“Sure, why not?”
“It’s a Shelby,” I state again, slowly, so he can understand the words coming out of my mouth.
“Honey, it’s just a car.”
“It’s a Shelby.” I shake my head. “I’m not driving it. If I wreck it, I can’t afford to replace it.”
“Do you get into many car accidents?” He narrows those eyes down at me, and I giggle.
“No. But with my luck, this would be the time.”
“You’ll be fine. Besides”—he winks at me—“I have insurance.”
He’s so confident. His voice, the way he walks, the way he carries himself.
And sexy as all get-out.
That ass alone should be illegal.
But I really love his shoulders and arms. He’s perfectly sculpted, shoulders broad, arms so strong.
Calm down, Meg. This is only Date One.
He’s led me into a sports bar in downtown Seattle. I recognize it. It’s upscale, full of Seahawks memorabilia, televisions on various sports shows and games, and large, dark furniture.
Given the time of day, the place is pretty full of businessmen and other locals unwinding after a long workday.
Will leads me to a booth and sits opposite of me.
“Have you been here before?” he asks.
“A few times, yeah.”
“They make a good burger here.”
“You eat burgers?” I ask, surprised. I would think that with his rigorous training schedule, he’d be on a strict diet.
“Not too often, but yeah, I do. I burn a lot of calories every day, so I pack a lot of food in.” He offers me a menu.
Instead of reading it, I gaze over at him, and he meets my eyes. I run my eyes over his face, shoulders and arms, and down to his long-fingered hands. He’s delicious in a gray T-shirt and jeans. When my gaze returns to his, his face is sober, his eyes bright blue, and I can’t tell what’s going on in that head of his.
“Keep looking at me like that, and the fucking three-date rule will be out the window, Megan.”
Make that really, really turned on.
“Hey, guys, what can I getcha?” A waitress sets waters down before us and takes out her notebook.
“What would you like?” he asks me without looking at the waitress, his eyes still on fire.
“Whatever you’re having is fine,” I respond and swallow hard.
“Two cheeseburgers with fries, please.”
“Hey, you’re Will Montgomery!” the waitress exclaims.
And before my eyes, Will transforms. He smiles his cocky smile, his eyes calm, and he immediately slides into celebrity mode. I’ve seen it on TV, but this is my first glimpse in person.
“How are you, sugar?” he asks her.
“I’m great. Good to see you again.” She winks at him and walks away, but our table is immediately surrounded by other patrons who overheard the waitress and now want to talk to Will and get his autograph.
“Hey, Montgomery! Great to meet you!”
For the next fifteen minutes, Will doesn’t falter. He’s charming and smooth, answers questions, poses for pictures—many of which I’m asked to snap—and works the crowd in his arrogant, I’m-a-football-star way.
And completely ignores me.
It pisses me the fuck off.
In the middle of all the hoopla, I slide out of the booth and leave. Will doesn’t even look my way.
I wonder how long it’ll take him to discover that I’m gone.
Ten minutes, and about two cab-ride miles away, my phone rings.
“Where the hell are you?” he growls.
“Heading home,” I respond calmly.
“What the hell?”
“Look, Will, I’m not interested in the arrogant, cocky football hero. That’s not who I agreed to go out with.” I close my eyes and try to calm my pulse. Why does he make me so fucking nervous?
“Where are you?” he repeats, clearly pissed.
“In a cab. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Meg, I can’t change my job—”
“I’m not asking you to,” I interrupt him. “But you had to know that you’d get a helluva lot of attention in a sports bar, Will. Showing off how famous you are is not the way to impress me. I’m not a woman who thinks that scoring a celebrity is sexy. I think you’re sexy, without the football jersey.” Fuck, why did I say that? “So, you go ahead and enjoy your photo op, but I have better things to do with my time than be ignored. Have a good night.”
This date so did not count toward the three. And there probably won’t be any more dates, either. I just don’t need to date an arrogant ass.
Damn it.
Chapter Five
I’m sorry.
I stare down at the note that accompanied the dozens of chocolate cupcakes that were delivered to the hospital just a few minutes ago.
It’s obvious who they’re from.
He sent beautiful, intricately decorated cupcakes for all of us, not just me. There’s enough here for all of the patients, the staff…hell, even the kids’ parents.
“What did he do?” Jill asks from behind me, and I whirl around.
“Stop reading over my shoulder!”
She chuckles and picks up a cupcake, sniffs it, and takes a big bite. “What did he do?” she repeats.
“He pissed me off.”
“When?”
“Last night.” I pick up a cupcake and take a big bite. Mmm…so good.
“Wanna put these in the lounge?” Jill asks as she licks her fingertips.
“Yeah. People can graze on them all day, although I don’t think they’ll last that long.” I smirk and wheel the cart full of the chocolate goodness down the hall.
“You know, he could have just sent you a cupcake,” Jill murmurs beside me, examining her fingernails.
“I know.” Damn him for being so sweet.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Stop. I get it. He’s nice, but he fucked up yesterday, so it’s okay for me to be frustrated with him, okay?”
“Okay.” Jill raises her hands in an I surrender motion and snags another treat. “These are delish.”
“Yeah, I guess he listened the other day when the kids told him I like chocolate.”
“I guess he did,” she responds with a smile.
“You have chocolate in your teeth,” I mutter and pick up another cupcake for myself.
I arrange the cupcakes on a long table in the lounge and then pull out my phone.
Delicious.
I hit Send and bite my lip. Maybe I should have said more, but he needs to earn it.
Yes, you are, he responds immediately, and I laugh.
Suddenly, my phone is ringing, Football Star displayed on the caller ID.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey,” he responds softly. “I wanted to hear your voice, and this is faster than texting. We’re about to get on the plane to go to San Francisco for Sunday’s game.”
“Oh, it’s an away game this week?” I ask, disappointment in my voice. He’ll be out of town all weekend.
That’s okay, I work all weekend.
“Yeah, we’ll be back Sunday night. Look, Meg, I’m sorry for last night. I should have known that it would get crazy, but I really did just want to take you out for a good burger.”
“Yeah, you should have known,” I agree softly.
“Have I completely fucked up, or are you going to let me make it up to you?”
I bite my lip and clench my eyes shut. Damn it, what is it about this guy that I just can’t seem to tell him no?
“Next time, I pick the spot,” I reply, and I hear him sigh in relief.
“Deal. So, where shall I take you for date number two?”
“Uh, let’s worry about date number one first.”
“We already went on date number one,” he growls, making me grin.
“No, we didn’t. You didn’t take me home, and you pissed me off. It doesn’t count.”
“Fuck,”
he mutters, and I can imagine him running his hand through his shaggy hair in frustration. “You’re killing me, honey.”
“How is that?” I ask and peel the paper off another chocolate cupcake. Jesus, I’m going to gain ten pounds today.
“Hold on.” He takes the phone away from his mouth and calls out to someone, “Hey! I’ll be right back.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Finding a private spot,” he mutters, and I hear him walking. A door opens then closes. “As I was saying, you’re killing me because I want to taste you, everywhere.”
I stop chewing the now-cardboard chocolate in my mouth and swallow hard.
“Excuse me?” I whisper.
“I want to slowly undress you and taste every delectable inch of you. I want you squirming and wet.”
“Mission accomplished,” I mutter and then slap my hand over my mouth as he laughs.
“I want to see you Sunday night.”
“I work Sunday night. I’m on swings this weekend. I don’t get off work until two a.m.”
“Do you work that shift often?” he asks quietly, and I frown at the change in his tone.
“It’s a rotation. We all work all the shifts. But I work only three twelve-hour days a week, so it’s not so bad.”
“So, let me get this straight. You go home in the middle of the night to a house in North Seattle with no alarm system?” His voice is steel, and my stomach clenches.
“It’s no big deal, Will.”
“I’m installing an alarm system in your town house on Monday.” His voice is firm.
“No, you’re not.” What the hell?
“Yes, I am. Don’t argue with me on this, Megan. I’m gone a lot. I need to know you’re safe.”
“Will, we’ve been out on one date…”
“Aha! So it was a date,” he exclaims triumphantly.
“Don’t change the subject. You don’t need to install anything in my house. I’m fine.”
“We’ll see.”
“Is that a ‘we’ll see’ so I shut up and you do it anyway?” I ask suspiciously.
“Yes. Your safety isn’t something I’ll fuck with. If you have to go home alone in the middle of the night, I need to know that you’re safe.”
“Will, I—”
“I have to go,” he interrupts, and I’m instantly disappointed in not only the loss of his fun and carefree tone, but that I won’t see him all weekend. “Are you going to watch the game on Sunday?” he asks, his tone softened.
“Is it a morning or afternoon game?” I ask.
“Afternoon.”
“Yeah, I usually watch the games with the kids. I’ll be watching in between work stuff.”
“Okay, pay attention at halftime. I’ll make sure I’m on camera as we head off the field, and I’ll say hi.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, watch for me.”
“Okay. Have a safe trip.”
“You be safe, sweetheart. I’ll text you when I can.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Later.”
And he’s gone.
***
“NO, NO, NO!!” Nick exclaims from his position on the leather couch in the lounge on Sunday afternoon. There are roughly a dozen patients, parents, a few staff on their breaks, all with their eyes glued to the enormous television, watching the Seahawks game.
The kids are wearing the Seahawks gear that the guys gave them last week. Will had a spread of food delivered around noon of sandwiches, chips, popcorn and soda.
What is it with this man and food?
So everyone is munching and enjoying the game. Instead of a hospital lounge, it looks like someone’s living room during the Super Bowl.
The kids love the sense of normalcy, and I can’t wait to thank Will for it.
Everyone groans as Will is tackled on the field, and I hold my breath until he gets back up and walks steadily to his teammates.
Dear God, I can’t watch him get tackled again. How does he not get hurt?
The first half of the game comes to an end, and the Seahawks are winning, twenty-one to seven.
My eyes are glued to the television, watching intently for my message from Will, and sure enough, right before they go to commercial, he’s on the screen. His hair is wet with sweat and plastered to his forehead, his face dirty, and he’s breathing hard from exertion, but he grins at the camera and taps his nose with his forefinger, then points to the camera and mouths, “Miss you.”
Well, shit, he’s sweet.
Without overthinking it, I pull my phone out and text him.
Miss you, too, Football Star.
***
“Miss McBride?”
“Yeah,” I croak and stare at the man through blurry eyes. He’s standing on my porch in a uniform of some kind, holding a clipboard. I run my hand through my hair and frown. “What time is it?”
“Ten in the morning, ma’am.”
Fuck, it’s early.
“What’s up?” I ask and wish for coffee.
“I’m Doug from Home Security Systems. I have a work order to install a system in your home.” He smiles politely, and I scowl.
“I didn’t order a security system.”
“I know. Mr. Montgomery did.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
“Because I own the company, ma’am. He asked me to do it personally.”
I sigh deeply and lean my forehead against the door. I guess there’s no getting out of this.
“How long will it take?” I ask, resigned to letting it happen.
“Most of the day. This is a full system.”
“How much is my monthly bill going to be?” I ask and juggle some things around in my head. I could disconnect the cable.
“It’s been paid in full for the next year,” he replies as he makes notes on his clipboard.
“Seriously?”
“Yep. May I get started?”
“Go ahead. I’ll be in the shower, but then I’ll be around if you have questions.”
“That’s fine. I’ll start outside anyway.”
I trudge back to my bedroom and flop down on the bed. I grab my phone and dial Will’s number.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he whispers.
“Why are you whispering?” I whisper back.
“Because we’re watching tape from yesterday’s game. Why are you whispering?” I hear the smile in his voice, and it makes me grin.
“Because you’re whispering.”
“Did the alarm guy show up?”
“Yes, control freak, he did.”
Will chuckles softly. “Good. I trust him. He’s done all of my family’s homes and businesses.”
“Okay. Did you have to send him so early?”
“It’s ten a.m., sweetheart.”
“I didn’t go to bed until four,” I remind him.
“I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t want to sleep my whole day away anyway.” I get up and start the shower. “I’ll let you get back to your tape.”
“Okay. Do you have tomorrow off?”
“Yeah.”
“I have to train in the morning until about noon, but then I want to spend the rest of the day with you.”
God, his whispery voice is sexy as fuck.
“Sure, what do you have in mind?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at noon.”
He hangs up, and I take a long, scalding-hot shower. It wakes me up and invigorates me. I dress in a loose, floaty black tank dress and head into the kitchen and open my laptop on the countertop. While it wakes up, I brew some coffee.
Thank God for coffee.
I hear drilling and see the security-system guys bustling about the town house, one in the front and one in the back. While they work, I decide to work a little, too, catching up on e-mail, Facebook and bills. First, I bring up my favorite station on Internet radio.
By the time the workers are done at around six, I’ve c
aught up with my virtual social life and e-mails, made a few calls, and I’m broke. Well, I will be, anyway, when I send Sylvia her check.
I’m shown how to set my alarm, disable it, punch in my passcode, and call for help. It’s incredibly scary.
Not the idea of being burgled, but how many damn steps I have to go through to arm this fucker.
When I’m finally alone, I slip on my flip-flops and head out for a walk through the neighborhood. I don’t know why Will is so freaked out about my safety. My neighborhood isn’t that bad. It’s just an average, middle-class area of Seattle. In fact, the majority of my subdivision is townhomes. Some are condos, and most of the people who live here are single or childless couples. Surrounding us are single-family homes, all rather cookie-cutter, built in the last five years or so.
It’s not the freaking ghetto.
But if it helps him sleep at night, whatever.
It’s unseasonably warm for a late-summer day in Seattle. There’s not a cloud hanging in the bright blue sky, and the trees are just barely starting to turn yellow. Before we know it, they’ll turn red and then fall, leaving the trees bare.
I wave hello to my neighbor and cross the street to my house, to see Will sitting on my front steps, elbows braced on his jean-clad knees, wearing a black Nike T-shirt and black Oakley sunglasses. I can’t see his eyes, but his mouth is tilted in a half smile, and I can feel him watch me saunter up to him.
As I get closer, I put a bit more swing in my hips, enjoying the way the dress floats around my thighs, and grin down at him.
“I thought you were picking me up tomorrow at noon.” I plant my hands on my hips and try to look stern, but it so doesn’t work. I’m happy to see him after his trip to San Francisco.
“I am. But I decided to drop by, make sure the alarm was installed okay.” He reaches his hand out for mine and pulls me into his lap. I squeal in surprise and then giggle and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Is that the only reason?” I smile up at him and tug his Oakleys off. His blue eyes are happy and hot.
“I needed to see you,” he whispers and hugs me hard, burying his face in my neck and breathing me in.
God, he feels good.
“I missed you,” he murmurs and kisses my cheek, then pulls back and looks me in the eye again. “How are you?”
“I’m good. It was a busy weekend at work, between football games and deliveries and those pesky things we call patients.” I giggle and push my hand through his dark blond hair. It’s soft and feels so good, I do it again. “Seriously, thank you for everything you did for the kids, and for me, this past week. It far surpassed anything any of us were expecting.”