

way did she want to give him the upper hand.

No way.

Chapter Eight

Nick smiled when his cell buzzed again. He knew who it was. And he wasn’t one to usually play

games but hell, he was perplexed as to how to go about this situation with Willow. Listening to Jared

had been the best advice he’d taken in a long while.

Grabbing his phone, he glanced at the screen.

Are we going out tonight or what?

He chuckled and shook his head. Her first text had asked if he was ignoring her. He’d replied with

a simple nope. Got a lot going on.

She clearly hadn’t appreciated that.

Not that he was lying. He’d been asked to come in and have a meeting with Harvey Price, the

Hawks’ lead publicist. If anything made him more nervous than dealing with an irritable Willow

Cavanaugh, it was dealing with a smooth-as-you-please Harvey Price.

The man, quite frankly, gave Nick the heebie-jeebies.

He sat in Harvey’s office waiting for him to show up, surprised no one else seemed to be around.

Usually at least one of the coaches liked to step in during these types of meetings, as a buffer more

than anything else.

Maybe he should text Willow back. She was probably furious. Deciding he’d better text her, he

grabbed his phone at the same time the door opened, revealing Harvey standing with a really pretty,

really young-looking woman.

Shoving his phone in his pocket, Nick stood, smiling at the both of them. “Harvey, tell me this pretty

young thing doesn’t have to work for you.”

She blushed and came toward him, her hand extended. “Hi, Nick. I’m Aubrey.”

“Well, hello there, Aubrey.” He flashed her a full wattage smile and shook her hand, amused by her

pink cheeks. She had long, dark red hair and golden brown eyes, a pert nose and a becoming smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nick.” Harvey’s voice was full of warning. “Aubrey is your new publicist. I’m handing you over

to her.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky? She sure is a lot prettier than you, Harvey.” He winked at Aubrey and she

flashed him a pretty smile in return.

Damn, his charm seemed to work on this woman. So why wouldn’t it work on Willow? He didn’t

get it. Why the hell did everything go south when he got into the vicinity of the woman he wanted more

than anyone else?

Pushing all thoughts of Willow out of his head, he turned to Harvey. “So why you giving me away,

Harv? I thought I was your favorite player.”

Harvey rolled his eyes and gestured for them all to sit. “We recently hired Aubrey to take care of

some of the players, and I thought you and she would be a good match.”

“Watch out, darlin’. I just might blow your mind when you watch me play out on the field,” he

drawled. Well hell, why did he go and say that? It was like he couldn’t help himself. Not that he was

interested. His brain and body were tuned into all Willow, all the time.

Aubrey sat across from him. Her cheeks were still a faint pink when she met his gaze, though her

expression was all business. “I was given fair warning about you and your lethal charm.”

He grinned.

“You need to know I’m completely immune to it,” she said primly.

Yeah right. “What, are you a lesbian?”

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Harvey groaned. “Nice way to get a lawsuit smacked on you.”

“Please.” Aubrey waved a hand. “He’s a football player.”

She said it like he had some sort of serious disease. As if being a football player dismissed his

behavior.

Shrugging, feeling a little irritated—again—he looked to Harvey. “What? She seemed perfectly

responsive to my so-called lethal charm a few minutes ago. Now she’s denying it? And considering

she implied I’m lethal to women, I can only assume she must play for the other team.” Nick shrugged.

“Excuse him, please. He says these sorts of things to shock you,” Harvey murmured to Aubrey,

leaning in close to her.

“Hey, I can hear you,” he called, shaking his head.

“Your lethal charm combined with your newfound irritation is not quite the image we want for you,

Nick,” Harvey said, his voice smooth as silk as he settled back in his chair. He was good at his job

and could spin a positive story out of something most would consider beyond repair so well, every

single one of the Hawks players came out smelling like a rose, despite their original actions being far

from rose-like. Nick could certainly appreciate Harvey’s talents.

But he always found Harvey a bit sleazy. So if he could have a new, cute publicist instead of the

slick talking Price, he’d take her over him any day.

“Do I need an image redo?” Nick gripped the arms of the chair, mentally preparing for what they

might say. Damn it, one game where he played fantastically but had a shitty mood throughout and they

were ready to give him a makeover.

“Not necessarily. Though Walsh is worried if you continue along this vein, you might need a stern

talking-to.” Harvey grinned. “But I’ll hand that duty over to Aubrey here.”

Nick could only imagine the sweet-looking Aubrey giving him a “stern talking-to.” As in, he

couldn’t see her doing it whatsoever. “I’ll remember that.”

“I’m sure you will. Don’t give her a bunch of grief. You and Flynn Foley are her main clients right

now. I want her to be able to focus on you both without any distractions.” In other words, he needed

to keep his so-called attitude in check.

Nick withheld the groan that wanted to escape. Great, so she was handling Foley too? Not like Nick

was a total bad boy, but that goody-two-shoes would make him look like a complete ass no matter

what. Foley could do no wrong. Amongst the fans, amongst the media, hell amongst the entire team,

everyone loved Flynn Foley, the backup quarterback for Jared Quinn.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll both keep me on my toes.” She smiled at him reassuringly.

“So what’s going on with you, Nick? Why were you so cranky the last few days?” Harvey asked,

his voice full of overly warm concern.

Like he’d tell Harvey anything about his personal life. “Nothing major. Just having an off week, you

know?”

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone, know I’m always here for you,” Harvey continued. “Perhaps

playoff pressure is getting to you a little bit? Is that the problem?”

That hadn’t fazed him in the least. He lived for that sort of pressure on the field. Truly believed it

made him a better player. “I’m fine, Harv,” Nick said through gritted teeth.

“If you say so.” Harvey sent Aubrey a look. One that said he didn’t believe Nick. She sent him the

same look back.

Damn. Felt like everyone was conspiring against him.

“Listen, I gotta go.” He stood and turned to the door. “Gotta head back to Monterey for the night.

Have a few things I need to take care of.”

“You’ll be here for practice tomorrow, right?” Aubrey called after him.

He turned to find her standing in front of him. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Of course I will.”

She beamed. “Fantastic. There are a few things I wanted to discuss with you. Planning, strategy-

type things. Hopefully I can steal a few minutes of your time?”

“Sure,” he said warily. Seemed she wanted a piece of him, too. Everyone did lately.

And he was fast running out of pieces to give.

…

The text had come approximately thirty minutes ago, short and curt and to the point.

Better be ready. I’ll be at your house in an hour.

Those ten words had irritated the crap out of her. They also secretly aroused her. God, she was

hopeless, acting like a needy girlfriend, sending Nick texts asking him if they were on or not for

tonight. He’d brushed her off with a quick reply, hadn’t sent her any other sort of response until a few

hours later.

It was late, past eight o’clock, and she still supposedly had a half hour until he showed up. She’d

been tempted to tell him not to bother. Since he’d so effortlessly come back into her life, he’d chased

her. Flirted with her, drove her crazy with it, really. She’d secretly craved it and not so secretly

distrusted his behavior. Because it always came back to one question:

What did he want from her?

Now he acted as if he snapped his fingers, she’d come running. She wasn’t some sort of dog who

followed his every command. Damn it, she was an independent woman with a mind of her own.

A knock sounded, interrupting her thoughts. Her knees wobbly, she stood and rushed toward the

front door, then looked through the peephole. There stood Nick on her doorstep, glaring at the

peephole as if he knew she was spying on him.

She undid the lock and threw open the door, breathless at the sight of him. His hair was in complete

disarray, as if he’d run his fingers through it time and again. He wore a faded Hawks T-shirt and worn

jeans, and a glower on his face that said don’t fuck with me.

God, she really, really wanted to fuck with him. Well, more like fuck him.

Her cheeks hot, she glared. “I thought you had at least thirty minutes left before you’d finally show

up.”

“Surprise, I’m your early present.” He nodded toward the door. “Gonna let me in?”

She gripped the door handle tight. “I shouldn’t, what with your shitty attitude.”

“Don’t give me any grief, woman. I’m not in the mood. We having this date tonight or what?”

“You tell me. Do you have plans to take me somewhere?” Heat zinged through her body. They

needed to get out of her house. Before something dangerous happened.

Like the two of them falling into bed together. She’d changed clothes earlier, giving up on him even

showing, but here he was, and here she stood. Wearing yoga pants and ready for bed.

Bed. Gulp.

He contemplated her, his jaw hard, his mouth grim. “If I told you where I wanted to take you

tonight, I’m afraid you might slap my face.”

She went damp at his dark tone, his even darker stare. “Maybe I want you to take me there,” she

whispered.

Oh crap. After worrying about something dangerous happening, she went and said that. What the

hell was wrong with her?

Both brows went up as if he were surprised. Silly man. Didn’t he know how much she wanted him?

Though honestly, even she wasn’t sure how much she wanted him. Her feelings for Nick confused the

hell out of her. “Maybe you should hear where I’m talking about first before you jump to that

conclusion.”

“Go ahead then. Say it.” She practically dared him to.

“All righty then. I want to take you inside your house, into your bedroom.” He took a step closer to

her, his eyes never leaving her face. “Then I’m going to take off all your clothes until that pretty little

body of yours is naked. Just for me.”

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. Sounded good so far.

He advanced another step. “Then I’m going to strip off my clothes, because it’s not fair, spending

quality time together with only one of us being naked and all.” Another step, until he was so close, his

feet brushed against hers. “So once we’re both naked, I’m going to take you to your bed. Where I will

keep on taking. And taking. And taking.”

Willow gave a little nod when he paused. Wanting him to continue. Desperate for him to continue.

“And then?” she croaked.

He smiled—the first one she’d seen from him in a while. Even while watching him on TV playing

his game yesterday, he’d been so grim faced and determined through most of it. Enough for the

commentators to make constant remarks during the entire game, wondering at his somber, sad attitude.

“And then I’m going to give you multiple orgasms. So many you’re probably gonna beg me to stop.

Because they’ll end up taking you to another realm.”

She blinked—couldn’t find the strength to say a word, considering her head had just been wiped

clean of all brain cells by what he’d just said to her. The heated promise in Nick’s voice, his

smoldering gaze as he watched her… His eyes dropped to the door handle she gripped so tightly that

surely she was white-knuckling it.

“Shut the door, darlin’.” Without thought she did as he asked, letting out a gasp when he grabbed

hold of her hand and tugged, pulling her to him. “Come here.”

He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, causing her to collide into warm, solid

man. She pressed her hands against his chest, lifted her lids so she could meet his searing gaze. He

stared at her, his eyes dropping to her mouth for a long, lingering moment before he finally met her

gaze once more. “So we’re staying in tonight?” she asked weakly.

He grinned, his bright smile making her stomach flutter. “Definitely.”

“But this is only our second date,” she protested with a wince. She didn’t mean to complain. Damn

it, she shouldn’t complain. This was what she wanted. Forget worrying about looking too easy in his

eyes.

Too easy was how comfortable she felt with him. How good he looked, how forceful he was being.

Nick picked her up as if she weighed nothing, and she wrapped her legs around him, feeling the

hard ridge of his erection press against her. She circled her arms around his neck, burying her hands

in his hair and studying him as a gnawing hunger grew within her.

Just seeing him made her want him. Having him touch her, kiss her, talk to her, she wanted him.

Naked and beneath her. Over her. His mouth on hers, his hands everywhere…

“I want you,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t, considering you’re blackmailing me to go on these dates

with you, but I do.”

He tipped his head, nuzzled his nose against hers. It was so sweetly unexpected that all the breath

left her lungs in one shaky exhalation. “I know I’m not handling this in the most orthodox manner, but

fuck it. And your words are music to my ears, Will. You don’t know how good it is to hear that.”

Before she could say anything else, he kissed her. Crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue thrusting

deep, his moan ragged as he cupped her head and held her to him. She reveled in his kiss, his tongue

tangling with hers, his other hand gripping her butt as he carried her back to her room.

How he knew where her room was, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t question him, didn’t want to

as he took her back there and deposited her on the mattress. She landed with a bounce, staring up at

him, her breaths coming in rapid pants.

“Get undressed,” he growled, and she did without hesitation. He said he’d be the one who

undressed her but forget it. She was too anxious. She shed her hoodie, her yoga pants, peeled off her

socks, until she sat on the edge of her bed in just a plain white bra and panties. “Take it all off.”

“Why don’t you take it off for me?” she taunted, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs.

Fire lit his eyes as he bent over her, his big hands settling on her hips as he curled his fingers

around the thin fabric of her panties. Without a care, he tore them off her body, the flimsy cotton

turned to shreds by his hands, and a fresh surge of moisture flooded her sex.

“Want me to do the same to your bra?” He lifted a brow.

Oh, my God. He was acting like a completely different person. No more easygoing Nick. Now he

was growly, animalistic Nick. Tear her panties to bits and look at her like he wanted to eat her alive

Nick.

She liked it. Heaven help her, she fucking loved it.

“No,” she whispered as she reached behind her, undoing the clasp and ridding herself of her bra as

quickly as she could. She happened to really like that bra and didn’t want to see it destroyed. Even

though the way he did that was kinda hot…

“That’s more like it. Lay back down and spread your legs.” When she gaped, he nodded once. “Go

on. Show me what you got, Will.”

“You know exactly what I’ve got.” He’d seen it up close and personal long ago. Just thinking of

how they used to be together sent a fresh rush of longing through her.

“It’s been a while. Maybe I want to admire it. Like you’re a work of art hanging on a wall in the

middle of a museum.” He tilted his head, waved a finger at her. “Go on. Spread those pretty thighs.

Let me see.”

Willow leaned back on her elbows and slowly spread her legs, smiling faintly when he tipped his

head and blatantly stared at her. Oh God, it was such a turn on, putting herself on such obvious

display for him. He liked what he saw, she could see it in his expression, the way he licked his lips,

worked his jaw.

“Maybe you should take your clothes off too. You said you would,” she murmured.

“You’re right, I sure did.” He ripped his T-shirt off and let it fall from his fingers. His bare chest

gleamed in the dim light the single bedside lamp threw out, highlighting every dip and shadow. Seeing

the black tribal tattoo around his upper arm made her want to lick it. She wanted to lick every one of

his tattoos. His shoulders and pecs were broad, his stomach flat and rippled with muscle. A narrow

trail of dark hair led from his navel beneath his jeans, and she wanted to follow that path, knowing

exactly where it led.

To a most impressive package.

“Your jeans next.” She closed her legs, noted how his brows scrunched when she did so. “Come

on. I’m not sharing until you share.”

“Driving a hard bargain, are you?” Pleasure laced his deep voice as he kicked off his shoes and

then shed his jeans and underwear, leaving him standing at the foot of her bed magnificently naked.

Impressively erect.

Her mouth watered as memories flooded her. How good sex had always been between them. He’d

figured out rather quickly her every weak spot. How she loved it when he kissed her neck, her belly,

the inside of her thighs. He would kiss her for long, blissful hours, leaving her drunk on his taste, her

lips sore from his gentle assault. They’d spent almost every single day together that summer—at the

very least, the nights. Long, wicked nights naked in each other’s arms, making love until they fell into

an exhausted heap, tangled around each other.

She could have that now. Right now.

She wanted it. Was desperate for it, for him. Time supposedly helped moments fade into distant

memories. Yet she could recall every moment with Nick.

For once in her life, she wasn’t going to weigh the risk. She was going after what she wanted.

And what she wanted more than anything was Nick. Buried deep inside her, his fingers gripping her

hair, moaning her name in her ear as he came.

Oh yeah. She so wanted that.

Chapter Nine

Aw hell, she was gorgeous, her slender legs spread, thighs trembling, pretty pink goodness all on

display. He was hard as a rock, ready to jump her like a randy idiot, lacking finesse and whatever

else he needed to make her sigh and moan and fall apart beneath him.

No, more like he just wanted to ram inside her. Fuck her until he couldn’t see straight. Until he was

coming like a geyser and yelling like a man possessed, driving her into the bed with his every hard,

relentless thrust.

His cock twitched in anticipation.

“Come join me,” she whispered in the sultriest voice he’d ever heard. A young and sexy Willow

had nothing on a slightly older, even sexier Willow. Back when he’d first met her, she’d been eager

and a little shy and so fucking gorgeous it hurt to look at her. Oh, and always up for anything—and he

meant anything—he wanted to try. Experimental and giving and willing…so willing. Responsive.

Fucking so responsive.

“Nick.” That siren’s voice broke through his cloudy thoughts, and he climbed onto the bed, climbed

straight over her as she brought her legs together. His knees resting on either side of her hips, he

propped himself on his elbows and studied her, his face close to hers.

“You’re so hot.” She arched her back, her full breasts brushing against his chest, and he sucked in a

harsh breath.

“You’re the hot one, darlin’. All sexy and naked and practically begging me for it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t said a thing that could come close to begging.”

“Mmm, you don’t have to. I can see it in your eyes. The way you move your body. A wickedly

gorgeous body, too, I might add.” He pressed his cheek to hers and breathed deeply her intoxicating

scent. Damn, this woman twisted him all up inside. Drove him crazy, made him want her, and made

him want to push her away all at once.

A heady combination.

He rubbed his cock against her soft belly, wanting her to feel what she did to him. She sighed,

winding her arms around him, drifting her hands down his back, scraping her nails along his skin and

making him shiver.

Fuck, this felt so right, being in her arms, skin on skin, legs twined together. She lifted her hips and

bent her knees outward, sending him closer, and he closed his eyes tight, trying to keep his shit

together.

It would be so much easier, losing all control. But he wanted to make this last. The way the

woman’s moods changed on a dime, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity go the way of a quick lay,

over in minutes.

He had a sweet body to savor. A delicious mouth to kiss, pert nipples to suck, and soft, fragrant

skin to map with his lips and hands. Yeah, he had a lot to do and was more than ready for the task.

“I’d like you inside my body and soon, if you don’t mind,” she murmured, rubbing against him like

a cat. He liked how she just asked for it. No pretense, no bullshit. Just…let’s make this happen.

“I need a condom.” He started to get up. “Got one in my jeans.” Had an entire box in his car, but he

didn’t need to mention that at the moment.

“Wait.” She gripped his arms, stopping him from leaving her. “I have some in my bedside table.”

She traced the tattoo on his arm with her index finger, her gentle touch making him shiver.

Grinning, he bent to give her a wet, tongue-thrusting kiss. “Perfect.” He reached over and opened

the drawer, searching around until he found a foil packet, then waved it in front of her. “Put it on me.”

She arched a brow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I wanna feel those hands of yours touch me.” Nick pulled away from her and got on his

knees, watched as she moved deftly into position and crouched before him. Her breasts bounced with

the movement, pretty pink nipples just begging to be pinched and sucked, and he reached out, caressed

them with the tips of his fingers. She quivered when he circled her nipples with his index fingers.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one who touched you,” she said shakily.

“Sorry.” He snatched his hands away from her too tempting breasts. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Smirking, she set the foil package on the bed beside her, her gaze dropping to his insistent cock.

Damn, he wanted inside her bad, but he needed to wait. Had to.

Though hell, if he had to wait another minute, he might explode.

She touched him, her fingers feather light as they grazed his cock, nearly making his eyes cross. He

tilted his head back on a groan when she gripped him, stroked him from root to tip in one long,

sweeping motion. Her thumb slid over his tip, circling him. Teasing him.

Nick glanced down, watched her slender hand stroke him straight into oblivion. And then she was

bending over him, her hair falling all around his lap as she licked the very tip of his erection, a wet

and warm tease that had him hissing in a breath just before she completely enveloped him in that hot,

tight mouth of hers.

“Holy fuck,” he moaned, thrusting his fingers in her thick hair so he could push it out of the way. He

wanted to watch, he wanted to see this beautiful, crazy woman of his swallow him up.

She murmured something, the vibrations rippling along his length, and he knew he was this close to

completely losing it. He absolutely did not want to come like this. Deep in her mouth, practically

bumping the back of her throat. No way, no how was he shooting his load after only a few minutes

enjoying the best blowjob of his life. He hadn’t been with Willow for years. He wanted this moment

to be special.

“Will.” He tugged on her hair, making her glance at him. “Not like this, sugar. I want to be inside

you. I fuckin’ need to be inside you.”

Slowly she pulled away, her lips still damp. She licked them, the sight of her pink tongue making

him groan, and he pulled her to him, meshing his mouth with hers. How easily she opened for him, the

kiss going deep and hot and wet in an instant until he had to pull away, push her away so he wouldn’t

do something crazy—like slip inside her body without any sort of protection.

“Put it on me,” he demanded again, his voice hoarse. “Get the goddamn condom on me.”

Without hesitation she slipped it on, stroking him with the movement, her gaze meeting his. When

she finished, she was coming at him, climbing on top of his lap and slipping her legs around his hips.

Her drenched center brushed against him, making him shudder as she ground into him. “I want to be

with you like this. Remember when we used to do it this way all the time?”

Lord above, did he ever. He would grip her slender hips and hammer inside of her as she sat

astride him, her little body bouncing on his dick, driving the both of them out of their minds.

He hadn’t had sex with another woman in this position since. It felt like it belonged to Willow

somehow.

And look at her, treating it with the same sort of reverence as he had. Like the position was too

intimate to share with anyone else.

“Ride me,” he whispered, gripping her hips and lifting her up. She slid down slowly, too damn

slowly for his tastes, and he pushed her until her ass met his thighs and the both of them were

groaning. “Yeah, just like that.”

She rocked against him, her hands in his hair, her breasts in his face. He kissed her, licked her

nipples, nibbled on them, sucked them deep. Just like her body sucked him deep. They were wound

all around each other, their labored breaths in tandem as well as their bodies.

He opened his eyes, watching her, overcome with the sensuous way she moved, her skin damp with

sweat, her lips swollen from his kisses. He curved his hand around her nape and brought her down to

his mouth, kissing her, devouring her, needing her to know how badly he craved her. Needed her.

“I…” Her voice drifted when he thrust particularly deep. “I’m going to come, Nick. Oh, God.”

He thrust again. And again. Deep. Deeper, captivated by the rapturous expression on her face. He

could literally see her reach for it, straining toward her climax. Her head tilted back, her eyes not

quite closed, her lips parted.

His name fell from her lips in a rhythmic chant, and that sent him spiraling toward his own orgasm.

Increasing his pace, he whispered her name, and she met his gaze, never taking her eyes away from

him as she fell under. Her body trembled, her inner walls clenching around him tightly, pulling his

orgasm from him until he was lost. Completely and totally lost.

This woman blew his damn mind. He never wanted to be found again.

Unless it was with Willow.

…

She couldn’t stop shaking.

Willow lay in Nick’s arms, snuggled against his chest. His skin was smooth, hot and unyielding

beneath her cheek, and she burrowed closer, his deliciously familiar scent filling her head, soothing

her.

Freaking her out.

What they’d just shared had felt…monumental. Being in his arms again, having him inside her body,

moving with her as if they’d never been apart… Like they’d always been together, all these years

later.

It was too much. Not enough. She wanted more. She wanted to run away.

God, could she be more confused?

“I’m staying the night,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling from his chest, vibrating against her

cheek. “No way can I get my ass out of bed and drive myself home.”

“No, I suppose you can’t drive all the way to San Jose this late,” she said, sort of put out that he

stated he was going to stay versus asked to.

Then again, she also found it incredibly bossy and arousing.

She was sick. Sick in the head. All twisted up over a man who was forcing her to go on dates with

him so she could get what she wanted—so that the both of them could get what they wanted. She

wanted her business and he supposedly wanted…her.

And then he’d leave her in the dust just like the last time they were together. Was she a glutton for

punishment or what? Did she purposely seek out trouble?

That’s exactly what Nick Hamilton was. Trouble. He was playing a game with her body, mind, and

heart and she would pay the price sooner rather than later.

There was no doubt in her mind.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He squeezed his arm around her shoulders, drew his fingers down her bare

arm. She shivered beneath his light touch. “Tired?”

Nodding, she closed her eyes, her lips brushing against his skin. She didn’t mean to kiss him but

next thing she knew, she was pressing tiny little kisses all over his chest, licking the colorful tattoo on

his pec, tracing his number as her leg curved around his thigh, as she rubbed herself against him.

“Will, I hate to tell you this, but you’re acting like a woman who isn’t tired at all.” The lazy

amusement in his voice sent a thrill shooting through her.

What the hell was wrong with her? Not even ten minutes ago he’d given her the orgasm of her life.

Now she was humping his leg and acting like she wanted to get it on again.

Which she did. Desperately.

“I am. Trust me, I’m exhausted.” She rode his leg, shameless with her movements. His thigh was

huge, covered in light hair, and solid as a rock. The friction that sparked between her legs with every

rub was already pushing her close to the edge.

“Are you going to make yourself come on my leg?” He sounded incredulous.

“Maybe.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes, bending her head so he couldn’t see her. He just felt

so damn good, and she was still so amped up. She needed the relief. Badly.

“Well, if you’re gonna do it like this, at least let’s make it a little more enjoyable.” He clasped her

face between his hands and tilted her head back, his mouth moving over hers. She sighed against his

lips, opening for his tongue, twining hers lazily with his. She rode his leg faster, their kiss becoming

more urgent, his fingers twisting in her hair.

“Oh, God.” She murmured the words against his swollen lips, and he shook his head, pushing her

off him so he could make a dive for the bedside table. He practically tore the drawer out of its slot in

his haste to grab another condom, and she lay back against the pillows, breathless with anticipation,

enraptured with watching him move that finely muscled body of his.

“No way am I going to let you come like that, rubbing against me like a cat in heat.” He slipped the

condom on his erection, his expression tight, mouth grim. “I think you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

More like the other way around. All he had to do was lay there and she became aroused. Like she

had some sort of sickness and Nick Hamilton was her only cure.

“I was so close,” she said, her voice small.

“And you will be again in a matter of minutes. That I can promise you.” He grabbed her by the

waist and drew her beneath him, his cock poised at her entry. “Sore?”

She shook her head, but it was a complete lie. He’d taken her hard earlier, and she was a little

tender between her legs. But she didn’t care. She wanted him.

He slid inside her body, groaning at first contact. She stared at him in wonder, loving the agonized

expression on his face, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his jaw clenched. Ramming so hard inside her

he pushed her up the mattress with his every thrust. Further and further until her head became almost

submersed beneath the pillows. God, he felt so good inside her, despite her earlier soreness.

Laughing, she batted them away, making him still above her as he cracked open his eyes. “Being

inside you, I forget myself.”

Her heart split open at his words. She parted her lips, ready to toss out some glib retort, but he cut

her off.

“Being with you, Will, it feels like…being home.” He leaned in, brushed her lips with his, the kiss

tender. Full of too much unnamed emotion that threatened to make her cry.

Damn it, she refused to cry. Not with Nick. This was nothing between them. They were just old

lovers who gave in to each other. Old friends who were pretending to go on dates.

Correction. She was being blackmailed to go on dates with him. Why, she still wasn’t quite sure.

He gave her some song and dance about wanting to be with her, but she didn’t believe him. He was

just laying on the Nick charm nice and thick to get her naked and into bed.

Second date in and he made it happen. He was more talented than even he probably realized.

“Damn, you feel so good.” He clasped her hands with his and brought them above her head,

entwining their fingers tightly. It was yet another connection, another way for her to feel how much he

wanted her. She bowed her body beneath his, sending him deeper, making him groan as he rocked

within her faster, his movements less controlled. “You with me? You gonna come with me, Will?”

“Yes.” She so was. Never had she been a big believer in simultaneous orgasm but looking at them,

their bodies wracked with shudders, the both of them crying out as their climaxes took them over

completely. A little cry escaped her, and she tightened her fingers around his, needing him to know

how amazing that felt.

Needing him to know how much this night meant to her, despite her secretly believing it was a

mistake.

Because it was. It so was.

Chapter Ten

“You really want our date to be here?” Willow wrinkled her nose as Nick pulled his car into the

parking lot of Monterey’s Fisherman’s Wharf. Another night out with Nick and she kind of felt sad

that they were getting closer to his part of the deal being finished. She enjoyed her dates with Nick.

Not that she’d ever really admit it. He’d take that information and run with it. Rub it in her face.

Taunt her. He loved nothing more but giving her a bunch of grief.

She thoroughly enjoyed returning the favor.

“What’s wrong with it? I love this place. I don’t get over here very much, either.” Nick pulled into

a parking spot and cut the engine.

“It’s super cold tonight,” she protested. It really wasn’t. An unusual heat wave had swept through

the entire bay over the last two days, increasing the December temperatures and keeping the sun high

and warm in the sky.

“If you get too cold, I’ll buy you a cheesy tourist sweatshirt,” Nick offered, that easygoing smile

seemingly plastered on his face. She was growing quite used to seeing it, not that she’d ever admit

that little tidbit to anyone. Especially Nick. “Come on, Will. Loosen up and have some fun. You’ve

been working hard, and you need a break. Hell, we both need a break. I know this sort of thing isn’t

your scene, but I bet you could enjoy this date tonight if you just let yourself.”

“It’s full of tourists.” She watched him, the single light that burned within the car’s interior casting

him in a shadowy glow, looking incredibly handsome as usual. The man was too gorgeous for words,

dressed in his plain navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, looking for all the world like a regular guy, not

the amazingly talented football player he really was.

“So?” He shrugged, always so casual, so easygoing. He made her feel extra tense and bitchy when

he was like this.

God, she both adored him and wanted to smack him for being so…disgustingly perfect. “Why aren’t

you wearing your Hawks sweatshirt?” she asked.

He glanced down at his chest. “People will be less inclined to recognize me. The place is full of

tourists, remember?”

She thought he was all for being recognized. It drove her crazy, his legion of fans coming at him all

the time, yet he seemed to love it. “Don’t you think they’ll recognize you regardless?” She knew she

would. “It’s a Thursday night and for whatever reason, the place is packed. Look at this lot.”

Cars surrounded them. Maybe there was some sort of event going on, she wasn’t sure, but he was

right. The Wharf seemed at full capacity, which meant the crowds would be massive.

“If I don’t make a big deal about it, no one else will either. And no one will recognize my ass. I’m

not that important,” Nick said.

“Don’t downplay yourself,” she protested, surprised that he would say such a thing. He was totally

important. An integral part of the Hawks team.

She frowned. Since when did she rush to defend Nick? He had a point. She shouldn’t want anyone

to recognize them. What if her father found out they were seeing each other? She really shouldn’t care,

but he’d hated Nick all those years ago and wouldn’t be a fan now, either. Her dad always expected

more from her. And she hated to think it, but she knew Nick wasn’t the sort of more her father was

talking about.

“Aw, are you defending me, darlin’? That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned over the

center console and kissed her, his lips warm and insistent, his tongue darting out for a lick. She

opened for him immediately, heard him growl low in his throat, and then he was pushing her away,

shaking his head. “I’m not gonna get all caught up in those tasty lips of yours yet again, no matter how

hard you try to lure me in. Let’s go.”

Dazed, she watched him climb out of the car and round the front, coming to open her door. She

stepped out, secretly thrilled with his gentlemanly manners, with the possessive way he pressed his

hand to the small of her back as he guided her through the parking lot toward the Wharf.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Panic rose within her and she fought it down. God, she

sounded like a such a bitch, but she preferred staying home with Nick.

Less chance of them being caught together.

“You used to be up for anything, Will. What the hell happened to you? You get old and stuck in your

ways?” he asked incredulously.

She sniffed. “I’ll remind you that you’re older than me.”

“Yeah, well who’s acting like the senior citizen now, huh?” He grinned when she sent him a deathly

glare. The bastard.

Without another word she let him lead, her brain churning over what she should say next, wishing

she could just drop it. At least for a little while. The scent of the sea hung heavily in the air, the cry of

the seagulls overhead both irritating and familiar. They circled above, looking for any scrap of food

they could find—and there was surely plenty, what with all the tiny restaurants that lined the Wharf.

As they drew closer, the mouthwatering scents from all of those restaurants assailed her, making

her stomach growl and her head light. She hadn’t eaten lunch today, which was a huge mistake, but

she’d been so busy…

“You’ve stiffened up. Everything okay?” Nick asked as he leaned in close to her ear.

She both loved and hated how easily he read her. “I’m hungry.”

“Smells good, huh? I want clam chowder in a bread bowl.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious.” She hadn’t had that in years. It was a calorie bomb ready to detonate

on her butt. “But I can’t. I don’t eat that type of stuff anymore.” She skipped meals all the time lately

—too busy working.

“Why the hell not?” He exerted gentle pressure on her back, guiding her through the growing crowd

as they walked down the sidewalk toward the beckoning Fisherman’s Wharf. “You need to take better

care of yourself, woman. That means three square meals a day.”

How did he know? It was like he kept tabs on her when she wasn’t even aware of it.

“God, you’re bossy,” she said with a little groan, secretly pleased he was watching out for her.

“Someone’s gotta tell you how to take care of yourself. And three meals a day, enough sleep, and

exercise is the proper way to keep you strong.”

“You sound like you’re in the military, what with your three squares and proper sleep and exercise

talk,” she returned, slightly offended. She knew how to take care of herself. So she hadn’t slept much

lately and was working all the time. Big deal. Building a business took everything out of her. She’d

have time for sleep later.

“I play for the Hawks. Same diff.” He made a face when she glanced up at him. “Not really. I’m not

out on the front lines defending our country against the bad guys. But it’s drilled in my head to eat

properly. And you, my sweet little Miss Cavanaugh, do not eat properly. Skipping meals and shit.”

He sounded irritated with her, and as usual that riled her up. “You’re not my dad.”

“Thank Christ for that,” he said with a scowl. She smacked his arm, making him yelp. “What the

hell was that for?”

“I know you hate my father so I don’t need the reminder.” Yeah, she so didn’t need to think about

her dad tonight. Couldn’t even work up an ounce of pleasure at seeing big bad Nick rubbing his arm

where she hit him.

“Can’t I ever catch a break with you?” Nick asked.

“Buy me clam chowder in a bread bowl and you’re forgiven,” she suggested, a little smile making

her lips twitch. “Then you can’t get on me anymore about my lack of sleep and eating.”

Nick flashed her a wicked grin. “Oh, I’ll buy you that bread bowl. But I’ll also get on you before

the night is through, if you know what I mean. I can guarantee that. And then you won’t be doing much

sleeping, though that’ll be my fault so I’ll take full responsibility.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, ignoring her heated cheeks as she studied the

multitude of businesses they wandered past as they pushed through the crowd. There were lots of little

shops filled with knickknacks and clothing for tourists to take home and prove where they’d gone, and

quite a few candy shops, including a taffy place that smelled divine and one that sold a variety of

flavored popcorn.

A flash of inspiration for new cotton candy flavors came to her. She should come to these sorts of

places more often. Her time was consumed with the new location and she didn’t get out much. But

coming to these sorts of places with the scents and the sounds and the colors—not to mention the

tastes—was the perfect starting point for new ideas.

Her stomach growled again, damn it, reminding her she needed to eat before she did something

horrendously humiliating. Like faint.

“So where are you taking me?” she asked, sounding way grumpier than she felt. She blamed her

empty stomach.

Nick took her hand as if he needed the connection and, entwining their fingers, gave it a gentle

squeeze. His palm was large, his fingers long, and he tugged her close in a protective gesture. “The

place I like to go to is up ahead on the left. I think you’ll like it.”

He stopped in front of a building that had seen better days. Yellow chipped paint, a grungy looking

interior, and a walk up window where they could make their order to go greeted them. “This is the

place, huh?” she asked warily, wondering if the kitchen was up to code.

“Baby, they make the best clam chowder I’ve ever tasted. Even better than the chowder I’ve had in

San Francisco.” He nodded at the employee who stood behind the counter, gaping at him. “How ya

doing? Two clam chowders in a bread bowl, please.”

“Aren’t you…” the employee trailed off, shaking his head. “You are, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Nick schooled his expression, his face completely neutral while the

kid continued to stare.

He slowly shook his head. “Never mind. Coming right up.”

“Why did you do that?” Willow asked when the teenager moved away to serve up their chowder.

She was surprised. He usually reveled in the attention.

“I don’t need all that superstar shit. Tonight is about you and me and clam chowder.” Nick smiled

slowly, his gaze warm as he bent down and dropped a kiss on her lips. “You look extra pretty tonight,

Will. Did I mention that already?”

He might’ve when he came to pick her up but she’d let him say it again. “You look good, too,” she

said reluctantly. He always looked good. It drove her crazy.

Nick shrugged those sexy broad shoulders. “Same ol’ me. Maybe I’m just growing on you.”

Well. Wasn’t that the truth? Not that she’d ever admit it.

They grabbed their bread bowls, Nick paid, and they found a bench to sit on, eating and watching

people as they passed by. The breeze off the ocean became bitingly cold, and Willow shivered

beneath her thin sweater.

“I’m buying you the cheesiest sweatshirt imaginable after we finish eating,” he said, pointing his

plastic spoon at her.

“No way am I wearing some neon pink sweatshirt with California emblazoned across it.” She

slowly shook her head, instantly coming up with a better idea. “Maybe I’ll buy you one instead.”

“Make sure it’s purple and has a sad-faced seal on the front of it,” he said, not batting an eyelash.

“Purple is my favorite color.”

“It is not.” Didn’t anything faze him? She was so on edge being with him out in public, and he acted

like it was no big deal.

“Maybe you should snuggle with me under my sweatshirt instead,” he suggested, his gaze heated as

he stared at her.

A giggle escaped her, and she immediately clamped her lips shut. “No way.” She shook her head,

despite her skin buzzing with anticipation. That sounded like an amazing idea, but she refused to do it.

She couldn’t be seen with Nick like that, surrounded by strangers. It might give him ideas.

It might give her ideas. Ideas she couldn’t begin to contemplate.

This is fake. These dates mean nothing. Don’t forget. And whatever you do, don’t let him break

your heart again.

She really, really needed to remember that.

They ate and talked, sharing what happened in their worlds the last few days like a normal couple,

which made her uneasy.

“Work keeping you busy?” he asked nonchalantly as he devoured his clam chowder.

“Definitely. This is one of the busiest times of year for me. During the holidays and early summer.

Holiday parties or weddings and baby showers.” She went into enthusiastic detail about her schedule

for the next few weeks and the new cotton candy flavors she wanted to try thanks to the inspiration she

just received here at the Wharf.

That mention had put a particular sparkle in Nick’s eyes, which, of course, thrilled her.

Not that she would ever admit it.

“How do you feel about the next game? Are you ready?”

“Hell, yeah. I’m pumped. The entire team is pumped. Don’t like to go into too much detail only

because we get a little superstitious.” He tore off a hunk of sourdough bread from his bowl and

chewed thoughtfully. “After everything’s over, we should go on a vacation.”

She nearly swallowed her tongue. “Together?”

“Well, yeah. That’s the idea.” His gaze zeroed in on her face, turned thoughtful and aroused, all at

once. “You work damn hard, woman. You deserve a break.”

“You work pretty hard yourself,” she pointed out, her skin warming with pleasure that he seemed so

concerned with her wellbeing tonight.

But he was talking about a future that they really didn’t have. Why in the world would he want to go

on a vacation with her when he was blackmailing her for a certain amount of dates?

Maybe because Nick actually cares about you?

Why did the idea of that both excite and scare the crap out of her?

The more they talked, the more she forgot that she was supposed to be angry with him. She laughed

at all of his jokes. He dialed down the overt charm and just acted like himself—the Nick she

remembered from before. All the while they scooted closer and closer to each other, until finally they

were done with their dinner and she was practically sitting on his thigh, her head nestled on his chest,

his deep voice rumbling against her ear as he talked.

Realizing what she was doing, she tried to jerk out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let her.

“I know you grew up with your father but you never say anything about your mom. Tell me about

her,” he said, his voice soft.

She stiffened, unease making her blood run ice cold. “There’s not much to tell.”

“She’s never really been in your life, huh?” He knew this. She’d been ultra sensitive to the subject

when they were together the first time around. Realizing at the age of nineteen that your mom doesn’t

give a shit about you hurts. A lot.

Maybe that’s why she’d clung so hard to Nick back then…

“It’s always just been me and my dad,” she finally answered, wishing they weren’t having this

conversation.

Now it was his turn to stiffen. “Yeah…Walter. So how’s he doing?”

“As overprotective as ever.” She paused, plucking at the front of his sweatshirt, horrified when she

realized she was acting like the typical clingy girlfriend. She let her hand fall away from him. “He’d

probably have a coronary if he saw the two of us together.”

She didn’t even want to think about what her father would do.

“I’m sure,” Nick said wryly.

They remained silent for a few minutes, Willow’s head spinning. He asked about her mom, and no

one ever did that. She knew Nick was close to his mother so maybe it was just a natural thing. He

probably thought the fact that she wasn’t close to her mom was pretty disappointing. Which it was.

Plus, he probably remembered how torn up she’d been at nineteen, feeling abandoned and angry at

her neglectful mother.

“Talking about my mother isn’t easy because we don’t have much of a relationship,” she finally

said, feeling defensive but needing to get this out. “She lives in Europe. She’s selfish and vain and

only cares about the clothes she wears and if she looks young enough. She used to be a model.”

“I bet you look just like her,” he said softly, reaching out to touch her hair.

She jerked away from him. “You’re right, I do. And I hate it. I think my dad doesn’t really like the

reminder either.”

“You gotta be kidding me. You’re his only child,” Nick said, looking furious in her defense.

She shouldn’t have said that about her dad. Shouldn’t have said he would freak if he knew they

were together, either. It was rude—a reminder of their crappy past. How they snuck around and kept

everything hidden. Yeah, she should still be pissed at Nick for forcing her to go on these dates with

him, but this one…didn’t feel forced.

And that scared her.

“The restaurant at the end of the pier has the best view of the bay you’ll ever see,” he said out of

nowhere.

“Really?” She glanced up at him, found him staring down at her. He looked so…serious. Too

serious, and she couldn’t have that. She should be mad at him. Furious he was forcing her to pretend

to be something they’re not. He just wanted in her pants again, and she let him. Stupid on her part

because if she let him get even a fraction closer, he had the potential to really tear her heart out of her

chest when he left.

Because he would leave. Of that she had no doubt.

“I wanna take you there,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips, lingering. “Want to check it

out?”

“Sure,” she whispered, noticing the fire that lit his eyes when she agreed. She wondered what he

had planned.

Despite her tumultuous emotions, she couldn’t wait to find out.

…

Tonight’s date with Willow couldn’t be more perfect if he tried. The more they talked, the more

agreeable she became—until he mentioned her mother. But he could understand her defensiveness

regarding that subject. It also explained a lot of her behavior.

He tried his best to coax the old Willow out—the one he fell so hard for—but she was a different

woman now, one that he was definitely attracted to. Strong and so damn independent. Smarter, sexier,

wittier. Fuck, this woman did a number on him. He wanted to take her back to her place, strip her

naked, and kiss every inch of her smooth, beautiful skin.

But first he wanted to do something a little riskier. Have a little fun, push her limits a bit. He

remembered how excited she used to get when he got a little grabby in public. They’d had sex more

than once in public places their first time around. Completely insatiable, unable to keep their hands

off of each other, what they’d shared had been so intense, so outrageously good…

It was still good. Hell, it was better. Thoughts of blackmail and Walter Cavanaugh and buildings

for lease and fake dates…they all fell away the more time he spent with Willow.

Taking her hand, Nick led her up the narrow stairwell that led to the top of the restaurant,

wondering if she noticed his slightly sweaty palms. Damn, he was nervous. She made him nervous.

He didn’t want her to push him away, to tell him there was no way she would do what he wanted.

So he’d seduce her instead. With a beautiful view, a few murmured sexy words, and kisses on the

neck.

Her favorite.

They emerged on top of the building and he led her to the side that faced the Wharf and the

Monterey Bay just beyond. The wind was cooler up this high, blowing back her hair so it flew into

his face. He brushed the stray tendrils away, baring her neck to his gaze as he breathed deep her scent.

She smiled back at him, the most carefree he’d ever seen her.

“The view is beautiful,” she murmured as she leaned against the railing, peering over the edge to

check out all the people milling around on the wharf below them. “I don’t think I’ve ever been up here

before.”

“Nice, huh?” He came up behind her, bracing his hands on the railing on either side of her, boxing

her in. “I like the view I have right here, too.”

A little shiver went through her when he impatiently nudged some of her hair away from her neck

with his nose, pressing his mouth to her nape. Her skin was warm and so, so soft. Her low

murmurings pleased him as he dropped tiny kisses on her neck, licking her skin.

Just like that he was hard for her. Aching for her. He stepped in closer, letting her feel just what she

did to him, and she pressed her ass against his groin, trying to drive him crazy, no doubt.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, sounding scandalized.

He hoped like hell it was all an act. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“Trying to drive me crazy?” She drew in a harsh breath when he sucked on her earlobe.

“Yeah.” He slipped his hands beneath her shirt, touching her stomach. It quivered beneath his

fingertips. “Remember how horny we used to get in public places, Will?”

She laughed, the soft sound tearing at his insides. Damn, he’d give anything to hear her laugh like

that again and again. All the time. He liked a happy Willow. “Some of our more embarrassing

memories, don’t you think?”

“Nah.” He slid one hand higher until he was cupping her breast, the lace of her bra rasping against

his palm. He could feel her hard nipple beneath, and he brushed his thumb across it, making her gasp.

“Remember that one time we were at a restaurant and I slipped my hand between your legs? Got you

off while you were trying to talk to that waiter?”

“You were so bad,” she whispered. “How could I ever forget that?”

One of his favorite memories of Willow, ever. Her skin had been all flushed, her dark eyes

sparkling, her breaths coming a little too fast. She’d just come all over his fingers and had to smile

and offer a stuttered thank-you to their over-attentive waiter, who kept trying to sneak a look down the

front of her tank top.

“I’m in the mood to make another memory tonight, Will. You on board?” Both hands were tunneled

beneath her shirt now as he cupped her breasts, played with her nipples as he leaned over and kissed

her cheek.

“But there are so many people…” Her voice trailed off when he pushed her bra up and touched

bare skin.

“They’re down there, baby. We’re up here, all alone. They’ll never be the wiser.” He removed one

hand from her breast and cradled the side of her face, turning her so their lips met and clung. He took

it deeper, the kiss turning instantly hot and wet, their tongues tangling, their breaths coming faster.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered against his lips after she broke the kiss first.

He ground himself against her backside, his cock a needy, aching thing for her. Only her. “I need to

be inside you. Please.”

She studied him, her eyes wide, her lips damp as she pressed them together. They were so close,

his body molded to hers; he could feel every inch of her seeping into him. The arch of her back, the

curve of her ass, those pretty long legs coming apart the slightest bit so he could rub his thigh between

her thighs. A little groan escaped her when he did just that and he smiled.

This was going to be so easy.

And so good, too.

“You sure no one will notice?”

He nodded once, his hands going to her hips. “Turn and face the crowd, beautiful. I’ll take care of

everything. You just enjoy the ride.”

Another soft laugh escaped her and she shook her head. “You better be quick then. What if someone

catches us?”

“No chance in hell am I gonna be quick. And no one will catch us. We’re alone up here.” He

dropped a kiss on her lips. “Remember?”

“I don’t feel so alone, what with all those people down there.” She waved a hand at the crowded

wharf. “What if someone looks up and sees us?”

“You’ll be fully clothed. At least from the waist up, and they can’t see much beyond that.” He

smiled as he slowly slid the zipper on her pants down. “And if someone catches us, well then we’re

gonna give them the show of a lifetime.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Turn around, Will,” he commanded, more than ready to slide inside her tight little body.

She did as he asked and he tugged at her black pants, pushing them down so they fell to her ankles.

Her little pale pink lacy panties were a sight to behold, making him pause for the longest minute so he

could drink in all that hotness. Damn, she drove him wild.

“Nice panties,” he murmured, curling his fingers around the waistband and tugging them down. “I

think you wear this sort of thing just to drive me crazy.”

“You’re rather observant, aren’t you?” Amusement laced her voice, and he smiled in response,

even though she couldn’t see him.

“Mmm, hmm.” Grabbing the condom he’d slipped into the front pocket of his jeans earlier, he

hurriedly undid the snap and slid down the zipper, pushing his pants off along with his underwear.

He talked of taking his time, but he was a damn liar. Excitement rushed through him as he slipped

the condom on and bent his knees, nudging at her hot, wet center. She spread her legs farther without

him having to say a word and then he was sliding inside her welcoming body. Engulfed completely in

Willow, he closed his eyes and breathed deep, pressing his face to her fragrant hair.

“Are you watching everyone, darlin’? Think they know what we’re doing?” he whispered against

her hair.

She slowly shook her head. “They don’t notice us.”

“Do you want them to notice us?” He started to move, slow at first, letting her get used to the

position, and he pressed at her lower back, adjusting her so she could take him better. “Does it turn

you on, knowing anyone could look up at this very moment and figure out pretty quickly that I’m

fucking you?”

“Oh God.” She moaned, and he swore he felt a flood of wetness surround his cock at his words.

Will always liked the dirty talk.

“You cold?” She was shivering, shaking her head in answer as he increased his pace, thrusting

deeper. Harder. Faster. Taking her brutally with his cock, dropping soft kisses on her neck to ease his

forcefulness.

But she never protested. More like she encouraged with her little moans, how wet she was, her soft,

dirty words of encouragement. How she wanted him to fuck her harder and make her scream. Make

her come.

“You’re a fucking dirty girl, you know that?” He licked her, sucking on her skin, wanting to leave a

mark. Mark her as his so no other jackass would bother looking in her direction again.

She belonged to him.

His woman just didn’t know it yet. They were so damn good together, how could she deny that they

were meant to be? He felt it. She had to have felt it. And if she didn’t?

He’d make Willow fall in love with him.

And as she came around his cock with those sexy little cries that sent him spiraling straight over the

edge, he clutched at her hair, pulling her to him, kissing her so fiercely he hoped like hell she knew

and understood the depth of emotion he felt for this woman.

Hell. His life had just taken a turn for the scary and unknown.

Again. Just like the last time.

Chapter Eleven

“How’s the dating going?”

Willow focused on the tedious task of peeling off yet another label and sticking it on yet another

container. “What dating?” she asked innocently.

Sheridan laughed. “Come on, you recruit me to do this super boring job and you’re not even going

to give me any gossip?”

“There’s nothing to tell.” She lied like a dog.

“You’re a liar.” And her best friend always knew when she lied like a dog, too.

“Fine.” Willow pushed aside the stack of containers she’d already labeled. She was about to create

a bunch of new cotton candy flavors, basing them on some of the fun taffy flavors she’d tasted when

she and Nick were at Fisherman’s Wharf a few nights ago, so she needed the containers ready to go

so she could package them. Her Internet sales had taken off over the last few months, and she could

barely keep up the supply with the demand. “We went on our fourth date last week.”

“Ooh, halfway there.” Sheridan smirked, slapping a label on crookedly. “How was it?”

Willow grimaced. “Terrible. I hate him.” She should’ve done this on her own, since she wasn’t in

the mood for an interrogation. “I’m lying. It was…fun. We uh, hung out at the Wharf.”

Where he fucked her for all the world to see, gave her an orgasm so intense, her legs had shaken the

entire walk back to the car, and then he’d taken her back to her place.

And proceeded to have sex with her all night long.

She wasn’t protesting, but come on. They weren’t really dating. They were hooking up more often

than not. They were truly each other’s booty call, pretty much what she accused him of that first night

he’d showed up unexpectedly.

It was shameful, how badly she wanted him. He’d stood on her front porch the last time he came

over—which was last night, and they both agreed it didn’t count as one of their official dates, more

like a meeting, he called it—smelling like the outdoors, his hair windblown, his hooded sweatshirt

sprinkled with raindrops. The wind howled angrily, the night sky seemingly darker with foreboding

clouds as a light smattering of rain fell.

Willow had taken one look at him, handsome as sin, flashing that devil’s smile that told her

everything he wanted to do to her without saying a word. She’d greeted him at the door wearing a

robe then proceeded to untie the sash and let it fall to the floor…

Revealing that she wore absolutely nothing.

He’d whistled low, his gaze locked on her chest as he pushed his way into her place—where he

proceeded to fuck her against the wall next to the door, the wind whipping against the house, the rain

beating an angry rhythm on her roof.

What a particularly hot night that had been.

God, being with Nick was like the most thrilling, exciting ride of her life.

“You look completely dopey eyed,” Sheridan said.

Willow shook herself. “Sorry, um. Thinking about my last date with Nick.” She winced. Why did

she go and say that? Now Sheridan would have her all figured out.

“Must’ve been a doozy to put that dreamy look on your face. What happened to my cynical friend?

She’s been replaced by some girl who has stars in her eyes and pines for her boyfriend.” Sheridan

laughed when Willow sent her a death glare.

“Please. I pine for no one.” She was offended Sheridan even suggested it.

“Trust me, you’ve got it bad for him. I can see it written all over your face. And you know what?”

Sheridan pointed at her. “It’s okay to feel that way. I know exactly what you’re going through. At first,

I wanted to keep my distance from Jared. After a while, I realized I was totally hot for him. And then

a little bit later, I knew I was falling for him. That I had fallen completely in love with him.”

“I am not in love with Nick Hamilton,” Willow said vehemently.

“I never said that. But it’s okay to admit you’re falling for him, that you care about him. I know it’s

scary,” Sheridan said in a rush, as if she knew Willow was going to interrupt and defend herself—

which had been her plan. “Trust me, I was scared to death, especially when I thought it was

completely one sided. But you know what I learned?”

“What?” Willow asked, pushing the still unlabeled containers away from her. Forget the

monotonous task. She needed some advice.

“I discovered that despite feeling rather alone in my so-called relationship, I wasn’t alone at all.

He was standing right there next to me, going through the same conflicting emotions as I was. That’s

what got me through it all. Realizing Jared was feeling the same things I was.”

“I doubt Nick feels much of anything for me beyond being a good lay. And that he’s forcing me to

date him. So romantic, you know. I’m not at all sure what he wants from me.” Ack, she couldn’t

believe she just admitted that, but it needed to be said. That was all they had between them.

Good sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Hmm, don’t be too sure about that,” Sheridan said.

“What do you know?”

“I know nothing.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. What’s Nick telling Jared now?”

“I’m telling you the truth. We know nothing. Nick’s been pretty quiet lately,” Sheridan said.

“Really?”

Sheridan nodded, grabbing a stack of labels and a stack of containers, starting all over again. At

least her labels were a little straighter this go-around. “Yeah, which is totally unlike him, according

to my husband. Nick usually has no problems singing the blues about his lacking love life or whatever

to Jared. The time he’s been spending with you? He’s pretty much warned everyone on the team he

doesn’t want to talk about it. He hasn’t even mentioned your name to anyone.”

“Huh.” Well. That was…odd. And irritating. Was he embarrassed to be with her?

The mere thought both infuriated her and hurt her feelings.

“Don’t huh me. You realize what that means, right?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Willow shrugged. She felt like they were talking in circles.

“It means that you mean something more to him than an easy lay, as you so eloquently put it. When

men don’t want to talk about it, it’s usually because they need to process.” Sheridan offered a gentle

smile and the sight of it struck fear right in the center of Willow’s heart. “I think he’s falling for you,

Willow. And he might be feeling pretty alone in this. You know you’re not one to easily express your

emotions.”

Willow went completely still. No way could Nick be falling for her. Blackmailing her for sex?

Yes. Having outrageous, mutually satisfying sex on a semi-regular basis? Indeed, they definitely were.

Falling for each other? Letting emotions and feelings come into play? They couldn’t be. That was

breaking the rules. And Willow wasn’t one to break the rules. Neither was Nick. He played a game

for a living, for the love of God. He was all about sticking to the rules.

“What you’re suggesting is crazy,” Willow said, exhaling loudly. “No way could he be falling for

me.” She thought of their night at the Wharf. How they talked as if they were people who actually

liked and respected each other versus being forced to go out with each other because of a blackmail

deal.

Sheridan merely lifted a brow and kept on labeling.

“And I am definitely not falling for him.” Was she saying that to convince Sheridan? Or convince

herself?

“When do you see him next?”

“I don’t know. We don’t make plans until the last minute.” And wasn’t that the number one sign of a

typical booty call? It had to be.

“I know he’s been busy. Spending a lot of time with the new publicist.” Sheridan dropped that bit

of information so nonchalantly Willow knew something was up.

“Who’s the new publicist?”

“Oh, Nick didn’t tell you? Her name is Aubrey. She’s young, just out of college. She’s been

specifically assigned Nick and Flynn Foley, so she’s been working extra close with them lately.

Especially Nick.” Sheridan smiled serenely. “His image has taken a small hit ever since his smile and

good mood has seemingly disappeared when he’s out on the football field. Supposedly the fans are

feeling troubled because he looks so troubled. Which I don’t get if the two of you are getting naked all

the time.”

Willow kept all her focus on labeling a gob of containers. No way would she feel guilty about

Nick’s crappy on-the-field attitude. He kept talking like he expected more from her but what could he

really want? A relationship? She didn’t believe it.

Not really.

Okay, fine she hoped he might want that, but she wouldn’t allow herself to hope too long because

that was flat out foolish. He was a man who could have anyone he wanted. He’d already had her once

and dumped her. Why would he want her again?

It made no sense. Yet here he was, whispering in her ear how much he wanted her, needed her, just

before he slipped deep inside her body. His behavior was confusing, to say the least. Was it wrong

she sort of liked it when he bossed her around?

Her heart skipped a beat. She loved it when he was aggressive. Bossy, telling her what to do and

when she could do it. She’d never been into any sort of BDSM-type stuff, but she loved it when Nick

got all growly and demanding. Her panties were a soaked mess most of the time, especially when he

didn’t ask for anything. He just took. Commanded. Possessed.

Her.

“…so Jared thinks Aubrey might have something for Flynn, but rumor has it Aubrey might have

something for Nick too. Who knows.” Sheridan shook her head.

“Wait a minute.” She hadn’t been paying attention to what her friend said but that last remark got

her listening. “Who’s Aubrey?”

Sheridan rolled her eyes. “The new publicist. The one who’s handling your man. An attractive

woman comes to work for the team and next thing you know, she wants to date them all. Including

your man. I think you need to make your claim.”

“Okay, that is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. First of all, you sound like we’re living in a soap

opera, which we so aren’t. And second, Nick doesn’t need to go out with anyone. He has me.” Didn’t

that sound rather possessive of her? She didn’t even bother correcting herself in front of Sheridan.

“And what do you mean, make my claim?”

“He hasn’t told anyone he has you. You’ve been kept completely separate from his regular life,”

Sheridan pointed out. Again.

Willow frowned. Why? Was he ashamed of her? Of course, not like she brought him into her life,

either. They were so on the down low, they really were like a soap opera.

Booty call.

Damn, she hated that phrase.

…

“The holidays are coming up.” Harvey grinned at Nick as he handed him a bottle of water.

“Thanksgiving’s already passed. That’s the only holiday that matters,” Nick said after he’d taken a

long sip.

Harvey settled in the seat across from him. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those, Hamilton.”

“One of those what?” He was sick of the publicity pow-wows they kept having lately. He didn’t

understand them. Didn’t understand Harvey and Aubrey’s sudden keen interest in him. What had he

done to garner their heavy attention besides display a bit of crankiness on the field? Something he’d

moved past, he might add. Last game he played, he’d been back to his chipper self.

They’d written an article about it in Sports Illustrated and everything.

Ridiculous.

“The type who beat up Christmas for being too commercial. All about the gift buying and nothing

about Jesus’s birthday.” Harvey smirked.

“Well…that’s exactly what’s it turned into. It’s all about spending money and nothing else.” Huh.

He wanted to spend money on Willow, but how? What could he get her that didn’t scream serious?

Jewelry? So serious. A vacation for just the two of them like he’d mentioned to her the night at the

Wharf? Extremely serious.

He was in a no-win situation.

“That’s great and all but I wanted to talk to you about your Christmas plans.” Harvey leaned

forward. “You going back home as usual?”

“Yep.” Nick nodded, slouched in his chair. Practice was done. He’d texted Willow not thirty

minutes ago asking if she was ready for date number five.

She’d sent back a reply in all caps, an enthusiastic: YES.

So why was he still here listening to Harvey’s bullshit when he could be in a woman’s bed, her

warm, willing body wrapped all around him?

“Going back alone?”

What was Harvey getting at? “I usually do.”

“Gonna see your mama and your dad and your sister?” Harvey prodded, slipping into a mangled

Texan accent.

“I sure am. Might poke around the dusty fields and go cow tippin’ too. Is that what you want to

hear? Me slip into my full-on accent and give you some real Texan?” Nick wanted to kick the leg out

from Harvey’s chair and watch him fall to the ground. Now that would be a sight.

“I have an idea that I think will drive the female fans wild about you. With Jared attached, you’ve

become the next big thing. All the ladies love you, but you’ve been such a grumpy bastard lately,

you’re losing traction.” Harvey shook his head. “That’s why we think you need an attitude

adjustment.”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation? And didn’t Sports Illustrated just mention how I’m

back to my normal self?”

“That was before I had a plan. I have an excellent one now. I think you should go on home and see

your mom and dad for the holiday and I think you need to take your new girlfriend with you.”

Oh shit, they found out about Willow. How the hell was he going to approach her with this? He

didn’t mind the idea—hell, he’d been contemplating taking Willow to his mama on his own—but he

didn’t want to handle it like this. Turn the entire thing into a giant media circus. That would only piss

his mama off.

Oh yeah, and Willow too.

“And I think Aubrey is the perfect candidate to play the role of your newfound girlfriend,” Harvey

finished.

“What?” Nick shook his head. “You can’t be serious. This here sounds like some Jared and

Sheridan shit going down, you know.”’

“Right! And look how well that turned out for them?”

Brought them a lot of misery and heartache before they found their happily ever after, but oh yeah,

they were peachy keen right now. “Why would my having a girlfriend help my female fan base? That

makes no damn sense. And what the hell does Aubrey think about this?”

“She is willing to do whatever it takes to get the negative publicity off your back. We’re trying to

go big with you, Nick. Make you a higher profile player, and it’s not working with you so sad all the

time.”

“I’m not sad anymore,” Nick said through gritted teeth.

Harvey waved his hand, dismissing his protest. “You need a woman in your life to keep you happy.

At the very least, you need to pretend that you’re happy because a sad Nick is a pitiful Nick.” He

tilted his head, contemplating him. “So if that means Aubrey needs to pretend to be your significant

other, she has no problem with it,” Harvey said with complete assurance.

“I’ve never been the target for any of your schemes but I gotta say—that was such a fucking crazy

suggestion, I can’t believe you had the balls to bring it up to me. Seriously.” Nick shook his head.

“You have a better idea?” Harvey threw up his hands, clearly frustrated.

“I do. How about I take my real girlfriend home with me to meet Mom and Dad?”

Harvey leaned back in his chair, clearly confused. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I sure do. I kept her my little secret.” And she did the same thing with him. He’d wondered more

than once if she was ashamed to be seen with him. Or worried her father might find out they were

together.

He preferred keeping that shitty feeling completely out of the equation.

“Why would you hide your new girlfriend? You’ve been sitting on a goldmine for however long

and only just now think to tell me?”

“Hey, it was no one’s business but ours.” Nick shrugged. “She’s media shy.”

Harvey snorted. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m telling you the truth. She’s not big on the paparazzi. I mean, who is? That’s why I haven’t

paraded her around. She’s uncomfortable with all the attention.” At least, he thought she was. Plus,

he’d wanted to keep Willow as his own and not share her with the world. It was kind of fun, playing

the secret lovers game.

“That sounds damn near perfect. So the sweet, media shy girl finally captures Nick Hamilton’s

hardened heart? That’s going to make great copy I hope you know.” Harvey clapped his hands

together. “Arrange it. Make it happen. Take the new girlfriend home to Mom and Dad and have a

touching holiday moment. I’ll send a photographer and crew there and they can record everything.”

“My dad won’t go for that.” Neither would he. “I doubt Willow would either.”

Harvey frowned. “Wait a minute, Willow? Don’t tell me you mean Walter Cavanaugh’s daughter.”

“One and the same.”

“Ah hell, Nick.” Harvey grimaced. “She blows my sweet little girlfriend image right out of the

water. Willow’s tough as nails and ready to fight with whoever crosses her. She’s what I would call

a bad choice in girlfriends.”

“Tough shit. I like her, Harvey. There’s no other way around it. If I do this, I’m doing it with

Willow and no one else.”

“Fine.” Harvey shook his head. “You better go talk to her then. The holidays are coming close. You

need someone to take home, so if you’re hell bent on her being the one, I guess you need to ask

Willow.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good.” Harvey smiled, but it looked more like a sneer. “I’m taking this to the media, Nick. You

dating lawyer-to-the-star-athletes Walter Cavanaugh’s daughter could make good press.”

“How?” Harvey could turn anything into good press. He rattled off some explanation but Nick

immediately tuned him out. What would Willow think? Did she want her father to find out?

And what the hell would Walter do once the truth became known?

He parted ways with Harvey minutes later, Nick’s mind racing a million miles a minute. Would she

want to go home with him for the holidays or did she already have plans? God, he had no idea. He

almost feared her rejection. Didn’t know if he could take it.

The woman absolutely kept him on his toes.

Chapter Twelve

The moment Willow opened her door to find Nick fidgeting on her doorstep she knew something was

off.

“Wanna go somewhere and get a drink?” He smiled brightly but his eyes were dim. He was

bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for her answer, downright antsy.

“You want to go somewhere?” Glancing down at herself, she waved a hand at her outfit. She hadn’t

bothered dressing up, since she knew he was coming over, and she was tired from yet another

exhausting day at work. At least this time she hadn’t opted to wear nothing at all, like the night she

greeted him at the door and dropped her robe.

Tonight she had on a pair of jeans, a favorite T-shirt, and a black oversized cardigan. Her hair was

in a sloppy ponytail and most of the makeup she put on this morning had long faded away. He never

complained before. Hell, most of the time he’d been so eager to get her naked, she wondered if he

noticed what she was wearing at all.

“I…yeah.” He nodded, his expression determined. “I sure as shit do, princess. Let’s do this. Let’s

go out and have an amazing time at some fancy restaurant. Whatever you want, I’m buying. And then

after that, let’s go have a drink. Or twenty. Yeah, let’s get good and drunk and then come back here

and fuck around for the rest of the night.”

Okay, he wasn’t acting right. He didn’t particularly care for fancy restaurants. And he wasn’t one to

get shitfaced drunk, especially not during the playoffs. “Are you all right?”

“I am right as rain. How are you doin’?” He flashed that smile again, the one that normally lit a fire

in her belly and made her knees quiver but tonight, it had an almost desperate edge to it.

“Come in here.” She grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him inside, shutting the door behind her

and twisting the lock into place. “Let’s stay in tonight. It’s cold out there.”

“But…wherever you wanna go, darlin’, I’m game. My treat. You could order fifty lobsters for

dinner, and I won’t protest.”

She grimaced. “I hate lobster.”

“You do not,” he said, frowning. “You grew up here. You can pluck a lobster straight out of the

ocean from your dad’s deck.”

“Just because I grew up here doesn’t mean I have to love seafood.” She scrunched her nose. How

she hated explaining this. No one ever got it. “I’ve never been a big fan. Lobster’s sorta freaky. Crab

is too much work, not enough reward. I don’t mind shrimp, though. You can just pop them in your

mouth and eat them.”

“I’ll take you out for all you can eat shrimp, then. You can stuff your face until you wanna burst,” he

suggested eagerly.

Laughing, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’d rather stay in tonight with you.” She sobered up

quick. The more they stayed in the better. This so-called relationship needed to stay quiet. One

mention of it to the media, local or bigger, and all hell was going to break loose. As in, her father

would have an epic freak-out.

“We always do that, though. Stay in.” He scowled. “Aren’t you getting bored?”

Oh, no. “Are you?” God, he was already tired of her. Really, she shouldn’t care. She should be

glad. The faster she got rid of him, the better.

Right?

“No. Hell, no. Anytime I’m with you is good, Will.” He reached for her, settling those big hands on

her hips. Dipping his head, he bent his knees a little so he could peer directly into her eyes. “Are you

getting sick of me yet?”

She pressed her lips together to keep from saying what she really wanted. I could never get sick of

you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“No. Well. Your constant sweet talk is getting sort of old.” She rolled her eyes, putting on an act.

Nothing Nick did when they were together was getting old.

His mouth curved upward. “What are you talking about?”

“All the darlin’s and the sugars and the princess remarks. I think you say that sort of thing so you

never have to worry about the name of the girl you’re with,” she teased.

His face turned frightfully solemn. “You really think that?”

Uh oh. She shrugged. “I’ve wondered.”

“Really.” His fingers bit into her flesh, he held her so tight.

“Maybe?” He had her doubting herself. How did he do that?

Dope. He constantly keeps you on edge.

“Trust me, I always know who I’m with when I’m with you.” He kissed her—the softest, sweetest

kiss ever. So soft, so sweet, she immediately wanted to weep when he pulled away to murmur against

her lips, “Willow.”

He never called her Willow. Ever.

She melted into him like a lovesick idiot, sliding her hands up his chest so she could grip his

shoulders. His hands smoothed around her, settling on her backside, and he drew her against his rigid

erection. “I thought maybe you were getting sick of not doing anything but staying here.”

“Nick. Every time we’re together, we do lots of stuff.” She hooked her hands around his neck and

tugged, wanting his mouth on hers again. “Lots of amazing, fun stuff.”

“I forced you to go on these so-called dates,” he said with a chuckle, though his expression was

somber. “Sort of fucked up, don’t you think? I mean, what the hell are we doing? Me blackmailing

you, our fighting early on…though we’ve been getting along better lately, don’t you think?”

She couldn’t answer, could only stare at his ruggedly handsome face, those pretty blue eyes

watching her just as carefully as she watched him.

“I’m an ass for what I’m doing to you,” he admitted, his voice full of remorse.

“It may have started out with you forcing me to spend time with you.” She weaved her fingers into

his hair. “But I feel like I’ve been given a whole lot more,” she whispered just before she stood on

tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. She couldn’t believe she said that. How she gave away a piece of

herself to him with that one small admission. But he was acting odd tonight. Like he needed

reassurance. She wanted to give him some, wanted to make him feel better.

“Same here, Will. Damn, same here.” He kissed her, his tongue doing wondrous things as it

plumbed the depths of her mouth. Her head spinning, she clung to him, afraid she might slither to the

floor if she let go.

She never wanted to let go.

Somehow they ended up in her bedroom, though she still wasn’t quite sure how they made it. He

undressed her, his fingers skimming bare skin, teasing her, making her hot for him.

Oh, who was she kidding? She was always hot for him.

Just as quickly, she stripped him, ridding him of everything except his dark blue boxer briefs. The

soft cotton strained against his thick thighs, his bulging erection, and she took a step back, admiring

this man who’d so effectively immersed himself into her life she didn’t know what would happen

when he left her.

Because he would leave—he had before. What they shared between them was temporary. Nick

didn’t do permanent.

Neither did she.

“Like what you see?” he drawled. They’d had this conversation in a variety of ways since the first

time she said it to him. His words were teasing, his mouth smiling, but his eyes looked dreadfully

serious.

She decided to be honest. Tonight didn’t seem like a time for barbed comments and arguments

fueled by mounting sexual tension. She was past it. More than anything, she needed to be honest.

“Definitely.” She shoved at his shoulders so he sat on the edge of the mattress, staring up at her, his

hands on her waist. “So much for all you can eat shrimp, hmm?”

He laughed and shook his head. “You always keep me on my toes, you know that, Will?”

She smoothed his hair away from his forehead, reveling in its silky softness. How she enjoyed

touching him. Looking at him. Teasing him. She was venturing into dangerous territory so easily and

ever since they first started this silly date deal, she hadn’t been trying to stop it. “Someone has to.”

Leaning in, he kissed her stomach, his mouth soft. Damp. “You make me never want to leave this

bed. Fuck everything else.”

“What about food?”

“I could feast on you.” He rained tiny kisses all over her stomach.

“What about—what about football?” Her breath hitched when he licked her hipbone.

“You give me enough game play to last a lifetime.” He tightened his arms around her waist,

bringing her closer.

She refused to read into what he just said. Refused, refused, refused.

“I don’t need anything else as long as I have you by my side.”

“Nick…” God, his words were killing her. Not to mention the sincerity written all over his face.

She’d never, ever seen him look at her like this, his gaze full of solemn reverence. Like he wanted to

keep her around.

Forever.

…

Nick waited for Willow to push him away. Or worse, make some sarcastic remark and ruin the

moment completely.

But she didn’t. She stood before him like some sort of naked goddess, her dark hair spilling over

her shoulders, covering her breasts. She trembled in his arms, her hands combing through his hair, her

gaze steady on his.

Damn. This was a moment. One that he knew would be etched in his memory for the rest of his life.

The night he knew he’d fallen completely in love with Willow.

“Come here,” he murmured, falling backward on the bed, taking her with him. She fell on top of

him, soft and warm, her breasts nestled against his chest, her face in his. Bracing herself with her

hands, she lifted away from him, sitting up so she straddled him.

“I’ve always been a fan of this position,” she said with a smile, shifting against him.

The serious moment was gone, which was probably best. She didn’t want to hear any

proclamations of love. Hell, he wasn’t necessarily ready to make them either. But still. It was there.

Thumping through his heart, flowing through his blood, skimming over his skin.

Love. Love for Willow. He was fucking in love with her. He was the man for her.

Did she realize his intentions yet? Or did she think he still only thought of her as a hot piece of ass?

Well, she was a hot piece of ass, but there was so much more to her. Smart. A little sassy. Sexy as

hell. Thoughtful. Daring. Driven. Full of so much fire he had a hard time controlling her sometimes.

He sorta liked that.

“I like this position, too,” he said as she started to move, rocking against him, teasing the hell out of

him considering he still had his underwear on. Her breasts swayed with the movement, her hips

undulating against his, and he gripped her by the waist again, stopping her. He wanted to feel nothing

but skin on skin between them. Fuck the barriers. They needed to shed both the physical and the

emotional ones. “You trying to kill me?”

She smiled. “Always. You sort of deserve it.”

“Witch,” he murmured, pleasure rippling through him when she moved away so she could tug down

his underwear. “You want me to die?”

“Not really. You want me to cast a spell on you?” She quickly disposed of his briefs, tossing them

on the floor before she climbed back on top of him.

He laughed at her not really response. “I think that’s already happened, darlin’. I’m completely

captivated.” Lord help him, wasn’t that the truth?

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” She ground against him. All that wet heat was a complete tease on

his aching dick. Damn, she felt good. Too good. He could probably come like this if she kept that up.

“Grab a condom before I explode,” he said through clenched teeth, desperate to be inside her. It

took no time, and he wanted her. He always wanted her—didn’t think he’d grow tired of her anytime

soon, either.

“Yes, sir.” She plucked one from the bedside table and within moments, he was suited up, moving

inside her. She kept a slow, sensuous rhythm, riding him shamelessly, her head back, her eyes closed,

hands braced on his chest, breasts bouncing.

Fuck, she was beautiful like this. He was tired of pretending what they were doing meant nothing.

Time to take it to the next step.

But would she want to?

He hadn’t lied when he told her she kept him on his toes. He was never sure what she could be

thinking, what she wanted to do next. If she might turn on him or be sweet and accepting—though

lately she was more on the sweet and accepting side, thank Christ. She still liked to indulge in the

sassy attitude, which he didn’t mind.

Was she putting up some sort of facade, though? Pretending with him, going through the motions?

The sex between them was phenomenal. He knew she felt the connection they shared.

He just wasn’t sure if she was willing to take it further.

“Nick.” She moaned his name, and he opened his eyes to find her watching him, grinding on him,

her hips working. He gripped her waist to slow her down because damn, he wanted this to last.

But his woman had other plans in mind.

“Feels so good,” she whispered, her eyes shuttering closed. She was into it, lost in her own little

world, and he watched in total amazement as her brows furrowed, her mouth pursed. “God, you feel

so good, Nick. Please…”

“Willow.” Her eyes opened when he said her name and he slipped his hands behind her back,

pushing her down so her face was on his. “Kiss me, princess.”

She latched her lips to his, kissing him hungrily. He cupped the back of her head, keeping her mouth

on his as he thrust deep inside her, desperately chasing his orgasm, hopefully catching hers, too.

Whimpering against his mouth, she started to shake, little cries escaping her as she came, sending

him straight into his own orgasm.

So easily, it damn near killed him.

…

“I wanna ask you something,” he said hours later. They lay tangled in the covers, sated and sleepy, his

fingers in her hair, her lips to his chest.

“No, I really don’t like seafood,” she said, her voice a soft tease. He could literally feel her smile

against his skin.

Which made him smile in the darkness even though she couldn’t see him. “I get that. Well, I don’t

get it, but whatever. I have something else I want to ask you.”

“What?”

“I was wondering…” He swallowed hard, irritated with his chicken shit behavior. “It’s almost

Christmas, you know.”

She stiffened. It was subtle, but he knew that soft, curvy body of hers well enough to feel it. “Yeah.”

“What are you doing for the holidays?”

Lifting up on one arm, she squinted at him, making him thankful it was mostly dark. “Why do you

want to know?”

“Just asking.” He added a shrug, but she kept on looking at him, so intently he wanted to squirm.

“My dad is going to Aspen,” she said once she settled back against his chest.

“Swanky. You going with him?” Her dad. He’d almost forgotten all about Walter. He certainly

didn’t want to think about him now when he was in bed with Willow.

Would Walter still be upset about Nick dating his daughter again? Or would he finally let her live

her own life and make her own choices?

“I can’t. I have to work,” she said simply.

“You have to work on Christmas?” Yeah, he’d played games on Christmas Eve before, but this

seemed extreme.

“No, but the weekend before I’m going to Vegas and working a bachelorette party.” She launched

into the story. How it was for a girl she went to school with. That it was a combined

bachelorette/extension business launch party with more than five hundred confirmed guests so far.

Sounded crazy.

Also sounded like it had the potential to send her business to the next level, what with all the

contacts.

“The timing just doesn’t work. Too many holiday parties and things scheduled through the New

Year. I can’t get away,” she finished with a little sigh.

“Are you sure? I mean, I know you have those part-time employees who could help you, right?

Maybe they could cover for you,” he suggested. Damn, maybe he shouldn’t ask her. Sounded

pointless, considering she couldn’t leave.

“They need to stay here for the other events I have scheduled. I hired extra help to take with me to

Vegas. That gig is too important not to have them on hand helping out. I mean, I don’t have anything

actually scheduled on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but I have things going on right before and

right after.” She paused. “Why are you asking? What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I’m going home. To Texas so I can spend the holiday with my family.”

“Oh.”

He swallowed hard. Here he was his chance. He needed to just do it. “I was sorta hoping you could

go with me.”

Chapter Thirteen

“What?” Willow scrambled away from him, sitting up so she could stare at him. But it was too damn

dark, and she really couldn’t make out his face. “Are you serious?”

He sat up as well. “I want you to come home with me, Will. I want you to meet my mama.”

Oh. My. God. His mama? He sounded so damn serious. And sweet and cute and loving and…no.

None of that. She was being ridiculous. “Is this why you acted so agitated earlier? Because you were

working up the nerve to ask me to go home with you and meet your mama?”

“Don’t make fun. I’m just a simple, good ol’ mama’s boy who likes to go home as much as I can—

you know this,” he muttered as he leaned over and flicked on the lamp. The moment he caught sight of

her face, his eyes narrowed, his lips clamped shut.

Well, great. Now he got a good look at her panicked, disbelieving expression. “Actually, I don’t

know. I mean, we talk. We hang out. We have a lot of sex. And it’s fantastic. The kind a woman never

forgets, you know? But I don’t know much about your family life, and you really don’t know much

about mine either.”

“If you’d let me in, maybe I’d know more,” he said bitterly. “And maybe if you asked and acted like

you were interested, I’d tell you more.”

“But this isn’t real,” she said. “Our relationship is nothing. It never has been.”

“It’s fucking everything to me. I want to take you home to meet my parents, Will. I want to make

you mine in every way I can.” His lips thinned. “I told Harvey we’re together. And he’s going to make

it public.”

Her eyes went so wide she was afraid they’d pop out of her head. “What?”

“You heard me.” He nodded grimly. “Walter needs to know we’re together and since you’re in no

hurry to tell him, I figured this was the best way.”

“That is the last thing he needs to find out.” She clamped her lips shut as soon as she saw the deadly

gleam in Nick’s gaze.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice almost as dark as his glare. “Why are you hiding this?”

Okay. Where did that come from? “What are we doing here, Nick?”

“What do you mean, what are we doing here?”

“Us. What’s happening between us? These forced dates have morphed into something way more

serious.” She looked at him pointedly, tucking the sheet under her arms. Had he wanted something

more from the beginning? Or had this been the only way he could get her into bed again? Either way,

she wasn’t feeling too sure about her feelings for Nick at the moment. “And you don’t do serious.”

She didn’t either—not with Nick, at least. She’d tried her best to keep distance between them, and

he’d somehow wormed his way into her heart anyway.

Clearly, she was an idiot.

He stared at her, looking dumbfounded. And gorgeous, what with the way the sheet pooled in his

lap, revealing acres of smooth, finely muscled skin. “I told you I wanted to prove to you that I can do

serious.”

“By blowing my mind every time we get together with endless orgasms?” God, she was being so

unfair, but his words freaked her out. She clutched the sheet tighter, almost like it was a shield.

But nothing could protect her from the daggers he shot at her with his eyes. “By spending all my

free time with you and treating you with respect. It hasn’t been all sex between us; you do realize that,

right? Or is that all you can focus on? The sexy dirty times we experience when we get together and

nothing else?”

She hung her head. Couldn’t stand seeing the way he looked at her any longer. Like this was killing

him. Damn it, he was right. They might’ve been indulging in lots of sex but they also talked. She was

comfortable with him. Had started opening up to him, which was a huge mistake.

Huge.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, staring at her hands in her lap. “I’m scared if I give my heart to you,

you’ll stomp all over it. And I don’t think I could take that again.”

“Will, I know I fucked up that first time we were together. I was young and stupid and didn’t know

what I had with you. I’m sorry that I hurt you when I left you like I did, but I…I had my reasons. Stuff I

don’t want to get into because it’s in the past and it’s all just a bunch of excuses.” He blew out a

frustrated breath, and she glanced up, caught him running his hand through his already messy hair, his

biceps bulging with the movement. “We probably wouldn’t have worked out, you know. I was a

cocky asshole hell-bent on doing whatever the fuck I wanted. And I wasn’t about to answer to

anyone.”

She pressed her lips together. He was probably right. Hard to admit but true.

“We were too young. Hell, Will, you were only nineteen and so fucking amazing. I didn’t want to

leave you. I swear I didn’t but I had to.” He sighed and shook his head, his gaze meeting hers.

“You’re still amazing. I want you in my life.”

“Wait a minute, what did you just say?” When he looked at her blankly, she continued. “You said

you didn’t want to leave me. Why did you, then?”

His eyes widened the slightest bit but other than that, no outward reaction. “Because I had to,” he

said defensively. “Don’t look into it more than you should, Will. I mean it.”

“Why do I suddenly not believe you?” Icy cold uneasiness slipped through her, filling her with fear.

“Why did you leave, Nick? You told me that you wanted to be free. That we wouldn’t have worked

out.”

“We wouldn’t have.”

“According to who?” This didn’t feel right. He acted almost as if he wanted to…protect someone?

Or was she way off base and reading into his words too much?

“According to your…” He clamped his lips shut and shook his head, as if he was about to reveal

something she didn’t want to hear but then decided against it.

It all became clear. She knew the answer. And she didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t tell me my dad

said something to make you break up with me.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” He shrugged nonchalantly, looking anything but nonchalant.

“Which means he did.” Closing her eyes, she hung her head again, breathing deep. Trying to gather

her messy emotions before they spilled all over the place. “Right?”

He was silent for so long, she cracked open her eyes to find him watching her, his mouth hard, his

eyes dark. He looked furious. “He found out about us a week before we split. Kept hounding me,

telling me to leave you alone and end it. And when I didn’t make a move, he said he would end it for

me by going to you himself.”

Swallowing hard, she tried to speak, but the words were clogged in her throat.

“So I did it. As much as it killed me, I broke it off. I didn’t want him making up whatever lies to get

you to leave me first. He told me again and again I wasn’t worth shit and if I knew what was good for

me, I’d get my dirty paws off his daughter and never talk to her again. I guess after hearing it enough, I

started to believe it.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I’m sure he wasn’t that harsh.”

“Darlin’, trust me. I’m sugarcoating it for you.”

She stared at him in disbelief, and he stared back, not saying a word. Not denying his words or her

father’s either. “Why would he do that?” she finally asked, her voice a harsh whisper.

“He didn’t like me.” He shrugged. “He was trying to protect you? You’re his only child. Can’t

blame him I guess.”

“I don’t understand why he would hate you so much and want us apart.” She slowly shook her head.

“He deals with athletes all the time.” Realization dawned the moment the words fell from her lips.

Of course her father didn’t like them. The majority of his clients were professional athletes. His

opinion of them wasn’t always the best because he knew what they were really like. Having one

involved with his too young daughter had probably set him off. He’d always been so protective. She

was his only child; her mother was never a part of the picture. They were all each other ever had—

besides his string of ex-wives, and they really didn’t count.

And she’d done her best to keep her relationship with Nick a secret. Even from her best friend. She

knew her involvement with him would earn their disapproval.

Hell, she still did it now. Sneaking around, hoping like crazy her dad wouldn’t find out she was

seeing Nick again. Why couldn’t she be honest with him?

“I don’t think he’s much of a fan of my peers, if you know what I mean,” Nick drawled. “He deals

with us. Takes our money if we need his help. And I’ll give it to him: Walter Cavanaugh is a damn

good lawyer. He just doesn’t like the thought of ‘my kind’ messing with his little girl.”

How backwards could her father be? All these years she blamed Nick—callous, cold-hearted, love

’em and leave ’em Nick—when all along, her father had been behind their breakup. “So you left me

because my father made you. And now you’re back, bound and determined to use whatever you have

to get back into my bed.” Pain lanced through her, sharp and deep.

“No. Hell, no. I was hurt. Pissed,” Nick said, his voice scary soft. “Us being together has nothing to

do with your father and everything to do with me and you. You know this, right? I mean, come on. You

gotta know this. Or do you think I’m set on getting back at your dad by toying with you again? Because

if you do, then you don’t know me at all.”

“I don’t know what to think. I’m scared, Nick. Scared to hand you my heart only for you to stomp

all over it again.” She scooted away from him, wishing he would leave. Her skin was cold, her heart

broken. She couldn’t trust him, ever. He hurt her every single time they were together.

How could she be so stupid?

“I don’t know how many times I can tell you that I’m a changed man before you believe me. But

maybe you’ll never believe me. You act like you don’t want anyone to know about us being together

anyway, so what did I expect?”

Nick was right. They hadn’t hid any of their dates, not really. But she hadn’t announced they were

together either, of course. She’d seen people she knew when they were out, which wasn’t much, since

they spent the majority of their time behind closed doors naked. And of course, they’d indulged in

their one crazy night together at the Wharf, when he’d taken her on the roof of that restaurant where

anyone could’ve seen them, for the love of God. She’d ignored the risks of getting caught, forgetting

everything but the way he made her feel.

And God, could he make her feel.

Had he done it on purpose, though? Convincing her to have sex in a public place…all in the hopes

that maybe her father—or anyone, for that matter—would somehow find out about it? Not that locals

hung out on the Wharf or anything, but still.

“You’re ashamed of me,” he said, his voice deathly quiet. “Don’t bother denying it. You’re hiding

this from your dad, from everyone.”

“That’s not true,” she started, but he silenced her with a look.

“I want you in my life but not like this. Not if we’re keeping secrets from each other still,” he said.

“You want me in your life?” She could not believe this was happening. “And you want me to trust

you? Are you kidding?”

“I’m definitely not kidding,” he answered, his expression calm, his gaze turbulent.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her agitated nerves. “Fine. You want to be with me? How

about you come with me and my dad to Aspen for the New Year?” She threw the offer out, not

meaning it. She had no plans on spending it with her father, but she wanted to see what Nick would

say.

Her dad would probably kill her for bringing Nick. And prior to this major confession, she hadn’t a

clue there was any animosity between them.

How in the dark had she been these last few years?

Nick grimaced. “Hell no. I don’t want to ring in the New Year with Walter Cavanaugh.” He

practically spit out her dad’s name.

“Right, because you’re with me out of some sort of twisted revenge, and you’re trying to get back at

my father,” she threw back at him.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. “I’m not, Will. I swear to God. I want you. But not

like this.”

Not like this. Meaning he wanted her to change or disown her father or…God. She had no idea

what he wanted from her.

“You should go,” she said, dropping her gaze so she didn’t have to look at him any longer. It was

painful, letting him go.

Again.

“You want me to leave.” His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

“Yes.” She nodded and chanced a glance at him, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

He looked upset. Angry. More than anything, he looked sad. Defeated.

“No matter what, I can’t win with you, huh?” He blew out a heavy breath. “I’m honest with you and

you tell me to leave anyway.”

“Did you just hear yourself? Everything you said?” She refused to feel guilty for pushing him away.

He deserved the push.

He asked for the push.

“I know it sounds bad but it’s not. I swear to God, darlin’. I care about you. I want you back in my

life on a permanent basis.”

“You say you do, but then you go and admit the only reason we’re together in the first place is

because you blackmailed me into going out on dates so you can get back at my father. And that’s all

sorts of messed up, you know?”

“I never freaking said that. You put words in my mouth.”

“How can I trust you?” She let out a shuddery exhale. “Even if we did get back together, it’s always

going to lurk in the dark corners of my mind that you’ll leave me.”

“You have zero faith in me, huh? I can’t ever get past what happened when I wasn’t even the one

who wanted to break up. Your father threatened me. Told he he’d ruin my career, ruin my life. I was

young and dumb and scared shitless.”

“Your career was worth more than me,” she whispered.

“Fuck yes, it was! I worked practically my entire life to make it into the NFL! My parents were

counting on it. My friends were counting on it. My entire damn hometown was counting on it, and I

didn’t want to fuck it up. I only just met you, Will. You were so beautiful and sweet and smart and

every time I touched you, you responded like I was the best thing that ever happened to you. The only

thing that ever happened to you. I—I was so fucking in love with you but I didn’t realize it then. I

wanted you, but I couldn’t disappoint my family. I couldn’t let go of my dream.”

“Couldn’t let go of your dream for the girl you loved? I…I get it.” She did get it. Her heart cramped

with his admission. He’d loved her. She’d loved him. They’d never said it to each other once. She

would’ve killed to hear those words drop from his too perfect, too sexy lips. She just did. But he’d

said it in past tense.

He wasn’t in love with her now.

“That’s not fair—” he started but she cut him off.

“Life isn’t fair,” she countered.

“You’ll never let me back in, will you? I fucked up. And I can’t guarantee I won’t do it again but I

swear to God, I’m a better man now that I have you back in my life. You’ve changed me. I know what

I want.” His eyes softened. “And I want you.”

“I want to believe you,” she whispered. “Really I do.”

They remained silent for so long she was afraid to look at him. She kept her focus on her lap once

more, sitting cross-legged on the bed, having the most important discussion of her life, and it was

crumbling right before her eyes.

The mattress shifted as Nick climbed out of the bed and she looked up, watched as he slipped on

his clothes methodically, his expression grim, his eyes dark with anger.

Shock coursed through her. Had she ever seen him look that mad? “So you’re leaving?”

“Isn’t that what you want? This isn’t going to work and you know it. I’m honest with you, and you

still toss it back in my face. You can’t even trust me to fucking stay with you.” He slipped on his

jeans, zipped, and snapped them closed. “I was twenty-one. Twenty-stupid-one and you won’t ever

let me forget how I tossed you aside like yesterday’s trash. You don’t think that bothers me? That I

don’t beat myself up for it every single day? I hate that I hurt you so much. I hate that you didn’t know

how much I wanted to stay with you when your father pushed me right out of your life. And I was too

much of a pussy to tell him to fuck off and be with you anyway. I was in love with you, Will. I bet you

didn’t know that, huh?”

No way did he just say that again.

“I left and I felt empty without you. Only you could make me whole, but you were off-limits. So life

went on. I played ball, I traveled a lot, and I met a bunch of women. My life turned into one big,

never-ending party. Girls just wanted to get with me, you know?”

She flinched. “I don’t want to hear about all your other girls.”

“Fine. You’re right. They don’t matter. You’re the only girl who matters. You’ll always be the only

girl who matters to me. But I guess I fucked it up too much to make it work. So I’m outta here.”

He fled her bedroom, and she scrambled out, following right behind him, still clutching the sheet to

her naked body. “So this is how it’s going to end?” Why did she just ask that? And why did she want

him to stay? He used her. Everything he said she couldn’t take at face value. He was a liar.

He was in love with you. He probably still is. And you’re in love with him.

She stopped short, her lips parted, the words dying to fall from her tongue. But she clamped her

mouth shut before she could say them and make a fool of herself.

“Yep.” He wouldn’t even look at her. Just headed straight toward her door with all the

determination of a pissed off bull looking again for that flash of red. “Just know that I’m not the only

one behind our first breakup. Remember that.”

Her heart twisted. She could hardly wrap her head around the idea of her father telling Nick to

leave her alone. Was it the truth? It had to be. Nick wouldn’t lie to her about something like that.

“What about our remaining dates?” she called to him, wishing he would look at her. “We still have

three to go.”

“Consider them canceled.” He reached for the door handle and paused, his back still to her, his

shoulders hunched.

She had the sudden urge to run to him, to cling to his body and quietly beg him not to leave. Plead

with him to come back to bed so they could snuggle. Hell, she even wanted to…apologize. And she

rarely apologized.

What would she do without him? Just that quick, he’d wormed his way into her life—and heart—

and now just as quick, he was leaving her?

Typical.

“Then go,” she whispered. “Leave, like you’re so good at. I dealt with your abandonment before. I

can deal again.”

“That’s not fair.” His voice was ragged as he tipped his head down, hitting the door with a soft

thump.

“I never said I played fair. You never did either.” She closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears that

threatened, but it was no use. One slipped down her cheek, not that he would ever see it. He wouldn’t

even look at her. “Just go,” she whispered.

And he did.

…

“So what happened? Did you convince Willow to go back home with you for Christmas?” Harvey

asked hopefully.

They’d just come in from a particularly brutal practice. The last thing Nick wanted was to talk to

the overeager publicist. “Aren’t I Aubrey’s responsibility now?”

Harvey flashed him a smile. “She’s handling an interview for Foley at the moment. Besides, this

was our deal, right? So tell me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing’s going on.” Nick headed into the locker room, Harvey trailing after

him. “She’s not going with me, Harv, so quit following my ass.”

“She’s not going with you? Are you serious?” Harvey asked incredulously. “Damn it, I just sent out

a press release about your relationship.”

Of course he did. “Don’t I sound serious enough for you?”

Harvey stopped short when Nick turned on him. “What happened? Did she say no?”

“We split up,” Nick answered grimly. Hell, he didn’t know what else to say. How can two people

who were never really together break apart? He still couldn’t believe he’d confessed everything,

come clean with her, and she still pretty much tossed him out on his ass.

Well, he could believe it. He looked like a jerk for what he did. But his blackmail scheme had

quickly turned into something else. Something real. Brought all of those old dormant feelings he had

for Willow roaring back to the surface.

He was in love with her. And she hated him. Still blamed him for their split, even though her father

had played a heavy hand in their demise.

That hurt. And pissed him off. Though really the only person he could be angry at was himself.

“Now I have to rescind that press release. Hell.” Harvey ran a hand through his hair though not a

strand fell out of place. “Well, that’s a damn shame but seriously? She was never the one for you. Too

bossy, too tough. You were a miserable son of a bitch the entire time you were with her.”

Nick wanted to plow his fist into Price’s smug face. Christ, he was an asshole. “How do you even

know how long I was with her? Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“Take Aubrey. She’s more than willing to go, I’m sure.”

“I am not taking that sweet girl to go meet my parents under false pretenses. Hell no.” Nick shook

his head.

“Listen.” Harvey glanced around, making sure no one was paying them any attention, and no one

was. Players tended to scatter when Harvey was in the locker room. “I think the two of you would

make a fabulous, for real couple. Give her a chance.”

Nick scrubbed a hand across his jaw, suddenly weary with all the bullshit. Beyond weary. More

like completely intolerant. “Did Aubrey put you up to this? Is she crushin’ on me or something?”

“Of course not.”

“Then stop. Just stop with the matchmaking or whatever the hell you want to call it. Makes no damn

sense, Harvey. You get Jared and Sheridan hooked up and now you think we all need someone by our

side? I don’t get it.”

“I think she’s sweet and funny and would tolerate your ass. Much easier than Willow Cavanaugh,”

Harvey sneered.

“Say one more bad thing about her and I’ll knock you on your ass,” Nick threatened, his voice tight.

“Whoa, sorry there, tiger. Didn’t realize you still had a thing for her.” Harvey shook his head.

“It’s only been a few days, asshole. Of course I still have a thing for her.” He blinked. Hard. Damn,

he would always have a thing for her.

Why did it take him this long to realize it?

“But why?” When Nick cocked his hand back, ready to sock Harvey in the mouth, the publicist

threw his hands up in front of him. “I’m only asking because the entire time you two were secretly

together, you were a grump. The fans were concerned. They missed their happy-go-lucky Nick.”

Letting his arm fall to his side, he thought about what Harvey said. He’d been a grump because at

first, the sexual frustration was getting to him. Then, Willow herself started getting to him. Until

finally, he flat out missed her when he didn’t have her around.

Damn it, he wanted what Jared and Sheridan had. He wanted Willow at the games, giving him a

good luck kiss before he ran out to the field, cheering him on. He wanted her tough as nails and full of

sass, or soft and sweet and sexy as hell in his bed. More than anything, he wanted her to trust him that

he’d never screw it up.

“You know what’ll make me happy?”

Harvey’s eyes lit up. Nick would bet a million dollars he thought he had the answer. “What?”

“Having Willow by my side, as a permanent part of my life. That’s the only thing that would make

me truly happy,” Nick said grimly.

“Not even a potential Super Bowl win could cheer you up? I have a feeling we’re going all the

way. It’s looking good so far.”

Speculation was high and they still had two playoff games to go. Nick believed deep in his heart it

could happen, too, but he refused to even talk about the possibility for fear of jinxing them. He was

superstitious as hell. They all were. “There’s a lot of time between now and the freaking Super Bowl,

Price. So stop talking like that.” Shaking his head, he turned away from Harvey, dismissing him

without a word.

After he changed he fled the locker room, acknowledging no one, not even Jared. He wasn’t in the

mood to talk. He wasn’t in the mood for anything but Willow and since that wasn’t going to happen

any time soon, he was headed home. To the shitty condo he owned nearby with the lacking furniture,

the blank walls, and the giant TV. He’d watch some SportsCenter and go to bed because…yeah.

That’s all he had now. And wasn’t that pitiful as shit?

“Hey Nick, can I talk to you?” called a voice from behind him as he headed out to the parking lot.

Nick inwardly groaned. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. “Not now, Foley. I’m in a hurry.”

Flynn jogged over so he walked beside him. “Ah, come on. It’ll only take a minute. It’s just one

question.”

Nick stopped, turning so he faced Foley. Might as well get this over with. “Shoot.”

“Well, I’ve overheard some talk coming from the publicity camp. What’s this about you and

Aubrey?” Flynn lifted an expectant brow, his gaze intent as he waited for Nick to answer.

Nick frowned. “What about me and Aubrey?”

“Are you two seeing each other?” Foley didn’t move so much as a muscle. In fact, he held Nick’s

stare, looking downright territorial.

Interesting.

“What if we were?” Nick contemplated Flynn. He was a good-looking kid. Sorta shy with the

women, which of course, the women loved. He was fast gaining a legion of female fans. Word on the

street was that he was a freaking virgin and the women ate that up with a spoon.

The idea of de-virginizing the virgin stud football player got a lot of women hot, apparently.

Flynn clearly wasn’t amused. “Well, are you or aren’t you seeing her? It’s a simple question.”

Nick wanted to laugh. Flynn Foley was clearly irritated with the idea that he and Aubrey could be

seeing each other. Was Flynn hot for the new publicist? He never seemed hot for any woman. “We’re

not seeing each other.”

A smile flickered on Flynn’s face. “Really?”

“Really. That’s just Harvey talking out his ass.” Nick shoved at Flynn’s shoulder. “You like her?”

“I, uh…”

“Tell me the truth. You like her?”

Flynn shrugged, his cheeks ruddy, looking mighty pleased as he smiled. Was the dude blushing?

Jesus. He needed lessons and stat. “Maybe.”

“Well, don’t ever give her that wishy washy shit, playing like you like her then acting like she

doesn’t matter. Women hate it. Learn from my mistakes, man. You like a woman, go after her. Tell her

how you feel, and don’t get all scared when it turns serious. Got it?”

“Sure. Yeah. Thanks Nick.” Flynn nodded, breaking out into a smile. “I appreciate the advice.”

“Anytime,” Nick said, meaning it.

Of course, if Foley were smart, he wouldn’t take Nick’s advice. He didn’t get the girl, no matter

how hard he tried.

He was an absolute failure in the love department. But for once, he wanted to succeed. He wanted

to win the ultimate prize.

His girl. Willow.

Chapter Fourteen

The phone rang and rang, ending with her father’s rich voice instructing her to leave a message.

Scowling, Willow disconnected then hit redial and let it ring again. What do you know, voice mail

time. She called again, determined to get through to him. She’d been stewing over Nick’s revelation

for days. She needed an explanation.

Finally, finally he answered.

“Are you all right?” her father greeted her breathlessly. She would bet anything he’d been out on the

ski slopes, having the best time ever while she wallowed in her misery, so angry with the men in her

life she could hardly see straight. “What’s going on?”

He also sounded frantic. Upset. Good. She felt the same way. “I need to know something.”

“What?” Now he just sounded confused.

She glanced around her bedroom from where she sat in the middle of the bed. The scene of the

crime, so to speak. It had been a few days since Nick had been there. Since she last saw him, talked to

him, felt him move over her, within her…

God, she missed him. Not that she’d ever give in and call him.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it all out. “Did you really tell Nick Hamilton to

stop seeing me years ago?”

Dead silence greeted her.

“You did, didn’t you.” She didn’t ask it as a question. There was no need. His answer was in his

non-answer.

“Willow, you were nineteen years old with stars in your eyes. The very last thing I wanted was you

getting involved with some egotistical football player who would cheat on you and make you

miserable. Take you away from the only home you ever knew, force you to travel around and watch

all of those crazed groupies try to jump him. I knew you would hate it.” He let out a harsh breath. “I

was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? You didn’t even talk to me about it. Just went behind my back and told him to stay

away from me,” she accused.

“You didn’t tell me about your little relationship with Nick either, you know. One of my clients saw

you out with him and said some Hawks football player was slobbering all over my young daughter.”

His voice actually shook, he sounded so upset. “I was livid. You snuck around with him all summer

and never told me. Not once. Out with some stupid, womanizing football player who would’ve

broken your heart in two if given the chance. I had to do something,” he said, his voice rising.

Closing her eyes, she fell back onto the bed. She so didn’t want to be having this confrontation. It

all happened years ago and though she still wished he’d talked to her first, she knew she should be

thanking her father for at least trying to protect her. She and Nick probably wouldn’t have worked out

anyway. Something would’ve happened and their relationship would’ve blown up into a complete

mess.

But what if…it had worked out? They could be married with babies by now.

Why did the idea of having Nick’s babies make her heart flutter? This was ridiculous.

“I know you were trying to protect me,” she said softly. “And I know I was young. The way you

went about it was wrong, though, Dad. You used intimidation tactics and lawyer-speak and got him so

flustered, he bailed on me. The things he said when he broke it off…I thought I would die, he was so

mean.” He’d acted like he didn’t care. She’d been so confused.

“I never told him to be mean, Willow. I asked that he end it with you and quick. That’s all,” her dad

said. “And how did you find out about this now?”

“He’s resented what you did to him for years.” She paused, thinking of all the time that passed, the

opportunities lost. It was almost too painful to linger over so she pushed it aside. It was easier that

way. “I’ve been seeing him again, Daddy. He told me what happened.”

“He told you? Why are you seeing him again?”

She couldn’t confess the truth, how it all went down. No way, no how. Her dad would hit the roof if

he knew Nick blackmailed her into dating him so she could get the building for her business. Talk

about unethical. Her father the attorney would have a coronary. “I like him, Dad. I think I might even

be…in love with him.” Great. So her dad was the first person she told that she might be in love with

Nick. So not the way she wanted to do this.

No answer from her father either, which made her uneasy. Fidgety. Her leg wouldn’t stop moving,

her knee bouncing up and down—a nervous habit she’d had when she was a kid.

Looked like she still had it.

“He admitted to me everything that happened between you. He was just trying to be honest with me.

He didn’t want any secrets between us and I…I still got mad at him.” A tear streaked down her cheek

and she swiped at it angrily. Since when did she cry over a man? It hadn’t happened since…the last

time she was with Nick. Great. “I couldn’t stand the idea of the two of you conspiring behind my back

and deciding what was best for me. I was a grown woman and you handled my life like I was still a

little kid.”

“You were all of nineteen, Willow, and hardly out of high school. He was two years older,

charming, and good looking. I couldn’t stand the thought of my only child being at the mercy of a man

who would eventually leave her. So I made it happen earlier rather than later.”

“Great, so you think you did me a favor,” she said.

“I did! You should be thanking me. I saved you from months, if not years of constant heartache.”

Since when had her life turned into such a soap opera? Nothing but drama and secrets and lies.

Blackmail and hot sex. Tender moments and sex in public and sweet, drugging kisses from a man she

was desperately, madly in love with.

And she let him walk away. Walk out of her life because she was angry and had her pride.

Stupid, useless pride.

“Believe what you need to believe,” Willow murmured. “It’s probably easier to think that way.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” he started to ask but she hung up on him, tired of arguing.

Tired of talking about it.

…

“We’re losing.”

Nick took a swig of water, glaring at Jared. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Jared glanced around the locker room, taking in all the sad and defeated faces, no doubt. They were

losing by a large margin—two touchdowns and a field goal—and it was killing every single one of

them. Especially since it was against a team they’d already beat once earlier in the season.

Demolished them, more like.

It was as if the other team was out for vengeance. Probably were. They had a fire in their bellies

that couldn’t be contained and unfortunately, no one on the Hawks was feeling the same fire. Except

for Nick. He was on fire, angry that the woman he was in love with didn’t feel the same.

“You’re on top of your game, though,” Jared noted, pulling Nick from his thoughts.

“Yeah, well, wish everyone else would cooperate.” Coach Walsh had just finished giving them a

speech to end all speeches, trying to get across just how badly they needed this win.

The end of their playoff run was looming, creating a tense atmosphere that caused everyone to feel

the pressure, including Nick, who’d spent the first half of the game playing like a crazed mother

fucker.

All for nothing.

“I have a plan.” Jared studied him intently, his gaze dark, his jaw tight. “But I need your

cooperation.”

Well, well. Nick was certainly intrigued. Anything to get his mind off of his fucked-up love life, if

he could even call what he had with Willow a love life. A sex life, oh yeah. But he wanted more.

He wanted it all.

“I’m listening,” Nick said, keeping his voice low. This wasn’t the first time Jared had come to him

with a plan, and they usually ended up running the other team ragged and winning the entire game.

“I’m going to need you to be on top of it. I know you’re tired. You’ve been running this entire time

and I’ll keep you running in the second half if I have my way. But we can make this work and kick

their asses. I feel it. We just need to get into a rhythm.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Nick encouraged, and Jared proceeded to do exactly that. And the

more Jared talked, the more Nick came on board. A team’s quarterback was usually their leader, and

Jared was no exception. He was by far the best leader any team could ask for. He not only helped

them all reach success with intelligent plays, he brought the team together as one cohesive unit.

He was also a nice guy and treated everyone fairly. Had a few lady problems in his past but the

love of a good woman—Sheridan—straightened him up right and good. Now the bastard was on top

of the world and nothing could keep him down. Not even this damn game they were losing. If he

decided they were gonna win it, then damn it, the man could make it happen.

If Nick thought about it too long and hard, he could end up jealous. Jared Quinn had it all. And at

this very moment, Nick felt as if he had nothing.

Once they’d gone over their plan and talked with a few other teammates, they went back out to play

the second half, where they boldly ran onto that field full of confidence and scored almost

immediately. It was as if every member of the Hawks finally grew their balls back and remembered

how to play.

Nick reveled in the rush of his team scoring a field goal. Then out of nowhere, in a mighty struggle,

they scored a touchdown. By the end of the fourth quarter, they were only one touchdown away, and

the Hawks were once again in possession of the ball.

In a no-huddle offense, Jared was giving him that look. The one that said he wanted to pass the ball

to Nick in the next play. The subtle nod, the flick of his head, it was all a signal Jared gave that Nick

recognized immediately. Sometimes he waited anxiously for it. Other times, his gut twisted, and he

worried he wouldn’t be able to catch the miracle throw that would come after Jared shouted the play

call.

Well, bring it . Didn’t feel any nerves or worry over that fuckin’ ball today. He was revved up,

anxious, ready to play his ass off yet again. Hell, he’d been going at maximum speed the entire game,

smiling big for the fans as they cheered him on, nodding in agreement with whatever the coaches told

him to do.

Scary how he didn’t have Willow in his life again and he played…better? His personal life was a

wreck but his professional life was back on top. And so that meant he played a better game? Made no

damn sense.

More than anything, it scared the hell out of him.

“Get your head outta your ass, Hamilton, and get ready!” Jared screamed at him as they got into

position.

“Yes boss.” Nick crouched as he got into position, his brain going blank, his focus on this very

moment. Jared called his play; everyone shifted and moved, the other team coming at them like they

wanted to tear them apart.

Nick ran, turning so he could see Jared. The QB was poised, ready. He searched the field until he

spotted Nick and then he reared his arm back, the ball sailing through the air so precisely Nick gained

a few feet before he turned, his arms out and cradled, ready to catch that damn ball.

It landed in his hands as if it had a magnet nestled within and his palms were made of steel.

No one was around. Not a single damn soul, and so he took off. Headed straight down the field, the

home crowd’s roaring growing louder, the roar of his own blood pounding in his ears. He picked up

speed, almost afraid to glance up at the Jumbotron for fear he’d see someone was hot on his tail.

But he heard nothing except his own breaths and the rumble from the stands, and he knew he was

gonna score.

Nick ran across the line and did a little victory dance, his other teammates coming at him, all of

them jumping up and down in victory, slapping his ass, calling him names. Adrenaline coursed

through him as he jogged off the field, high-fiving whoever held out his hand, running into Jared’s

embrace, laughing as Jared clutched him close and rapped his knuckles on the side of Nick’s helmet.

“Knew you had that one, man. Fucking amazing,” Jared said, shaking his head as he stepped away.

“You’re the one who threw the ball into my hands like you knew where I was all along. How the

hell do you do that shit?” Nick yanked off his helmet and grinned.

Jared shrugged, his usual modest self. “We’re a good team,” he said simply.

Hell yeah, they were.

The Hawks went on to win it, no surprise. Their defensive line was one of the best in the league,

and they held the opposing team for those last two minutes, winding down the clock until victory was

theirs.

Yet another defining moment in Nick’s career. The media bombarded him with questions. ESPN

interviewed him. The local channel’s head sports guy kept him on the mic for almost five minutes. He

felt like a fuckin’ superstar.

He felt empty.

Watching Sheridan smother Jared with kisses made him realize that what he really wanted was his

woman back in his life. For good. He was tired of the fight. Tired of letting her go without protest.

Sick and damn tired of giving up too damn easy. For once, he was gonna fight for what he wanted.

Who he wanted.

And he wanted Willow.

He’d always wanted Willow.

Chapter Fifteen

“This party is off the chain!”

Willow barely restrained her eye rolling and smiled at the drunk woman gyrating in front of the bar.

“A drink, miss?”

“Hell yeah! Give me another one of those bed head drinks!” The woman wouldn’t stop screaming,

but maybe that was because the music was so damn loud. Willow had a headache, and they were

barely halfway through the bachelorette party for Amanda Whitmore.

Willow waved her hand at Colby, the kid she’d hired to work for her on the weekends. He was her

resident bartender, considering he had extensive experience leading boozy parties at his fraternity.

No joke. She hired him for his frat party experience. The kid could handle drunken women with

ease.

“What’s up boss?” He grinned, looking quite pleased as he scanned the room. It was wall to wall

with people, the majority of them attractive women in their twenties, and Willow was sure he thought

he’d landed smack dab in the middle of heaven.

“Make this lady another bed head cocktail.” Willow leaned in close to Colby so only he could hear

her. “And make sure you use half the alcohol it calls for. She’s beyond hammered.”

“Got it.” He nodded and went to work making the drink, engaging the loud woman in small talk.

Willow watched the people, her head sweating as she pushed the synthetic hair away from her face.

She still couldn’t believe she was wearing the damn wig. Somehow Amanda had convinced her father

that their new venture needed a small line of novelty-type wigs, and somehow Phil Whitmore had

convinced Willow to wear one. More like begged her to, since he believed it would help business if

she wore a product from the newly opened Wig It.

So here she stood, hot as hell in her requisite black outfit she wore for the more formal events, her

black glasses on and her thick hair tucked beneath a neon pink wig that curled around her face and

made her cheeks look fat.

Shit. The lengths a woman went to for a paycheck.

The countersigned paperwork for the lease on the building had arrived just before she left for

Vegas, the lower lease price included and everything, just as he promised—reminding her that yes, he

was a good guy. And yes, she was an idiot for letting him go.

At least work had been keeping her so busy she went home every night exhausted and collapsing

into bed. Didn’t leave her much time to dwell on how much she missed Nick.

Her heart ached just thinking his name. She missed him, but she refused to contact him. Besides, he

was just as busy. And he was probably on a plane by now on his way home to see his mama for the

holidays.

She rubbed her forehead, the fake hair making it itch. She’d give anything to chuck the stupid wig

and flush it down the toilet.

“The party is a smashing success, don’t you think?”

Willow glanced up to find Phil standing in front of the bar, a big smile on his face. “I can’t believe

how many people came,” she said.

“I must agree. After all, it’s right before Christmas. But I think they all like the idea of getting away

for a quick Vegas weekend before the family insanity starts.” He winked at her, and she smiled in

return. “Plus, they’re all eager to check out our new business. We’ve already pulled in a steady

amount of sales.”

She couldn’t freaking believe it. The wigs were cheesy and the extensions weren’t the best quality,

but they were actually sort of fun. Like her pink hair, she supposed.

“Thanks for wearing the wig,” he said for about the tenth time. “I know it’s hot.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I tried to get Mandy to wear one but she refused.”

“Mr. Whitmore, it’s her bachelorette party. The last thing she wants to do is wear a wig,” Willow

chastised.

He shook his head. “She said the same exact thing.” Sighing, he watched his daughter dancing in the

middle of the room, her hands in the air. “She hasn’t worked a single minute tonight besides standing

next to the table of products and smiling for a few photographs.”

Willow said nothing. Was the man surprised? He knew what he was getting into when he made this

arrangement.

“At least you seem to be an enterprising young woman. I’m sure your father is very proud of you,”

Phil said with a nod.

“Thank you, sir.” Surprisingly, she realized she missed her dad, though she shouldn’t be surprised

considering it was the holidays, and who else would she spend them with? Funny how she could

forgive him for his faults so quickly yet hold a grudge against Nick for what felt like forever. Whereas

Nick had seemingly ditched her as fast as he could, her dad had always been there for her. They were

a team, the two of them. They always had been.

Yeah, he’d ruined her relationship with Nick, but he’d done it to protect her. She could forgive him

for that. Ultimately, they were all each other had.

She wished she were with him. With no Christmas Day plans scheduled whatsoever, she wasn’t

quite sure what she would do. Sheridan had extended the expected invitation but Willow hadn’t

committed.

Maybe it would be better if she were alone so she could sulk and wallow in her thoughts and her

loss.

Damn it, she wanted Nick back. She missed him so much her entire body ached with wanting him.

He made her laugh. He made her angry. He made her smile. Oh, and he made her pant out his name

when she came…

Yeah. She flat out missed him. Had never really stopped missing him, even after all of these years.

But this breakup was even worse, because she knew he felt the same way. They were too stubborn,

too fucked up to make it happen for real.

Sighing, she shook her head. Fine, she was the one who screwed it up. Who was too scared to give

him a second chance. She couldn’t blame him for walking out. She would’ve done the same.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Phil said, interrupting her thoughts. “Though I did want to give you

this before I forgot.”

He handed over an envelope, which she took with a frown. “You already paid your balance, Mr.

Whitmore.”

“I know. It’s a bonus.” He flicked his chin at the crumpled envelope she clutched in her hands. “For

all your hard work.”

“Thank you.” She smiled tremulously as he walked away, then tore open the envelope and peeked

inside.

Holy. Shit. There had to be at least ten hundred dollar bills nestled within. Talk about generous.

“Let’s go hit the tables with all that cash,” Colby suggested, sidling up beside her after he served

yet another drunk woman.

“You wish.” She stuffed the envelope in her front pocket. “This all goes right back into the

business.”

“Party pooper,” Colby said with a smile then headed over to a cluster of people who had just

approached the bar.

A cheesy Christmas song came on, the DJ spinning the tunes cranking it up to near-deaf decibels,

and Willow realized one good thing about the wig: it muffled sound somewhat.

But not enough.

It seemed as if every partygoer was on the dance floor, jumping to the beat of the perky holiday

tune. Just watching them filled Willow with irritation, and she leaned against the bar counter, her

elbow resting on the edge, her chin propped on her curved hand. She was starving, and she was

exhausted, which made her even more irritated. Considering they still had hours to go, she was in for

a long night.

And then she had to turn around and fly home first thing tomorrow. Thank God, the flight wasn’t that

long, but why in the world had she scheduled it so early? And what was she going home to, anyway?

A cold, empty house? So depressing.

Merry freaking Christmas.

The cheery song segued from one to another by some boy band, and the crowd went wild, yelling

and screaming as they bounced up and down. Even Colby was dancing behind the counter, shaking his

head to the beat, mouthing the words to the song.

She wanted to roll her eyes but couldn’t be bothered with it. She’d turned into the ultimate Scrooge.

The crowd suddenly parted and more than a few people started chatting animatedly, waving their

hands, standing on tiptoe as if they were trying to see something. The song abruptly ended, and the

crowd stopped dancing as the DJ made an announcement.

“Looks like we have an unexpected special guest this evening, folks! San Jose Hawks football star,

Nick Hamilton!”

Willow’s arm went out from under her on the counter and she stood straight, glancing around the

room. Did the DJ really say Nick was here? But where? And what the hell was he doing here?

Anticipation rode through her, and she tried to squash it down. She was probably hallucinating. Just

because the man was constantly in her thoughts didn’t mean she could magically make him appear.

The crowd parted, and there he stood, like he was Moses or something, wearing jeans and his trusty

faded Hawks hoodie, his mouth grim, his hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes. He looked both

terrible and wonderful all at once.

He was the best thing she’d ever seen.

Wordlessly he approached her, his brows furrowed, his mouth curled down. He stopped just before

her, everyone watching them, the crowd silent. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

Even the boisterous DJ was quiet.

“Darlin’, is that you?” He tilted his head. “What the hell are you doing wearing that silly wig?”

…

Well, hell, what happened to his woman? She looked ridiculous in the pink wig, her cheeks flushed,

her eyes a little wild, sweat dotting her forehead.

She was hot—and not in the sexy, drive him wild way. No, Willow was literally hot. Sweating her

ass off hot.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice raspy.

“I came to find you,” he said simply, because really it was as simple as that.

He missed her. He wanted her back in his life. And he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Why?”

“We won our game today,” he said, changing the subject. He needed to tell her this. Needed to get

everything off his chest.

“That’s great,” she said, her brows scrunched in that way they got when she was confused.

“I scored the winning touchdown. Caught it and ran it down the field. Seventy-two-yard pass,” he

said proudly. It had been the fucking play of his life.

“That’s amazing.” The genuine smile she gave him made his heart lurch. Fuck, he would’ve killed

to see that smile only a few hours ago, and now here she was.

Wearing a pink wig? That sort of threw him.

“What’s up with the hair, Will?”

“I’ll explain later.” She waved a hand at the crowd—who were all still watching—then pointed at

the DJ. “Play a song, damn it! This is a party, people want to dance!”

The guy did as she asked, most of the crowd starting to move again, though a few still watched

them.

“So you came all the way to Vegas to tell me you won your game?” She sounded incredulous, not

that he could blame her.

“Well, that was part of it.” He’d been high as hell coming off that field. He’d felt like a damn hero.

He’d been ready to celebrate, on top of the world.

And missing his woman more than life itself.

She scratched her neck. He bet that wig itched like crazy. “Do you want to go somewhere and

talk?” she asked. “I mean, we’re surrounded right now.”

“I don’t care who hears what I have to say. I gotta get it off my chest.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve

missed you, Willow. More than I can say. When I won that game and came off the field, ready to

celebrate the play of my life, I felt…lost.”

She stared at him, not saying a word.

“I let you go before without a fight, like a coward. I let your father walk all over me, and I hate that.

Hate that I hurt you so bad.”

He took a deep breath, scared that she still wasn’t talking. His Willow loved to talk. Argue. Prove

him wrong. Maybe that she wasn’t speaking was a good sign?

“I’m ready to fight for you now. I want you to be mine. Only mine. I’m so damn sorry for what

happened. That you feel like I tried to force you into admitting we’re in a relationship when you

weren’t ready. That you believe I did this all like some sort of weird, twisted game where I used you

to get back at your dad or whatever. I wanted to earn your trust and instead, I tried to bully you into a

relationship, and you don’t work like that. No woman would.” He stepped closer, reaching out and

grabbing her hand. Her fingers were cold in his grip. “That’s the last time I leave you, even if you

kick me out the fucking door. My life is flat out not right without you by my side. You’re the best thing

that’s ever happened to me. I need you. I’m not complete without you.”

“Really?” she croaked.

He nodded, squeezed her hand. “Really. I knew I had to come right here and be with you.”

“But I thought— Aren’t you going home to be with your family for Christmas?” Her fingers

trembled as they clutched at his.

“My home is wherever you are.” He pulled her to him, slipping his arm around her waist, dipping

his head close to hers. “I love you. I can’t believe I didn’t just say this that last night we were

together, but I guess I had to be without you to realize the truth. And I know you love me. You’re just

scared. That’s how I know you’re crazy about me.”

Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, letting out a shaky laugh. “The most

romantic moment of my life and I look like an idiot with a pink wig on.”

“Here.” He plucked the wig off her head and tossed it over his shoulder, one of the partygoers

watching the entire interaction catching it with a whoop. “Now you look good.”

Well, sorta. Her hair was a mess, clinging to her head. But she was still the most beautiful woman

he’d ever seen.

“I look terrible.” She smoothed a hand over her head then swiped at her cheeks.

“Not to me. Never to me. Don’t know why you wear these, since you don’t even really need them.”

He plucked the glasses off her face, set them on the bar counter.

And then he kissed her, the tension that had filled him since he left her slowly easing as Willow

kissed him back. Sweet, simple kisses that sent heat rushing through his veins, made his head spin. “I

love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I’m so in love with you I’m never going to let you go again,

you got that?”

She laughed. Kissed him again. “You promise?”

“Only if you say the words back to me first.” He squeezed her, pulling her even closer.

“I love you, Nick,” she murmured. “I’m so in love with you. I’m never going to let you go again,

you got that?”

He laughed. “Smart ass.”

Grinning, she hugged him close, kissing him again. “You’re so incredibly rude, I don’t understand

what I see in you sometimes.”

“My rude qualities are your absolute favorite thing about me. Don’t you deny it, either.” He kissed

her again because now that he had her in his arms after being without her for too long, he might not

stop kissing her.

Ever.

“I love all your qualities,” she said, her eyes glowing, her voice soft. She smoothed his hair away

from his forehead, her gentle touch making him shiver. “I love you, Nicholas Hamilton.”

He grinned. “No one calls me Nicholas unless it’s my mama when she’s pissed at me about

something.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “You and your mama stories. When can I meet this brave woman who gave

birth to you?”

“Lucky you, I’m flying the entire family to my place for the holiday.” The idea had come to him

more than a week ago, and he’d called them up to see if they were willing. Then he’d immediately

booked the tickets when they all said they were dying to come to California and see him. Everyone

would be at his place in Carmel for Christmas, even his sister and her family.

Willow’s eyes went a little wide and she visibly swallowed. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. You ready to meet my mama, darlin’?” His parents were going to love her; he

just knew it.

“Oh, God.” She made a little face. “You think she’ll like me?”

“She will love you,” he said assuredly. “You two have plenty in common, trust me.”

“What? That we both love you and want the best for you?”

“Well, that’s a given.” He shrugged, smiling. “But my mama is feisty and crazy, just like you.”

“What? I should hit you for that remark,” she whispered.

“You won’t. You love me too much.” He murmured the words against her soft, damp lips as he

kissed her, wishing they were alone in her hotel room…

So he could have her naked in bed. Do whatever he wanted to her without an audience watching.

She smiled dreamily. “I like how you say that.”

“Wanna hear it again?” He kissed her nose.

“Yes, please,” she said primly.

Chuckling, he dipped his head, his mouth perfectly aligned with hers. “I love you, Willow,” he

murmured just before he kissed her. “You’re all mine.”

And for once in her life, she didn’t argue.

Epilogue

“She is the sweetest thing I ever did see, though she has a bit of a mouth on her,” Nick’s mother said,

her gaze locked on Willow as she went into his living room and settled on the couch beside his dad.

Nick laughed, shaking his head as he leaned over and pressed a kiss on his mom’s cheek. “She’s

just like you, Mama. Likes to argue and tussle and cause a big scene.”

“I can tell. You like her. She’s perfect for you.”

“I’m in love with her,” Nick said solemnly. “I think I’ve been in love with her since I was twenty-

one.”

“Took you long enough.” His mom jabbed him in the ribs, causing them both to laugh, and he

rubbed the top of her head, ruffling her perfectly curled hair and making her squeal.

It was the night after Christmas, and he had the most important people in his life surrounding him.

Jared and Sheridan had just left a while ago after coming over for dinner. His sister and her family

had also just left for the hotel Nick had put them up in. Willow was engrossed in a serious

conversation with his dad, and he had his other favorite lady sitting right next to him, smiling widely

while she stared at Willow as if his mama couldn’t keep her eyes off her.

“I think she’s going to fit in real well,” his mom finally declared with a finality that spoke of no

arguments. “You picked a fine woman to be with you, Nick. I can tell.”

Relief flooded him. Thank God his parents liked Willow. Bad enough he had to deal with Walter

Cavanaugh.

Which he could handle. He wasn’t scared. It was just a pain in the ass, knowing the woman he

wanted to marry had a father who really didn’t like him.

“Well, we best get to bed, considering you’re going to have to haul us to the airport bright and early

tomorrow morning.” His mom patted his knee affectionately. “Good night, dear.”

They all bade one another good night and went to their respective rooms, Nick turning out all the

lights as they headed down the hall, his gaze locked on Willow’s perfect ass as she walked ahead of

him.

He should be shot. Here she was, hugging his parents in front of their bedroom door, wishing them

good night, and all he could think about was jumping her naked bones the minute he got her behind

closed doors.

Which he did. For long, inventive hours he took his time with Willow, making her sweat and writhe

and moan and gasp. Those soft little gasps were some of the best noises in the world. And the way

she clutched at his shoulders while he buried himself deep inside her…

Yeah. He couldn’t get enough of that either.

“If we keep up this sort of pace, I’m going to be dead by the time I’m thirty,” Willow panted those

many hours later as she lay on her back beside Nick.

He grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers and giving her a squeeze. “What a way to go, though,

right?”

She laughed, the sound quiet. He straight wore her out, didn’t he? “I like your parents.”

“I know.” She’d said it often enough since she’d first met them, which pleased him to no end. “They

like you too.”

“Do they really?”

She seemed to really sweat that. He ought to ease her worried mind and make this official and all.

Finally. “Of course they do. They adore you. My mama thinks you’re just like her at her age.”

“I’m hoping that’s a compliment,” Willow said wryly.

“The best sort of one.” Releasing her hand, he reached over and opened the bedside table drawer,

pulling out a small box. He handed it over to her, dropping the black velvet box into Willow’s open

hand and giving her a nod. “Open it.”

“W-what is this?” Her voice trembled, her hand was shaky as she slowly opened the box. “Oh

God.”

Inside sat a simple princess cut three-carat diamond. Fitting, since she was his princess, his queen,

his everything. “What do you think it is?” he teased.

She shook her head slowly. “No way I—”

“If you say no, you’re going to send me straight into total despair.” He rolled over so he was on top

of her, the ring box nestled between them, her hand trapped against his chest. “I want you to marry me,

Will. Be my bride. Be my wife. Let’s have six kids and grow old together. What do you say?”

“Six kids? Are you crazy?”

“Fine. We’ll have five,” he said, compromising.

“Four,” she countered, her gaze still locked on the ring within the tiny box.

He slowly shook his head. “Always arguing with me, aren’t you?”

She glanced up, her eyes shiny with tears, her lower lip quivering. “You wouldn’t have me any

other way.”

“You got that right.” He bent his head, delivering a soft kiss to her lips before he pulled away

slightly. Reaching between them, he plucked the ring from the box and reared up on his knees. He

grabbed her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger, pleasure piercing his chest when he saw how

perfect that ring looked on her finger.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, holding out her hand, her fingers splayed.

“You’re beautiful. Marry me. Say yes.”

Willow smiled so brightly it damn near stole his breath. “Fine. I’ll give in. Yes.”

He thought he might explode with happiness. Leaning in, he kissed her again. Deep, hot, wet kisses

that left him dizzy, left her whimpering. “I plan on making you scream that particular word for the rest

of the night.”

“How about for the rest of my life?” she murmured against his lips.

“Deal.”

Acknowledgments

To my editor, Stacy Abrams, and to Heather Howland—I love writing for Brazen, and I’m thankful

you both believe in this series. To all the amazing authors I’ve met since I started writing for

Entangled—I’ve made a lot of new friends and I feel incredibly lucky that I have those friendships.

To my family, who’ve had to put up with me becoming pretty much nonexistent this entire year, locked

away in my office, typing typing typing, writing writing writing. Your patience is beyond appreciated,

and I love you all.

And to all the readers and bloggers and reviewers—I would be nothing without you. Seriously.

Thank you for all of your support. It means the world to me.

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling romance author Karen Erickson writes what she loves to read—sexy,

contemporary romance and sensual, historical romance. She has been digitally published since 2006

and when she’s not busily writing on deadline, she enjoys reading, hanging out with her family, and

traveling. A native Californian, she lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three

children, the dog, and too many cats. She is the author of the Lone Pine Lake series,

Jane’s Gift

and

Tempting Cameron

, and she’s also known as New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy.

Visit her at

www.karenerickson.com

.

Never bet against an athlete when they’re playing to win...

Game for Marriage

the first book in the Game for It series by USA TODAY bestselling author Karen Erickson

He’s going in deep to make her his…

Struggling artist Sheridan Harper never imagined she’d spend a sizzling night with Jared Quinn, the

smoking-hot star quarterback of her local professional football team, the San Jose Hawks. And she’s

even more shocked when Jared’s publicist offers her a proposition: a fake marriage to keep Jared out

of the gossip mags. Being that close to Jared would be too tempting, so to protect her heart, she insists

on secretly including a clause forbidding sex between them.

Jared just wants to keep his starting QB job and keep it in San Jose. His reputation as a ladies’ man

has landed him in the headlines one too many times, but there’s something about his kind, passionate

new wife that tempts him beyond reason. Any sort of intimacy between them is completely forbidden,

but as their bodies fall in deep, will their hearts follow suit?

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Also releasing this month...

Falling for the Marine

the next book in the McCade Brothers series by bestselling author Samanthe Beck

Pretending to be in love has never felt so sexy.

USMC helicopter pilot Michael McCade has two goals: Get his damn back into alignment and keep

his nose clean until his commanding officer clears him to fly again. The doctor-recommended

massage therapy seems like a necessary step toward returning to the cockpit, but when his too-hot-to-

handle neighbor, Chloe Kincaid, turns out to be his masseuse, he strays from the straight and narrow

in a major way.

Chloe Kincaid is looking for a simple, no strings attached, ego-boosting hook up. But when her

positively panty-melting neighbor, USMC Major Michael McCade, (aka “Major Hottie”), shows up

on her massage table, she lets desire get the better of professionalism. Now they’re pretending to be

engaged to avoid a whole lot of unanticipated consequences of a momentary lapse in judgment. But

can a girl who avoids attachments at all costs fake an engagement to a straight-arrow soldier without

falling hard?

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Also releasing this month...

Wilde for Her

the second book in the Wilde Security series by romantic suspense author Tonya Burrows

Friends with benefits just got hotter.

Former homicide detective Camden Wilde has been in love with his ex-partner, Eva Cardoso, for

longer than he cares to admit. Not that it matters. She’s shoved him into the friend zone, and after

living through the hell of his parents’ violent deaths, Ca m’s unable to give her the idyllic life she

secretly desires.

Eva’s never met a person who hasn’t let her down. Cam may be sex personified, but he’s the only

man she can trust, and there’s no way she’ll risk their friendship on the off-chance they could be more.

Especially not after the one scintillating night she’s trying—and failing—to forget.

When a murder-for-hire contract on his head lands Eva on his doorstep, Cam knows it’s time to put

up or shut up. He’s done biding his time, and he’ll be damned if he lets the delectable detective ignore

what’s between them, no matter the cost.

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Also releasing this month...

Down the Aisle

a Dare Me series novella by Christine Bell

She thought their future together would be easy…

Lacey Garrity is about to have the wedding she’s always dreamed of. She and Galen had planned on a

big family, but now fertility issues are turning that dream to ashes. When another setback comes to

light a week before their wedding day, she wonders how she can marry him knowing that being with

her might mean he can never have the life he imagined…

Galen Thomas loves his woman, and whether they have a big family or it’s just the two of them

forever, he can’t wait to spend his life with her. With the big day coming, he’ll pull out all the stops to

remind her how good it can be between them and that, together, they can do anything…if he can just

get her down the aisle.

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Also releasing this month…

Seducing Her Rival

the Brazen debut from multipublished author Seleste deLaney

She’s trapped with a man she hates…and can’t resist.

When cruise ship turbulence sends children’s charity guru Mercedes Vega—and her tropical cocktail

—flying into a mysterious stranger, she’s convinced her free vacation is a dream-come-true. But

Lucas Bellamy isn’t just sexy as sin and richer than God. He’s her business rival, determined to

outbid her charity for the land she desperately needs…a fact she doesn’t learn until after a night of

mind-blowing, toe-curling sex. Unwilling to give up, she formulates a plan to make the charming

playboy fall in love with her and back out of the property deal.

Lucas is drawn to Mercedes, but he won’t stand down—after all, he has promises of his own to

keep. But one scintillating night with the enigmatic brunette leads to another, and before long, it’s

unclear who’s seducing who, leaving Mercedes wondering whether the man she’s supposed to hate is

the only salvation from her past.

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Also releasing this month…

Crash into Me

the first book in the new Shaken Dirty series by bestselling author Tracy Wolff

She’s totally off-limits, but this rocker wants a taste…

Jamison Matthews has lusted after Ryder Montgomery since she was a preteen. But now that Ryder

and her brother’s band, Shaken Dirty, has made it huge, she’s just one of many pining for the brooding

lead singer. Too bad Ryder still sees her as a little sister. Not that it matters. Her brother would never

allow it, and the last thing Jamison wants is to be another notch on a rock star’s bed post. Even if it’s

Ryder’s.

Ryder doesn’t deserve happiness. After his fame destroyed his last girlfriend, he swore he’d never

fall in love again. So when Jamison, the girl he’s been in danger of loving for years, joins the band on

the road, he’ll do anything to deny the sparks between them—even after one hot night together. But

Jamison is determined to show Ryder that he’s worthy of love— her love—and that she’s all grown

up…and ready to play.

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